Page 64 of Married to a Scandalous Spinster
Wyatt cursed under his breath and made his way toward the group. Perhaps Lady Hilt could at least shed some light on where her granddaughter was. No doubt the Dowager Duchess would tear him to shreds when she heard he had upset his wife, but that was something he would have to deal with later.
“Your Grace.” Before he could reach the Dowagers, Wyatt felt a firm hand on his wrist. He whirled around to see Henrietta standing before him. He looked down at her hand and she released it quickly. She looked up at him with wide blue eyes. Her lashes fluttered. “I need to speak with you. Urgently.”
“Not now.” Wyatt began to stride away, but Henrietta ran after him. “It's very important, Your Grace.” She pierced him with a suddenly fierce look that caused him to falter. “Trust me. You are going to want to hear this.”
Wyatt sighed. “You have thirty seconds.”
A tiny smile appeared in the corner of her lips, and she cocked her head, gesturing for Wyatt to follow her to the edge of the ballroom. “It is about Lord Anderson,” she said, her voice low. “And the Duchess.”
“What about them?”
“Well.” Henrietta's eyes darted left and right. “You know…”
Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Miss Henford. Is that the best you can do? You truly expect me to believe my best friend is having an affair with my wife?”I never should have invited her. I ought to have known there would be no chance at reconciliation. Or acting like civilized human beings.“This is highly offensive,” he continued. “To both me and the Duchess. And Lord Anderson, I might add. I will not stand to have you make such ridiculous accusations in my own home.”
Miss Henford's self-assured gaze did not falter. “Come with me, Your Grace,” she said brusquely. “I will show you.”
Wyatt sighed again. He really did not have the time for this. He had to find Gemma. Whatever Henrietta had to show him, it was clearly rubbish. But perhaps acquiescing to this ludicrous request was the quickest way to put an end to all this nonsense. And hopefully, stop her from making another attempt at shaming Gemma.
Resigned, he followed her across the ballroom and toward the foyer. “I saw Her Grace disappear up the stairs,” she told him conspiratorially. “And then Lord Anderson went up there moments later.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That is what you are basing this farce on?” he said witheringly. “The fact that you saw them both go up the stairs?”
At least I know where Gemma disappeared to. Why did she go upstairs? Is she changing? Packing her things? Does she plan to leave?The thought made his stomach roll.
But before he could make his way towards his wife's bedchamber, Henrietta stopped in front of the door to the guest room. “In here, Your Grace,” she said. “Look!” She flung open the door dramatically.
Two screams echoed in the hallway: one belonging to Henrietta, and the other to the woman beside Jonah in the bed. Jonah scrambled into sitting, while the woman beside him hurriedly pulled the sheets up over her bare body. Wyatt stared in disbelief, shaking his head. It was no surprise, of course, that the woman in bed with Jonah was not Gemma. But he had not expected this.
Henrietta's voice came out as little more than a squeak: “Mother?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gemma heard the screams from inside her bedchamber. She threw down the spare petticoats she had in her hands, ready to pack into her overnight bag. “Carry on packing my nightclothes,” she told Ivy. “I shall be back in a moment.”
Ivy nodded. “Yes, ma'am.”
Gemma hurried out into the hallway to find the guestroom door flung open, with Wyatt and Miss Henford standing in the doorway. “What on earth is going on?” she demanded.
At the sight of her, relief flooded Wyatt's features. “Gemma, I…”
His impropriety caught her off guard. Clearly, he was so relieved to see her he had neglected to address her formally in front of their guests. But Gemma remained unmoved. No slip of the tongue could make up for what he had said about her father. Or for the distrust he had shown in her.
She turned away hurriedly and looked past him into the room. Baron Anderson was sitting up in bed beside… Miss Henford's mother?
Lord Anderson cleared his throat, his cheeks crimson with embarrassment. “Might we have a moment of privacy to…tidy ourselves before we discuss this?”
“No, you may not, My Lord!” Henrietta stormed into the room, her rose-pink skirts billowing out behind her. “Whatisthis?” she demanded. “Mother?!” She planted her hands on her hips and turned her fiery gaze onto the Baron. “How could you do this to me? How could you betray me like this?”
Gemma blinked. At once, the fact that she had found Henrietta's mother hiding in the garden made sense. No doubt she was waiting for a chance to sneak away for some privacy with her lover. But as for Miss Henford's accusations against the Baron… What did she mean byhow could you do this to me?
Wyatt folded his arms. “Yes, Anderson. I think an explanation would be prudent.”
Lord Anderson nodded rather desperately towards his breeches, which lay discarded on the floor. “Your Grace, may we just?—”
“No,” said Wyatt. “I think we would all like an explanation now.”
The Baron's eyes darted from Wyatt to Henrietta. He tugged the bed covers up towards his bare chest. “I am sorry,” he said. Gemma wondered which of them he was speaking to. Perhaps he was just sorry he had been caught in such a compromising situation.
