“If you believe those three aren’t capitalizing on their wealth of information on society affairs, I’ve overestimated your observational skills.”
Luckily, he was capable of reading between the lines. “You think the widows are part of Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s spy network?”Heaven help them. “That is preposterous. Widows are among Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s main clients.”
Anna raised a brow. “And an unmarried woman cannot be well-informed?”
Jackson shook his head and pulled her into his arms. “There is no good answer to that.”
“Hmm,” she said, her arms wrapping around his waist. “My good opinion of you is returning.”
“And I’ve never been surer you, dear wife, will make a fine agent.”
She shifted in his arms. “I don’t know.” He knew that teasing look. “I’m beginning to think I’d make a great honorary Widow.”
Jackson groaned. “Thank you for not wishing me a premature death, at least.” He sent up a prayer. “Heaven help the poor gentlemen of England.”
“Why only the gentlemen?”
His next prayer was for strength.
She grinned. “Is that your cry for surrender, Duke?”
“That is my enlistment, General. Point me toward the enemy and we shall see them leg-shackled and blissfully happy.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’d be selfish not to share my joy.”
“Or the entertainment.”
“That too.”
“Well.” Her lips quirked on one side. “I’ve a rather soft spot for your brother.”
“Figaro?” Jackson frowned. “Why not William?”
“I’ve yet to decide his punishment for making me worry,” Anna said.
Jackson grinned. Anna had been overjoyed to see her brother alive and unharmed when he’d shown up for the evening meal two days ago. But the new Duchess of Grandfellow hadn’t losther sense of justice since acquiring the title; she’d merely gained greater resources with which to exact her revenge.
And the look of surprise on Lord Brixby’s face when Anna had guessed his involvement with the Home Office correctly had been fitting comeuppance.
“Do you have anyone in mind?” Anna asked.
“For whom?”
“Your brother.”
Jackson laughed. “Isn’t Figaro a bit young to marry?”
She blinked up at him. “The younger the pup, the easier it is to train.”
“Of course.” Jackson ran a hand over his face.The poor mutt doesn’t stand a chance. “Make sure you find a woman with a sense of humor to match Fig’s vulgar disposition. Preferably with a love of idioms.” He still had plans to mend their relationship, after all.
“Now, where would the fun be in that?” Anna said, a wicked gleam in her eye. “A humorless woman would be a greater challenge.”
“For you, or for him?”
She shrugged. “Both. We did agree to be entertained.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her curling lips. “You. Are. Diabolical.”
A flash of teeth. “And?”
