Dangerous Liaison (Lords of Whitehall Book 2)

More House. I hope you’ll find More House to your liking.”
“Whitney Place is not my true home. I am most happy at Whitings, the duke’s country seat. Prior to my coming out, I resided there year-round. Once I was presented, Aunt Isadora preferred to stay in Town which meant I did as well.”
The pain in her voice caught him off guard. Gillian had led an uncertain life. An orphan and born on the wrong side of the blanket had caused her to fear for her safety. Had her presence in the duke’s household ever been questioned, Gillian would have been cast aside. This woman had known unconditional love, but she’d never trusted that love. Suddenly, the need to protect her slammed into his heart.
“Shouldn’t monopolize the bride’s attention, Moreham. You will have her all to yourself soon enough.”
Moreham looked over his shoulder to find both Cross and Sturm grinning at him.
“I am less than an hour married which entitles me to devote my attentions to my bride as I see fit,” he growled.
Cross leaned around him to take Gillian’s hand and kiss the air over her fingers. “My lady, I am most happy you accepted our friend’s proposal. He has been in need of a woman to tame his savage heart for far too long. I will enjoy watching you ensnare him in your amorous web.”
Gillian laughed at Cross’ words. Moreham relished seeing her remove her hand from the earl’s hold only to have Sturm swoop in and take her hand.
“My lady, please accept my wishes for a long and happy marriage. Our friend can be a trial at the best of times, but I do have faith in your ability to bring him around. If you find you need any insights as to how to deal with his little idiosyncrasies, please send for me. We roomed together at Eton and Oxford.”
Moreham heaved a heavy sigh and pointedly took possession of her hand with a glare at each of his friends. “Off with the two of you. I thought I asked the two of you to deliver a certain package to my estate in Northumberland. With Weatherington unavailable, I need you to make the journey with all haste.”
The two agents were escorting Thomas Jones, one of Percy Arnold’s compatriots, to his estate for safekeeping. After Arnold’s escape, Moreham refused to take any chances of losing another prisoner. Both gentlemen were to provide him with daily reports on their progress. Arnold’s friends were well organized and had proven to be formidable foes.
Cross slapped him on the back. “Moreham, nothing for you to concern yourself with on your wedding day. Two of our friends are at this very moment on the Great North Road with our charge. They left at first light. We will take our leave of you and your lovely bride and ride all out to catch up with the coach before nightfall. Don’t worry, I know if I had a bride as beautiful as the countess at my side, she would have my undivided attention.”
The scoundrel had the audacity to wink at Gillian. Both men laughed and bowed to Gillian before taking their leave and departing through the dining room doors. Moreham watched the door for a moment, waiting for the ever present need to join his friends. Instead all he felt was relief that two of the most charming noblemen in England were no longer smiling at his wife. The significance of not wanting either gentleman to touch her was not lost on him.
This woman would be the greatest challenge of his life. How did a man pretend indifference when his brainbox screamed for more of her? Her voice, her soft touch, her quirky sense of humor all called to him. Nothing had been the same since he’d stepped into Philly’s library.
He’d never own up to it, but he truly hoped Whitney was an innocent pawn in this 1804 Social Club business. He didn’t know how one went about being a husband but he would wager a handsome sum that tossing one’s father-in-law into Newgate would not be well received by his new wife.
After Moreham’s friends had departed, the wedding breakfast took on the aura of a wake instead of a wedding celebration, thanks to Aunt Isadora’s weepiness. Gillian was relieved when Moreham turned to her and suggested they take their leave of her aunt and uncle.
Within minutes of him saying so, they were out the front door and seated in his carriage for the ride to More House, a short ride away. She was surprised how much she was looking forward to arriving at her new home. She wanted to know all about the encoded message she’d found.
The carriage pulled up in front of More House and Gillian peered out the window. Laughter bubbled up at the sight of Moreham’s butler waiting for them buttoned up in his full-dress livery. This was her home. A warmth stole over her at that thought. She’d never had a home of her own before. The duke and duchess loved her and had provided for her every need over the years, but Whitney Place was their home, not hers.
Moreham once more preceded her from the carriage before handing her down to the street, shunning the help of his footman. She found the gesture sweet. She wanted to believe her new husband was possessive of her because of his affection. An unwelcome voice denied this and whispered he was playing a part and she must do the same. Would be best if she remembered their marriage was a sham.
“My lord, may I be the first to congratulate you and the countess on your marriage? The staff is turned out in their best livery and are ready to be presented to your bride, if you would but agree.” The old man beamed at Gillian.
“Timmie, I distinctly remember telling you there would be no ceremony when we arrived. Mrs. Timmons will show my wife to her rooms. Merciful heavens, man, we are