Lady Eve's Indiscretion

the small matter of the, um, fees, for the filing and so forth.”

In other words, unless Hooker’s bill was brought up to date, there would be some delay in the filing of the petition, then another delay involving some redrafting, then a delay to further research some specious detail, all of which would add substantially to the unpaid bill.

“Have you an accounting prepared, Hooker?”

“It so happens I do, your lordship.” He snapped his fingers at the clerk, who melted from the room. “Allow me the honor, your lordship, of congratulating you on your recent nuptials. I understand one must act with dispatch sometimes in arranging the ceremony, though might I inquire as to when the settlement negotiations will take place?”

This question, with its unflattering implications toward Deene and his bride, Hooker did not ask before his minion.

Deene tugged on a pair of riding gloves. “The negotiations are concluded. I’ve reached a private agreement between me and the Windham family, a copy of which is kept with my personal papers, and another given into the keeping of the lady’s brother, the Earl of Westhaven. The arrangements did not affect the business of the marquessate.”

“That is very unusual, my lord.”

“I want control of my situation, Hooker, just as I want control of my niece’s future. I should hope you are clear on that point, if no other.”

The clerk returned with another sheaf of papers bundled together, this time with a gold ribbon. Such wits, these lawyers.

“I’ll bid your lordship good day, then. Again, congratulations, my lord.”

Deene did not leave in any particular hurry, but the more time he spent among his solicitors, the more he dreaded the very scent of the place: old books, anxiety, and greed. That he would pollute the early days of his marriage with these trips to Town was a measure of how desperately he wanted to resolve Georgie’s situation.

He was unmercifully plagued with the knowledge that he had yet to fully explain the matter to Evie. He waited for a quiet moment when he might casually mention it, but the quiet moments were so precious with his new wife, and they invariably became, or immediately followed, passionate moments.

He sought for a pause in the activities in the stables when he might casually pass along some relevant asides, but how to frame such a problem as this?

“By the way, I’ll be plunging us into scandal and penury, attempting to gain custody of my niece.”

“Don’t take this amiss, but I’ll be wrecking the peace of our union by litigating a family issue in public.”

Almighty God in heaven, he had to tell her and soon, before some well-meaning gossip—or Windham family member—decided to see to the matter. If his marriage was to enjoy one-tenth of the potential he sensed it had, then he must find a way to make Eve understand Georgie’s situation, and soon.

Deene climbed into his coach, equally preoccupied with the thought of joining his wife for dinner and the notion that he ought to pay a call on Dolan and make one last offer to settle Georgie’s future like… civilized men.

“Gentleman” being too far a stretch for such a one as Deene’s brother-in-law.

“Was this meeting any more successful than its predecessors?”

Anthony lounged against the squabs, looking as if he’d had nothing better to do than catch a nap in the middle of the afternoon.

“You’ve taken to lurking in coaches, Cousin?” Deene settled beside him on the forward-facing seat.

“Discretion seemed the better part of valor, and no, I didn’t plan on this. Rather than loiter in the street, I appropriated a bit of privacy. I didn’t know you’d be in Town today.”

“I did not particularly want to be in Town, but the pleadings in Georgie’s case are finally drafted.”

Anthony smiled faintly. “So holy matrimony is agreeing with you?”

“Quite.”

His cousin’s smile became wolfish. “And your marchioness, is she similarly pleased with the institution?”

The question rankled. “It is my pleasure and duty to ensure she is.”

Anthony’s smile faltered. “Quaint, Deene. I give it two years or one healthy son, whichever shall first occur, and you’ll be living separately.”

“I believe we’ve had this discussion. How goes the planting in Kent?”

Deene managed to keep the conversation oriented toward innocuous matters until they reached the Mayfair townhouse. The footmen were waiting outside the coach, the steps in place, when it occurred to Deene that marriage had put an option in his hands he needed to exercise.

“Eve and I will be spending more time in Town as time goes on, Anthony.”

“Is it wise to be showing her off when the rumors are still circulating at a great rate?”

“I want her to show me off, you idiot. The wedding should have the rumors scotched quite neatly.”

Now Anthony looked pained.

“Spit it out, Cousin. I was going to say I’d understand if you wanted your own establishment in Town, since dwelling with a pair of newlyweds might not be to your taste.”

Anthony’s brows rose. “My own…? You think I’d desert the cause now, when just last night some jackass had the temerity to intimate your situation with Georgina might be comparable to Byron’s with his half sister?”

Rage welled at Anthony’s quiet question. Rage and a determination to see Jonathan Dolan ruined. Byron was rumored to be the father of his half sister’s third child, though proving such a thing was impossible.

“Who said that?”

“I will not tell you. The man was far into his cups, and his fellows shut him up immediately with apologies and excuses all around. I did not want you to know, because now you’ll challenge Dolan and you a newlywed and it all just being talk and a duel being no better for Georgina’s situation than outright murder.”

“Talk that vicious is going to ruin Georgina’s life, Anthony. Dolan has to be stopped.”

But why now? Why must this issue be coming to point non plus now, when all Deene wanted was to spend time with his wife?

Very likely because Dolan had planned it that way.

“If I need a second, Anthony, will you serve?”

“Of course. Is there anybody else you’d like me to speak to?” The reply was gratifyingly swift and certain.

“Not yet. Even asking such a thing will fuel the rumors.”

“Then I shall keep my counsel and wait for further orders from you. My regards to my new cousin, the marchioness.”

Anthony climbed out, and when Deene wanted to head directly for Surrey, he instead followed his cousin into the town house, wrote several notes to be delivered by messenger, and only then allowed himself to turn his direction toward home.

* * *

“My love, I grow concerned.”

Kesmore’s expression suggested he wasn’t quite teasing, though in the course of their marriage, he teased his lady wife a great deal.

“Then I am concerned as well,” Louisa replied. She had to stifle a yawn as she spoke though, since his lordship’s version of a late-afternoon nap could leave even a stalwart wife more drowsy than refreshed.

“Such loyalty.” Kesmore rolled to blanket her naked body with his own. “I should kiss you for it.” He did, a lovely, thoughtful coda to the beautiful composition that was Joseph Carrington in an amorous mood.

When Louisa could form coherent sentences again, she seized the moment. “What’s bothering you, Joseph?” Whatever it was, it could not be of too great moment, given that her husband’s body was indicating a notion to add another movement to his most recent marital sonata.

He nuzzled her neck. “I got a note from Deene this morning, delivered out from Town by private messenger.”

No man had ever used his nose to such great advantage in the course of marital relations. Louisa’s husband had a way of breathing her in, canvassing her features with his proboscis, gathering her scents the way other