Kate sighed softly, almost as if she acquiesced.
“Admit defeat, and we shall all be happier.” “Give up now, dear wife,” Anthony taunted. She was damned if he was going to get the better of her this time. She’d beaten him to the mallet for three years running. Rematch began and ended in a day, but she and Anthony knew better. The other Bridgertons might think the annual Pall Mall “Game’s in three days,” Anthony said with a pleased sigh, “and I have already won.” “It’s a deuced sight cheaper than replacing all of my shirts,” he said with a scowl. “You gave Milton five pounds?” Good Lord, that was practically his annual salary. “You never were terribly skilled at vocabulary retrieval when crossed.” There was Anthony, standing in the doorway, smiling diabolically as he spun the black Pall Mall mallet in his hands. The Pall Mall set would be resting in the corner, as it always was, and in just a moment. She could barely contain herself as she tossed a blanket aside. “Mine mine minemine mine mine minemine mine mine minemiiiiiiiiiine ,” she continued, moving into the hoppy little section that followed the familiar Beethoven refrain. She had no taste for wood, of course, but this was no ordinary implement of destruction. She would have tasted it, even, if possible, would somehow have bonded it to her side. “Mine mine minemiiiiiiiiiiiine ,” she sang, wrenching open the door to the shed on the last syllable, which just so happened to be the deep, serious note of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. She was smiling so hard she was laughing. His shirts would be stained pink with raspberry jam, and she.
Kate had pretended not to notice when Anthony had rewarded him with a new horse. Her eldest son had casted the roles she had been named First Witch. “It is mine, all mine,” she chortled, in much the same tones she’d used during the previous month’s Bridgerton family production ofMacbeth. Something involving jam on the iron, or perhaps an infestation in the wardrobe-spiders, mice, it really didn’t matter which-Kate was more than happy to leave the details up to the valet as long as Anthony was suitably distracted long enough for her to make her escape. And she knew that for a pound, Anthony’s valet could feign the most marvelous sartorial disaster. Fifteen years of marriage had taught her a thing or two, and she knew that he would be watching her every move.īut she was clever. Kate stomped across the lawn, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that her husband was not following her.
Title : The Viscount Who Loved Me (2nd Epilogue) OH MY GOOODDD !!!!! THIS IS 2ND EPILOGUE OF THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVED ME BY JULIA QUINN (MY FAVORITE AUTHOR OF HISTORICAL ROMANCE)
0 kommentar(er)
