Page 40 of A Lady, Her Lord, & Their Duke

Moments later, Edmund returned, a key in his outstretched hand. “Here it is!”

They must have looked a sight, near-sprinting next door, but as soon as they stepped inside the vast, empty entrance hall, Neville felt a rush of excitement. There was no furniture or ugly paintings or trinkets to dissuade him, just a blank canvas waiting for an artist.

“What can you tell us?” asked Neville, as he glanced around admiringly at the sculpted plaster ceilings, sturdy columns, and smooth polished wooden floors. Even now he could imagine turning this place into a home.

“The floor plan is actually quite similar to Norfolk’s at number 31, except on a smaller scale,” said Edmund. “Basement has the kitchens, scullery, footmen accommodation, and cellar. Ground floor has the dining room, two bedchambers for housekeeper and butler, the library, morning room, and parlor. Lovely wide staircase right in the middle that goes all the way up. First floor has a master bedroom and dressing room, plus a music room, ballroom, and two drawing rooms, but really it’s up to you how they are used. More bedchambers on the second floor, so plenty of space for Toby or guests. Maids comfortably accommodated in the attic. The large windows offer superb views and lots of light, and the fireplaces keep it toasty warm. On the Pall Mall side you have your own mews and enclosed garden, of course.”

Arabella laughed as she twirled around. “Just the space alone is wonderful. You don’t even need to explain further. Although I do have one very important question: how big a bed could we fit in the master bedchamber?”

Edmund blushed. “How big do you want?”

She strolled up to him, then curved one proprietary hand around his arse, before beckoning Neville over and doing the same to him. “For three, of course.”

Neville swallowed hard. Their future was so close he could almost taste it. “When can we start?”

Arabella held them closer. “I’ll call on my banker tomorrow.”

Indeed, their couple had become a threesome.

And it was magnificent.

Arabella had always known that money opened doors. But money together with a determined and highly organized merchant’s daughter, a cheerfully encouraging baron, and a powerful duke’s connections and influence could compel actual miracles.

What they had achieved in a week!

Glancing around her new dining room, she allowed herself a moment of pure, unabashed pride.

First, she and Nev met with her banker and arranged a draft to purchase the townhouse. Then, with Edmund and Sir Kenneth’s assistance, they had hired fifty former soldiers currently without work to assist in their move from Golden Square; disassembling and reassembling furniture, and driving carts to collect new pieces from various shops and warehouses. For a sizable donation to a welfare organization for widows, they had also acquired twenty extra women willing to polish, scrub, and dust both their old home and their new one. A team of footmen led by Oakley, formerly an apprentice carpenter before becoming a butler, and Oakley’s son, a master stonemason, had carefully knocked a hole in the first-floor hallway wall, installed a narrow wooden door, and covered both sides with false bookcases.

But now the mammoth task was complete. All the Golden Square servants were happily ensconced in their much larger quarters and they’d sent a letter to Toby telling him of their grand new address. The only task left: trying out the master chamber’s enormous and exceedingly sturdy new bed.

Neville sauntered into the room, openly admiring the beautiful rectangular oak dining table that easily sat thirty people. “I still have no idea how you managed all this.”

Arabella laughed as she kissed him. “Easy. A great deal of money, Edmund’s name, and about one hundred hardworking helpers.”

“Speaking of our duke, what time is he joining us?”

Glancing at the dining room clock resting on the fireplace mantel, Arabella yelped. “Very shortly. I’ve already told Edmund to come and go as he pleases, but we wanted to make a specific time today to ensure the door and bookshelf system worked. And that it’s quiet. Yes, I’m aware Oakley tested it several times, but…you know.”

Her husband grinned. “I know my beloved sets the very highest standards and that is one of the thousand reasons I adore her.”

Arabella harrumphed, but her cheeks heated. “Let’s go and wait for Edmund. I’ve ordered a picnic supper to be sent up later.”

Arm in arm, they left the dining room then walked up the wide staircase that curved up to the first floor. Nev actually kicked his feet out in a few dance steps. “I will never tire of a staircase where we can walk several abreast rather than having to leapfrog each other. I really do apologize profusely for the prolonged stay at Golden Square. Speaking of that house, what should we do with it?”

Arabella shrugged. “It’s your house, my darling. I’m sure finding a buyer would be easy…but I suspect you have another idea.”

“I do,” he said ruefully. “Offering it to Valerie so she no longer has to share with Mother. It’s time she enjoyed some freedom, especially now that Toby’s at school. There are lots of people searching for work, so hiring new staff wouldn’t be an issue. And if she feels inclined to meet someone new, there are several respectable bachelors living in Golden Square. Also a plethora of wild artists.”

She nodded at the very Nev response, caring and charitable. One of the thousand reasons she adored him. “An excellent idea. Valerie deserves to kick up her heels, and I’ll happily fund staff for her. Your mother is a different story. I won’t cut her off, however her continued allowance will rely on one critical condition: she stays far, far away from us. Is that fair?”

“More than fair,” said Nev as they strolled down the hallway. “I won’t specify the remotest part of Siberia, but definitely away from London. I’ll send her a note in the morning. Now, what is that mysterious gown box sitting outside the bedchamber door?”

Arabella stilled. The box was stamped with the name of her favorite modiste, yet she’d not ordered anything. “When did this arrive? I’m not waiting on a gown.”

“Perhaps it’s a surprise,” said Nev, his cheeks turning pink. “Devised by a husband and a lover with the assistance of a certain rogue textile merchant. The level of cunning and distraction we employed now makes us eligible as Home Office spies.”

Arabella’s eyes burned. Her men had procured a special, secret gift? “Well. Well. I’d better open it then.”