Page 105 of The Rakehell of Roth

“Deliriously, my love.” He grinned and kissed her. “Only five more to go.”

When their clothes had been put to rights, they crept back downstairs to the wedding breakfast with no one the wiser. No one except Astrid, whose brows were in her hairline when she caught sight of them; Clarissa, who started giggling uncontrollably; Oliver, who spared them a disparaging look; Kendrick, who chose to discreetly look away; and Beswick, whose face showed no emotion whatsoever, but that knowing glint in his eyes said it all.

“No one knows,” Winter whispered down to her.

“Ourentirefamily knows, you wicked man!”

Her dashing rogue of a husband gave an unapologetic grin. “Tell me then, love, what would Lady Darcy do?”

Lady Darcy would smirk, throw her shoulders back, and own it.

Isobel Helena Vance decided to do just that.