The Husband Trap by Tracy Anne Warren

was relaxed, friendly, yet still in command in a way her father never was with his own people. She knew Adrian had been in the military during the war. A decorated war hero, although he preferred not to speak of it. She wondered if this was how he had treated the men under his command. If they had revered him this much. She suspected they had. Suspected they had been willing to do anything—including offering up their own lives—for him and their cause.
    Introductions complete, Horatio made to follow them as she and Adrian started toward the stairs. She turned back, her heart pained when she realized she could not bring him inside. At least not in his present unkempt condition.
    “Would one of you see to my dog?” she asked the servants. “He is in need of a bath and a good meal. Then a walk afterward.”
    A long moment of silence commenced as all eyes turned to the canine behemoth standing next to the duchess. Each of them calculated the odds of their success in dealing with the beast.
    Then Robert stepped forward. A wiry, earnest young man with hazel eyes and close-cropped brown hair. “I’ll see to him, your Grace. I like dogs. We had four big ’uns when I was growing up. Though not as big as him.” He nodded toward Horatio. “Him and me will do, though.”
    “Thank you, Robert.”
    The footman stepped forward, taking Horatio’s collar in hand. The dog stood, unmoving, obviously reluctant to be parted from her.
    She leaned down, smoothed a hand over the dog’s ears. “Go with Robert. You have nothing to fear. You will be cleaned and fed and rested, and I shall see you in the morning.”
    Horatio whimpered as if he understood every word she said, unhappy at being separated from his savior. Another long moment passed, then tail down, he acquiesced, let Robert lead him away.
    She drew herself up, suddenly aware of what she’d just done. Gushing again over the animal. Had Adrian noticed her rather un-Jeannette-like behavior? She raised her eyes, found him waiting, watching, no outward sign of suspicion on his face.
    She raised her chin. “I should like the same,” she announced. “A bath and dinner as soon as it might be arranged. I feel quite travel-weary.”
    Mrs. Grimm swung forward, all business, quick despite her wide hips. “Of course, your Grace. All will be to your liking. Allow me to show you to your rooms.”
    The housekeeper ascended the stairs. The duke and duchess followed.
    Violet had her bath, then let Agnes assist her into a gown suitable for a quiet, at-home meal. The dress was comfortable, a spotted muslin in pale yellow with an overskirt of sea green that her maid declared made her eyes sparkle like jewels.
    She joined Adrian, finding him splendidly attired and looking quite elegant in his black evening clothes, worn in spite of the country setting. They shared a few moments of desultory conversation in the parlor before proceeding into the dining room.
    Mrs. Grimm had gone out of her way preparing the evening meal, Violet noticed, as one sumptuous course after another was presented for their delectation. Tender roast squab with raspberry sauce. Chicken and mushrooms in a delicate puff pastry. Roast beef and creamed baby leeks. Braised whitefish with lemon, capers and dill. Each successive course was served with a lengthy selection of accompaniments, including a cheese herb soufflé and stuffed baby eggplants. There were salads, relishes and breads as well. And for dessert Mrs. Grimm had chosen wisely, presenting a simple selection of cheeses and fresh fruit.
    Unlike the evening before, Violet ate with a hearty appetite. Consuming more than she usually did mainly because she was so hungry, but also, in part, as an effort to show her appreciation for the culinary effort and skill put forth for her and Adrian’s pleasure. She did her best to sample a selection of as many dishes as she could comfortably manage, finding them all equally delicious.
    “Wherever did you find Mrs. Grimm?” she