excuse he could make for his downright stupidity and every promise he could make to Gabriella to assure him of his desire to be a faithful husband.
When the curtain lowered this time, Nick’s father offered to get the ladies drinks and Lady Chetfern excused herself.
“Gabriella,” he said quietly, “that looked very bad but I assure you I was tricked into joining Miss Wainwright in that box. She grabbed me and I tried to be a gentleman and ease myself away from her gently but then you came in and…”
“Nick, please, I beg of you. Speak of it no more for now. Come back to your parents’ townhouse after the performance and we will discuss it then.”
“No one else is in the box and I need you to understand what was going on.”
“Oh Nick, I know very well what was going on. Now here is your father. Keep the hangdog expression. It is working well.”
Nick frowned at his betrothed. Keep the hangdog expression? It is working well? What in blazes did she mean?
This was going to be a terminable few hours.
****
Nick followed his betrothed into the blue drawing room of his parents’ townhouse, a knot of dread in his stomach. Surely she would at least hear him out and allow him to share his side of the story.
Gabriella turned and gave his mother a reassuring smile. He glanced round to see his mother nod and indicate the doors. Of course they would leave the doors open. Moments later he heard the door to his mother’s morning room open. He waited. Gabriella took a seat on a chaise near the fire and indicated he should take the seat opposite her.
“Before we start, I owe you an apology,” Gabriella said quietly. Nick was sure his eyebrows had just met his hairline he was so astonished. Why would she think she owed him an apology? “I felt it important you look as uncomfortable and worried about my reaction to the…predicament in which we found you…as possible.”
“Gabriella, I assure you…” But she held her hand up to halt his words again. Frustration was beginning to get the better of him. He huffed out a breath, further annoyed by the fact he suspected he had not made a sound like that since before going to Eton.
“My brother seems to think I am an imbecile. I don’t know if he believes this mark on my cheek is a sign that my brain does not work properly, but he has always treated me like a halfwit. I know that you were set up. But I did not want him to know his ploy had not worked out.”
“You knew?” A mixture of relief and irritation washed over him. He’d been at that theatre for four hours contemplating his fate, wishing he too could have died at the hands of Brutus, only for her to tell him that she knew he had been set up.
“Of course I knew. No one organises a secret tryst at the theatre. It’s far too open and public. And even if you were having an affair, you are far too much of a gentleman to be caught in a compromising situation with your mistress. You would have a house for her and you would bed her there and you would make sure you did your best to keep it a secret from me.”
He sighed. “I would not have a mistress. Gabby, I want our marriage to work. I have no interest in the Miss Wainwrights of this world. She offers every man her favours and though few resist her, she is not respected by them.”
“Perhaps Joseph would have got away with it if he had not used his own mistress in his plan. That was rather stupid of him,” she mused almost to herself.
“You knew she was his mistress.”
Gabriella rolled her eyes. “The whole of the ton know Miss Wainwright is his mistress. Even Edna knows.” He nodded. “Has she ever been your mistress?”
Her question seemed to hit him in the chest. Like a cricket ball coming in from a fielder that one had not anticipated.
“Not as such.”
“Not as such?”
“We did…” he made a rolling motion with his hand. “About three years ago. One night. I…well I was a little foxed and well…men have needs.”
She nodded.
When the curtain lowered this time, Nick’s father offered to get the ladies drinks and Lady Chetfern excused herself.
“Gabriella,” he said quietly, “that looked very bad but I assure you I was tricked into joining Miss Wainwright in that box. She grabbed me and I tried to be a gentleman and ease myself away from her gently but then you came in and…”
“Nick, please, I beg of you. Speak of it no more for now. Come back to your parents’ townhouse after the performance and we will discuss it then.”
“No one else is in the box and I need you to understand what was going on.”
“Oh Nick, I know very well what was going on. Now here is your father. Keep the hangdog expression. It is working well.”
Nick frowned at his betrothed. Keep the hangdog expression? It is working well? What in blazes did she mean?
This was going to be a terminable few hours.
****
Nick followed his betrothed into the blue drawing room of his parents’ townhouse, a knot of dread in his stomach. Surely she would at least hear him out and allow him to share his side of the story.
Gabriella turned and gave his mother a reassuring smile. He glanced round to see his mother nod and indicate the doors. Of course they would leave the doors open. Moments later he heard the door to his mother’s morning room open. He waited. Gabriella took a seat on a chaise near the fire and indicated he should take the seat opposite her.
“Before we start, I owe you an apology,” Gabriella said quietly. Nick was sure his eyebrows had just met his hairline he was so astonished. Why would she think she owed him an apology? “I felt it important you look as uncomfortable and worried about my reaction to the…predicament in which we found you…as possible.”
“Gabriella, I assure you…” But she held her hand up to halt his words again. Frustration was beginning to get the better of him. He huffed out a breath, further annoyed by the fact he suspected he had not made a sound like that since before going to Eton.
“My brother seems to think I am an imbecile. I don’t know if he believes this mark on my cheek is a sign that my brain does not work properly, but he has always treated me like a halfwit. I know that you were set up. But I did not want him to know his ploy had not worked out.”
“You knew?” A mixture of relief and irritation washed over him. He’d been at that theatre for four hours contemplating his fate, wishing he too could have died at the hands of Brutus, only for her to tell him that she knew he had been set up.
“Of course I knew. No one organises a secret tryst at the theatre. It’s far too open and public. And even if you were having an affair, you are far too much of a gentleman to be caught in a compromising situation with your mistress. You would have a house for her and you would bed her there and you would make sure you did your best to keep it a secret from me.”
He sighed. “I would not have a mistress. Gabby, I want our marriage to work. I have no interest in the Miss Wainwrights of this world. She offers every man her favours and though few resist her, she is not respected by them.”
“Perhaps Joseph would have got away with it if he had not used his own mistress in his plan. That was rather stupid of him,” she mused almost to herself.
“You knew she was his mistress.”
Gabriella rolled her eyes. “The whole of the ton know Miss Wainwright is his mistress. Even Edna knows.” He nodded. “Has she ever been your mistress?”
Her question seemed to hit him in the chest. Like a cricket ball coming in from a fielder that one had not anticipated.
“Not as such.”
“Not as such?”
“We did…” he made a rolling motion with his hand. “About three years ago. One night. I…well I was a little foxed and well…men have needs.”
She nodded.
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