She could barely contain herself as she tossed a blanket aside. The Pall Mall set would be resting in the corner, as it always was, and in just a moment-

“Looking for this?”

Kate whirled around. There was Anthony, standing in the doorway, smiling diabolically as he spun the black Pall Mall mallet in his hands.

His shirt was blindingly white.

“You…You…”

One of his brows lifted dangerously. “You never were terribly skilled at vocabulary retrieval when crossed.”

“How did you…How did you…?”

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “I paid him five pounds.”

“You gave Milton five pounds?” Good Lord, that was practically his annual salary.

“It’s a deuced sight cheaper than replacing all of my shirts,” he said with a scowl. “Raspberry jam. Really. Have you no thought toward economies?”

Kate stared longingly at the mallet.

“Game’s in three days,” Anthony said with a pleased sigh, “and I have already won.”

Kate didn’t contradict him. The other Bridgertons might think the annual Pall Mall rematch began and ended in a day, but she and Anthony knew better.

She’d beaten him to the mallet for three years running. She was damned if he was going to get the better of her this time.

“Give up now, dear wife,” Anthony taunted. “Admit defeat, and we shall all be happier.”

Kate sighed softly, almost as if she acquiesced.

Anthony’s eyes narrowed.

Kate idly touched her fingers to the neckline of her dress.

Anthony’s eyes widened.

“It’s hot in here, don’t you think?” she asked, her voice soft, and sweet, and terribly breathless.

“You little minx,” he murmured.

She slid the fabric from her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.