Page 28 of Notorious

Word of their arrangement was bound to get out, and it had. As much as it titillated the jaded palate of the ton to imagine what went on in their notorious pied-à-terre, the relationship the three of them shared was remarkably domestic in nature.

Having grown up among so many women, Gabriel was comfortable with them.

At least some women, he corrected as he lowered himself onto the settee in the cozy sitting room—not, apparently, his wife. Unlike his English counterparts, the notion that two women could love each other—even physically—had not shocked him. Perhaps that was a flaw in his character or the result of being raised by a woman who possessed a pliable notion of sensuality and love.

And so they’d enjoyed their comfortable union for over three years. He would hate to end it, but he knew—deep down—that he would not wish to maintain the liaison once married.

He probably should have told his mother as much, but it was none of her concern.

The truth was, Gabriel had hopes—although not particularly high ones—that he and Drusilla might find a way to rub along together. And if they did not? Well, he would reevaluate his decision at that point.

The door opened, and Giselle made her entrance as only an actress could.

“How delightful to see you, Gabriel,” she said in her charming French accent, offering her cheeks for his kisses.

Gabriel took both her hands and held them out to her sides. Giselle Fontenot was small—only a few inches taller than his mother, but her exceptionally lush hourglass figure, full pouting lips, and bedroom eyes had rightfully earned her the title of the French Pocket Venus.

Today her generous curves were wrapped in an apricot silk peignoir trimmed with chocolate lace, and it made her golden curls appear burnished and rich.

“How is it that you can work until midnight, play until dawn, and yet look so fresh, Giselle?”

“Flatterer.” She pushed him down onto the settee, lowering herself beside him. “You have been busy, I hear?”

Gabriel scowled. “Just what the devil have you heard?”

“Perhaps one part the truth, nine parts exaggeration? You know how word of scandalous happenings spreads fast.”

“What did you hear and from whom did you hear it?”

“Maria saw Visel and his cronies when they came to an opening night party—I was not there.”

“And he was talking, was he? That surprises me.” As much of an irritant as Visel had been, Gabriel had never believed he was the type to have a big mouth.

“According to Maria, Visel said nothing. It was one of the other men—a man who was somewhat the worse for wear.”

“Visel wasn’t drunk?” Gabriel asked. He had certainly seemed well on the way during their scuffle. Perhaps the prospect of a duel had sobered him up?

“Maria only said he was quiet, as he usually is.” She took his hand and placed her delicate palm against his, absently examining the difference in size. “He does not seem the type to run with that crowd of louts. I believe he is more of a lone wolf beneath the reckless and outrageous veneer he has cultivated.”

Gabriel believed she was correct. “He appears to harbor a good deal of enmity toward me.”

“Yes, it certainly seems so.” She cocked her head. “Have you had many dealings with him? I thought he only recently returned to England a short while ago?”

“Yes, only a few months—six at the most, after years in the army.” And then he came to London with the sole intention of annoying and persecuting Gabriel. Or so it seemed.

Gabriel’s gaze was on her fingers, which were slender, soft, and delicate against his own much broader hands.

“Tell me what really happened last night? There was a girl, I think?”

He smiled at her. “You know I cannot speak of such things, Giselle.”

She gave him a playful nudge. “You are such an honorable man, mon amour. Surely you can tell me who this girl is?”

He supposed that would not hurt—since she was soon to become his wife. “Her name is Drusilla Clare. She is a close friend of my sister’s.”

She slanted him a look. “Ah, she is a good girl, then?”

Gabriel ignored that question. “We are to be married, tomorrow.”