Dangerous Liaison (Lords of Whitehall Book 2)

make the offer to leave in the morning. Whitings is a half-day ride from Town. We’ll have two days to search the house. What do you think, my new wife?”
“I think as you said, we must see this through to the end and pray we are wrong about Uncle Whitney. I’ll send a note around inviting ourselves to tea.”
“Wonderful.” Lady Sylvia shouted, “Timmie!”
The butler appeared in the doorway. “Send one of the footmen up to my rooms and fetch down my traveling desk.” She continued. “I’ll do the same. I’ll postulate about the joining of our two families. Isadora will have no choice but to extend an invitation.”
Timmie returned with the writing supplies. Gillian and his mother made quick work of their notes and Moreham summoned a footman to deliver both missives. To his great relief, his mother decided she must return to Philly’s townhouse out another day gown for their visit to Whitney Place. In the space of a quarter hour, he once more had Gillian to himself. Not that he had a single notion of what to do with her.
He turned back to Gillian only to see her attempt to hide her yawn. The poor dear had to be exhausted. Perhaps the simplest course of action was to escort his wife to her bedchamber and leave her in peace. He was rather tired himself.
He walked over and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Gillian, we have both had a long day. If we are to call on the duke and duchess this afternoon for tea, may I suggest we take a respite?”
He almost smiled at the look of relief on her face. He gave her his arm and led her to the stairs. The entry hall was empty except for Timmie and the footmen stationed outside the library. The hall looked barren now the other household staff had returned to their duties. He matched his steps to hers as they ascended the steps.
The earl and countess rooms were on the garden side at the back of the house on the third floor. Their rooms were side by side and shared a balcony. Moreham opened the door to the sitting room.
“Our apartments consist of our bedchambers and this sitting room. My mother insisted on the sitting room, when she married my father. This room is where we gathered in the evenings to read for as long as I can remember.
The room was breathtaking. Drapes, carpet and wall coverings were a deep red with gold accents. Moreham…um…James might have a smaller residence than her uncle, but he certainly lived as lavishly.
She stood in the middle of the room and looked around. Moreham came up behind her and stood. Gillian looked over at him. “This room is lovely, quite breathtaking. I can see a family sitting here enjoying each other’s company.”
Moreham motioned to the double doors to the left. “Those doors lead to the earl’s, or rather, my bedchamber.” After a moment, he motioned to the door on the far side of the room. “Your bedchamber is through that door.”
Gillian gulped hard. “I must own I assumed I would be staying in a guest room not the countess’ rooms
“Why ever would you think such? You are the countess, so you occupy the countess’ rooms.” Moreham’s warm breath tickled her neck. “Would you like to see your bedchamber? Your maid should be waiting for you.”
He threw open the doors then stood back to allow Gillian to step into the bedchamber first. Candles lit up the white and gold decor. The room positively glowed. All she could do was stand in the middle of the room and stare. The sumptuousness of the chamber stole her breath.
These room outshone her room in Whitney Place for the last four years where she’d woke every morning to the sound of the deliverymen coming and going. Uncle’s cook, known for her parsimony, argued with each and every tradesman over the quality of the foodstuffs. Gillian rose with the first cock’s crow and rode in the park because of the cacophony in the yard below her window.
She walked over to the wall of windows to find her room looked out over a garden. No deliverymen would wake her tomorrow morning.
“Why are all these candles lit?” Moreham’s voice broke through the quiet.
The man looked so at sea over her presence. She felt rather sorry for him. She was not the only one fumbling for solid footing. For a man who did not consider the married state one he wanted to experience, he now found himself with a wife.
“I would venture to say your servants have a romantic bent. It is your wedding night, after all.” She forced a smile to her lips. One never knew who was lurking about.
To prove her point Maisy entered the room from another door. “Oh, my lady, I didn’t know you were here. I’ll come back in a few moments.” The maid scampered from the room before Gillian could say a word.
Feeling more than a little uncomfortable standing in a bedchamber with Moreham, Gillian returned to the sitting room. Moreham followed her. She turned her attention back to Moreham. “My rooms are lovely. Thank you for seeing to them.”
“I must own that I had nothing to do with this. I would wager a monkey that my mother had a hand in this. I would also say the refreshing of the room’s accoutrements required more than this morning to bring about. More likely. The transformation took several days which means I should talk to my mother and determine what role she played in our betrothal.”
She whipped around and gave him a hard stare. “You will do nothing of a sort. We are where we are because of our own actions. Your mother may have had a hand in Uncle Whitney discovering us in his bookroom, but we both went into that room knowing full well we could be caught. I will find a moment to thank her. You will say nothing.”
Moreham growled and