Page 64 of The Rogue’s Countess

“I quite agree, Phoebe,” the marchioness snapped. “Whatever would possess you to seek retribution where Mr. Currer is concerned, Gideon.”

“I am not seeking vengeance,” he snarled.

Furious they thought him so vain as to extract punishment from Currer, Gideon glared at both women. In the back of his head, a voice reminded him that on more than one occasion, the man’s words had made Gideon want to thrash the author until he never wrote another word. He brushed the censuring voice aside. If he’d wanted vengeance, he would have done it long before now. This was about protecting Phoebe.

“Then, if you’re not out for retribution, what do you hope to gain by learning the man’s identity?” his mother demanded.

“I intend to ensure he never mentions Phoebe in his work. Ever.” Next to him, he heard Phoebe draw in a quick breath.

“Mama is right. You are far too over-protective. Unlike some people, I am perfectly capable of ignoring anything Mr. Currer might say about me.” The glare she directed at him caught him off-guard, and he shook his head in disagreement.

“I told you I would protect you, Phoebe,” he said with quiet resolution. “And I intend to keep that promise. The moment Currer learns we’re married, it is almost certain the man will mention us in his next chapter.”

“Then let him,” she snapped. Her color had returned, and he frowned at how angry she was. “There are far worse things in the world than being a target of Currer’s pen. If I need your protection, Gideon, then I shall tell you. You agreed that I would have the freedom to do as I please, yet already you are seeking to control me.”

In a violent move, Phoebe shoved her chair away from the table, and without another word, stalked out of the room. Gideon quickly rose to his feet to follow her before his mother grabbed his wrist.

“Sit down, Gideon.” The harsh command startled him, and when he didn’t obey, his mother released a sigh of irritation. “Going after her will only make matters worse, now sit down.”

Lady Wrotham sternly gestured for him to sit down, and he slowly did as she ordered. The marchioness turned her head and ordered the servants in the room to leave. When they were alone, his mother eyed him with exasperation, and Gideon shook his head in protest.

“She misunderstands—”

“Of that, I have no doubt, but for all your experience with women, you have yet to learn how we think. And you clearly have no understanding of Phoebe.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His mother arched her eyebrow in disapproval at his language, but he glared back at her refusing to apologize as if he were a child.

“Phoebe’s had one of two choices before she agreed to marry you. Leave or stay. She chose to stay in the event a child was conceived the other night.” Lady Wrotham shook her head in angry condemnation and disappointment. A bolt of guilt sliced through him.

“Are you saying I did the wrong thing offering to marry her,” he growled as he remembered the disgust and disappointment his mother had shown him the other night when he’d sought her help with Phoebe.

“No, you did the right thing in offering your hand in marriage. But your failure to consult her when you decided to discover Mr. Currer’s identity simply demonstrated how much control you will have as her husband.”

I’ve given my word she will have the freedom to do as she wishes,” he said with quiet restraint. “I even documented it in a legal document we both signed.”

“Phoebe also knows what the law says about a married woman’s rights. Even with a contract, she knows it would be difficult to challenge you in the courts,” the marchioness said in an accusatory tone.

“And you know my honor would never allow me to go back on anything I ever agreed to.”

“Yes, I know that, but Phoebe doesn’t. She doesn’t know you well enough to trust you, let alone believe you will keep your word,”

“Christ Jesus,” Gideon muttered as he leaned back in his chair.

“Give her time, Gideon. Show her the man I know you are.” Lady Wrotham’s quiet words made Gideon stare at his mother for a moment then shake his head.

“The man I am?” Gideon roughly shoved his chair away from the table and sprang to his feet. “As you pointed out, Mama, I’ve given her no choice except to enter a gilded cage. That’s hardly a man to be admired.”

Without giving her a chance to reply, Gideon walked out of the dining room. As he stepped out into the hall, he made his way to his study. The door slammed closed behind him, and Gideon strode toward his desk. As he reached his chair, he saw the nuptial agreement lying on a stack of papers that needed to be placed in the safe he’d had installed in his bedroom.

Ever since he’d returned from Amsterdam, he’d made misstep after misstep where Phoebe was concerned. He’d misjudged her, seduced her, and had then put her in a position that had left her with only two options. Was it any wonder she didn’t trust him? Gideon reached out to touch the document. His fingers brushed across Phoebe’s signature. There were no flourishes or large curves to her feminine writing. But there was strength in the simplicity of it. She would be a credit to him as a wife. They could be comfortable in dealings with each other. But convincing her to believe he would never betray her would be the most challenging task he’d ever faced. But it was a challenge he was determined to win.

Chapter 17

Phoebe stared at her image in the beveled mirror. In the reflection, she could see the door leading into Gideon’s bedroom. They’d been married earlier in the day with Constance and her brother, the Earl of Melton, acting as witnesses. It had been a simple ceremony, and afterward, the brother and sister had stayed for a special wedding luncheon Gideon’s mother had arranged to celebrate the occasion.

When she’d come upstairs to change out of her wedding gown after their friends had left, she’d found her things had been moved to the room next to Gideon’s. It had emphasized how drastically her life had changed in less than a week. The remainder of the day, she’d spent reading in the salon with Lady Wrotham.

Gideon had left the house shortly after she’d changed, saying he had an appointment. He’d kissed her cheek as he’d said goodbye as if they’d been married for months, not hours. Although he’d said he wouldn’t be gone long, he’d still not returned by the time she’d come upstairs to change for dinner.