Page 33 of The Rogue’s Countess

It was one of the reasons he’d begun to be more strident in his objections to her interfering in the lives of others. He didn’t want to see her hurt or even ostracized simply for having such a warm and generous heart. The idea of seeing her vilified for trying to help someone was a day he prayed would never come. It was a prayer not just for her sake but for his as well. Lucien had no doubt as to what his reaction would be if someone tried to hurt his wife. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

Chapter 9

Irritation made Gideon suppress a grunt of displeasure as he entered the breakfast room and saw his mother was the only occupant. Ever since the dinner party his mother had hosted a week ago, Phoebe had worked hard to vanish whenever he entered a room. It was becoming damned annoying.

The Duke of Aveley had been a regular visitor ever since the dinner, but Gideon had been unable to think of a way to draw his mother out as to what the duke had wanted with Phoebe. He almost snorted out loud at his dull-witted thought. He knew exactly what the duke wanted from her, and he was damned if the man would succeed. Mocking laughter echoed in his head as a voice taunted him that such an action would be difficult to achieve if Phoebe continued to be so adept at avoiding him.

As he began to fix himself a plate of food from the dishes on the buffet, he was surprised his mother had not greeted him with her usual lighthearted manner. Gideon glanced over his shoulder and saw his mother eating in silence. Puzzled, he finished filling his plate and joined his mother at the table.

“Where is your Lady Helstone this morning?” he asked with as much disinterest in his voice as possible. He poured himself a cup of coffee and was lifting his cup off the saucer when the sound of silver violently hitting china made him jerk his gaze toward his mother. Lady Wrotham was glaring at him, and with a bewildered frown, he set his cup down in its saucer as he quirked an eyebrow in a questioning manner.

“What have you said to her, Gideon.”

“What do you mean?” He stared at his mother in surprise at the harsh note of anger in the marchioness’s voice.

“Do not play the innocent with me, my lord. You’ve said something to upset Phoebe, and I wish to know what it is.”

“I’ve not spoken to Lady Helstone since the dinner party a week ago.” Gideon refrained from sharing how the woman had been avoiding him.

“Then why is she searching for a new position?” The ferocity in his mother’s voice wasn’t near as startling as her statement.

“I beg your pardon?” Gideon stared at his mother in astonishment.

“Yesterday afternoon, I needed to review the gala’s guest list. When I couldn’t find it, I went to Phoebe’s room to ask if she’d seen it.” The marchioness continued to glare at him, but he saw the worry in her gaze. “She wasn’t there, but yesterday’s newspaper was on her dressing table with several advertisements for secretarial positions circled.”

“Did you ask her about it?”

“No, I wanted to speak with you first.” Lady Wrotham eyed him sternly. “I love you, Gideon, but I am not blind to your reputation with women.”

“What the devil is that supposed to mean?” he growled at the implication Phoebe’s apparent desire to flee was his fault. He wasn’t the villain in the story. In the back of his head, a harsh voice called him a liar.

“It means Phoebe is not one of your usual flowers, Lord Chelmbee,” his mother snapped. Gideon jerked at his mother’s use of the insulting nickname P. Currer had given him before anger streaked through him.

“You’re right. She isn’t. Phoebe’s efforts to ingratiate herself with the Duke at dinner last week revealed her for what she is,” he bit out between clenched teeth as he shook his head in disgust. “Your Lady Helstone is a social climber,”

“Social—” Lady Wrotham’s face darkened with anger. She pinned her gaze on him in a manner he’d not seen since he was a boy when he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “Gideon Alexander—Phoebe is not a social climber.”

“I regret being the bearer of bad news, Mama, but Lady Helstone is precisely that.”

“She’s nothing of the sort. I had to practically order her to attend the dinner party.” His mother’s mouth thinned with anger. “Now, I understand what she meant when she said there were people who might find it inappropriate for her to join us.”

“If by that, you mean I thought it was inappropriate to include her as one of the dinner guests, then yes, you would be correct.” He returned his mother’s scowl with one of his own. “And I was right. Like a spider spinning its web, your Lady Helstone set her sights on the duke the moment she entered the salon. Her efforts clearly proved worthwhile as Aveley has called on her almost every day since.”

“Phoebe did not deliberately set out to entice the duke. I asked the duke to escort Phoebe into dinner. But I am surprised you’ve taken notice of the duke’s visits when you have such a low opinion of Phoebe,” his mother snapped. Gideon jerked slightly as he realized he’d allowed his mother to know he’d been paying attention to Aveley calling on Phoebe.

“It was hard not to notice when she’s entertaining the man in the room across the hall from my study.” He silenced the voice that mocked him for knowing exactly how many times the man had called and how long he’d stayed.

“And I think there is a very good reason the duke has been here daily since that night. I believe Aveley has realized Phoebe would make a lovely duchess.”

At his mother’s suggestion that Phoebe might marry Aveley, every muscle in Gideon’s body knotted viciously. In his head, a voice shouted in protest at the thought of Phoebe marrying anyone, let alone the duke. The idea of her in another man’s bed tightened his muscles even more as an image of Phoebe flashed through his head.

Large brown eyes with sparks of gold fire whenever she glared at him. An oval-shaped face framed by silky, dark-brown hair and a mouth made for kissing. The memory of how sweet she’d tasted that night in Montjoy’s garden incited another shout of protest in his head. The objection aroused something possessive inside him that was stronger than he liked.

The memory of what had followed their encounter in the garden that night five years ago jeered at him. The instant he’d discovered Phoebe had bought herself a title, it had been as though he’d been kicked in the stomach. Disappointment had sliced through him as neatly as a butcher’s knife did a slab of meat. He had never understood why it had mattered so much to him then or why he’d brooded about his deep disappointment for months afterward. At the moment, it was beginning to feel like the same thing was happening all over again

Gideon’s jaw clenched as anger surged through him. What he was feeling wasn’t disillusionment. It was merely his frustration that Phoebe was making him dance to her tune. She was proving to be far more elusive than he’d expected. He remembered his exhilaration after their verbal skirmish the morning after he arrived home. The prospect of him being the pursuer for a change had filled him with pleasurable anticipation.

He’d looked forward to the chase even though he’d been certain of an easy conquest. It had been an arrogant misstep on his part. What he’d thought would be a relatively simple challenge was proving to be far more difficult than he’d expected. He was certain her efforts to avoid him were born out of the fact that she was far from indifferent to him.