Notorious (Rebels of the Ton #1) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,25
a duke? She shivered again. And the sisters of a duke? More shivering.
And Gabriel? Well, he gave her shivers of a completely different sort. He was far too good-looking for any woman’s peace of mind, and he’d made his opinion of Drusilla plain years ago. To him she was nothing more than a dowdy nuisance to be tolerated because of her connection to his sister. If disaster hadn’t befallen them, he doubtless would have been betrothed to Miss Kittridge at the end of the Season. Two perfect people together, as it should be.They would certainly have had the most gorgeous children . . .
“Miss Clare?”
Drusilla looked up to find Theo Rowland standing only a few feet away. She knew his lodgings were in one of the many bachelor dwellings that were not far from Piccadilly.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Rowland.” Drusilla’s lips curved into a genuine, welcoming smile.
“What a delightful surprise it is to find you here.”
Drusilla cocked her head. “A surprise? But today is Thursday.”
“Yes, but—well, I wasn’t certain you were still coming.” Theo gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.
“Why?”
A red stain spread across his pale cheeks. “Well, because of last night.”
Drusilla’s mouth dropped open in what she was sure must be a singularly unattractive expression. “You heard?”
He grimaced. “I’m afraid all of London has heard by now.”
She didn’t know what to say—why hadn’t she guessed as much? He was, after all, related to a baronet even if he did not mix in ton company. And there were always the papers. Just because she didn’t read the scandal sheets didn’t mean others didn’t. She glanced around, looking for the rest of the group. “Are we the first to arrive? Are we early?”
“Er, about that . . . I’m afraid you might be angry with me.”
“Whatever for?”
“When I heard what happened last night, I took the liberty of sending word to the other members and told them you probably would not come today.”
“Oh.” Drusilla tried to hide her disappointment and irritation. He had taken a liberty, but there was nothing to be gained by pointing that out. Instead she said, “I was so looking forward to seeing everyone.” She realized how rude that sounded and smiled at Theo. “Not that I’m not very happy to see you, Theo.”
“I apologize if I overstepped.”
“No, of course not—how could you? It is our group, not just mine.”
“I only did it for your own comfort.” He was sounding a little sulky.
“Yes, of course, Theo. It will be fine.”
“And it is only for a week—you will see them all at the next meeting.” He hesitated and then asked, “Unless—surely you’re not leaving London because of this?”
Drusilla realized they were still standing on the sidewalk. She turned to Fletcher, whose disapproval rolled off her in almost visible waves. “Come back for me in half an hour, Fletcher.”
Her maid did not move. “But—” Her eyes slid to Theo, the message clear: there was no meeting; why was she staying?
“Half an hour,” Drusilla repeated.
She waited until Fletcher stomped away before turning to Theo and shaking her head. “You know how protective she is.”
“And with good reason,” Theo said, opening the door to the quaint tea shop where they usually met with the other members. The group focused on helping powerless people who could not help themselves. To that end, they’d endowed four women’s homes in London and an orphanage in Brighton, among other things.
From the very first, Drusilla had felt a kinship with Theo. He was a man whose dedication to the plight of women—especially poor women—was as fervid as her own. The fact that a man from the aristocracy could care for something other than drinking, gaming, and horses had been a revelation. In the half year he’d belonged to the group, he had facilitated the establishment of three new women’s homes, all in other large English cities. It had been Drusilla’s hope to visit these new endeavors this fall, which was when Theo said they would be operating and ready for inspection. And now what would happen to all their fine plans?
Oh, Gabriel had said she could go on the same as ever, but she suspected he would draw the line at her traveling the country to inspect poor houses—especially in another man’s company.
“Hello, Miss Clare, Mr. Rowland. I’ve held your regular table.”
Drusilla smiled at the woman who hurried out from behind the pastry counter and led them to the table in front of the bow window where they usually sat. It was just past