Trials of Artemis (22 page)

"Your
companion?"

"Indeed.
Do you have any idea how difficult it would be finding a companion for an
eccentric countess who prefers riding, archery, and swordplay to shopping and
gossip?"

"You
need a companion?"

"Will
you practice swords with me?"

"Of
course not."

"As
well I guessed. If Emmy Hobbes doesn't take to martial hobbies I'll eat my hat."

"You
trust an eleven year old girl to control a sword safely?"

"Well,
she is getting a bit of a late start but we can begin with wood sabres and
tipped foils. It will be safe enough."

"How
old were you when you started practicing?"

"Eight,”
she said. “That was the summer we formed our club."

"A
sword club?"

Jack
grinned. "No, a boys club."

"A
boys club?” Gideon asked, raising a brow. “Why did you form a boys club?"

"Because
boys always get to do the really fun things. Like climb trees, race horses, and
fight."

Gideon
thought about it for a moment. "Madam, I think I find you
disturbing."

Jack
chuckled.

"So
that's why you all have boy's names? Because you are a boys club?"

"Exactly.
It was easy for Georgianna and I since our families gave us feminine versions
of male names, but Sabre was quite clever in her nickname."

"Indeed.
So, who is the leader of your boys club?"

"Sabre."

"Not
even a hesitation."

"Of
course not. She's like a tiny, beautiful Wellington."

"Not
Napoleon?"

"Do
not insult my friend by comparing her to Old Boney," she said with a
sniff.

"Regardless
of how we English feel about him he is a brilliant leader." Gideon quirked
a grin. "And tiny."

Jack
snorted. "Well, I'll leave it to you if you want to tell Sabre that comparison."

"I
think that Mr. Miller said your club had a name?"

"The
Haberdashers."

"Odd
name, isn't it?"

"Oddly
appropriate. How did it come up?"

"He
said that all of you were his sisters. Thought that as your husband I must have
heard of it."

"Yes,
well, we've hardly had time to become acquainted have we?"

"So
it would seem. Should I search my brain for trivia and salacious secrets in the
hopes of telling you before one of my friends does?"

"Do
I even know any of your friends other than the duke?"

"I've
spent more than a fair share of my time with Robert and Charlie
Bittlesworth."

Jack
laughed. "Oh, that's funny. Have you? I don't remember them mentioning you
at all. Have you known them long?"

"Oh,
perhaps six years or so now."

"Six
years? Then perhaps you are that reprobate Lord Lucifer!" she exclaimed
with a laugh.

"Guilty
as charged," Gideon agreed with a grin.

Jack
felt her heart tumble in her chest. Lord Lucifer was the nickname Robert and
Charlie used for the gentleman who had introduced them to some of the seedier
aspects of London. When questioned by their father over their conduct, which
had included at least one arrest each and numerous other scrapes requiring
intervention, Charlie would quip "the devil made us do it." The only
name they used to refer to the man was Lord Lucifer, a moniker that they had
apparently shared with him. And a nickname that didn't seem to bother him in
the least as he still sat as relaxed and happy guiding the team as he had been
before the revelation. Swallowing her shock Jack sat back against the cushions
and stared straight ahead. Perhaps she really didn't know her husband. This
revelation was most unwelcome. "Is it true that you would sometimes take
them to up to three whorehouses in a single night?"

At
that Gideon's brow drew down into a severe line. "Why did they tell you
that?"

"There
were a lot of things that they didn't tell us directly but we found out
anyway."

"Why
on earth would you want to spy on the Biddlesworth brothers?"

"Because
they were our heroes. We wanted to be them. Until Lord Lucifer."

"Well,
if it makes you feel any better there isn't a mean bone in either of their
bodies. It's hard to say which of them is the better chap."

Jack
glanced over at her husband. His hair had become unruly again in the breeze and
he had turned back his sleeves in the heat, the casual
dishabille
making him look the pirate. What had just an hour ago
been attractive now made her apprehensive. It seemed he
was
the rogue and reprobate that she had accused him of being when
first they met. "Then why did you drag them all over the darker side of
London? And why did they go with you?"

"Sometimes
a good man likes to test himself to see if he has a darker side."

She
wasn't sure if he was referring to himself, the Bittlesworths, or all of them.
The rest of the ride home was spent in quiet contemplation of the scenery. And
trying to reconcile the man she was coming to know with the dark shadow known
by the name Lord Lucifer.

As
Gideon prepared for dinner he considered his wife's reaction to his role in the
Bittlesworth brothers' lives. She didn't seem to approve of his influence,
although in his defense they had all grown up quite a bit over the last six
years. He was now both a staunch ally and trusted advisor to the younger men.
They weren't as close now as they had once been since they no longer caroused
so much. It was at least two years ago when they had last all gone to a gaming
hell. Gideon had become more serious about his role in Parliament, Robert in
his work with the Foreign Office, and Charlie had focused on his horses. But
Robert knew that Gideon would support any of his requests that might come to
the House of Lords. And Charlie knew that Gideon could always be counted on for
a referral at Tattersall's. Gideon had even purchased two of Charlie's colts
himself to encourage bidding. Honestly, he refused to feel guilty about his
role in their lives. They were free to do what they liked, regardless of how
they had blamed Lord Lucifer. At the time it had seemed an amusing lark to be
the “cause” of their mischief. He hadn't expected in his wildest dreams that
one of the people who would think ill of it would become his wife. He had,
after all, only put a bit of town bronze on two very green boys. And it wasn't
like he was the worst of the lot among the
ton
.
There were a number of men he could name who were truly depraved! He paused as
he straightened his cuff. There was that. He had familiarity enough with the
whorehouses and gaming hells of London to know of such depravity and the men
who practiced it. He shook his head and giving his coat one final brush went to
his wife's chambers to escort her. She was nowhere to be found, and when he
queried Lara was told that she had already gone downstairs. So that's how it
was to be.

When
he entered the drawing room it was to Jacqueline's throaty laugh. She had her
hand on Mr. Miller's arm and Philip Gladstone, whom Gideon had asked to join
them this evening to make seating arrangements even, had turned his puppy-like
adoration on her. It took a good deal of restraint not to pull the younger men
away from her. Really, he had never been possessive of a woman before, once
even trading off mistresses with Robert. But that rational reflection didn't
keep his blood from boiling and his collar to seem suddenly tight, undoubtedly
from his muscles clenching. Was it going to be worth a lifetime of this?
Wanting to beat off admirers with a cane while his wife laughed and flirted
with apparent innocence? It was hard to believe that she was as unaware of her
impact on men as she claimed. He wanted to think that the adoring gazes she
gave him were genuine, but she was now charming Mr. Miller and Mr. Gladstone
with similar looks. He was burning with jealousy. He wished that he'd had Dibbs
announce him if only to break the concentration of the small laughing group.
Mr. Miller noticed him first and the bow he made for the earl alerted the other
two to his presence. It disturbed him that Jacqueline's expression of joy
drained to one of blank politeness when she saw him. He wished that he could
dismiss the two men at her side so that he and his wife could have out whatever
argument was brewing here. She walked toward him and held his eyes as he bowed
over her hand. She seemed as cold and distant as he had ever seen her.

Dinner
and whist afterwards seemed a dull affair with Jacqueline's spirits so
dampened. His own mood was sour and he was sure that he seemed older than his
years. Perhaps a wife nearly ten years his junior wasn't such a good thing
after all, if she made him feel an old man. By draw of straws he and Jacqueline
had been paired against the two young men and although this was their first
time playing together they easily fell into a
sympatico
rhythm that trounced their opponents, but with the pallor
of the evening it was difficult to enjoy the victory.

After
dinner he escorted Jacqueline upstairs in silence, escaping to his own room
immediately. He wished that he had thought to bring up some brandy and
considered sending his man down for some. He was yanking off his cravat when he
heard footsteps coming through the connecting door.

"What
now?" he asked, knowing he sounded surly.

"I
think I would feel better if you apologized."

He
turned to look at her. She had already taken off her dress and was wrapped in a
dressing robe with her feet bare on the wooden floor.

"Apologized
for what?"

"For
leading Robert and Charlie astray."

"Oh
good God, woman, can't you leave it alone? They are grown men capable of making
their own decisions. It's not as if I forced them to do anything, they followed
me willingly."

"You're
older than they are, they probably looked up to you."

Gideon
took off his cuff links, tossing them on the dresser and shaking out his
sleeves. "Do you do everything your elders do? Or do you have sense and
judgment of your own?"

"What
if we had decided to follow Robert and Charlie after Lord Lucifer? How would
you feel if I had visited whorehouses and gaming hells trying to live up to
what my elders were doing? I learned to race and fight because of them, why not
drink and game and whore?"

Gideon
had crossed the room to her by the time she had finished her diatribe and
gripped her chin. "You would do no such thing because you have more sense
than that."

He
saw tears at the corner of her eyes. "So now you say that Robert and
Charlie have no sense?"

"They
were young men. We were all young men, just sowing our oats. We haven't done
any of that in years." He walked back to his dressing room, too angry to
stay close to her, but she pursued him.

"I
know that you still drink so I have to assume you're referring to the gaming
and whoring."

"Devil
take it, woman, but you are plain spoken. I should be shocked my wife can even
put these sentences together."

"I
told you that I wouldn't be a simpering mouse."

He
turned to blister her with a response but was stopped by noticing how pale and
upset she looked. As he watched her uneasily, she took a deep breath and
clasped her hands in front of her.

When
she spoke again, her voice was softer and somehow grave. "Gideon, I want
to ask you something and I want you to be honest with me."

"Yes?"

"Do
you have a bastard child?"

He
paused for a moment to ensure he had heard her correctly. "Do I
what?"

"You
seemed to have a deal of insight into the viscount's responsibilities
vis á vis
Justin, so it occurred to me
there might be a reason why. And if you do, I'd rather know than not. And I
wouldn't want that child to be treated as Justin was, ignored by his father and
outright shunned by the viscountess."

This
argument had taken a sudden turn that he hadn't been anticipating. "So
you're saying that you worry that I might have a bastard child hidden away
somewhere?"

“It
had occurred to me," she said, starting to sound testy, "and a simple
yes or no would suffice."

"No."

"No?"
she asked, betraying some surprise.

"Not
to my knowledge. And you can be fairly certain that an earl of my means would
be approached to provide support if a woman thought she could even hope to
foist someone else's bastard on me, much less my own."

His
lovely wife expelled a deep breath as though she had been holding it and nodded
her head, looking down at her feet. “Very well then."

Gideon
looked at her, so serious and sad. She was truly bothered by the Lord Lucifer
nonsense. He thought of how she and her friends had ensured that Mr. Miller had
education and opportunity far beyond what the viscount had accorded, being a
tremendously good influence on a young man who might have otherwise run wild.
And that reminded him that Jacqueline had an impulsive, bold nature that he could
easily imagine running wild under the wrong influence. It wasn’t far off the
mark to imagine her taking on drinking, whoring, and gaming if she decided to.
She was already content to flaunt traditions, what were a few more masculine
hobbies? It humbled him to think where his influence might have led.