The Duke's Wife (The Three Mrs #3) - Jess Michaels Page 0,31

room was silent for what felt like an eternity, and then Abigail covered her mouth and fled through the terrace door with a sob.

“Pardon us, Your Grace,” Lady Hartfortshire said with a little smirk, and then she left the room.

The Duchess of Abernathe remained for a moment. While the countess was known for her gossip, the duchess had always seemed to him to be a kind woman. Now she looked at him with what could only be called pity. She swallowed. “I-I will try to convince her to hold her tongue, but…”

He nodded. “I know her reputation as well as you do, Your Grace. I understand.”

She turned and hustled out of the room, and Nathan could hear her calling after the countess down the hall. But it was too late. No matter what was said, he and Abigail had been seen and there would be consequences to that.

He did not follow the duchess from the room into the hall, but pivoted to the terrace door. He stepped into the cool, looking for Abigail, but she was nowhere to be found among the other guests taking a bit of air. A few of them said good evening as he passed, and it took every ounce of control in his being to say it back as if everything in his life hadn’t just changed.

Not just being caught, although that was certainly part of it. But touching her. Touching her had been life changing. Powerful. Like opium, and he wanted more and more and more until all he knew was her taste and the scent of her desire and the way she felt when she arched beneath him in even more pleasure.

He shook his head. He couldn’t be distracted. He reentered the ballroom and lifted on his toes to scan the room. He still didn’t see Abigail, though with the crowd milling and dancing, it was entirely possible she was still here.

He moved into the masses, being bumped and jostled but barely feeling it as he looked for her. Instead, he found Rhys, Pippa, Owen and Celeste all standing together in a group. He moved toward them with what he hoped was a genuine enough smile.

“There he is! We were about to put out a search party,” Owen said with a laugh as he clapped Nathan on the back.

Nathan cleared his throat. “No need for that. H-have you seen Abigail?”

Celeste and Pippa exchanged a brief look, but then Pippa shook her head. “Not for a while, actually. Why?”

Nathan held his breath as he looked around again. He saw Lady Hartfortshire on the opposite side of the room. She was gathered close with a few other ladies, talking at what seemed an impossible rate of speed. The rest of the group turned toward him, their eyes wide and their mouths dropped open. Even the Duchess of Abernathe, who was shaking her head in some obvious effort to reduce the scandal, could not help.

“Bollocks, fuck and damn,” Nathan grunted.

“I beg your pardon?” Celeste asked.

“My apologies,” he said. “Christ, this is a mess. I…er…did something. And now it’s going to come back to haunt me.”

“Did something?” Rhys repeated slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s complicated, let me see if I can simplify for purposes of the emergency at hand. Er…I went to one of the parlors for a moment of privacy and…and Abigail and I ended up there alone and…we…that is…we…” He glanced at Pippa and Celeste in discomfort. If not in front of ladies, he could have been more direct.

“You kissed again?” Celeste asked.

“Again?” Pippa burst out. “What do you mean again? You and Abigail kissed?”

“Please mind your tone,” Nathan growled. “Yes, we kissed. But I’m afraid tonight it went a little…um…further. And we were caught by the Countess of Hartfortshire and the Duchess of Abernathe.”

There was a second of stunned silence from their group of friends. Owen was the one to break it. “Oh, bollocks. Even I know that Lady Hartfortshire is a dreadful gossip.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Rhys asked, his blue eyes snapping with anger, and worse, with disappointment. Seeing it there was a punch in the gut, one Nathan deserved for letting himself lose control.

“I think you know what I was thinking.” He arched a brow.

“Where is she?” Celeste asked, peering around the room as he had done a few moments before.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She ran out.”

“God,” Pippa whispered. “Come on, Celeste, let’s try to find her.” The women clasped hands and, with one last look at him,