Page 26 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

“Louise told me a little about your… guest,” Christian began carefully. “Thalia Sutton, isn’t it? Cheated out of her life by her wormy little cousin?”

“Awfully interested in the affairs of others, aren’t we?” Gabriel asked, his brow slightly raised.

“Interested in club affairs, you mean,” Christian corrected. “Lord Tilbury has made moves to join the Devils, and is doing so rather loudly. Making an awful amount of grandiose claims about his wealth and standing—gets a bit under the skin, wouldn’t you say?”

Gabriel allowed himself a dark chuckle, arms crossing loosely as he continued to passively observe the women at the tea table. Again, Thalia’s laughter caressed his ears, with Charlotte and Louise looking just as pleased to be in her presence. “I have plans of extracting the splinter, as it were. Did you know Miss Sutton had a younger brother?”

“Does she, now?”

“Stepbrother, technically. Been hiding away in Whitechapel.”

Christian stroked his chin, clearly interested. “Must have picked up a lot of useful skills, living for as long as he has.”

“So he says.”

A smirk crossed Christian’s face, and he gave a slight wave to his wife, who replied with a warm smile of her own. “Should I let my wife know that we’ll be late at the club? She’ll be awfully cross, you know.”

“I’m sure you’ll determine some way for me to pay you back,” Gabriel said. “For now, enjoy the picnic. The young man still needs to prove his skills to us, after all.” He cleared his throat loudly, gesturing a hand to Charlotte as she approached the pair. “And are the ramps to your approval, dear sister?”

She pursed her lips and huffed, playfully setting her hands against her hips. “Very funny, my loving brother. Just so you know, Christian, Louise very much enjoyed the concoction, and she’s positively pleased you thought to ask for it.”

“Did she, now?” Christian laughed, offering Charlotte a dramatic wink. “I suppose I owe you for getting me in my wife’s good graces, Lady Charlotte.”

“Then, perhaps I can convince you to let her come shopping with us?” Charlotte asked innocently.

Gabriel’s expression deadpanned slightly.

“I made my rounds to the nobles we discussed while you were on your walk with Thalia,” Charlotte pleaded. “Please, can I be released from this boring event? I woke up early to go with you, didn’t I? And,” she added, jabbing at her brother’s chest. “You owe Thalia a new dress.”

“How so, Sister?”

“It’s positively filthy, Gabriel!” Charlotte gawked. “I don’t know if you two rolled in the mud during your little rendezvous, but stains like that are going to be nearly impossible to get out.”

Gabriel highly doubted his sister’s claim, given how many of her own gowns had been rescued from permanent grime marks. Still, the sun had begun to settle into an afternoon daze, and even the more important families had left to continue their day elsewhere.

“Promise me you’ll find a gown for your Season’s event, then.”

Now it was Charlotte’s turn to make a face.

“You swore we would host a proper one this year,” Gabriel began.

“I know, I know.” She huffed, rolling the proposition in her head for a moment before extending her hand forward. “Fine; I accept your terms, loving brother of mine.”

“Don’t I get a say in where my wife goes?” Christian asked.

Gabriel shook his sister’s hand firmly, patting his friend awkwardly on the back as she skipped happily back to their table. “When Charlotte is involved, no one has any say in anything. Best to simply learn flexibility.”

Christian sighed loudly, giving one more longing glance at his wife as Charlotte gave her invitation out. “Well… if they’re going to be out and about, we could go for a few rounds down at the lot? I’m a bit rusty with my right hook, and you make for the perfect, slow-moving target.”

Gabriel could feel the insult boil in his blood. “Since you are such a tidy man, Christian, I’ll do you the favor of giving you a matching pair of black eyes.”

* * *

“Oh, come on, Thalia, it’ll be fun!”

Thalia did her best to give a grateful smile, but it came out somewhat strained. Meeting and mingling with Charlotte’s friends had been one thing—many were in their early twenties like her, and reminded Thalia of her impending march to spinsterhood—but to go shopping in boutiques felt like too much.

Not that she didn’t enjoy the experience; if anything, she thoroughly enjoyed observing the latest fashion and sampling the fabrics, ranging from impossibly soft velvets to a gossamer-like tulle. And Giles had failed to return any of her nicer dresses, likely because they were no longer in his possession. But going to the boutique usually implied one was a paying customer, and Thalia was the furthest from that.

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