When a Rogue Meets His Match - Elizabeth Hoyt Page 0,74
“But you don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
“Well, Uncle Augustus.” Lucretia helped herself to another cake as she shared a glance with Messalina.
Did she know of the old man’s threats?
“Why go at all?” Gideon asked.
“It seems Aunt Ann has decided that the ball is to honor our marriage,” Messalina answered.
Gideon had raised his teacup to his lips but hadn’t taken a sip yet. He paused, looking over the rim at Messalina to assess her emotions on the matter.
Messalina gave a small smile back at him. “The theme is probably Uncle Augustus’s idea. Poor Ann simply does as he says. She’s quite frightened of him.”
She frowned at her teacup.
He hated to see her upset.
“Her Grace is a very wealthy woman married to one of the most powerful men in England,” he said gently.
“She can’t enjoy her wealth if she’s dead,” Lucretia said simply. She chose another four delicacies.
Gideon raised his eyebrows, watching his sister-in-law. He’d never seen a woman eat so many sweets in such a decorous manner.
“Lucretia!” Messalina glanced nervously at the dining room door.
There were whispers about the duke’s first two wives and their early deaths. One had been thrown from a horse, while the other had somehow fallen down a flight of stairs.
“You’ve heard the rumors as much as I have,” Lucretia said.
“Yes, but I don’t want Uncle Augustus to learn that we’re whispering them,” Messalina said.
Lucretia tilted her chin. “I’m not afraid of him.”
Messalina’s lips firmed. “Perhaps you should be.”
“Neither of you need be afraid,” Gideon cut in.
The sisters both looked at him as if they’d forgotten he was there.
He nodded. “You live with me now. I’ve men like Reggie in the house, and outside as well.”
“I don’t know if I feel any safer knowing I’m in an elaborate cage,” Lucretia said sweetly. “The men following us down Bond Street today were quite conspicuous.”
“As they should be,” Gideon said. “Deterrence is the best protection I know. I will never let anyone hurt you.” He looked into Messalina’s clear gray eyes and said softly, “Either of you.”
Messalina smiled at him, and for a moment he could see nothing else.
Lucretia cleared her throat. Something had softened in her face at his words.
“Thank you,” she said gruffly.
He nodded. He would’ve protected Lucretia regardless.
She mattered to Messalina.
Lucretia said to her sister, “Didn’t you say you were going to interview servants?”
Messalina immediately turned to her sister, and in seconds they were discussing…lady’s maids versus housemaids?
Gideon sipped his tea, watching the sisters with amusement.
Inside, though, he was thinking about Windemere and the possibility that he’d helped with his wives’ deaths. Gideon had been young when he first entered the duke’s employ, so he hadn’t paid much attention to the rumors surrounding the second duchess’s death. But now…
Now he knew that the old man was capable of hiring an assassin to murder his nephew. If he could do that without blinking, then was it so far-fetched to think he’d kill a woman?
He frowned as he placed his teacup down. Did Windemere’s murderous loathing of Greycourt extend to the rest of the family? The duke had certainly never shown any kindness or affection to Messalina or Lucretia.
He glanced at Messalina, who was engaged in a whispered argument with her sister. Her glossy hair caught the light, and the turn of her head made the long line of her neck glow in the candlelight. But it was the way her pink lips pursed before reluctantly relaxing into a small smile that caught his eye.
Gideon dropped his eyes to the dwindling supply of sweets. How much longer would he have her smiles to enjoy?
Chapter Twelve
That very night Bet and the Fox were wed and he took her away. He drove a small wicker cart drawn by four roe deer, and when he cracked his whip, the cart near flew through the countryside. When dawn broke, they pulled up in the clearing with the honeysuckle-and-sweetbriar cottage.…
—From Bet and the Fox
Several hours later, Messalina watched as Lucretia yawned so widely she couldn’t hide it behind her palm.
“Oh my,” Lucretia sighed, slumped against the settee cushions.
Gideon had long since retired to his study.
Messalina swallowed the last of the milky-sweet tea in her cup and regarded the beautiful piece of luxury in her hand. The tea set had a pink hatch pattern around the rim, and each cup had a different bird on the side. Messalina had fallen in love on sight.
Staring at it she asked, “Have you ever considered how much we spend on—on things?”