Page 84 of The Best Marquess

After filling their plates, they ate in companionable silence. Pippa kept sending him apologetic glances as she shoveled in another bite of food, and he patted her arm before reaching for one of the newspapers sitting in a neatly folded pile beside his plate. Some news of the world would be welcome; with everything that had happened at home in the past few weeks, it felt like he had no clue what was going on in the city, or the country for that matter. Indeed, some nice, normal politics, banking, or trade would be just the thing.

“Beg pardon, my lord, my lady.”

They both looked up to see Travers hovering in the doorway.

Finn shook his head, unsure whether to groan or begin packing their trunks so they could move to the top of the most isolated mountain in the realm. “Just say it, Travers.”

“Forgive me for the disturbance, but ah—”

“No need to announce me, I’m family,” said Lady Kingsford as she marched into the dining room…Lord Campbell in tow.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He glanced at Pippa as he took her hand and interlaced their fingers, wanting to infuse her with all his strength. The dragon had held sway over the village for far too long; it was time for the mighty Pippet to rise and conquer, with him protecting her back.

Today the village would unleash, and ensure all its enemies turned tail and ran for good.

Chapter 17

It stood to reason that after a morning with Finn including a love declaration, pleasure toys, copious orgasms, tender banter in the copper tub, and a delicious breakfast, her ledger would be balanced with an unexpected and decidedly unwanted visit from the person she loathed most in the world.

But she’d had quite enough. No more would the devil’s unofficial handmaiden shoot her poisoned verbal arrows, manipulate, or exert influence over Pippa Pinehurst’s life.

Giving Finn’s fingers a brief squeeze, Pippa then dabbed at her mouth with a linen napkin before staring directly at Lady Kingsford. “Is there an emergency? Because I don’t recall issuing an invitation. Nor do my husband and I appreciate you barging into our dining room and interrupting breakfast, especially with another uninvited visitor in Lord Campbell.”

“Hear hear,” said Finn. “Travers, would you escort Lord Campbell to the…yellow parlor. Don’t bother with a tea tray, he won’t be staying long.”

The butler bowed, his lips twitching. “At once. Please come this way, my lord.”

At first, the baron merely glared at Pippa. But he eventually departed the room.

“How unspeakably rude,” said Lady Kingsford. “I know I taught you better than that—”

“Good lord, here a few minutes, and already my patience has gone,” said Pippa as she rose to her feet. “State your purpose, and do recall that in Pinehurst House you hold no power whatsoever. No one will obey you. No one desires your opinion. Most importantly, I would not just threaten to have footmen escort you from the premises, I would order it to happen.”

Her grandmother blinked and turned to Finn. “Are you going to say something, Pinehurst? Or must your late father be shamed further by your weakness?”

Finn also stood. “Oh, indeed, I will say something. Three things in fact. First, I endorse everything my wife just said. Second, I suggest you remember she is Marchioness of Pinehurst and outranks you. Third, in future you will remain on your side of Hanover Square, for any visits will be strictly written invitation only. Each of my staff will be informed, and if you cannot present an invitation, the door shall be slammed in your face.”

Pippa smiled, although it might have been more a baring of fangs. “Now, once again, Grandmother, state your purpose or leave.”

Lady Kingsford gripped her reticule. “I…Lord Campbell…”

“Let us all go and discover his purpose,” said Finn, offering Pippa his arm. “Then you and him both may leave.”

As her grandmother was forced to trail behind them, Pippa glanced up at her husband as they walked to the parlor. He winked and covered her hand with his.

I love you.

The words crashed into her mind with the force of a battering ram. But when examined with all the cool logic she could summon, there was no recoil or dithering. Only certainty.

She loved Finlay Knighton, Marquess of Pinehurst. The way he supported her wholeheartedly, as he had done for sixteen years. The way he liked her just as she was. That he could stand his ground in an argument but also chide her without cruelty or spite. That he was a man she could cuddle on a chaise and read with. And last but certainly not least, there was his cock. His tongue. His fingers. And his hairy chest.

Gracious, she might have to write a list so she didn’t accidentally forget one of his many superior attributes. Then tonight when they had privacy, when there were no breakfast dishes or footmen, no devil’s unofficial handmaiden or puritanical baron cooling their heels in the parlor, she would inform him of his full promotion to Pippa’s Hero.

Not just satisfactory, but ode worthy in every way.

A few minutes later, they strolled arm in arm into the small and shabby yellow parlor, a space that probably hadn’t been entered for at least a few decades. As all the furniture was draped in sheets, Lord Campbell stood in the middle of the room, his arms folded and a dark scowl twisting his face.