Wicked Deception (41 page)

She scanned each one, stunned to see
she was invited to a great many events in the coming weeks.
Apparently their marriage had succeeded to stifle the scandal and
gossip surrounding them both. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at
the invitations. It was obvious her husband didn’t care what she
did now, so she would do as she pleased.

She chuckled evilly as she penned an
acceptance note to each and every one, deciding her husband
deserved to be punished for his treatment of her, and couldn’t
fault her in this at all. The Countess of Iverleigh was going out,
and often.

He could sneak about with his mistress
all he wanted. She would make him burn as he had her, and enjoy his
discomfort to learn his wife was now the darling of society. Her
eyes narrowed as she thought of his reaction.

~ ~ ~

Leland Newell took his leave of Lord
Dartmouth with his notebook filled with the facts surrounding the
murders, his face grim as he left the prison. Dartmouth admitted to
only killing his wife, Lord Seaton, Annabelle Hart, the missing
prostitute Nan, and the Van Ryker’s servants, leaving all others at
the feet of Lord Rudd.

He returned to his offices and sent
messages to Lady Weldon and Lady Billingsley first, and Mrs. Hart’s
ailing mother, his disgust apparent as he finished. Though the
confession hardly changed the nobleman’s fate, it gave all those
involved some measure of peace to know who was responsible for the
deaths of their loved ones.

The news spread and the confession was
printed in the next day’s newspaper.

~ ~ ~

Gabriel read the confession with a
feeling of disgust as he sat in his club that day, and tossed it
down as he enjoyed his cigar and brandy, still reeling over the
graphic account of Dartmouth’s wife’s murder. It made him think of
his own wife, and he stiffened.

Gillian was gone a fortnight without a
word. He stubbornly refused to acknowledge it, despite his
continued anger. Tieghan laughed when he arrived to learn Gillian
moved out, saying his wife had more spirit then he credited her
with.

In the weeks since, many disclosed his
wife had made quite a grand entree into society, seen at every
exclusive event at all the finest homes. His Countess was quite
busy these days, and through the society pages, he learned she was
sought after by every hostess in the city.

The gossip pages revered her sense of
style and beauty, and even duplicate red coaches were seen rolling
about town now, much to his disgust. He could hardly find fault
with her, for she was never spoken of without the most respectful
of terms. She was only doing what he hoped she would, and had
achieved in a short time, what this marriage was intended to gain
them both.

He found it rankled him she did so on
her own, without him. He was disgusted to feel left out of his
wife’s life now, and obvious popularity, and frowned darkly.
Gillian hadn’t incurred one bill since she left his home. He was
disappointed he didn’t have an excuse to go to her house and
upbraid her further.

She spent little outside of her
household expenses and he could find no fault there, but wondered
at her prior intent to take a lover. His eyes darkened when he
thought of the day he almost forced himself on his wife.

He remembered how sweet she tasted, how
he longed to strip her naked and claim her once and for all. He
pushed her away and sought out a whore instead, dismayed to
discover he wanted his wife now.

He had done all to maintain a suitable
arrangement, to create a civil relationship between them, and did
nothing but incur her wrath for it. She was on her way to becoming
society’s darling, and was moving farther and farther away from
him.

The papers never questioned why he was
never seen with her, nor commented on her living apart from him. It
was assumed he was still much the recluse he’d always been. He was
disgusted by his interest in his wife’s movements, reading every
tidbit attached to her.

The papers hinted several refined
gentlemen were seen squiring his wife about, and even then, he
could not fault her. She hired a very respectable chaperone to
accompany her. None could fault her behavior. His eyes darkened in
anger to realize he was jealous.

It was absurd, but the feeling
persisted. The niggling suspicions she had lovers made him see a
red mist of fury. She promised he wouldn’t hear a whisper of it.
She chose her escorts well. If not for the last one, he might have
ignored it.

His lips twisted as he thought of the
Marquis of Lyndon. Christian Bane went to Oxford with him and he
knew him only too well. He was as discreet as he was handsome. The
nobleman was much sought after by every hostess in the city since
his return from Paris. His status as a bachelor made him very much
pursued by many debutantes.

The thought of Christian with his new
wife galled him, knowing how instrumental he’d been in his being
shot the year before. Bane’s guilt was never proven; even if he
knew in his gut he was the one who funded his wife’s desire to see
him dead.

Gillian had no way of knowing what kind
of man Bane really was. He no doubt pursued his wife out of his
continued vendetta over the duel years before and the cost of
losing his arm that day.

The thought of him dangling after his
wife now enraged him, but he could do nothing about it. His dark
eyes filled with anger at the thought of Christian bedding his wife
before he did. The thought was enough to make him plan a visit to
Gillian very soon.

It was time his wife got busy supplying
him with an heir. She would not be happy to be forced to do her
duty, but he wouldn’t be made a laughingstock again. She would give
him his heir, and then he vowed she could do as she
wished.

~ ~ ~

Gillian felt waspish when she rose at
three in the afternoon. She tossed the silk sleeping mask from her
eyes and sat up. She looked about her chamber and felt deflated
despite her successes. She was shocked at how she’d been embraced,
despite Lady Atwell’s despair of her.

That lady found herself at the end of
the receiving line. Gillian avoided her and her daughter
altogether, much to their obvious dismay to see how popular she had
become. She thought of Christian and his help, and smiled as she
thought of her dear friend.

He rallied to her cause and being seen
with him elevated her to iconic status beside him. He made few
demands on her, and she found it exhilarating to be besieged with
such looks of envy in his company. It compensated her for her
husband’s lack of attention and Christian never pressed her for
more.

She shivered when she remembered the
look in his eyes the night before. His deep blue eyes never hid
their desire for her, but he didn’t push his attentions upon her.
His elegant image and elusive appeal made him very coveted for an
escort.

She was told by him he lost his arm in
a hunting accident. The missing limb and his hook only intensified
his appeal as a romantic hero. He remained a respectful distance,
but she knew he merely waited for her to take the initiative and
come to him.

She suspected he knew her and her
husband were at odds, though he never asked where Gabriel was. He
made the rounds with her, and introduced her to all the right
people. She was forever in his debt, and even Mrs. Plumb, her
ever-respectable companion, found no fault with Lord Lyndon
escorting her to events.

She knew she was daring her husband’s
anger by being seen exclusively with Christian now but she didn’t
care. She knew he was with Catherine. Her heart was frigid with the
knowledge she had never stood a chance to have than an arrangement
from their marriage.

She sighed with disgust as she got out
of bed and rang for Imogene. Her maid appeared with a tray of tea
and smiled as she saw her mistress was in one of her morning moods.
Gillian had not come home until dawn. It was obvious the grueling
social schedule was doing little for her temper. Imogene added
another cube of sugar to her tea, her eyes twinkling as she set
about calling for her bath.

She removed a delightful gown of aqua
silk with a beautiful underskirt of multi-colored iridescent
pastels. Gillian was groaning as she slid into the hot bath, and
stretched her aching feet, for all the dancing had made her quite
sore. She washed with the luxuriant soap, and sighed as she slid
under the water and washed her hair.

Imogene helped her out of the tub and
she sat brushing out her long red hair before the fire as she drank
her tea and ate biscuits. She was going to the theatre with
Christian this night, and she was eager to make another splash with
her new gown.

Madame Chevalier had declared her a
genius as she designed this latest creation. The use of color gave
her a vivid, sophisticated look. She had made the décolletage a bit
low, and Gillian looked down and questioned it as Imogene helped
her dress, but reasoned it would draw much notice as all her gowns
had.

Her style was copied by many, and she
knew the dressmaker was being inundated with requests for copies of
her ensembles. Imogene fastened the diamond and aquamarine choker
around her throat, and she slid on the matching bracelet and rings.
Matching earrings dangled at her ears. Imogene painstakingly curled
her hair into an upswept arrangement of curls, putting a crystal
pin in each curl, until she looked like a fairy
princess.

She knew she looked beautiful as
Imogene used a sparing bit of cosmetics to darken her lashes, and
add to the flush in her cheeks. She painted a very natural pink
pout upon her lips. The effect was startling, and she was pleased
when she rose to slide into the elegant heels and slid on her
wrap.

Three hours had passed very quickly,
and she knew Christian would arrive any minute at six promptly. He
was dreadfully punctual and she knew better than to make him wait.
She retrieved a matching beaded reticule and went below.

She stepped off the stairs as she heard
a coach arrive. She looked at the clock on the mantle and smiled.
Christian was here at two minutes to the hour. She was smiling at
his obsession with being on time when the door opened and her
husband stepped into the foyer.

Gillian’s smile faded as she met her
husband’s insulting stare as he handed off his coat and hat to the
butler. Collins looked between the pair and soon
departed.

“
I wasn’t expecting you,
Lord Iverleigh,” she said quietly, meeting his mocking gaze with
anger simmering in her sea green eyes he would show up unannounced.
“I fear you have caught me at a bad time, for I’m going out this
evening. Is there something you wish? Surely you could have sent a
note?”

“
You’re my wife, Gillian!”
he snapped in irritation at her words. “I do not need to send a
note to announce myself to you, my dear.”

“
What do you want, Gabriel?”
she said wearily, and stiffened at the look in his dark eyes as
they slid over her with insulting, obvious deliberation.

“
I have decided I wish my
wife’s delightful company,” Gabriel said in husky insinuation as he
walked the short distance to where she stood, gazing down at her
with a look that made her knees feel weak, despite her bitter anger
over his abandonment after their marriage. The memory of his
stirring kiss made her color slightly, and she backed away from
him.

“
I’m sorry I cannot indulge
you, my lord, but my escort arrives any minute,” she replied
coolly, glaring to see it was now five after the hour and Christian
wasn’t there, out of character to be late in arriving.

“
Lord Lyndon won’t be
amusing you this night, wife, or any other from now on,” Gabriel
said smoothly, and noted her stiffening posture with a gloating
smile. “I took the liberty of sending him off with your
regrets.”

“
You have no right!”Gillian
raged, glaring up into his smug, handsome face with a snarl of fury
upon her lips. “Get out of my house! You have no right to rearrange
my schedule for your purposes! Next time, send a note!” She turned
on her heel to go back up the stairs, but instead found herself
picked up in her husband’s arms instead.

She sputtered with outrage and flailed
as he carried her up the stairs in search of her rooms. He opened
the door and kicked it shut before he deposited her to her feet,
smiling down into her flushed features.

“
It is time to do your duty,
Lady Iverleigh,” he said huskily as he pursued her into her room,
his dark eyes glowing as they slid over her paling features. “Come
now, don’t look so surprised, for we have been married a month now.
I have a desire to see what Christian finds so bloody fascinating
these days.”

“
You disgust me!” she spat
as she backed up, seeing his intent pursuit and swallowing hard.
“What would your mistress think, Lord Iverleigh? Surely you risk
incurring her wrath were you to deign to notice you have a
wife!”

“
Oh, I doubt she would be
pleased at all, but I can’t help but notice you, my love. You’re
all over town these days,” he quipped sarcastically as he wrenched
off his coat and tossed it into a chair, his dark eyes narrowing as
he saw her flinch at his words. “Oh you need not worry I will stay
over and give Bane anything to worry over, Lady
Iverleigh.”