Dangerous Liaison (Lords of Whitehall Book 2)

would not be able to have such a conversation without fainting. They were in a bed together. Both needed to rise so they could begin their day.
At that very moment, persons unknown were plotting to overthrow the king’s government and put Napoleon on the throne after almost a thousand years of sovereign rule, and he was unsure how to remove himself from his bed. The absurdity of their current dilemma was funny. He couldn’t hold back the laughter.
Gillian leaned over and swatted at his arm. “Stop laughing. This is not funny. I must return to my room and dress so we can leave for Whitings. Before tonight, we must have some rules on how we will go on if we are to share a bed.”
The arrival of the tweenie to see to their morning fire waylaid further conversation. Gillian’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the young maid. To his delight, his bride wiggled under the bedcovers out of sight.
He lifted the covers so he could see her. “Gillian, what are you doing?”
“I’m trying to hide. What will that girl think of us? She’ll tell the servants. How mortifying. Everyone will think we have been doing…well you know what they will think. I can only speculate.”
“Dearest, Bessie is no different than the tweenie who lights the fire in your bedchamber at Whitney House.”
Gillian shot him a withering look. “Moreham, there is a huge difference in the tweenie here and the tweenie at Uncle Whitney’s house. Uncle’s tweenie has never come into my room to light the fire and found a man in my bed.”
The tweenie, like all the members of his household staff was well trained to be invisible. If the girl could hear what they were saying, she’d never give any sign she did. Once the fire was lit and going, the girl left the bedchamber without a backward glance in their direction.
Moreham agreed with Gillian, the girl would have everyone’s attention at the staff breakfast table this day. He wouldn’t tell Gillian, but having the young girl spout off about the master and his bride in his bed would do much to put down any gossip about their marriage. He couldn’t have asked for a better start to the day.
“You can come out now,” he said to the lump in the bed.
Gillian tossed the covers aside and glared at him. “The maid thinks we have done all sorts of naughtiness in this bed. We will be the topic du jour below stairs. How brides survive the mortification of that assumption by everyone is beyond my comprehension.”
“Dearest Gillian, husbands and wives have been comporting themselves just so since Adam took a bite of Eve’s apple. Our little maid is scurrying down the back stairs to tell the others the earl’s bride is hiding under the covers. You’ve given Timmie and the staff something to laugh about. Of course, that same tattle will make its way across the square to Philly’s household. Ergo, to my mother.”
Gillian groaned. “Moreham, you can be so insufferable! Go away so I can return to my bedchamber and dress for the day. You did say you wanted to make an early start this morning.”
Moreham laughed at her and unfolded himself from his bed. He was rather proud of himself for being so considerate of his wife’s feelings.
“You are so right, Gillian. We mustn’t tarry this morning. The horses will be at the front door within the hour.”
“I’ll go first. Once I’m gone you can run for your sanctuary and ring for your maid. She’ll bring you the requisite cup of chocolate and buttered toast.”
“Is that all I get to break my fast? Chocolate and bread? What about eggs and a rasher of bacon?” She demanded. “I intend to join you in the dining room for a real breakfast?””
This woman was indeed an anomaly. Even his mother preferred to take a tray in her room.
“Yes, of course, I never thought ladies ate hearty first thing in the morning. I would enjoy the company. Meet you downstairs in half an hour?” He sketched a low bow and laughed.
He took his leave but played the scamp by not closing the dressing room door completely. He got quite a show when his wife jumped from his bed with her long legs showing from under her well-worn nightrail. The door closed behind her, leaving him wanting to insist his valet hurry so he could join her in the breakfast room all the sooner. Maybe marriage wasn’t such a trial after all. With the right woman.
After a quick wash, Moreham hurried into the breakfast room to find Gillian sitting with a full plate of eggs, potatoes, and a rasher of bacon in front of her. Her grin was infectious, and he responded in kind. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy.
Timmie placed his plate in front of him. Gillian sniffed then raised her napkin to her nose.
“You don’t like kippers?”
“I am not sure if I do. I have never managed to get past the aroma to taste the dish. My stomach is too delicate for that fare.”
Fortunately, his mouth was empty when she replied. He leaned over and nodded at Timmie who stood at the ready by the sideboard. “Oh, my sweet little Gillian, Timmie is within earshot. The kitchen will be abuzz with speculation you are with child. The spies will run across the street and pass on the news. My mama will be beside herself. We must hurry or we won’t leave Town until nuncheon if mama calls.”

Chapter 9
As soon as James left the room, Gillian threw off the bedcovers, grabbed her dressing gown and shoved her hands into the sleeves. She made for the door to the sitting room and a mad run for her bedchamber. She gave the bell pull a tug.
Once the maid appeared, the two of them made quick work of her toilette and dressing her for the ride to Whitings. Within a quarter hour, Gillian was dressed in a