‘Perhaps you are mistaken,’ she said, taking the last three grapes and popping them into her mouth in rapid succession. She narrowed her eyes at Gabriel, challenging him to take anything else from her plate.
He reached across and broke off a small wedge of cheese. It was a childish thing to do, but he could not resist the impulse. ‘I do believe you never did say what the two of you were discussing when I walked in,’ he said to her.
‘No, I do not believe we did.’ She lifted her plate and Frederick jumped to take it. ‘I know you are a very busy man. We do not wish to keep you from your business.’
Gabriel took a long drink and looked between his wife and Andrew. ‘My business can wait.’ He didn’t like the feeling of being pushed to the side—of not being privy to something that was going on under his roof.
He felt like an outsider.
He caught his brother’s eye. ‘I’m surprised to find you here.’
‘I don’t see why. I enjoy Olivia’s company.’
‘Andrew came here looking for you. I invited him to join me for dinner and he kindly accepted,’ Olivia broke in, glaring at Gabriel like she wanted to throttle him.
The gilded candelabra resting on the table a few feet away appeared to be very heavy and Gabriel wondered if he should have one of the footmen remove it.
‘I take it your presence here means your health has improved,’ Gabriel said to Andrew, wishing he could grab his brother and drag him out of the dining room without causing suspicion. If he had searched Gabriel out, there was a reason.
Andrew narrowed his gaze at Gabriel and leaned forward. ‘It has. Even though our mother is under the assumption I was suffering from the effects of too much ale. Now where do you suppose she acquired that notion?’
It took great effort for Gabriel not to sputter his wine back into his glass. He could not, however, hold back his smile. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’
Andrew nodded and fell back into his chair. ‘Just as I thought.’
‘I still cannot believe you were set upon by thieves on your way here,’ Olivia broke in. ‘I find it astonishing they would consider attacking you with your intimidating size. Hopefully, the bruises on your hand will heal quickly.’
Andrew shot a quick glance at Gabriel before looking at the knuckles of his right hand and flexing his fingers into a fist. ‘I’m sure the bruises will be gone in a day or two.’ He smiled warmly at Olivia. ‘You are very kind to be so concerned.’
‘Nonsense,’ she replied in earnest. ‘I wish you would let me send you home with some healing salve.’
‘I will be fine. Stop fussing so. Save your mothering for Nicholas,’ he said reassuringly.
The colour drained from Olivia’s face. The topic of mothering brought back all the horrid events of last night and Gabriel knew she was remembering them as well. He should be angry with her—hell, he had been. She had insulted his honour. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was to blame for what she thought of him.
The sight of her in that ridiculously large nightrail had set his blood on fire and made him instantly hard. He knew he would have embarrassed himself if he had managed to get all that fabric off her. It had been so long since they were together. Olivia had the most amazing bottom he had ever seen and over the last five years, four months and eleven days he’d found himself sneaking a glimpse of it whenever her back was to him.
His thoughts were on her curves when he heard his brother call his name. Shaking his head, he looked at Andrew.
‘I asked you how Nicholas liked his ride through Hyde Park. Olivia told me you took him.’
‘He liked it very much.’ He took another sip of claret, needing to redirect his thoughts away from Olivia’s soft skin and enticing curves. As he motioned for more wine, he caught Andrew’s amused expression.
‘What name has he settled on?’
‘To my knowledge he is still undecided.’
Olivia looked as if she was about to say something, then took a sip from her glass instead. He stared at her expectantly, but she turned away. There was an uncomfortable silence. Gabriel knew she wanted him to leave. He was not welcome at his own dinner table. She already thought he would take her with no consideration for her comfort. Did he really want her to believe he was a bore as well?
Rising from his seat, Gabriel took his glass and strode to the door. ‘Come to my study on your way out, Andrew,’ he said, not waiting for a reply.
* * *
An hour later, his brother strolled into his study without even knocking. ‘Why do I feel as if you do not like me spending time alone with Olivia?’
‘Don’t be absurd. She considers you her brother.’ Gabriel sat back at his desk chair and watched Andrew walk to the table set with crystal bottles and pour two glasses of brandy. ‘How often do you dine here?’
‘You mean since Nicholas has been born?’
Gabriel nodded and Andrew sighed, sliding the stopper back in the bottle.
‘I don’t know. I’ve never counted. You should try it some time. She is vastly entertaining.’ He placed a glass of brandy in front of Gabriel and sank into the chair across from him.
Gabriel leaned forward and narrowed his gaze. ‘What do the two of you talk about? I was never under the impression you had anything in common. Dear God...has she developed a love of gambling?’
Andrew shook his head, laughing. ‘Our discussions are quite varied. Were you aware she recently began acquiring a repertoire of bawdy tales? They’re quite good.’
Gabriel’s brain almost exploded. ‘You’re joking.’
‘I’m quite serious. Probably from that painter she has been spending time with.’
‘What painter?’
‘The one she is sitting for.’
Gabriel wondered which painter Andrew was referring to. She knew so many and had been patron to a few over the years.
‘You do know she is sitting for a portrait, don’t you?’
Did Andrew have to look so smug? Gabriel rubbed his lower lip and looked away. The idea his brother knew more about his wife than he did was beginning to bother him. ‘Of course I do.’
‘I should hope so, considering the man has quite the reputation.’ Andrew sank back further into his chair.
‘Reputation for what?’
‘You really don’t know anything about her or her friends, do you?’
‘I do,’ he lied. ‘We live in the same house.’
Andrew nodded slowly. ‘Well, in any event, I’m glad you came home when you did. I wanted to tell you in person our gunman has finally begun to talk. We were able to use the information Hart gathered to convince our Mr Clarke that if he cared at all for his family, he would tell us what we needed to know. It appears thoughts of his sickly mother helped him find his voice. He says he was contacted by a note left for him at the post about assassinating Prinny and he was told that he would find information on Prinny’s whereabouts in a book he was to check in each day at Hatchard’s bookshop on Piccadilly. He has no idea who leaves the information, just that when he completed his job, he would receive a thousand pounds. Since he has no love for our monarchy, he didn’t see a problem with profiting from Prinny’s death.’
‘I assume we have men at Hatchard’s?’
‘We do.’
‘Let’s hope that whoever was providing this information is not aware Mr Clarke is no longer in circulation. That is the