Dangerous Liaison (Lords of Whitehall Book 2)

cleared her throat. “My lady—”
“Oh no, you must call me Mama.” Lady Sylvia waggled her finger at Gillian.
“Mama, you were not invited to the party.” Gillian explained.
“Oh, dearest, I know, but that was before you married my son. We are your new family. Whitney, you would not countenance such a slight to Moreham, I am certain. Besides, you have that spacious house with what is…fifty bedchambers, at least.”
For a moment, Gillian felt badly for her uncle. The man truly resembled a carp well and truly caught on a bent hook.
Whitney cleared his throat. He looked to Moreham for aid. Gillian knew her aunt would rant at Uncle Whitney for falling into the earl’s trap. The last two guests, the duchess would want at Whitings were his mother and Lady Philly. Both ladies were a trial for her aunt. The three ladies had made their debut together. Since that first season there was always discord over who was the most fashionable, whose ball was the best attended each season and a myriad of other sore points each fostered with enthusiasm.
“Of course, Moreham’s family is welcome to attend,” Aunt Isadora said through clenched teeth as Uncle Whitney pulled out his handkerchief and wiped at the sweat off his brow.
Moreham squeezed Gillian’s hand, an affectation she found she enjoyed very much. She kept her head down closely examining the flowers in the carpet under her feet. She knew if she glanced his way, they both would burst out laughing. How she wished he could be present when the duke and duchess discussed this visit in the privacy of their rooms.
“Well, it is short notice, but we will make it work, won’t we Philly?” Lady Sylvia replied.
The mantel clock chimed the half hour.
Lady Sylvia jumped up then bobbed a curtsey to the duke and duchess. “Look at the time. We really must be off. Philly and I are expected at Carlton House this evening for cards. Moreham, I sent my carriage home. Would you mind taking us up in yours?”
“Of course, Mama. We’d be delighted to do so,” Gillian answered for him and hugged her aunt and uncle who both looked worse for the experience of their new relatives.
“Don’t fret, Aunt. I’ll see to it that all is how you wish it when you arrive.”
Moreham took her hand and walked at her side as they left Whitney Place in the wake of their two co-conspirators.
Once the four of them were in the carriage, Lady Sylvia patted Gillian’s hand. “My dear, you are a true joy to have among us. Your entreaty to Moreham was worthy of the stage. Have you ever considered treading the boards?”
“Mother, Gillian is my wife and will be the mother of my children. Please do not fill her head with nonsense about going on the stage.”
The carriage stopped in front of Philly’s townhouse and the two ladies disembarked with waves and promises to pass on Moreham’s regards to the Prince of Wales.
Moreham remained silent until they arrived home and were in their private sitting room with all doors closed.
“As for our visit, I think that went exceedingly well.” He said as he joined her on the settee positioned in front of the fireplace.
“Husband, you have a gift for understatement.” Gillian shot back. “That was horrible. The only person who behaved properly was Lady Philly and I am beginning to believe she is the puppeteer pulling all our strings.”
“You must learn to see beyond the obvious.” Moreham leaned over and whispered in her ear. “We now have two days to search your uncle’s house and lands. If someone in his household is involved with Arnold, then we will know before the guests descend on us. Once the guests arrive, it won’t hurt to have Philly nearby should we need assistance.”
“Very well, I bow to your much greater knowledge on such things. I’m certain you wish to deal with your affairs without me lingering to distract so I’ll go and see how Maisy is coming along with my packing.”
He snared her hand and kissed it. “Until dinner.” He grimaced as she left the room. He sounded like a besotted fool. He would do well to remember what was at stake here.
Moreham left on his own, returned to his library and called for his secretary to join him. After spending a few hours going over the latest reports from his estates. Dressed for dinner, he stood at the bottom of the stairs watching his wife—how odd that sounded—make her way down the stairs to join him for a quiet dinner. Just the two of them.
Yes, she was the epitome of English feminine nobility. Still her ignorance as to what transpired between a man and a woman rendered him speechless. In truth, her innocence paired with her quiet beauty sent his blood pounding southward.
No, she did not turn heads when she entered a room. One had to engage Gillian in conversation to see her beauty. Her eyes sparkled as if she knew a delectable secret no one else knew. Her smile hinted at a mischievous nature that would cause any gentlemen to consider spiriting her away to engage in naughtiness.
He stepped forward to meet her and reached for her hand. She smiled at him and in doing so presented him with a special gift. Moreham knew spending this time alone was dangerous. He should have invited his mother and Philly to dinner. He hadn’t done so because if he had his mother would have asked far too many questions about his feelings. One conversation he refused to have with his mother was one where she dissected his feelings. Nothing good ever came from such a discourse.
A man in love with his wife would never invite guests to dinner the day after his wedding day. The fact they were dining formally was bad enough. Had their marriage been of the usual sort, he would have asked Timmie to have dinner served in their sitting room. He would not allow this woman to worm