Lord Langley Is Back in Town by Elizabeth Boyle Page A

again it wasn’t every night she had such a circus parading about in her bedroom—rose to meet Langley’s, for he was the catalyst of all this.
    As far as she was concerned, they all could have him. While she wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of them setting up a brawl in her bedroom, if it would expedite them on their travels, then she would risk a bit of damage and scandal.
    Yet to her surprise he wasn’t looking down at what the woman was offering, but instead his gaze was on her, and when their eyes met, he had the nerve to wink.
    “Ah, thank you,” he said as his boot came loose. Immediately he stepped away from the lady and closer to Minerva. “There now, that is better.”
    Better for who? From Minerva’s vantage point it only put her in harm’s way, for there was still the Russian princess and her Cossack forces in the background awaiting an opening to make their charge.
    And charge they would eventually, she had to imagine, given the narrow glint to the lady’s darkly kohled eyes.
    Heavens! They were all made up like that—rouged, primped, and gowned as if they had been lounging about waiting for this man to arrive. Next to them she was like a solitary daisy in a hothouse of orchids and orange blossoms. A vestal innocent in a decadent harem.
    Her house a harem? Not if she had anything to say about it.
    “Out!” She pointed at her door, which now hung by one hinge. “All of you!”
    Nanny Brigid put her dog down and her hands went to her hips. It managed not only to show the woman’s determination to do just the opposite, but also managed to give her another opportunity to push her breasts up and nearly out of her evening wear.
    Really, didn’t they make sensible flannel night rails on the Continent?
    “Dearest, that isn’t necessary,” Langley said, sidling up to Minerva and wrapping his arm about her waist, cinching her up against him like one might an unruly mount. “They’ve come to wish us well.”
    A suspicious silence fell over the ladies. Including Minerva.
    Us? Had he just said “Us?” As in her and him?
    Even Knuddles stopped his snuffling and sniffing about to glance at the man.
    “Whatever do you mean?” Nanny Tasha demanded. “Langley, you can’t be saying—”
    “That is exactly what I am saying. I’ve come home. To marry the woman I love.” He gave Minerva another hug, drawing her even closer. “Adore,” he confessed. “Allow me the pleasure of introducing the future Lady Langley.”
    The future Lady Langley? He didn’t really mean . . .
    Minerva gaped at him just as the others were—good heavens, what had he said just before he’d kissed her?
    Exactly what you told me to do. Taking a wife.
    Her hands went to her lips as she realized that he’d meant her.
    The margravine sputtered something in her own language before she got command of herself and managed to get out in English the one word they were all thinking. “Ridiculous!”
    Yes, even she had to agree with the lady. Ridiculous . And outrageous. And utterly impossible.
    Marry him? She’d rather walk naked through Almack’s. She twisted out of his grasp and turned to glare at him, to add her own imperious gaze to the four others that were blazing into this obviously ramshackled rake.
    “Married? To such as this?” Nanny Lucia tossed her head, her dark brown locks tumbling around her shoulders in an elegantly tousled state of dishabille .
    Minerva glanced over at the lady and felt a pang of envy mixed in with her growing annoyance at this pushy bit of Neapolitan temptation. Truly, there was an art and gift to looking like that, one Minerva didn’t possess.
    Nor do I want to , she told herself, if it had one prancing about in the middle of the night all trussed and trimmed like a holiday pudding.
    “Truly, schatzi ,” the margravine said, sending her own scathing glance at Minerva’s flannel covering, one brow arching to say in so many words that she wouldn’t be caught dead in such material—not