Notorious (Rebels of the Ton #1) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,98

they? “Things are slowly going back to the way they were before.” She chewed her lip before adding. “I’m afraid she feels betrayed by me.”

“She will get over it in time.”

Drusilla wasn’t quite so certain. “I also think she has developed other interests. At least she seems somewhat distracted.”

“Oh? You mean new friends?”

Drusilla thought about Eva’s confession that she’d been spying on Visel. She could not betray her friend yet again. So she said, “I don’t know.” It was a truthful, if evasive, answer.

“Eva has her quirks, but I’m sure she’ll come around eventually. You are her best friend, after all.”

Drusilla wasn’t sure it was only the issue of the duel that was bothering Eva.

“Are you still riding with her in the morning?”

“I haven’t gone the past few days but I know she goes with Byer.” He glanced down at her, his lips twitching. “I have always wondered if she might be a little sweet on him.”

“Byer?”

“I can tell by your tone you do not agree?”

“Indeed, no. She teases him, but I believe she views him as yet another brother.”

“Hmm. Has she any particular partiality for any of the young gentlemen?”

“Not that I’ve seen.” In fact, her friend seemed to have closed off the possibility of love and marriage in her mind. Although they never spoke of it, she knew the strain of madness in her mother’s family was an issue that weighed heavily on Eva’s mind. Her elder sister, Catherine, had married, but to a young baron who’d been injured in the war and could not have children, which was exactly what Eva’s shy, quiet sister had wanted: no chance to pass along the potential taint of insanity.

Drusilla understood all too well that any man wanting children, or with the responsibility of providing an heir, would probably not wish to take a woman with such questionable family history.

“Ah, here we are—Maison d’Hortense,” he said, opening the heavy wood–and–beveled glass door to the Frenchwoman’s elegant little shop.

Any opportunity for private conversation was over.

* * *

It was a few days after their shopping trip—and the first night since their marriage—that they had no plans for the evening; at least not beyond dinner.

They ate at Exley House, along with three other couples and an assortment of unmarried young men and women—no doubt invited for Eva and Byer. Drusilla found she enjoyed going out in public, now that she could put behind her the days of awkward introductions to young men who clearly had no interest in meeting her. Behind her also were the days of worrying about chaperones. So, when dinner had finished, she and Gabriel were free to wander the extensive Exley House gardens by themselves.

Although there had been no resumption of flirtation like that the night of the Renwick ball, they’d conversed on a wide range of topics without devolving into an argument as they used to do.

Drusilla had wanted to tell Gabriel that she’d severed ties with Theo. She’d been eager to terminate her relationship with the young man, so she had contacted the members of her small group and called a special meeting. His behavior that day had been a sore disappointment. In spite of his letter, he’d continued to behave just like a rejected lover. It had made her and the other members of her small group intensely uncomfortable. She had regretted that she’d misjudged him and was glad that was their last meeting.

She’d been on the verge of telling Gabriel about Theo during their walk in the garden, but she hadn’t wanted to drag such a negative subject into what was a lovely evening.

They stayed at Exley House for another hour, and then Gabriel, to her surprise, begged his mother’s pardon and asked to leave early.

Lady Exley had looked at her son with a concerned notch between her eyes. “You are tired, Jibril—the skin beneath your eyes is bruised.” She glanced at Drusilla. “Take my son home and pamper him, my dear. Every man is a big baby who loves pampering.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and fired off something in Arabic. Lady Exley laughed and waved goodbye.

After they were settled into the carriage, he turned to her. “I told my mother her tongue was so loose it would fly away if it wasn’t attached.”

Drusilla gave a scandalized laugh. “What a dreadful thing to say to your mother.”

He grunted. “It is the only thing to say to a mother like mine.” He turned to her, his gorgeous features shadowed but still distinct thanks to the small lantern in