Philly folded her handkerchief and tucked it in her sleeve. “All of this to say Moreham had boasted to others of the dunking Brownley would suffer. When he was the one to get doused, he learned a hard lesson. Boasting is a fool’s game. A hard lesson for most to learn. All it cost Moreham was a dunking in the muck and a little ribbing from his school chums.”
Gillian rose to her feet and joined him by the fireplace. “I have only one question. Whatever happened to Nigel Brownley? I do not know the name. Does he come to Town?”
Moreham pulled her into his arms and frowned down at her. “Wife, you are a sassy piece of baggage.”
Cross, no longer laughing, interceded. “That is the best part of all. Moreham hired the man to be his steward. Nigel’s only request was to be assigned to an estate as far from the River Thames as possible. The fellow has lived for the last ten years, in Yorkshire. Not a river in sight!”
This time even Moreham broke out laughing. At that moment, he could never remember being as happy.
The joviality of the afternoon carried over into the evening. Gillian cringed at the twinge of guilt for enjoying her time with James and the others. Thought she tried to tell herself, Uncle Whitney was innocent, each day she learned more details that could only be mean he was guilty. The more she feared his guilt the more Moreham appeared to believe her uncle was being manipulated. She prayed Moreham was the one right.
For the first time since she had waited for Moreham to arrive at Philly’s house on Berkley Square the week before, her heart was lighter. Everyone decided to seek their beds after the ladies had enjoyed a tea tray in the drawing room. Moreham escorted her upstairs. Moreham ushered her into their sitting room. Once he closed the door, he leaned against the door and listened.
“What—”
“Shhhh…” He held up a finger to stop her from speaking.
After a few moments, he crossed the room and took her hand to lead her to the far side of the sitting room to a window seat. He pulled her down into his arms and leaned closer still to speak softly. His mouth feathered the shell of her ear. It tickled. “The footman? Do you know him?”
When she tried to answer he placed his finger over her mouth. “Whisper.”
She nodded. Deciding to give the man a bit of his own medicine she in turn leaned closer and pressed her lips to his ear. She relished when he shivered ever so slightly. “I don’t know him. But as I said, servants come and go at all the houses.”
“We must divine a way to visit Mama and Philly before dinner. We must keep them informed as to what we have learned today. I’d hoped we would have a moment tonight, but with the servants coming and going, I feared we would be overheard.”
Gillian looked around the room. Only when she spied the bookcases by the fireplace did she remember the hidden staircase.
“The middle bookcase is a door to a hidden staircase. The stairs run to all floors. Fortunately, the stairs to the floor above are in a sitting room next to your mother’s bedchamber. We will have to venture into the corridor but ’tis better than going up the main staircase.”
Moreham smiled at her and kissed her hard before releasing her. “Excellent. Shall we summon Maisy and Wilson and prepare for bed. When Maisy leaves you, wait until she opens the door to tell her that you’ll ring for her in the morning. I want the footman to hear you. He will think he has an easy night ahead of him. Once the house is quiet, we will go to Mama and Philly.”
Moreham moved away from her and took his warmth with him. He tugged on the bell pull twice. Then they both left for their respective dressing rooms.
As Moreham had instructed, Gillian made sure she called out to her maid, as she was about to leave her for the night. “Maisy, I’ll ring for you in the morning. The earl and I are exhausted and hope to sleep in.”
The maid bobbed a curtsey and left Gillian. Moreham opened his dressing room door carefully and joined her in their bedchamber. He joined her once more by the window. “Now, we wait another hour. You may want to rest on the chaise until the house quiets down.”
“No, I’m fine. The sooner we speak with the ladies, the sooner we can return to our bed.”
To her surprise, Moreham shrugged and availed himself of the chaise. He wiggled around until he was comfortable then proceeded to fall asleep.
Chapter 14
The minute hand on the mantel clock travelled tick by tick as she watched her new husband sleep on the too small chaise. What an interesting pastime to watch another sleep, especially a husband who never lowered his guard. Now she knew one of his secrets.
Her heretofore perfect specimen of a mate…snored. Not so loud as to keep her awake all night snore, but a rather comforting exhalation of air she found endearing.
“Ooohh!” Startled at the sight of Moreham’s eyes staring at her as she watched him, Gillian refused to be defensive for her intense regard. He was a virtual stranger who was also her husband. She was entitled to stare. Moreham rose to his feet and stretched his arms above his head with a moan.
“How’d you do that?” Gillian asked over the chiming of the clock.
“What?” Moreham frowned.
“How did you know to wake up before the clock chimed the hour?” She persisted.
“Oh that, I have this defined sense of time even when I sleep. Before I go to sleep, I just tell myself when
