Free Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right by Kieran Kramer Page B

his protruding ears and round face, he certainly matched his name. No doubt Lady Poppy set him to boil often.
    “Thank you, Kettle.” Nicholas handed over his cape, gloves, and hat, a wad of cash tastefully hidden under the brim. “I presume you mean Lord Derby is expecting me. He received my note about security measures?”
    “You presume correctly, Your Grace.” Kettle discreetly pocketed the bills. “He made sure Lady Poppy’s bedchamber window is locked, and we’ve a servant guarding every exit from the house. Regrettably, the earl was called away with Lord Wyatt on emergency Parliamentary business and is still not back. He begs you to be patient as he’ll be a trifle late for dinner.”
    “I’m happy to wait.” Nicholas had dreamed about Lady Poppy’s snapping emerald eyes and coppery mane. And now he’d see her again. He felt exhilarated at the thought, especially because he already knew she wouldn’t be easy.
    Not easy at all.
    He wondered if a good night’s sleep and almost a full day to reflect upon the advantages of a connection to him had softened her outrage into something more … tamable.
    And almost hoped it hadn’t.
    “By the by, Lady Charlotte is out for the evening,” Kettle said. “But Lady Poppy awaits you in the drawing room.” He gave Nicholas a meaningful stare. “I know you’ve been approved by Lord Derby, but Cook has told us all about you and your scandalous exploits, Your Grace. And let me assure you, I shall be on the lookout myself, on Lady Poppy’s behalf. Yes, indeed.”
    “Shall you?”
    “I most certainly shall.”
    “Very good, then.” Nicholas patted the butler on the shoulder, and they walked in comfortable silence to the first door on the left.
    He waited for Kettle to announce him and heard Poppy bid that he enter. He braced himself and walked into the room.
    She was posed by the pianoforte, her back ramrod straight, looking like a diamond of the first water, a large ruby necklace snuggled between her breasts.
    Drummond raised her hand to his mouth, turned it over, and kissed her palm, sending a distinct pattern of gooseflesh racing up her arm.
    “I’m sorry to have missed your aunt,” he said. “She seems a lively sort of chaperone.” Lady Charlotte had even winked at him last night, after he’d proposed.
    Poppy lifted her shoulders and let them drop. “Yes, she’s that way because she’s a Spinster.”
    “What has that to do with anything?”
    “She can do what she wants with whom she wants whenever she wants,” Poppy said.
    “Spinsters are to be envied, then.”
    She lifted her chin. “I somehow doubt your sincerity.”
    “You should, perhaps,” he agreed. “Except when I’m complimenting you. You’re exquisite tonight.”
    “Thank you.” She flushed.
    There was the sound of a carriage rattling to a stop in front of the house.
    Drummond inclined his head. “Is that your father?”
    “Yes. He’s often grouchy. Aren’t you afraid?”
    “No, of course not,” he said. “We see eye to eye. I’ve told you.”
    She bristled. “Don’t remind me. I demand to know something before he arrives. What does IF mean? And MR? And OPL?”
    “You are curious, aren’t you?” He gave her what he hoped was an enigmatic smile. “But I won’t tell you. You have no need to know.”
    “So? I know many things I’ve no need to know.”
    “Well, this will be one less thing. And even if you did need to know, I’d think twice before telling you. Sorry, but my instincts tell me you’re not good at keeping secrets.”
    “Your instincts are wrong. Why should you have secrets anyway?”
    “Because often the most exciting, most pleasurable things in the world are done in secret.” He pulled her closer and kissed the tender hollow at the base of her neck. Her scent was sweet and seductive.
    She arched her neck, then seemed to recall herself. “My goodness.” She gasped and pushed him away. “You are a scoundrel.”
    “You think so?”
    “Of