Page 86 of Impeccable
Susan sat in a chair near the fire, a magazine in her lap. “Gregory, what a surprise.”
“I came to see Clifford, but Lightner said he was out.”
“Yes, he’s so busy since we returned to town. Everyone wants to spend time with the new marquess.” She laughed lightly, and it only further grated on Gregory’s nerves. “I’ve only just returned home a short while ago.”
Gregory noted she was still dressed in her evening finery. “Do you expect him back soon?”
“Yes. Are you hoping to speak with him? I have to assume you’ve finally come to your senses and are here to tell us that our Phoenix Club invitations will arrive tomorrow.” She smiled sweetly, but there was nothing sweet about the superiority in her gaze.
“I am not here for that reason, actually. As I’ve told you and Cliffordmanytimes, I have absolutely no influence when it comes to who is invited—or not—to the Phoenix Club.”
Susan gripped the magazine and stood. Her brows dipped as her eyes narrowed at him. “I don’t understand why your paramour can’t just fix this problem. From everything I’ve been told, she makes some of the most important decisions at the club. You’re being willfully nasty.”
Hewas being nasty? For the second time that day and perhaps in his entire life, he lost his temper. “Do not speak to me as if we are friendly or as if I would do you any favors when you have been nothing but entitled and awful since you wed my brother. Just who do you think my ‘paramour’ is?” He wasn’t going to admit anything regarding Evie.
Susan rolled her eyes. “It is no secret to us that you’ve been meeting with Mrs. Renshaw, at least when she was in Oxfordshire over the holidays and probably since you both returned to London. Don’t bother denying it. One of the maids at Witney Court saw both of you enter and leave your bedchamber during the party. And you disappeared for long periods of time, often with your filthy dog. It makes sense that you were meeting her, especially since you became inordinately…happy. Clifford said you hadn’t been remotely cheerful since your father died. Then, after we learned she used to be a courtesan, there was simply no longer any question.”
Gregory considered defending Evie by saying they couldn’t prove any of it, but what would be the point? They believed it, this narrative suited their needs, and the damage would be done if it wasn’t already when they exposed Evie to the world.
He did, however, want the full story. “How did you learn she was a courtesan?” The question was so low as to be almost a growl, and Gregory was certainly feeling feral.
“Oh, Arbuthnot remembered her from that time. She seemed familiar to him when they met at the party at Witney Court, but he didn’t realize why until later. One night at White’s, he asked Clifford if he realized he’d invited a courtesan to his party.” Susan cocked her head to the side. “Well, aside from Mrs. Creighton. It makes perfect sense now that that they’d be such close friends!” She smiled, nogloated, and Gregory wanted to say something that would permanently wipe the smug expression from her face.
“You know you’re being purposely horrible. You like to be horrible. It gives you pleasure. You are the most abhorrent person I’ve ever met.”
“Gregory!” Clifford strode into the room and made his way to Susan’s side. “I must insist you not speak to my wife in that manner!”
Gregory pinned him with an icy stare. “But I suppose it’s completely acceptable for you and her to manipulate me so you can receive invitations to join the Phoenix Club? Or to use extortion to achieve your goals? You have no qualms about ruining someone for the sake of your own petty desires.”
“Well, look at you,” Clifford said, his eyes narrowing. “I suppose taking a mistress has finally loosened you up.”
Gregory took a step toward his brother, but stopped himself. He realized his hands were fisted and his arms taut with fury. “You’ve always been mean spirited, but this extortion attempt is as low as I’ve ever seen you go. I’m glad Father isn’t here to see it.” Gregory found satisfaction in the hardening of his brother’s gaze, but he kept himself from saying anything more that he’d likely regret.
“You’ve no move to make, Gregory.”
“Neither do you. Your invitations will not be forthcoming.”
“How do you know that?” Susan asked, her voice high and breathy.
Gregory reveled in giving her a haughty look. “Because I do.”
“I thought you said you weren’t that close to the people in charge.”
“I said I didn’t have influence. I consider Lucien a friend, and it seems you’re well aware of how close I am to Mrs. Renshaw.” Gregory glared at them both.
“I refuse to believe you about the invitations,” Clifford said, but there was a shadow of uncertainty in his tone and in his expression. “Hargrove assured me our efforts would force the club’s hand.”
“Have you no shame at all?” Gregory felt suddenly defeated. He began to understand why his father had, after a point, heaped all his attention on Gregory.
Neither of them answered his question. They just stared at him, indignant, as if he were in the wrong.
Gregory curled his lip. “Know this: even if I could have helped you, I wouldn’t have.”
“You’ll have no future in government now,” Clifford said, his eyes glittering with anger.
“So you say, but I’ll wait and see what happens. You typically prove to be ineffectual, and I expect this will be no different. The smarter gentlemen in the Lords will soon realize you don’t take after Father, that you barely understand the duties of a marquess, let alone a member of the upper house of Parliament.”
Clifford squared his shoulders. “Get out.”
