Page 146 of Heartbreaker

“Take me home, Adelaide Frampton.”

She shook her head. “My apartments—they’re not for dukes.”

“As they belong to a future duchess, I must disagree.”

She winced at the words. “I shall be a terrible duchess.”

“I don’t think so. I think you shall be the kind of duchess who uses her power to hold a mirror to the world. I think you shall be the kind of duchess who changes what duchesses might be.”

She looked down the bridge. “I would like that.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Ishalllike that.”

Her eyes found his. “I like you.”

The kiss he gave her was rich and dark and sinful. Like a stolen treasure. And when it ended, and he pressed his forehead to her and whispered her name, Adelaide could barely catch her breath.

When she finally did, it was to say, “About my apartments... you should know... I’ve only one bed.”

“Excellent. I’m considering throwing out all the extra beds in my house, too.” She laughed as he pulled her closer, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Chairs, as well, as we’ve demonstrated we only need one of those.” He pressed a kiss on her jaw, right below her ear, sending a shiver through her as he whispered, “And the carriage. There’s only one of those, now that you wrecked the other with your distracting beauty.”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he promised her the world—whatever she wished. As long as she married him. As soon as possible.

And as she was no fool, she happily agreed.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Detective Inspector Thomas Peck was having a bad day.

It would not even be considered a full day at that point, but Tommy had experienced more than his fair share of bad days and knew, without question, when a morning began with a constable knocking at his rooms in Holborn, waking his landlady and setting her off on her favorite sermon—Why Decent People Do Not Call Before Breakfast—he was in for a bad day.

It was confirmed when he walked into St. Stephen’s Chapel in Lambeth, where there had been multiple reports of a battle the night before. The only evidence of such a thing a few overturned pews, two of which revealed empty bunkers beneath, as though someone had cleared out storage below while in a hurry.

The vicar assigned to the chapel was visiting his sister in Nottinghamshire, apparently, so Tommy had been left to inspect the place alone, only to find what looked to be a third hatch in the floor beneath a front pew, which had been left askew.

He’d just leaned down to open it when someone called through the church, “Detective Inspector! Hello!”

He knew before he turned what he would find: Lady Imogen Loveless—daughter to some earl, sister to far too many lords, and friend to several of the most powerful women in the aristocracy. Barely five feet tall, plump, pretty, and absolute pandemonium.

He bit his tongue. Not this woman. Not today. He shook his head and pointed to the door, indicating she should leave.

“No. Out.”

Thoroughly ignoring him, she continued her approach, casting a curious look at the door in the floor at his feet. “Now that is a nice, well-hidden hole. Did you make it?”

He gritted his teeth. “I did not.”

“Ah. What is in it?”

“Nothing.”

“Can you be sure if you haven’t opened it?”

“Lady Imogen, isn’t there someone else you could call upon this morning?”

A beat, and then, “In fact there is not.”

He’d feared as much. “And I suppose it is too much to wonder how it is you knew precisely where to call upon me?”

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