Mastered Under the Mistletoe_A Lords of Discipline Holiday Novella by Alyson Chase

Author:Alyson Chase [Chase, Alyson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Holiday, Regency, Kobo, erotica, Historical, Fiction, Romance
Google: goJxDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07J58DRDD
Publisher: Alice Weiss
Published: 2018-11-09T03:46:45+00:00

Chapter Five

“Well, that was exciting.” Peggy’s voice dripped with honey-coated sarcasm. She gave the reins a harder slap than their horse appreciated. He snorted and lurched in his harness.

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about.” Liz ran the edge of her newly-purchased raw silk against her cheek. “We got plenty of fabric for you, too. And at such a price!”

Peggy snorted and sank deeper into her burrow of scarves. “That’s what avoiding tariffs will get you.” She glanced at Liz from the corner of her eye. “It didn’t hurt that they were all scared witless when they discovered you’re the duchess. No one would want to cheat the Duke of Montague.”

Liz lifted a shoulder. “I have to deal with the fuss and nonsense of nobility; I might as well reap what benefits I can.”

Peggy stared at her.

Liz shifted on the seat. All right, so there were many benefits to being a duchess. But a good buy was a good buy. And those men had sold her several bolts of fabric at cost.

“They were quite nice, weren’t they?” Liz pounded her boots into the footwell, trying to bring back feeling. “I wouldn’t have expected such generosity from smugglers.”

“Yes, they were princes among men.”

Liz frowned. “You’re full of vinegar tonight.”

“Sneaking out and freezing my rump off will do that to me.” Peggy turned the cart onto the driveway of Hartsworth.

“Don’t we need to stop here?” Liz asked. “Sam should be by soon to meet up with you. I’ll get out and walk back unseen.”

Peggy turned her head. Only her eyes were visible. “No more walking for you, duchess. I’ll drop you off by the kitchen, and you go straight up to your room and get warm by the fire. I’ll return for Sam.”

Well, Liz wasn’t going to argue with that. Her feet were blocks of ice. But she didn’t want Peggy subjected to the elements any longer, either. “Stop by the stables. Tell Billy to go get…” Her words trailed off as Peggy turned the cart past a wall of cypress trees and Hartsworth came into sight.

Liz sucked in a sharp breath. Her home, which should have radiated a soft glow in the night, blazed brightly enough for her to see the details of the fountain at the center of the drive. Marcus wasn’t one to be stingy with the candles, and had even mentioned installing some of those new-fangled gas lamps, but Hartsworth wasn’t usually so alit.

“Ah, Duchess …?”

“I see it,” Liz said grimly. She saw it, and didn’t like it. Because if Hartsworth was glowing brighter than Queen Charlotte’s Christmas tree, then that could only mean trouble.

For Liz.

“Do you want to get off the cart here?” Peggy slowed the horse. “Go in a side door?”

“That is no longer an option.” The drive separated into a large oval and ended at the wide front staircase to the house. A figure stood at the top, backlit by the light spilling through the open front doors.

Marcus stood at military attention, hands clasped behind his back, not moving an inch even as the cart came to a stop at the end of the drive.

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