The change in him had certainly shocked society, though. So had the unexpected announcement of their engagement. Hearts were broken across England, widows were aghast, and the book at White’s received a thorough going-over to see what old bets had come due, waged over Christopher being leg-shackled to a wife. But whenever anyone at the clubs asked him about his old plans to become a vicar, he grinned and answered, “Why give my life to God, when I can give it to a goddess?”
Diana found it easy to embrace a new life with him, especially now that she knew her family was safe. The French had been notified by the Foreign Office that they had retrieved the diary and destroyed it, thus ending any more attempts to come after it. Yet the loss of the diary didn’t stop the general from finishing his memoirs and publishing them to great acclaim, including grudging praise from Wellington.
Tension still existed between the general and her brother, despite his true role in all this being revealed. But their relationship was improving, and the two men were finally taking the time to get to know each other, as they’d never done before. Garrett had accepted the position with the Foreign Office that Kit had declined. It wasn’t the daring work of a field operative by any stretch of the imagination, but it was important—a government position that the general could finally brag about his son holding, and one at which Garrett could be a public success.
The rowboat bumped against the island.
“We’ve arrived.” He jumped out and pulled it up the bank, then held out his hand to help her from the boat. “Welcome to your honeymoon, Mrs. Carlisle.”
Warmth bubbled inside her as she slid her hand into his and felt his strong fingers close around hers, only to gasp with surprise when he grabbed her into his arms and lifted her from the boat in a laughing circle. She flung her arms around his neck and clasped herself to him as he carried her away from the lake and down a wooded path toward a little stone cottage nestled among the trees.
“Will this do, my queen?” He nodded toward the hermitage.
Perfectly. Not trusting herself to speak, she answered by running her fingers through the dark gold hair curling at his collar and reveled in the contradiction of him. Of soft hair between her fingers and steely arms around her.
Since they left Bradwell two months ago, they hadn’t had the opportunity to make love, having to settle for a few stolen kisses and touches. Now her heart pounded wildly in anticipation of being beneath him again, of wrapping her body around his and giving herself in sweet surrender. The throbbing ache between her legs was impossible to ignore, as was the way her nipples had already drawn up taut beneath the bodice of her wedding gown. Unable to keep still against her growing need for him, she shifted in his arms to rub her breasts against his chest.
His arms tightened around her, and his stride increased.
She laughed wantonly and untied his cravat, pulling it off his neck and letting it dangle from her hand before dropping it to the path. Then she placed her lips against his bare neck and kissed him, open-mouthed and with every intention of how else she planned on kissing him once they were finally hidden away inside the cottage.
But she couldn’t resist touching him now. She unbuttoned his waistcoat as far as she could reach, then wiggled her hand inside his shirt to caress his bare chest. As he carried her over the threshold and into the cottage, a masculine groan tore from the back of his throat. He shut the door shut behind them with an impatient kick.
“The bedroom,” she ordered breathlessly, her fingertip toying with his flat male nipple. “I can’t wait a moment longer.”
His arms shook around her as he carried her up the stairs, and she knew it wasn’t from the exertion of carrying her from the boat.
The small attic room had been transformed, with a lace canopy draped softly over a large four-poster bed made up with satin sheets and a down-filled, velvet duvet. Red and pink rose petals lay scattered across it.
That he had gone to this much trouble… Her eyes stung. “Make love to me, Christopher.”
Her soft demand was tempered by a sultry, lingering kiss to his lips, one that surely tasted of her love for him and her utter happiness that he belonged to her. All hers. Finally and forever.
“Yes, my queen.” He placed her onto the bed and followed down on top of her. “My angel.”
Historical Note
Home Office and Foreign Office and War Office…oh my!
One of the biggest difficulties I had in writing this novel was researching all the various government entities that would have had a hand in stopping espionage plots in 1824 and where their jurisdictions ended or overlapped, especially as their organizational structures kept changing. Because this book involved an army officer giving secrets to the French on English soil…oh, the confusion! So here’s a bitty primer to help you keep them all straight.
To begin, there is the War Office. Under the auspices of the Secretary at War, this office was responsible for carrying out all the administration for the army, home and abroad. But it did not oversee the colonies or military policy—that was the responsibility of the Secretary of State for War and the Colonies, a.k.a. the War Department (we’ll get to this one in a moment). In other words, it was responsible for the day-to-day minutiae that kept the army functioning rather than for grand strategy.
To confuse matters, the Secretary at War and the War Office were considered subordinate to another cabinet level position, the Secretary of State for War and the Colonies, who was known colloquially as the War Secretary and led what was referred to as the War Department. This department was responsible for the supply of equipment to the armed forces, the pursuance of all military activity, and the administration of the colonies. Confused yet? I am…but wait! It gets worse, because in 1855, the two secretary positions were combined under the Secretary of State for War, and the terms “War Department” and “War Office” were used pretty much interchangeably from then on.
In 1824, when Kit and Diana’s story is set, the War Office was still under the auspices of the Secretary at War. So, oversight of officers like General Morgan and Major Paxton, in their military roles, would have fallen under the overarching War Department, and under that, the subordinate War Office. Do you remember Thomas Matteson, Marquess of Chesney, from the Secret Life of Scoundrels series? As a former army captain, it would have been a natural fit for him to slide from the army into the War Office, where he could have become an operative within the War Department, keeping track of military affairs and information for Lord Bathurst, Secretary of State for War and the Colonies, a.k.a. the War Secretary. The same with Nathaniel Grey.
And then there are the Home Office and the Foreign Office.
Prior to 1782, all foreign and domestic affairs were governed by the Northern Department and the Southern Department. As their names imply, the Northern Department was responsible for all government interactions with northern European powers, and the Southern Department for interactions with southern European powers. But that wasn’t all—the Southern Department also oversaw domestic, Irish, and colonial policy. So in 1782, when a new organizational structure was needed and department responsibilities were realigned, it was only natural that the Northern Department became the new Foreign Office, responsible for foreign matters, and the Southern Department would become the new Home Office, taking over domestic, military, and colonial responsibilities. (Colonial and military affairs—with the exception of the militia, which remained under the Home Office—were transferred to new offices by 1801.)
So the Home Office became responsible for domestic policy. Specifically—and most importantly to our story—it became responsible for operating the secret service within the United Kingdom. Likewise, the Foreign Office was responsible for all foreign affairs, except for India. (Interestingly enough, part of its responsibilities today includes housing the Government Wine Cellar. Now THIS is a government agency I could love!)
What made doing research for this story so confusing was trying to figure out where one office’s juri
sdiction ended and another began. Were Russian diplomats watched by the Home Office or the Foreign Office? Was it the Home Office’s responsibility to stop French operatives on British soil or the Foreign Office’s? If a Home Office operative like Kit Carlisle got himself involved with French operatives in England, who is responsible for stopping him? And, historically, many of the secretaries, under-secretaries, and other administrators frequently moved between the departments in service to the Crown, which makes Grey’s movement from the War Office in Along Came a Rogue to the Foreign Office in this novel quite common (and a helpful plot device). Also, the offices were often collectively referred to as Whitehall, from their office locations near the former Whitehall Palace; this colloquialism for the British government is still in use today. That’s why you’ll see the government offices referred to collectively as Whitehall throughout the novel.
I did my best to keep them all straight, both here in this note and in the novel itself. I hope you enjoyed all the intrigue.
Now…how do I find my way to that Foreign Office wine cellar?
Dear Reader
Hello! And thank you for reading AFTER THE SPY SEDUCES, book #6 in my Capturing the Carlisles series. This book was five years in the making, since 2014 when I came up with the idea for my first series, the Secret Life of Scoundrels. That series ended on a mystery—who provided the list of agent names to the Earl Royston that he sold to the French? I knew even then that I wanted to write a second series about the Carlisles and tie both series together at the end by revealing who had given over the names and how. I hope you enjoyed traveling this journey with me (and in seeing Diana Morgan finally capture her Carlisle!). Although no more full-sized books have been envisioned for this series, I am hoping to write a novella for Hugh Whitby…and who knows? Perhaps other books will follow in the years to come as ideas come to me. The Carlisles *are* a very big family, after all.
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Haven’t met the Carlisles yet? Then are you in for a treat! The three overly protective brothers from HOW I MARRIED A MARQUESS (a RITA Award finalist) have gone from being the scourge of Mayfair to the heroes of the ton. When they meet three very special women, they’ve met their matches—in more ways than one. A sneak glimpse into Book 1 in the series, IF THE DUKE DEMANDS, follows below.
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Coming in the spring of 2020, I’m launching a new series with SourceBooks that I hope you will enjoy—The Lords of the Armory. Based upon Marvel comic book characters, the books follow a group of former soldiers who have banded together to fight an evil organization called Scepter…and who find love in very surprising places along the way.
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Thank you again for reading this book. If you want to stay in touch and keep up with my latest releases, contests, and more (including all those pictures of the roses from my garden—I cannot help myself!), be sure to sign up for my newsletter. You can also follow me on Bookbub where you’ll receive news of all my releases and on all my social media sites.
♥ Happy reading!
Anna
Excerpt from IF THE DUKE DEMANDS
A special glimpse of IF THE DUKE DEMANDSby Anna Harrington, Book #1 in the Capturing the Carlisles series:
Miranda Hodgkins has only ever wanted one thing: to marry Robert Carlisle. And she simply can’t wait a moment longer. During a masquerade ball, Miranda boldly sneaks into his bedchamber with seduction on her mind. But when the masks come off, she’s horrified to find herself face-to-face with Sebastian, Duke of Trent—Robert’s formidable older brother. Sebastian offers her a deal to avoid scandal: he’ll help her win his brother’s heart if she’ll find him the perfect wife. But their simple negotiation spirals out of control. For the longer Sebastian tries to make a match for Miranda, the more he wants to keep her all to himself.
* * *
Sebastian nuzzled his mouth against her ear.
Miranda gasped. That, oh, that was clearly not an accidental brush of whispering lips! He’d meant to caress her, and the warm longing it sent spiraling through her nearly undid her. Drawing a deep breath as she threw all caution and sense to the wind, she tilted her head to give him access to her neck, unable to deny the temptation of having his mouth on her.
With a pleased smile against her ear, he murmured, “What is it about my brother that draws you so?”
The tip of his tongue traced the outer curl of her ear. She shuddered at the delicious sensation, and his hand pressed tighter against her belly to keep her still in his arms.
The confusion inside her gave way to a tingling warmth that ached low in her belly. With one little lick, Sebastian had set her blood humming, making her body shiver and her thighs clench the way he had that night in his bedroom when she thought he was Robert. She knew who was kissing her this time, yet knowing he was the wrong Carlisle brother made no difference to the heat rising through her traitorous body. She should step away—this was Sebastian, for heaven’s sake, and the most wrong man in the world for her, save for the king himself—but she simply couldn’t make herself leave the circle of his strong arms.
“Robert is masculine,” she breathed, her words barely audible above the aria swirling around them.
“Most men are,” he answered, dancing kisses down the side of her neck.
When he placed his mouth against that patch of bare skin where her neck curved into her shoulder, a hot throbbing sprang up between her thighs. She bit her lip to keep back a soft whimper.
“He’s handsome,” she forced out, hoping he couldn’t hear the nervous trembling that crept into her voice.
“Hmm.” His hand on her hip drifted upward along the side of her body, lightly tracing across her ribs. She trembled achingly when his fingers grazed the side swell of her breast. “We’re brothers. We look alike.”
Oh, that was definitely jealousy! But her kiss-fogged brain couldn’t sort through the confusion to discern why he’d be jealous of Robert. Especially when his hand caressed once more along the side of her breast.
“Not so much alike,” she countered, although she’d always thought Sebastian would be more handsome if he wasn’t always so serious and brooding. If he did more spontaneous and unexpected things…like licking a woman on her nape at an opera. Oh my. She shivered at the audacity of his mouth and at the heat it sent slithering down her spine.
“Very nearly identical,” he murmured as his hand roamed up to trace his fingers along the neckline of her gown. Completely unexpected yet wantonly thrilling, the caress sent her heart somersaulting just inches from his fingertips.
“He’s exciting…a risk-taker…” Her voice was a breathless hum despite knowing that in his rivalry with his brother he didn’t want to touch her as much as he wanted to touch her before Robert did. At that moment, though, with his fingertips lightly brushing over the top swells of her breasts, she simply didn’t care. At least not enough to make him stop. “He’s thrilling.”
When his fingertips traced slow circles against the inner curves of her breasts, she was powerless against the soft whimper that fell from her lips.
“Lots of men are thrilling.” He smiled wickedly against her neck at the reaction his seeking fingers elicited from her. “I’m thrilling.”
“You?” She gave a throaty laugh of surprise. “Sebastian, you’re the most reserved, restrained man I—”
In one fluid motion, he turned her in his arms and pushed her back against the set wall, his mouth swooping down to swallow her words as he kissed her into silence. Her hands clenched into the hard muscles of his shoulders, and she stiffened beneath the startling onslaught of his lips, of his hips pushing into hers, all of him demanding possession of the kiss. And of her.
Excerpt from AS THE DEVIL DARES
Enjoy this special except of AS THE DEVIL DARES by Anna Harrington, Book #3 in the Capturing the Carlisles series:
Lord Robert Carlisle never backs down from a dare. But finding a husband for scandalous Mariah Winslow is one challenge he instantly regrets accepting. Rober
t will have to use every trick in the book to marry off the woman known as the Hellion, no matter how stunningly beautiful she is. Mariah Winslow has no intention of being a pawn in Lord Robert’s game. She knows he only agreed to play matchmaker to secure a partnership in her father’s shipping company, a partnership that’s rightfully hers. Battle lines are drawn, and she won’t surrender—no matter how tempting and irresistible she finds him.
* * *
“Mariah.” Robert smiled against her cheek, and a stab of defeat pierced her. So Carlisle thought he’d won, did he?
Well, she’d prove to him that it would take more than a kiss to convince her to surrender.
When he stepped back, Mariah advanced.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and delved her fingertips through the golden curls at his nape, then pressed her body so tightly against his front that his heart slammed furiously against her chest. When she brushed her hips against his, a low
groan tore from the back of his throat.
Emboldened, she brazenly kissed him, and when he hesitated, stunned,
she slipped her tongue between his lips the way he’d done to her.
That was enough to snap him out of his reverie.
He grabbed her shoulders and demanded in a raspy voice, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Despite the racing of her heart, she forced a shrug of her shoulders. As if it
were the most obvious thing in the world. “Kissing you.”
Then she pressed against him again, her lips making fleeting contact with
his before he set her away. An angry scowl hardened his face.
“Don’t you want me to?” she prompted as innocently as possible.
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