Page 75 of Notorious

It was not the most relaxed of evenings. Visel was present—as was Tyndale. Both had conspicuously come to pay their respects during the break. If that wasn’t enough, Lucy had come by with Deveril. She’d made up to Gabriel in a shameless way, touching him and treating him as if he were an object that belonged to her. There was nothing he could do as she chose to carry out this exhibition in their box, in front of his wife and half the ton.

Gabriel thought the theater manager would have done better to charge tickets to watch Exley’s box than to watch the actual production.

Not that Giselle was not at her best.

She was powerfully gripping in her role as Regan. And Maria performed her much smaller role with the usual flair. Gabriel would have preferred not to bring his wife to watch his former mistresses, but Tyndale had been the one to ask that they be there.

Tonight the need to see and be seen with Visel had been more important than who was on the stage.

While Tyndale watched the production from a box almost directly opposite Exley’s, Visel watched from the pit. Gabriel was certain the farcical nature of the arrangement was fueling at least some of the attention they were receiving.

He felt Visel’s gaze more than once during the evening—when the other man wasn’t watching either Maria or Giselle. Gabriel was not stupid. Visel’s message was clear: the gorgeous actresses were available, and he would do his best to have them. Visel was, he supposed, an attractive specimen. Certainly the women of the ton seemed to flock to him, although that could be his position as a duke’s heir rather than his person. Gabriel thought the man was unbalanced and did not trust his public apology in the least. Still, there was nothing Visel could do to hurt him, so there was no point wondering what he was up to.

Gabriel found the other man’s actions amusing rather than annoying. If he thought to make Gabriel jealous, he was certainly engaging in futile behavior. While he had no idea what Giselle and Maria might do, he was positive that inviting Visel to become their lover while Samir was living in their house was not going to happen.

Samir.

The name brought a poignant blend of pleasure and pain. He’d gone to see the boy today after his wife had tossed him from her chamber. Each time he visited, he found it more difficult to leave him. There was a perfectly good nursery in their London house and Sizemore Manor had a huge schoolroom and nursery. Apparently some ancestor of his grandmother’s had enjoyed a large brood and an entire floor of the house had been given over to children’s quarters.

He’d been optimistic about broaching the topic after his first night with Drusilla and had planned to bring it up today.

Just thinking about last night made him stiffen. God. She’d been so responsive. He shouldn’t have used her so hard her first night but she’d looked at him with such . . . hunger. Gabriel was not a believer in false modesty; he knew women found him appealing and he was no stranger to lustful looks. But the way Drusilla had stared at him when he’d taken off his robe? It had done something to him. He could only assume it was the knowledge that this was his wife—she was his and he was hers. It was different from the feelings he’d had with lovers, even Giselle and Maria. He’d always known what the three of them had wasn’t permanent; they loved each other far more than they did him. Last night had been different—special. But then there had been this morning . . .

He felt a sharp jab in his side and looked over to find Eva staring up at him. He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Why does he keep looking up here?” she whispered behind the protection of her fan.

Gabriel didn’t need to ask whom she meant. “I don’t know.”

“Those are your mistresses, aren’t they?”

“What?”

Heads turned in their direction—including Drusilla’s—at his expostulation, and Gabriel leaned closer to Eva and lowered his voice. “What the devil are you talking about?”

“I’m not stupid, Gabe. That’s one of them—the beautiful blonde down there. Regan. And that’s the other one—playing the servant girl.”

“Who told you that?”

“What does it matter? Is it true?”

How did this keep happening to him? Why were the women in his life so curious about his personal matters?

“Well?”

“Ex-mistresses.”

“Good. Anything else wouldn’t be fair to Dru.”

Gabriel turned his body to look at her. “Oh? And you are so interested in being fair to her, are you? Is that why you’ve been shunning her?”

Her lips thinned, and she turned back to the stage, staring as if she’d never seen a more fascinating production in her life.

So, he guessed that answered that question. He shook his head; wasn’t there enough aggravation in their lives? Did he have to deal with feuding women as well as a nosy mother and a mad, antagonistic possibly war-traumatized earl, and repairing his and his wife’s damaged reputations before this disastrous Season was over?

The sound of clapping pulled him from his thoughts. The play had ended; it was time to go home.

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