Dangerous Liaison (Lords of Whitehall Book 2)

as his mother’s voice rang out with disbelief “—you mean to say the first Duke of Whitney was the one who encouraged dear sweet Anne to marry that old reprobate? Whitney, you are fortunate your ancestor did not lose his head when the queen lost hers or you wouldn’t be with us.”
Moreham ushered her through the door. “Mama, I wish you would discuss a subject more current…our marriage for instance. Oh good, there’s tea.”
Lady Philly shot him a disdainful glare. “Moreham, of course, there’s tea. We are here for tea. Issy —”
“—Philomena do not call me that horrid diminutive. You know I abhor being called so. I have told you exactly that many times.”
“Your Grace, I have known you since we were both in leading strings. I called you Issy then and I will continue to do so.”
Before either lady could say another word, Uncle Whitney interrupted. “Moreham, shall we leave the ladies to their tea and adjourn to my study?” Whitney asked, “I normally would say very few visit my private sanctum but as we all know, you have already availed yourself of a sojourn in my bookroom.”
Gillian desperate to keep Moreham at her side, reached for her uncle’s hand. “Uncle, I hoped you would forgo taking yourself off. It’s my wedding day after all
She turned to Moreham, hoping he would rescue her as he’d said he would. The blasted man hesitated. Didn’t he know one did not do so when in a room with her aunt and Lady Philly? Only a man would find the ladies constant bickering amusing.
She wanted to stand up in the middle of the quarrelsome group and scream for everyone to be quiet. Instead she gave her new husband a second speaking look.
Moreham raised his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes in the direction of their fractious relatives. Only when he stood did she relax. “Your Grace, I would like to say a few words?”
The others stopped talking and gave him their undivided attention.
“Whitney, I promised my wife if she should want to leave to give me a sign and I would take her home. Gillian has just done so. I do have something to say first before I honor my vow to her.”
Lady Sylvia feigned a confused countenance while Lady Philly smirked at her aunt.
“Tomorrow morning, Gillian and I will be leaving Town. I want us to enjoy a short wedding trip.” He took her hand and smiled. “It was supposed to be a surprise, dearest. I hope you are pleased.”
She smiled at him so broadly that her cheeks hurt from the strain. “You dear man. You are too good to me. A trip to the country is just the ticket for us both.
I wanted to make you all aware of our plans.” He turned to her and winked as he helped her stand.
Whitney’s head popped up from his contemplation of a seeded cake. “A wedding trip now? No, no that will never do.”
Lady Sylvia reared back in her seat. “And may I ask why you have any say in the travels of the Earl of Moreham and his countess?”
Whitney looked from Moreham to Gillian. “We have need of Gillian. She must attend our house party at Whitings. Isadora and I are leading the caravan in two days. Someone must go in advance to see all is in order at the house. She always sees to the details of these affairs for us.”
“That may have been the case before but now she’s married. I’m stunned you would ask that of her. Not well done of you Whitney. Not at all.” Lady Philly chimed in with a huff.
Not to be outdone, Lady Sylvia sat down her cup of tea and directed a hard look at both Gillian’s aunt and uncle. “Whitney, Isadora, you have a household staff to see to it your wishes are carried out. Send them a letter detailing what you want done. Moreham and Gillian are deserving of some time to themselves.”
Gillian remained silent for the several seconds before moving into the second act of her performance. “James, I do feel badly for our hasty wedding. Aunt Isadora and I sent out the invitations for the house party and the guests will arrive in three days. In all the excitement, I forgot all about it. Perhaps we could start our wedding journey at Whitings?”
“After the house party, we could continue on to that lovely hunting lodge in Scotland you told me about. Do you mind, dearest?” She puffed out her lips in what she hoped was a flirty pout. From the gleam in Moreham’s eyes, she failed. No doubt she looked more like one of the carp from one of his lakes near that Scottish hunting lodge he kept mentioning.
She fought the urge to bash him on the arm for making light of her efforts as a new bride. The room was quiet while everyone stared at them. They couldn’t have planned the conversation to move forward more smoothly.
Moreham grinned and winked at Gillian. “Dearest, if you want to attend the house party before proceeding on, we shall. I did wish to have you to myself for a few days…”
Whitney laughed. “Oh, Moreham, if I may suggest, take your bride off to Whitings in the morning and you will have two days to yourselves before the duchess and I arrive with our guests. We’ll delay our departure for another day.”
“Whitney, what a wonderful idea. What say you, wife? A few days alone before the horde arrives?”
Gillian leaned over and kissed his cheek. His mother’s sigh was the only sound in the room.
“Thank you, dearest.”
“My pleasure, maybe in the country we will manage to enjoy a meal without family encroaching on our time together.” She burst out laughing at the sight of his thunderous glare directed at his mother. To Gillian’s delight, his efforts fell short of the mark as his mother beamed at him.
“Whitney, how generous of you. The rest of us will arrive on Tuesday by nuncheon,” the countess gushed.
Gillian