Dangerous Liaison (Lords of Whitehall Book 2)

succumb and kiss her anyway.”
Tears ran down Sylvia’s face. Philly reached out to her friend and hugged her. It wasn’t every day a mother’s dearest wish came true. Moreham now had a countess.
“I think I am more than ready for the wedding breakfast. Sylvia, I am getting too old for all these machinations of people’s lives.”
“We have done nothing untoward.”
“How can you say so? We have plotted against Moreham from the first. Who thought to arrange they meet in my library? Who sent word to Whitney to return home last evening?” Philly demanded.
“Yes, I’m guilty on both counts. Don’t forget, you abetted me by remaining in the shadows that night. You are as complicit as I am.” Sylvia shot back. “Now, let’s be off to Whitney’s pile. We must console Isadora. Why she still harbors such ill feelings toward Moreham over that business last season with the Phillips gel, I have no idea. I have told her time and again, she is wrong.
“Isadora Grimsley has always been a stubborn one. How do you think she managed to steal Whitney from me? She’ll come around. She has to, we won’t allow any other outcome.” Philly replied.

Chapter 5
Whitney Place
Earl and Countess of Moreham’s Wedding Breakfast
Moreham sat at the head of Whitney’s table with Gillian by his side. This had to be a dream. Any moment he would awake and be in his own bed. How could he have entered St. George’s a bachelor and exited a husband? The absurdity of that question led to another observation. How many men left those sacred walls thinking the exact same thought?
Walking down the aisle with Gillian’s hand barely touching his arm, her posture as ramrod straight as his own spoke of the challenge they both faced in the days ahead. For a moment, he regretted ever answering her summons. Why had he not departed the moment she appeared? Why had he stayed?
When had the woman become so important to consume his every thought? He wanted to carry her off to his townhouse and seduce her into submission. To make her his. Gillian Browning was a stranger. He knew nothing of her, but he did know she would not be a compliant little wife.
He was an experienced man who enjoyed women, but he’d always kept a practical perspective where his lovers were concerned. The gnawing need in his insides to have Gillian in his bed, wrapped in his arms, locked in their own world shocked him to his toes.
He had ordered the countess’ suite of rooms to be readied for her. His mother had vacated the rooms soon after his father’s death. She insisted he was the earl and only his wife should reside in the countess’ suite. Moreham decided his wife would never sleep in her own bed.
“Why are you grinning like a barn cat with a cup of cream?” Gillian whispered.
“I’ve decided this marriage business is not so bad after all. I find I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”
Gillian turned her back to their guests. She stared over his shoulders. Never met his gaze with her own. “I find it humorous that I must be the one to remind you of your duty. We’re still at odds and will be until my uncle’s name is cleared. Should you prove his guilt, we both are aware this marriage will become an albatross bound around your neck.”
Gillian finally lowered her eyes and looked in the eye. “You see, Moreham, I’ve learned well at Aunt Isadora’s knee. A few words and I can wilt any man’s resolve to…well you know better than I what a man is thinking at his wedding breakfast.” She leaned forward, pressed her lips to his cheek and laughed.
His cheerful demeanor fizzled as quickly as the bubbles in his champagne glass. The lady had achieved her goal. Moments like this reminded him of Gillian’s connection to Whitney and Arnold. God’s truth, he may have married a traitor until death did them part.
“Moreham.”
He looked up to find Gillian watching him.
“James,” he said.
“Is that your Christian name?”
“Yes, no one has ever called me by that name. I’ve always been addressed by my title. Even as a child. For you to address me as James will provide my mother with incontrovertible truth that our marriage is a true love match.”
“James. I like it. I have never addressed anyone so informally. I’ll only do so when others are around.”
Moreham liked hearing his name on her lips. Was this what married couples did? Have quiet moments fraught with closeness and understanding, an intimacy unique to them alone.
“James, I know this is all very new to both of us. I hope we can learn to deal with each other with a modicum of respect.”
“Your wish is my command.” He took her hand then pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Her eyes widen as he licked her skin. Gillian’s breath came in shallow puffs. Her cheeks reddened as he leaned down and took possession of her lips. He forced himself to hold back. It would never do to lose himself in his desire to ravish his bride at their wedding breakfast.
Moreham lifted his head and waited. Gillian opened her eyes, now filled with awe. The woman was enchanting. Why had he not realized the passion she possessed? Then he knew. He had known. Gillian had called to him like a moth to a flame. If he had remained behind his desk, one of the others would now be the one tied to Miss Gillian Browning.
A spasm shot through his body at the thought of this woman not being in his life, such a ridiculous notion after such a short acquaintance. Meeting Gillian had upended his world.
“Hmmm, yes, a kiss to seal our marriage vows.” Gillian pulled from his embrace and looked around the room. “I think we should circulate amongst our guests. We’ve provoked my uncle’s patience as much as we dare.”
He heard the uncertainty in her voice.
“Whitney’s pile is larger than