Notorious (Rebels of the Ton #1) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,92
was very similar to hers, but decorated in soothing shades of brown and forest green. Two overstuffed leather chairs faced each other in front of the dormant fireplace.
“Please, sit.”
Her pulse was pounding in her throat and she hoped he did not see it. “I wanted to explain something to you.”
He raised his eyebrows and crossed one black pantaloon-sheathed leg over the other.
“It is about Mr. Rowland.”
His lips tightened, but he did not speak.
“I did not know he was coming last night.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I had forgotten all about the message he sent the night of our”—she broke off—“well, the message he sent the night we were married. I’m afraid that with everything else, it slipped my mind.” She ignored his skeptical look and rushed on. “The message was still in my dressing gown.” Drusilla held the paper, which she’d folded into a tiny rectangle, in her palm and offered it to him. “Please, read it.”
While he unfolded and read the letter, Drusilla smoothed her skirt. The gown was one of her favorites, although it was nothing particularly special. The color, a pearly off-white, was accented with a navy-blue sash that ran beneath her breasts, somehow managing to make them look far less conspicuous. It was probably old-fashioned and too modestly cut, but she believed it suited her generous figure.
She heard paper rustling and looked up to see him refolding the letter.
“When I found and read the letter, I sent him one in return—a letter saying I forgave him, but that he should no longer send me messages or attempt to meet me in private.” She swallowed, needing to prepare for this next part. “Apparently he was anxious that he’d not received a response. So he came here last night and delivered a note to Thomas and then waited in the garden.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I told him the same thing I said in my letter. Additionally, I told him it would be better if he left the group entirely. He asked to attend one more meeting and then agreed he would leave.”
Gabriel handed her the letter, his face still shuttered.
Drusilla could not tolerate the silence, the suspicion, no matter that she might deserve it.
“Do you believe me?” She held her breath while he stared at her—into her.
“Yes, I believe you.”
Drusilla dropped her head and closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing. She thought she might faint she was so relieved.
“I am glad you told me this, but I am also curious.” She looked up. “Would you have done so if I had not confronted you?”
Her face heated, but she wanted to be honest. “I would not have spoken of the matter.”
To her surprise, he gave a dry chuckle. “Well, at least you are truthful.”
“The reason I would not have told you is that I couldn’t believe you would credit such a story as true.” She laced her hands together and then unlaced them. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve allowed him to come to one last meeting.”
He shook his head, his eyes dark and serious, but his expression was no longer as hard as granite.
“And I want you to know that I have done as you said and have written a letter to Jenkins to explain about the work Mr. Rowland began in Birmingham and Leeds. He responded to say he would put one of his men on it immediately.” She exhaled a gusty sigh. “I should have done this from the beginning. But I was so excited about the notion of setting up more houses.”
He stood, closing the distance between them, holding out his hand and helping her to her feet.
“There is one more thing.”
“Oh?” He went still, as if he were girding himself.
“It is not more bad news. I just wanted to say I am pleased you will bring your son to live with us.”
His hand tightened almost painfully on hers, and she winced.
“I’m sorry.” He released her.
“You didn’t hurt me.” She forced herself to meet his eyes for her next words. “I told myself not to be insulted by what you said at breakfast—that you believed I would protest the fact you wished to be near your own child. I told myself you were thinking I possessed the sensibilities of a lady of the ton. But the truth is, you married a hardheaded woman of the merchant class. And also a woman who is concerned about the plight of the weak and dispossessed. What kind of a person would I