Page 23 of The Rogue’s Countess

“I don’t—”

“It’s settled then,” Lady Wrotham said with a pleased smile on her still youthful features. “Gideon, I think Athena is the best choice for Phoebe, don’t you? She’s one of the sweetest horses we have in the stables, Phoebe. I know you’ll enjoy riding her.”

Something odd swept across Phoebe’s face as she nodded reluctantly, then bowed her head slightly and continued eating in silence. Gideon returned to eating his meal as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother’s sly smile of satisfaction, and he grimaced.

If his mother knew what he did about Phoebe, he was certain she’d not be so eager to push the woman in his direction. He’d only taken a few bites of his meal when his mother dropped her napkin onto the table.

“Good heavens, I forgot to tell Mrs. Murray to make an orange layer cake. I know how much you love it, Gideon. It’s the perfect dessert for the dinner party this evening.”

“Dinner party?” Gideon frowned slightly. He’d been planning on spending the evening reading a horticulture book he’d bought before leaving for Amsterdam.

“Yes, I invited several people for dinner last week, thinking you would be home two days ago. I asked your friends, the Earl of Melton and his wife, as well as the Earl and Countess of Lyndham, and Lady Stewart.”

“I was gone for three weeks, Mama.” He cast an amused look in her direction, to which she shrugged with a laugh.

“Perhaps, but you know how much I love to entertain. I thought it a fitting occasion. It will be a pleasant evening with friends, and I know what good friends you are with Sebastian.” As his mother quickly stood up. Gideon rose at the same time, but she waved her hand at him. “Do sit down and finish your breakfast, dearest.”

With a smile still on her face, Lady Wrotham left the breakfast room. The silence that fell in the wake of her departure was quickly broken as Phoebe laid her fork down on her plate with a soft clink. Although her expression was serene, her brown eyes flashed gold fire as she met his gaze.

“I would like you to devise an excuse that will prevent me from riding with you tomorrow morning.” Her lovely mouth thinned with anger as she glared at him.

“Why would I want to do that?” He took another drink of coffee before setting it back in its saucer. Fingers forming a steeple in front of him while his elbows rested on the table, Gideon cocked his head slightly as he studied her reaction. A flush crested in her cheeks, and he frowned at the uncomfortable look on Phoebe’s face.

“Because I do not wish to put your mother in the painful situation of feeling terrible when she learns I do not have a riding habit.” She averted her gaze, and for a moment, Gideon wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said, I do not own a riding habit.” Her crisp response accentuated her embarrassment as she dropped her gaze to stare down at her plate.

“I see.”

“I don’t think you do,” she snapped fiercely as she jerked her head up to glare at him. “I refuse to cause your mother any embarrassment, or regret, for insisting I ride with you, nor will I have her offer to procure any clothing for me. I have no intention of doing anything that might cause her distress.”

Gideon slowly leaned back in his chair, draping one arm over the open, scrolled back of the Queen Anne chair. He studied her in silence, but she didn’t flinch beneath his intense gaze. Instead, she tipped her chin upward at a proud angle. Last night she’d been vehement that she would never do anything to hurt his mother.

He had attributed her protestation to that of a woman well-skilled in the art of deception, especially where men were concerned. Now he was no longer certain. Phoebe’s refusal to mention her lack of a riding habit to his mother supported the assertion she’d made last night.

Equally confusing was her confession to him that her wardrobe was lacking, yet she’d not asked him, nor implied he should consider buying her one. She’d simply asked him to devise a reason that would ensure his mother didn’t discover she lacked a habit. Few women would be willing to admit such a thing, especially one intent on acquiring a new title.

The memory of Edith lamenting her inability to afford a new gown to wear to the annual Chesterfield affair pounded through his head. Edith had been so dejected, he’d actually loaned her a large sum to purchase a new dress. It had proven to be a mistake to give up a large portion of his monthly allowance. Two weeks later, Edith had informed him that her engagement to the Duke of Stockdale would be posted the next day in the Times.

Gideon’s focused his attention on Phoebe again. She dropped her gaze and fiddled with the edges of her napkin. She was clearly embarrassed at having to explain herself. A riding habit was a standard article of clothing for women of the peerage. It made no sense for a woman intent on marrying up the ladder not to have one in her wardrobe.

For a brief moment, he considered the possibility he’d been too hasty in his judgment where Phoebe was concerned. Gideon suppressed a snort of disgust. Phoebe was one of the American Dollar Princesses who’d crossed the Atlantic in recent years. They’d come for one thing only—a title.

Still, she clearly wished to save his mother embarrassment, something for which he was grateful. He could not fault her that. If anything, he appreciated her thoughtful consideration where his mother was concerned. He nodded his head as she lifted her gaze to meet his.

“I shall devise an explanation of some sort.”

“Thank you.” Relief filled her voice as she looked down at her plate again.

“However, neither of us will be able to avoid the matter for any great length of time. I can easily remedy your lack of a riding habit.” His gaze narrowed as she jerked her head up to stare at him in horror. A brief second later, her lovely features became devoid of emotion, and her brown eyes flashed with contempt.

“I would just as soon wear a feed sack than accept such an offer from you.”

The antipathy in her voice made Gideon frown. He’d actually been prepared for her to tell him where she shopped. That she had refused him so vehemently surprised him.

“I think you should seriously reconsider the offer, ” he said with a smile of confidence.