“I am as surprised asyou.”
Gideon turned as Jordan settled at histable.
“Who would have thoughtsuch four perfect rakes would fall so low as to be gleefullymarried and in love with their wives?” Jordan took a deep drink.“It is rather nauseating.”
“Your brother andCavendish married?” Gideon wasn’t surprised he did not know. Hedidn’t keep up with gossip, not like a proper member of theton should.
Jordan chuckled. “They—” he pointed tothe table “—each married one of the Duke of Danby’sgranddaughters.”
Gideon sat back. Those were very highconnections, though he wasn’t so sure he wanted that particularduke as an in-law. Rather frightening actually. The only person whocarried more power than Danby was the king, and even that wasquestionable.
“They all married withinweeks, even days, of each other, right aroundChristmas.”
“Arranged?”
Jordan barked out laughter. “One wayor another.”
Despite Jordan’s insistence that hewould never marry and give up his freedom, there was a bit oflonging in his eyes. Perhaps Jordan was rethinking bachelorhoodjust as Gideon was.
Gideon had never been againstmarriage, only against arranged marriages. He needed someone hewould get along well with. Someone with similar interests, or atleast an entertaining companion. Someone such as LadyMoira.
He didn’t know her nearly well enoughto make such a rash decision, which was why he didn’t tell her thathis home lay in a remote area outside of Selkirk, Scotland. Yet, ofthe few ladies he’d encountered in London thus far, only she heldany interest.
“What is wrong withOxfordshire?
Gideon refocused on Jordan andshrugged. He had promised the lady not to reveal her secret, andGideon was a man of his word.
Moira balled her hands into fists tokeep from clawing at her face. Nothing had ever itched so badly inher life. Not even the Stinging Nettles she’d encountered as achild.
“I’ve brought this foryou, Lady Moira.” Beatrice handed her a cool, moist cloth. Moiralay back on her bed and pressed it against her face.
“It is a shame your motherinsisted you go out in the damp air this evening.”
Moira peeked from beneath the rag.“You’ve been with me since I was ten, Beatrice. I am not sureeither of us will ever understand.” Moira adjusted the cloth sothat it covered her face, but not her mouth. “She wants to rid meof my freckles to be more attractive to gentlemen, yet insists I beout, despite being covered in this horrid rash, all because Ihadn’t been seen in four days.”
Beatrice tsked. “Cook suggested somelaudanum in your tea to help you sleep.”
Moira grimaced. She hated the taste,but if she didn’t do something, this infernal itching would keepher awake all night. “Very well. Please prepare a cup,” Moiramumbled and pulled the cloth to cover the rest of herface.
The only time in this long night herface had not bothered her was when she was distracted in thepresence of Lord Ainsely. What was it about him and why did shetrust him so? Nobody, above Patience, Pippa, Georgie, and Alvina,knew of her desire to live in Scotland and she knew none of themwould ever breathe a word of her secret. Yet she’d told Ainsely forsome reason. What had she been thinking?
Moira removed the rag from her faceand sat up. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood.What if he did tell someone, especially Nyle? Would her brotherkeep her from meeting any Scottish gentleman, or deny her hand inmarriage to any Scot who asked? What if her brother forbade her tobe so far away from the family? As long as she was unmarried, hehad the power to do just that.
She wheeled around and stalked to theopposite side the room before turning and retracing hersteps.
Nyle mustn’t ever learn of her plan,and she must speak with Ainsely soon, to make him promise onceagain not to tell anyone her secret.
She stopped in front of the fire.Perhaps Ainsely may even be of assistance. Moira sank down onto therug and stared into the flames. He had introduced her to the lasttwo gentlemen, and he had been to Scotland. Maybe he knew theperfect candidate for her husband. If the gentleman were a friendof Ainsely’s, all the better. She could do far worse in a lifelongcompanion.
Oh, if only it were Ainsely. But, hedidn’t have a Scottish accent or brogue, and his title was neitherScottish, nor did his last name have a Scottish ring. If it wereMcBaxter or MacBaxter, or McAnything, it would be different. It wasa shame too. Moira could see herself with Ainsely for the rest ofher life. Though on second thought, she could easily fall in lovewith him. So it was best he wasn’t a Scot. After all, her motherwarned that love led to emptiness and if one’s heart remainedprotected, it couldn’t be disappointed. Though her mother was wrongabout most things, Moira could not dismiss this warning. Not whenit was something she would have to live with for the rest of herlife.
If he were wise, Gideon would havegone to Hearne. Instead, he found himself on the stoop outside theHearne home. Oddly, this was the family residence, so why didn’tthe earl live here?
It was none of his concern. Gideonlifted his cane and knocked on the door. A stodgy butler opened andpeered down at him. Rather intimidating, given Gideon was not asmall man. He handed his card over to the servant. “Is Lady Moirareceiving callers today?”
The man took the card, squinted toread the writing, and opened the door further. Gideon steppedinside the quiet, empty foyer.
“One momentplease.”
Gideon was left standingwhile the butler disappeared down the hall. What am I doing here?
The butler returned a moment later.“Lady Moira will see you.” He turned. “If you will followme.”
Gideon did as he was bade, clutchingthe cane in his hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. Why suchnervousness? This wasn’t the first lady he’d ever called upon inhis life, though it may be the last.
He stopped the thought before it couldform any further and followed the butler into a blue salon
