Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,107
there now. It would give you time to decide what to do, to plan, to—”
“Yes!” Time was exactly what she needed. She was heartsick and could hardly think. Her head was pounding.
“We better make haste,” Talbot said. “I imagine he’ll be returning home soon.”
Who even knew? Perhaps he’d gone to the woman’s home. She had no notion how those things worked. “I don’t want to cause a row with the two of you. I know things have not been smooth.”
“Do not fret, Guin.”
She frowned. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him not to call her Guin. It was improper, but more than that, Asher had called her Guin. He’d been the only person to ever do so. But that was not what was most important right then. If Asher had thought he could wed her for gain, then she supposed he had used her for passion until he tired of her. Clearly, he’d done so quickly. Well, she was not going to await his return and play the meek, biddable wife.
“She’s not been here that I’m aware of,” Guinevere’s mother said from her place on the settee, “but I’ve been lying down with a horrible megrim, which I still have,” she finished, giving him a severe look. Before Asher could respond, the woman started screeching for her other daughters.
Within moments, not only did Guinevere’s two sisters and Lady Lilias appear in the parlor but two women Asher thought he recognized appeared, as well.
“Mama,” said Guinevere’s most outspoken sister, Lady Frederica, stepping forward, “you need us?”
“It seems your sister told Carrington she was coming here, and as you know, I’ve not been feeling well. Have you seen her?”
Asher did not correct the woman’s assumption that Guinevere had been the one to tell him where she was going. Cushman had said that Guinevere had departed with Pierce and a packed trunk just moments before he’d returned home, and she had told Cushman that Pierce was taking her to her parents’ house.
Asher was trying to keep a rein on his worry, but it was becoming damn near impossible.
“Mama,” Lady Frederica said smoothly, “go lie back down. You looked flushed. I’ll help Carrington find Guinevere. I imagine they had a row?”
All the women who stood with Lady Frederica stared at him now, and the stares were not friendly. If they only knew the half of what an ass he’d been.
“I do feel horrid,” Lady Fairfax said, rising. “If you’ll excuse me?”
He nodded, and she started to turn toward the door, but then she looked over her shoulder at him. “Did you have a row?”
“It’s my fault,” he said simply, not wanting her to blame Guinevere.
She smiled. “Well, at least you are wise enough to realize it.”
The moment she was out the door, angry voices erupted.
“What have you done?” Lilias demanded.
“You should apologize when you find her,” a woman with black hair snapped.
Lady Frederica held up her hand. “This helps nothing!”
Silence fell, and she turned a critical eye on him. “Guinevere has not been here today. What happened?”
He flicked his gaze to the women he did not know, but Lady Lilias said, “You may speak freely among us. This is Lady Abigail and Lady Emmeline. We are all members of the Society of Ladies Against Rogues.”
An uproar started once more, but this time he was the one who stopped it. He smacked his palm against the table nearest him, and all eyes were on him once more. “The what?”
“Lilias!” Lady Vivian protested. “It’s a secret society!”
“Well, yes, but it says in our bylaws that if one of us should wed, she has the right to tell her husband of the society. Did Guinevere not tell you?”
“Nay, but ye shall.” He clenched his jaw.
“It’s a secret society to help unsuspecting women not be ruined by rogues,” Vivian said, giving him a pointed look.
It made sense now why Guinevere had been in the library the night of the Antwerp ball. It was just like his wife to put herself in harm’s way to help others. She had a big heart, and he had trampled on it again. He had hurt her five years ago, and it didn’t matter that he had not intended to do so. And what had he done when she had bravely revealed how she felt to him? He’d answered her unspoken plea with words he knew she didn’t understand.
“Guinevere has fled me, it seems,” he said.
“Oh my,” Lady Vivian said. “For you to drive her away, it must be