Page 67 of A Gentleman's Wife

“To see how my friend has been these many months. I didn’t have much of a chance to speak with you at the ball which you so graciously invited us to. It was charming, by the way. The earl even said so.”

Thomas scoffed, for he could not imagine the Earl of Slanton ever admitting such a thing. “And where is your husband this evening?”

“My husband will likely ignore me for the card room the rest of this evening.” Lady Slanton’s voice dropped low, peering up at him from under her lashes. “So I’m yours for the taking.”

A sick twist in Thomas’s stomach was signal enough to leave. “I believe we’re done here.”

“Thomas, wait.”

Hearing his name on her lips would have been the highlight of his day before, but now it felt like a warning. Especially when she rested her gloved hand on his arm.

“I haven’t seen you in many months now. Haven’t you missed me?”

Thomas clenched his jaw and swallowed before speaking. “Seeing as how you and I are now married to other people, it’s hardly appropriate for me to think on you any longer.”

“Oh, really, Thomas,” Lady Slanton huffed. “There’s no need to keep pretending.”

“Pretending?” Thomas raised one eyebrow.

“I know all about your wife and her… lack of abilities.” Her snide tone only added to Thomas’s already thinly veiled anger. “And my husband is just what everyone says he is. Cold and heartless as they come.” She folded her arms across her chest, almost appearing as if she held herself in consolation. “But now is our chance, you see. We both find ourselves with cast-off spouses and can find respite in each other.”

“Cast-off?” Thomas seethed through gritted teeth. “Allow me to make myself perfectly clear, Lady Slanton. Any previous attachment I may have had to you is now irrevocably gone. I am a married man, in love with my wife, mind you, and I have no need or desire for a mistress. Whether you remain loyal to your husband is of no concern to me, but I’ll thank you not to assume I would ever discredit my wife so shamefully. And you would do well to keep any other propositions to yourself, for I’ll not have the patience to suffer an insult like this ever again. Are we understood?”

She took his rebuke with a slow nod, before flashing him a false smile that was sickeningly sweet. “Undoubtedly.” Then with a snap of her fan, she stormed back into the ballroom, leaving Thomas to take a few deep breaths.

The audacity of that woman knew no bounds. She thought simply because he’d formed a silly attachment to her before, she could take advantage of it whenever she needed? Thomas continued to thank the heavens he’d been spared from marrying her and expressed even more gratitude he’d been blessed with his current wife, for there never could have been anyone else for him but Marianne. He belonged to her, and she belonged to him, and he wasn’t about to let anyone come between them.

Dinner party be damned.

Drinks long forgotten, Thomas returned to the ballroom and found his wife still happily in conversation with Mrs. Shelton.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” Thomas asked, holding out his hand to Marianne.

“I have enjoyed myself immensely with Mrs. Shelton,” Marianne said with a smile for her friend. “Though I must admit to feeling a little tired.”

He knew good and well she could have stayed and talked more, but that she could sense his desire to leave made him love her even more.

“Oh, don’t let me keep you. Please have a good rest of your evening,” said Mrs. Shelton before disappearing into the crowd.

“Do you think we can escape without having to give our excuses to Lady Violet?” Thomas whispered as he brought Marianne to her feet.

The conspiratorial glint in her eye amused him. “Only if we’re very lucky.”

But as they collected their coats in the foyer, Thomas knew they would not be able to make it out unscathed. The corridors filled with loud conversation from other guests, and just as the butler opened the front door for their escape, the voices grew near. Thomas could identify those voices, but he didn’t want to face them. He wanted to forget about them.

“Have a good evening, Mr. Ramsbury!” came Lady Slanton’s sugary call.

He tried to pull Marianne out the door, but she turned at the sound, and her face paled.

“Do not give her the satisfaction of looking back, Marianne,” he said.

She lifted her chin and nodded, clinging to Thomas’s arm as he escorted her out into the cold night until they were safe inside the carriage.

“What is the countess doing here?” Marianne asked as the carriage lurched forward. “Doesn’t she reside in London?”

Thomas sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Yes, though I believe she’s friends with Lady Violet.”

Marianne gave a humorless laugh. “This is not surprising, I’m afraid.” But then she turned to him and raised her hand to his cheek. It felt like such a natural occurrence, and yet his heart still skipped a beat as his attention focused on her.

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