Page 31 of Forgetting the Earl
“South,” came a snide voice, sounding even more horrid in the cavernous space of the museum. “Fancy seeing you here. I’ve called on you several times, but you never seem to be at home.”
“Tarrington,” Southwell bit out.
Tarrington’s pale eyes slid to Honora. “You’ve been occupied, it seems, by the lovely Mrs. Culpepper. She’s very entertaining. I know from experience.”
Honora glared at him.Vicious, lying swine.
“Somehow I doubt that,” Southwell replied casually, as if Tarrington hadn’t just boldly insinuated Honora had slept with him. The very thought made her stomach turn. She refused to allow him to upset her. She gently touched Southwell’s back, the warmth of him steadying her.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us.” Southwell tried to lead Honora away, but Tarrington stepped before them again.
“I’d be careful if I were you, old friend. Mrs. Culpepper is full of secrets, aren’t you? Though I’m sure you have some of your own, don’t you, South? Anabeth told me the caiman did more than leave you with a scar or two.” He nodded at Southwell’s thigh.
Southwell gave Tarrington a bland look. “Good day, Tarrington.” He jerked, pulling Honora in the direction of his carriage, walking far more swiftly than a partially lame man should be able.
The thought of Anabeth…and Southwell. An awful, hollow feeling pressed into Honora’s stomach. She stumbled, trying to wrench her arm from his. “Gideon, wait.”
“You’ll cause a scene, Honora. That’s what Tarrington wants,” he said as they approached the carriage. He helped her in before climbing onto the leather seat across from her, the cane clutched in one hand. Southwell’s features were tight. Grim. Pain bracketed his mouth, and Honora knew the headlong rush out of the museum had hurt his leg.
“I’ve seen the duchess only once since my return.”
“I didn’t ask. Nor is it any of my affair.” Honora laced her fingers together, twisting the digits about in agitation.
Southwell’s gaze fell to her lap before returning to her face. “Yes, but you should listen all the same. I am in the habit of soaking in a hot bath every night because of my injury.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“One night”—his voice raised—“I was soaking and having a scotch when I was interrupted by Anabeth, who wore nothing but her chemise.”
“How seductive.” If his intent was to reassure Honora, he was failing miserably.
“I’m not sure which one of my idiot servants let her in, probably my butler. I think women intimidate him somewhat, and—”
“Oh, good Lord, Gideon. Get on with it. I don’t need to relive every moment of her seduction.”
He glared back at her. “I left my bath and told her to vacate the premises. Immediately. I may have thrown a bedsheet over her. And yes, I was quite naked. I was in a bath.”
“I assumed you were naked.” Just the mere thought of Southwell without clothes sent a rush of longing through her in spite of her anger. “Nor is itanyof my affair.”
Brave words. Complete lies. She half expected him to ask about Tarrington’s horrible accusation, but he didn’t, probably realizing there was no way Honora would ever stoop so low.
His fingers drummed impatiently against his thigh. “Itisyour affair. It pains me that you can sit there and pretend it is not.”
“There is no need to explain yourself, my lord,” she replied coolly. “We are not—”
“Do not say another word, Honora.” His anger echoed loudly in the confines of the carriage. “You have no idea what we are. Or what we could be. And if you are wondering if I am fully functioning, despite Her Grace’s denouncement of my manhood alluded to by Tarrington, the answer is yes. I am. I just didn’t care to bed Anabeth.”
“Again, it is none of my affair.” She refused to look at him and instead turned her gaze to the window, willing away the vision of him and Anabeth together.
A hiss of frustration left him. “Shall we discuss Sebek, Honora?” he said in a dangerous tone. “Why don’t we?” He waved a hand at her. “Never mind. Do your worst.”
Her head jerked from the window. If he knew her as Miss Drevenport, why didn’t he say just say something? “I think you’ve given me enough of Egypt and their gods for one day, my lord. I feel a headache coming on. Please take me home.”
“As you wish.” Gideon closed his eyes, effectively ending any further conversation.
Honora returned to looking out the window until the house she shared with Loretta came into view. Once the carriage halted, the moments ticked by as she waited for him to say something, at least bid her good afternoon, but Gideon remained silent and tight-lipped, anger coming off him in waves.
Finally, Honora swung the door open herself as a footman rushed down the steps to help her descend.
