Desiring Lady Caro by Ella Quinn Page B

look like. You’d be right noticeable on a horse.”
    Damnation . If they thought he was going to tell Caro, they deserved to be in Bedlam. Extensive experience with angry women told him he’d be better off playing least in sight until the fracas was over.
    Huntley raised a brow and fixed Dalle and Raphael with a firm gaze. “Which one of you is going to explain this to her ladyship?”
    Dalle gave him an innocent look. “We thought you’d do it, your lordship.”
    Ha. They were delusional. Huntley looked down his nose. “Then you thought wrong. I have a better sense of self-preservation than that.”
    “You sure, my lord?” Caro’s groom grinned knowingly.
    “Very.”
    Dalle screwed his face up as if he were in pain. “I reckon it’ll take both me and Raphael to explain.”
    “I wish you joy of it.” Huntley took a swig of wine. “Collins, you can tell me when it’s safe to make an appearance.”
    Huntley held Collins back when the other two left. Once the door was closed, he asked, “How are we fixed for weapons and ammunition?”
    Collins scratched his cheek. “Pretty well, my lord. I’m told both her ladyship and Miss Nugent are good shots.” He paused for a few moments. “You want me to make sure everyone’s armed tomorrow?”
    “Yes. I want to be prepared for whatever happens.” Huntley would like nothing more than to grind the marchese under his boot, but he had the feeling his wife wouldn’t appreciate such a primitive display of masculine power. He grinned. He’d let the marchese make the first move. “We will not start the fight.”
    “No, my lord.”
    After his groom left, Huntley poured another glass of wine. At least they’d eat and drink well on this trip. Huntley’s muscles hurt just thinking about how stiff he’d be to-morrow evening after another full day in the coach. He tossed off his wine. It was time to go to bed. He’d have an irate wife in the morning; he didn’t need a headache as well.
    He went to his chamber and gave Maufe his orders.
    “Just what I suspected would happen, my lord.” He helped Huntley out of his jacket and hung up the clothes. “I’ll go down now so that the landlord has some warning.”
    Huntley climbed into his cold bed and pulled up the cover. His wedding night . Damn. One day he’d have one, but it wouldn’t be to-night. He prayed that one day his wife would look forward to time alone with him in a coach, but it wouldn’t be to-morrow. What would it be like to have Caro, warm and lush, next to him? His body sprang to readiness with arousal, and he punched the pillow. One day couldn’t come soon enough for him.

CHAPTER 7
    A ntonio was almost half-way back to Venice before he’d recognized his mistake, leaving the inn in Verona. After stopping at a posting house and arranging for new horses, he’d sent messengers out in all directions. One by one, his servants returned with no news of where Lady Caroline might be. Only the rider he’d sent north had not yet arrived or sent a message.
    Waiting for news, Antonio paced the large chamber he’d demanded from the innkeeper. He’d been so shocked at the announcement of Lady Caroline’s—no, the Countess of Huntley’s—wedding, that he had not thought it through properly. Antonio punched the wall next to him. He should have dragged her out of the room. What did it matter that she and Lord Huntley were wed? Many men had married women for mistresses, and Lady Caroline would be his. Diavolo . If he’d taken her to-day, she would still have been a virgin for him. An image of her spread beneath Huntley as he pounded into her raged in him. He ground his teeth. Antonio refused to be cast down. He would keep Lady Caroline as his mistress, until the Englishman died. If Huntley remained alive Antonio would have to marry another woman, but that was no trouble. His grandfather would arrange for a suitable match, and after his wife had given him a son, she could go her own way.
    Of course, if Lady