Page 99 of A Wicked Game

“How about I ask the Archbishop for a special license?” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “He gave one to Tristan. And to Gryff, come to think about it. I’ll say we have extenuating circumstances.”

“And what might those be?”

“That I can’t keep my hands off my fiancée for the three weeks necessary for the banns to be read?”

“I’m sure the Archbishop will love that.”

“I’m sure he won’t. But I’ll remind him that I recently sponsored his cousin, one Tom Manners-Sutton, for a promotion, and provided him with a glowing letter of recommendation. That should sweeten him up.”

Harriet shook her head in mock disapproval. “You seem to know how to bribe and blackmail practically everyone in theton. First the Duke of Evesham, and now the Archbishop of Canterbury.”

“I prefer to think of it as ‘calling in favors,’” Morgan murmured. “It’s how thetonworks, by and large. It’s just one enormous, tangled net of who knows who. And who knowswhatabout who. I have enough ammunitionagainst everyone that matters to ensure we’ll never be bothered by gossip.”

“I think another Davies marrying another Montgomery will cause its own gossip,” she said sleepily. “We’re supposed to be sworn enemies. People will be wondering what’s become of the feud.”

“We’ll keep it going.” He chuckled. “In our own particular way. I’ll keep teasing you to distraction in public, if you like. It’s a habit that’s going to be hard to break.”

Harriet smiled against his chest. She spread her palm over his heart and felt it beating, steady and true within his chest.

“Very well. We can be enemies who just happen to sleep together. We can fight a little, love a lot.”

“That sounds like the perfect recipe for a happy marriage. Anythingtooperfect would be dull. I need you to fire a warning shot across my bows every now and then to keep me on my toes.”

“I will definitely do that.”

“Do you think your father’s expecting you home tonight?”

“No. I think he’s accepted the inevitable fact that he’s about to get a devilish Davies as a son-in-law.”

“In that case—” Morgan threaded his fingers through hers and kissed her lips. Harriet kissed him back, and to her amazement she felt him grow hard again against her belly. She laughed up at him, scandalized. “Again, Davies?”

In a lightning move, he rolled her over onto her back and kissed her down into the bed, supporting his weight on his elbows. “Absolutely again. I have years of fantasies to make up for.”

She gave a delighted giggle and wrapped her arms and legs around him like a barnacle. “So do I.”

They both groaned as he slid into her again. Harriet spread her hands over his shoulders, loving the weight and the feel of him, creating a whole new sensory map in her mind.

“What were you saying about kisses four, five, and six…?”

Epilogue

Harriet Montgomery married Morgan Davies in the breakfast room of their new house on Grosvenor Square, in the presence of a select group of family members.

Harriet’s cousins, Maddie and Tristan, were there, with their respective Davies spouses, Gryff and Carys, as well as Morgan’s brother Rhys, Harriet’s father, and the Aunts, Constance and Prudence.

Contrary to Pru’s prediction, no natural disaster occurred on the occasion of yet another Davies-Montgomery union. Lightning did not streak across the sky. Birds failed to fall from the trees in portent. And the river Thames did not suddenly start flowing backward.

All in all, it was generally agreed to be a delightful affair. The bride and groom looked suitably enamored, tears and smiles abounded, and Rhys, as the last unmarried Davies, looked exceptionally relieved to be the last man standing.

Aunt Prudence, however, managed to ruin his mood. She cornered him as he sidled toward the refreshments table.

“I don’t know why you’re looking so happy, young man.”

Rhys frowned, a sandwich from the wedding breakfast suspended halfway to his mouth. “It’s a wedding. Aren’t I supposed to be happy?”

Aunt Pru sent him a smug look. “I expect you’re thinking you’re the lucky one. That you’ve been spared the terrible fate of falling for a Montgomery.”

“And so I have,” Rhys said with a grin. “My siblings have very kindly married all the available Montgomerys, so there’s no chance of the same thing happening to me.”

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