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When Adam glanced at his wife in question, her cheeks were bright red, and it was only when he met Daniel’s gaze again that he realized the innuendo running underneath the words.

“Ahem,” Daniel cleared his throat with a chuckle. “Would you like me to leave, then? Maybe take Eloise with me?”

Shut it, you cad.

Adam’s fists clenched.

“Mercury,” Juliet said, obviously rushing to pull the conversation onto neutral ground. “My horse kept at the stables here is very fast. I do enjoy riding him.” Her eyes widened as soon as she finished speaking, and the awkward silence at the table was only broken by Daniel’s suspicious cough that sounded very much like laughter.

Cheeks flaming, she glanced at Adam again and met his intense stare.

Oh, she enjoyed riding him, did she?

Damn it.

He had not wanted to think such thoughts with his daughter sitting right there, but now, the thoughts of his wife riding him sent molten heat through his blood.

Maybe it was indeed time to begin trying for an heir. He had said he wouldn’t pressure her into it, but now… he toyed with the idea of seducing his wife, after all.

“I had wondered whose horse that was,” he murmured.

“Oh, yes, he’s mine.” She held his eyes, and Adam wanted her to say those words again, but to him. “I named him after the messenger. It seemed appropriate, given where he took me.”

Adam’s jaw shifted, and he cleared his throat, looking down at his plate. If he didn’t break the eye contact, he wasn’t quite sure what he would do with his daughter watching right there.

“Right,” Daniel drawled, eyeing them both with a half-smirk before he reached for the bread.

Juliet looked at her wine and then back at Daniel.

“Eton,” she said. “You promised.”

Daniel’s face brightened at once. Across the table, Adam set down his fork with a sound not quite loud enough to be rude, but close enough.

“That is not necessary—” he started.

“The punt,” Daniel began, addressing Juliet directly. “The summer he was seventeen. He had convinced himself his balance was exceptional.”

Adam looked at the far wall and let out a giant sigh.

“He decided to stand in it,” Daniel continued, mischief twinkling in his eye. “Like a gondolier. He had very strong views.”

Eloise was also listening with rapt attention, and Juliet noticed that this seemed to aggravate the duke even more.

“Papa,” she said, her face open with mirth. “You fell in the river?”

“The situation,” Adam said, “was managed.”

“He was wet for three hours,” Daniel told Juliet, openly laughing. “And since he’d refused to go back to the dormitory dripping, he stood in a field for over two hours.”

Juliet laughed, and this time she did not even try to hold it in. No, it came out full and loud. She pressed her fingers to her mouth after, but the deed was already done. It set the others off, and Eloise dissolved beside the marquess into helpless giggling.

Now, Juliet peeked at Adam from under her lashes and met his eyes. She lowered her hand from her mouth while still holding his gaze, because he couldn’t look away from the soft blush spreading across her cheeks.

Heavens, it suits her so…

Then he narrowed his eyes at the Marquess, who was looking entirely too pleased with himself, and said, “I trusted you.”

“And I have honored that trust,” Daniel said, “for seventeen years. Tonight is bound to be the exception. Do you not suppose your wife has a right to know this?”