Page 92 of The Rogue’s Countess

“Damn it, Chelmsford, you’re a goddamn ass,” he snarled.

“Yes, you are. You’re an ass who doesn’t deserve to have such a wonderful, loving wife.” At the sound of his mother’s angry voice, Gideon jerked his head up in surprise before he narrowed his gaze at her.

“I am not in the mood for one of your lectures as to my shortcomings, Mama,” he growled with irritation.

“I could care less about your mood given the current state of chaos in this house.”

“I’m warning you, Mama.”

“Do not take that tone with me, Gideon Alexander Lethbridge. If you weren’t such a simpleton, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Then say what you wish, and be done with it,” he snarled.

“Did you take leave of your senses last night? Your brazen temerity in accompanying that woman out of the ballroom was not only the height of stupidity, it was cruel.”

The fierce anger and contempt in his mother’s voice made him stare at the marchioness thunderstruck. The outrage on her face made his jaw clench until it was painful. The fact that his mother had seen him lead Edith out of the ballroom meant that others most likely had as well. It emphasized just how disastrously he’d handled the matter. His mother was right to ask if he’d taken leave of his senses because clearly, he had. When he remained silent, his mother’s expression darkened with anger.

“What in heavens name is wrong with you, Gideon? Ever since you returned from Amsterdam, you’ve been acting like a snarling dog, particularly when you’re around Phoebe. Are you deliberately trying to break her heart by renewing your acquaintance with the duchess?”

“No. I intercepted a note from Edith yesterday. She appeared to be hellbent on causing trouble,” he snarled. “When I saw her heading toward Phoebe and me last night, I pulled the woman aside to issue a warning to stay away from Phoebe, or she’d regret it.”

“Are you aware that Phoebe saw you as well?” His mother’s icy words made him go rigid, and he nodded sharply. The marchioness glared at him with disgust. “At the moment, it appears no one else saw you. If they had, Lady Gresham and others would have been here first thing this morning to inform me, and Phoebe, of your indiscretion.”

The marchioness’s harsh words made Gideon grow cold. Christ Jesus, one of the things he’d promised Phoebe was that their marriage would be nothing like she’d endured with Helstone. Yet, like a fool, he’d managed to humiliate her, whether he’d been seen by anyone in the Set or not.

Gideon’s gut twisted viciously with regret and fear. In his effort to protect Phoebe, he’d caused her more pain than Edith ever could. But it was the thought that she might never forgive him that scared him the most. Still embroiled in his internal condemnation of his behavior, Lady Wrotham’s deep sigh broke the silence. Jolted out of his thoughts, he met her gaze and flinched at the disappointment he saw in her gray eyes.

“For a man renowned for his ability to charm the fairer sex, you seem incapable of doing anything except fall on your face where your wife is concerned.”

“I’m well aware of my failings, Mama. I do not need to be reminded of them,” he said tersely as he clasped his hands behind his back and turned away from her to stare down at the ash that was all that remained of the scathing chapter Phoebe had written.

“Do love her, Gideon?” Her blunt question startled him, and he jerked his head up to look over his shoulder at his mother. As if she could read his thoughts, the marchioness nodded with approval. “Thank God for that. I was worried you didn’t.”

“My feelings for Phoebe are none of your concern, Mama.”

For heaven’s sake, Gideon, must you be so stubborn?” Lady Wrotham released a sound of exasperation. “Go to her, tell her how you feel.”

“That’s not possible. My wife despises me.” The words hammered their way into his chest like an opponent who’d managed to gain the upper hand in the ring.

“What in heaven’s name are you talking about? Phoebe doesn’t detest you.”

“Until a few moments ago, I could have shown you evidence proving otherwise,” he said bitterly.

Gideon turned away from her to watch the fire burn. How he wished his mother was right about Phoebe. The word why began to repeat itself in his head in a persistent demand for answers. Gideon already understood the reasons behind Phoebe’s decision to write such a scornful essay. His mother was correct. He had been a snarling dog since coming home to find Phoebe here. He’d baited—insulted her constantly. How could he blame her for wanting to strike out at him?.

She’d said the chapter was her penance—a reminder of how damaging angry words could be to others. But what had stopped her from letting the Times print the chapter? He was missing something there, but what?

“Think, Chelmsford. Think,” he muttered fiercely.

He closed his eyes and visualized Phoebe standing at the library door. As he remained completely still, he heard her voice echoing softly in his head. ‘Perhaps worst of all is that I’ve destroyed any hope of you ever…”

At the time she’d spoken those words, something in her voice had puzzled him. It was as if she’d lost all hope. Had it been despair he’d heard in her voice as it had trailed off into silence? He repeated her words in his head again, and this time he was certain there had been a note of hopelessness in her voice.

What was it she believed she’d destroyed? What had she hoped for where he was concerned? As he tried to understand what she’d been referring to, something else she’d said pushed its way into his consciousness.

‘It was only when I realized how much I…’

Realized what? What had she realized? A rush of hope crashed through him. Had she realized she loved him?