Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Later That Afternoon, Brooks’s Club

L ucian sat in a large leather chair, wedged between half a dozen of his friends, with a marked frown on his face. He’d spent the better part of the last hour being regaled by story after story about his wife.

It had all begun innocently enough. He’d arrived at the club to find several of his old friends lounging about. One of them had offered to buy him a drink. The others had gathered round to welcome him back, and now he was sitting in the middle of a storytelling session, and Gemma was the protagonist of every single one .

“It’s a good thing you’re back, Grovemont,” Lord Hightower said with his deep chuckle.

“Why’s that?” Lucian grumbled, already dreading the answer. It was certain to have something to do with Gemma’s popularity. That had been the theme of all the stories so far. His wife. His beautiful, popular, beloved-by-everyone wife. Apparently, they called her the belle of the ton now. In addition to having befriended all of his servants, Gemma had also apparently charmed all of Society. What was left? The King’s court?

“I daresay your wife’s had more marriage proposals than this year’s crop of debutantes combined.” The older man laughed heartily at his own words.

“What?” Lucian scrubbed a frustrated hand across his brow. How was that possible? “She’s married to me . She cannot entertain marriage proposals,” he shot back.

“Perhaps, but more than one chap has been hoping your ship got lost at sea, if you know what I mean,” Lord Bellingham added with an annoying wink and an even more grating laugh.

“We’ve all been wagering on when you’d come back. Surely, you’d heard?” Lord Markham added.

“Heard what?” Lucian hadn’t heard anything, of course. And these fools should know it.

“How gorgeous your wife has become. You should know she’s had a least a half dozen offers from gentlemen to take a lover,” Lord Markham continued, significantly lowering his voice on that last bit.

“The duchess’s dance card is never empty, that’s for certain,” Lord Hargate added.

Lucian’s fingers curled into a fist, and he eyed them all with supreme distaste. So far he had been able to glean that apparently, Gemma, his tall, coltish wife, who’d been too thin and too awkward, had turned into a great beauty.

He couldn’t picture it. Wasn’t even certain how such a thing could have happened. She had been quite young when he’d left. Was it possible that in the year since he’d been gone, she’d changed that much? According to every man at this club, it wasn’t just possible. It was a fact.

Add to that, the news that Gemma was apparently the darling of the ton . She had a full social calendar, according to these chaps. She hosted parties and attended them, knew everyone and was known by everyone. And apparently she was adored by all of Society.

Damn it. He’d clearly made a mistake not shipping her off to Cumberland.

“I must admit,” came Lord Tinsley’s reedy voice, “I didn’t understand when you first married her. Other than her being of good family, that is. But now I realize that you were the cleverest of the lot all along, Grovemont. You managed to marry the most beautiful lady the ton ’s seen in an age before she was beautiful.” Tinsley nearly laughed himself hoarse while Lucian glared at him from behind his half-filled brandy glass.

“And I’ve had more than one lad ask me if you’d look askance at your wife taking a lover,” Lord Berbrook said. “Though I did remind him that you’ve yet to sire an heir, so he will probably have to wait.”

Wait indeed. Lucian tossed back the rest of his drink. Was he having a fever dream? Had he contracted ague, that dread illness common in India due to the humid air? How was it possible that his wife—his scheming, disobedient wife—had become the toast of the ton in fifteen short months?

Lucian didn’t know. But he was damn sure about to find out…immediately. He signaled to the footman that he was leaving.

“Who did you say was having a ball tonight?” he asked his friends as he stood up.

“The Monroes,” they shouted in unison.

Lucian lifted his chin by way of good-bye. The Monroes were having a ball tonight. That’s where Gemma would be. So that’s where Lucian was going.