Married to the Rogue (Season of Scandal #3) - Mary Lancaster Page 0,30

himself gazing at her, rapt, from her slender fingers to her expressive face. He felt as if he was a youth again, enraptured by the accomplishment of some beauty who had caught his erratic attention.

But Deborah was no air-headed debutante. Nor would she have been regarded as a beauty by Society’s opinions. But she was beautiful. He had never appreciated the difference before.

He blinked, realizing he was in danger of being caught spellbound by his own wife, which would only embarrass them both. Instead, he glanced at his grandfather, who looked, if anything, slightly chagrined. No doubt, he had wished to show her up, but he should have known that anyone who intended to be a governess would have had at least some skill on the pianoforte.

Dudley led the applause when she finished. Even his grandfather clapped politely. Deborah, however, flushed and looked embarrassed by the praise. She seemed relieved by the arrival of tea and occupied herself with pouring it out.

He could not help being glad when their guests chose an early night, so he could only imagine how Deborah felt. He was just pleased she didn’t immediately run off to her own chamber.

He went to the decanter and poured two glasses of brandy, bringing one of them back to her.

“I expect you need it,” he said wryly, and she took it with one of her quick, oddly charming smiles.

“I don’t believe I have ever drunk brandy.” She sipped it warily. Her eyes widened, and she licked her shapely lips before taking another.

He dropped into the chair next to hers. “You deserve it. Well done. You managed them beautifully. I hope it wasn’t too much of an ordeal.”

“Actually, no,” she said, sounding surprised. “I find it easier to be with strangers when I am the hostess. I understand what I’m meant to do, and I just kept reminding myself that I was your wife with not only the right but the duty to look after them.”

“Did you suffer at the princess’s?”

“No. But it was…different. I had other duties, and I was always with a more senior lady. Lady Meg was most helpful.”

“Meg Winter?”

She nodded. “Do you know her?”

“A little. I know all the family. If Meg is a friend, has she written to you?”

“No, not since we parted in London. Why?”

“I was just wondering about this scandal at the princess’s house.” He sipped his brandy, then said abruptly, “There is some spite afoot there that has included you, though I can’t work out who would do such a thing or why. Whoever did it has made enemies of at least two powerful families, and no one would do such a thing lightly.”

“The Prince Regent might. He need not care about mere dukes or earls, and he would not regard our lost reputations as anything important if he could humiliate his wife one last time.”

“Barden,” he murmured thoughtfully. “The Regent’s snake.”

“Lord Barden was there,” Deborah said. “Hazel thought he saw us leave the house in the morning. Perhaps he thought knowing such gossip made him important.”

“Perhaps.” Christopher wasn’t convinced. He sipped from his glass, considering it. “Do you know him well? Does he have any reason to dislike you?”

“He never spoke to me. I think I conducted him once into the princess’s presence. Beyond that, I never spoke to him.”

“And yet you were brought there that evening as the others were.”

Deborah thought. “The princess did not like Lord Barden. In fact, shortly after I began there, she refused to speak to him and insisted the prince send a different gentleman when he communicated.”

“Did she say why?”

“She told me he insulted Hazel Curwen, another woman of the bedchamber, who was with us that night. But if Hazel spurned him and caused the princess to complain about him, why would he involve the rest of us? Including the daughters of important noblemen?”

“I have no idea,” Christopher admitted. “In any case, let us not worry about what we cannot change. I expect our marriage will make him look silly. I meant to send a notice to The Morning Post, but I will certainly do so tomorrow.”

She nodded without commenting. She took another sip of brandy and set the glass down. After a few moments, she asked, “How long will Lord Hawfield stay?”

“We can eject him whenever you wish.”

She smiled. “I would not be so rude to your grandfather, the head of your family! Should we halt the work for now?”

“Under no circumstances. He can put up with the inconvenience or go away. Same

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