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A dark-haired guard with a large forehead greeted him. “Morning, milord,” he said, walking over to the gate. “I hope you have a pleasant day.”
“Thank you,” Oliver replied as he stepped through the gate.
Corbyn followed him through the cobblestone courtyard and remarked, “I wonder what Lady Oliver must think about her husband not coming home last night.”
“I will simply explain that I was visiting a gambling hell.”
“Ah, and you are foolish enough to think that might appease her?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” Oliver asked with a shrug. “It is the truth.”
Corbyn chuckled. “It has been my experience that women do not appreciate when their husbands stay out all night.”
“Emmeline is different.”
“In what way?”
Oliver arrived at the main door and reached for the handle. “It is a marriage of convenience,” he said as he opened the door.
“I still contend that she expects you to come home every night, and perhaps even spend time with her.”
Once Corbyn stepped into the entry hall, Oliver closed the door behind him. “I have every intention of returning home after the meeting tonight,” he said.
“That is a start, but…”
Corbyn’s words trailed off when Jane marched towards them with a thunderous look on her face, holding the morning newspaper in her right hand.
She stopped in front of him and held the newspaper up. “Do you know what this is?”
“A morning newspaper,” Oliver replied plainly.
Jane’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And do you know what it says about you and Emmeline?”
He shook his head. “I do not.”
“Every member of Society is laughing at Emmeline because they do not think it is possible for you to be satisfied with just one woman.”
Oliver grabbed the paper out of her hands and opened to the Society page. As he read the article, he found himself growing increasingly agitated at the writer’s blunt opinion of his philandering ways.
He met his sister’s gaze. “Has Emmeline read this yet?”
“She has not.”
“Good.” He folded the paper and placed it on a side table. “We need to keep this away from her.”
Jane stared back at him. “For what purpose?” she asked. “Emmeline is clever, and she will eventually figure out that the members of thetonare relishing in her misery.”
“Emmeline is not miserable,” he said firmly.
“No?” Jane questioned, tilting her chin. “You should have seen her face when she inquired about your whereabouts this morning.”
He winced. “I was hoping she hadn’t realized I stayed out all night.”
“I suppose she shouldn’t have been surprised, since you abandoned her for dinner, as well,” Jane remarked dryly.
Oliver glanced over at Corbyn before he replied, “I had to go out.”
“Did you?” Jane scoffed. “I am sure your friends wouldn’t possibly know what to do with themselves if you weren’t right next to them at the gambling hell.”
