Page 81 of The Rogue’s Countess

She took a deep drink of the bubbly beverage only to cough as the champagne went down wrong. Jumbled thoughts crashed against each other in her head as she tried to accept the reality of what she’d just seen. Constance had been wrong. Gideon didn’t love her. The man wasn’t even besotted with her. If he had been, he would not have disappeared from the ballroom with another woman.

Phoebe took another sip of champagne as her gaze flitted toward the doorway of the room Gideon and the woman had disappeared through. The thought that he might have used the adjoining room as a discrete way to usher the woman into the gardens made her stomach churn. A voice in the back of her head screamed out a sharp rejection of the searingly painful thoughts hovering on the edge of her senses.

No. Gideon’s behavior toward her this evening had hardly been that of a man intent on humiliating his wife. He’d kissed her soundly before leaving the house. He’d coldly condemned Lady Gresham for the way the woman had greeted Phoebe. He’d teased her about the bumblebees on the cake. How could she possibly judge him without knowing more? She simply had to find the courage to ask him who the woman was when he returned.

A voice in her head sneered at her. Had she forgotten he was Lord Chelmbee? A man, who like a bumblebee, moved quickly from flower to flower. The voice reminded her of what had happened between the two of them in Montjoy’s garden. Desperately Phoebe tried to push the image of the woman clinging to Gideon’s arm out of her mind.

Shouts of horror and pain created a cacophony in her head as Phoebe tried to suppress her growing fear. She was being irrational. Phoebe knew there had to be some reasonable explanation for what she’d seen. All she had to do was ask him to explain things. Gideon was an honorable man. He would tell her the truth. Perhaps the woman had fallen ill, and Gideon was simply being solicitous by escorting her away from the heat and noise.

Instantly, a wild cackling erupted in the back of her head, followed by a voice that mocked her for thinking Gideon’s behavior this evening meant more than it did. The voice laughed at her for even daring to think Gideon might be coming to care for her. Phoebe vehemently argued with the voice.

Why would he have said he was happy if he didn’t care? He had nothing to gain by saying such a thing. He’d even been disappointed when she would only admit to being content. It made no sense to judge his behavior without hearing what he had to say. Another voice in her head sneered at her for ignoring the fact that Gideon had said he wished to speak with a friend.

“Phoebe? Are you all right, dearest?”

The sound of Lady Wrotham’s voice made her start violently as her mother-in-law touched her arm. With a strength she pulled from deep within, Phoebe hid her fear as she forced a smile to her lips and turned her head toward the marchioness.

“What?”

“I asked if you were all right.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be,” Phoebe replied with a quiet laugh that sounded hollow to her ears. Lady Wrotham nodded as she eyed Phoebe carefully.

“I was worried someone might have upset you as Lady Gresham did earlier.” The marchioness’s look of concern eased slightly but didn’t fade away completely. Phoebe turned her attention back to the crowded room, searching for a glimpse of Gideon.

“No, Constance has proven to be quite skillful in diverting attention away from me,” she said absently

“Where did Gideon run off to?” the marchioness asked quietly.

“He said he had to speak with…with a friend.”

Phoebe winced as she stumbled over her words. Just as she was about to turn her head toward the marchioness, Gideon walked out of the room he’d entered a short time earlier, only now he was alone. The woman who’d been with him was nowhere in sight. She must have been feeling ill, and Gideon had behaved in a solicitous manner by seeing to her comfort. Relief made Phoebe release a deep breath. He turned his head to look around the room, and a brief moment later, their gazes locked across the dance floor and the crowd separating the two of them. The smile on his face made her heart sing as she watched him begin to make his way around the crowded room to where she stood.

“Ah, there he is,” Lady Wrotham said with what Phoebe thought might have been relief. “Some political discussion, no doubt. Why men feel the need to conduct business during a social event is of constant amazement to me.”

Phoebe laughed at her mother-in-law’s statement feeling light-hearted and relieved. Almost giddy with relief, Phoebe lost sight of Gideon, and as she turned toward Lady Wrotham, she saw someone entering the ballroom from the gardens. The moment her gaze settled on the woman Gideon had been with a short time ago, the air left Phoebe’s lungs.

The woman looked disheveled and appeared as if she had just come from a tete-a-tete with someone. A cold numbness slid its way over Phoebe’s skin as she watched the woman adjust her gown and hair. Phoebe’s stomach lurched with a painful, sickening sensation.

Gideon had gone into the garden with the woman.

As if sensing she was the object of someone’s attention, the woman turned her head and looked directly at Phoebe. The moment their gazes met, a slow smile of satisfaction and triumph curved the woman’s lips.

Instantly, Phoebe was plunged into the depths of hell as she was forced to accept the cold reality that Gideon and the woman had been in the garden together. She swayed on her feet and flinched as Lady Wrotham gasped with concern and cupped Phoebe’s elbow to steady her.

“Something is wrong.” Lady Wrotham exclaimed softly.

“It’s nothing,” Phoebe shook her head and pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “It’s a headache. I thought it would go away, but…but it’s becoming worse. Do you think it would cause a stir if I were to go home?”

“What people think is of no concern. You’re ill, and we will go home at once.”

“But you cannot leave until the ball is over.”

“Then Gideon will see you home and take care of you.”

Despite her senses being assaulted from every direction, Phoebe’s nerve endings tingled with awareness Gideon was close. Unable to help herself, she looked for him. The moment she saw his face, it was as if her heart became a solid chunk of ice. The smile on his face vanished as he quickly closed the distance between them to take her hands in his. How she managed not to recoil from his touch was beyond her comprehension.

“You’re unwell.” It wasn’t a question, and Phoebe swallowed the bile rising in her throat.