‘He did,’ his mother said, eyeing her son from his shoes to his cravat as if she were looking for a strand of Olivia’s hair on his clothing.
‘I thought it would be the proper thing to do. We did not anticipate it taking as long as it did.’
‘I suppose that comes with age,’ Andrew mumbled through a smirk.
‘What was that?’ their mother asked, narrowing her eyes at his brother.
‘I said it must be difficult to gauge,’ he replied, looking at Gabriel with laughter in his eyes.
His mother glared at Andrew and Gabriel was certain, if his brother had been sitting closer, she would have rapped his knuckles with the fan she was tapping against her thigh.
‘I understand dinner is ready to be served,’ Olivia said, her gaze narrowed on Andrew as well. ‘Andrew, would you please escort me to the dining room?’
Bowing to Olivia, Andrew flashed her a devilish smile as if he was preparing to charm his way out of trouble. ‘Of course, the honour is mine, sister dear.’
‘Monty, some day Andrew will find a bride and you will not have to walk into dinner alone,’ Olivia said sweetly.
‘And when will that be, Andrew?’ his mother prodded. ‘Each day I move closer and closer to my grave.’
‘You are not even sixty years of age, Mother. I believe you are far from your grave.’
‘I hope she isn’t bookish,’ Monty interjected from the back. ‘I should hate to be forced to talk about literature or some other nonsense when we are together.’
‘What would you like to discuss?’ Gabriel asked.
‘I don’t know. Olivia is easy to speak with. Perhaps, Olivia, you know someone just like you that you could introduce to Andrew.’
‘There is no one else like Olivia,’ replied Gabriel, turning his head and catching her eye. ‘Besides, the only lady Andrew would find interesting would need to have extensive knowledge of pugilism and ale.’
‘Oh, dear Lord, I think I feel faint,’ his mother said.
‘At least she will probably be of a hardy stock,’ Olivia interjected over his mother’s shoulder.
‘That sounds perfect to me,’ Monty said. ‘Do find her soon, Andrew, or I might be married before you.’
‘That suits me, brat. Why don’t you find a lady and keep out of my affairs.’
‘Affairs?’ Olivia asked in a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Are you having an affair?’
Andrew cleared his throat. ‘That is not what I meant and you know it. Do not encourage them. I thought I was your favourite?’
‘You are.’
‘But you told me I was your favourite brother,’ Monty said petulantly.
‘And you are as well.’
‘You cannot have two favourite brothers,’ he replied.
‘I am a woman. Of course I can.’
‘That does not make any sense.’
‘The longer you are around women, the more you will see it makes perfect sense, brat.’
They reached the smaller dining room used for intimate meals. The conversation around the table was lively and pleasant. Knowing he would spend more evenings like this made Gabriel smile.
His mother wiped her mouth delicately with her napkin. ‘So, I understand Mrs Siddons will be coming back to the stage at Drury Lane. With your appreciation of the theatre I imagine you will be attending, Olivia.’
Olivia’s smile brightened the room. ‘Yes, I’ve been looking forward to tomorrow night for quite some time.’
‘I know Prinny adores her performances,’ his mother continued. ‘Goes on about them for days. I expect he will attend.’
‘We had discussed it just the other day,’ Olivia said smiling, as if she was recalling a rather pleasant conversation. Then her brow creased and her expression darkened. ‘However, he has been suffering terribly with the gout. I do not know if he will attend.’
Gabriel did not miss Andrew’s side-glance at the mention of Prinny attending the theatre. If Olivia knew he had been planning to attend the theatre, had she discussed it with Mr Manning? Did anyone else know of Prinny’s partiality for Mrs Siddons?
‘I will go with you.’ Gabriel knew full well his statement sounded like a command.
Everyone at the table turned to him in surprise.
He kept his eyes focused on Olivia. ‘I think it is time we announce our reconciliation.’
‘You do?’
‘I do. I can think of no better way to do so than to arrive together to a performance a good portion of London will be attending.’ He raised his brow expectantly for her agreement.
Her smile warmed him. ‘I would like that.’
‘Excellent. Would anyone else like to accompany us?’
Andrew began to say something when he suddenly looked down towards his leg and let out a muffled cry. Their mother, sitting next to him, smiled sweetly.
‘Did you want to join us, Andrew?’ Gabriel asked.
His brother shook his head, while he sunk his teeth into his lower lip.
Gabriel turned to Olivia. ‘It appears it will just be you and I.’
Gabriel was finishing up reviewing a speech Lyonsdale was preparing to give to the House of Lords and anticipating an exceptional evening with his wife when Bennett knocked on the door to his study. A letter had arrived. Gabriel was tempted to put it aside when he noticed the hand that had addressed it. He knew that writing. Closing his eyes, half in exasperation, half in dread, Gabriel broke the seal and read the words that were written for his eyes only.
Bile rose in his throat.
It might have been from the exotic scent of the paper, although it was more likely from the request made by Madame LaGrange to see him. As usual, her timing was impeccable. But Gabriel knew if she was contacting him, it must be urgent.
He hadn’t yet determined how he was going to convince her to trust Andrew with her communications in the future. If he had, perhaps he could have sent his brother to meet her. But he could not send Andrew to her without her permission. There was no doubt in his mind, if he did, she would sever her ties with him and refuse to provide any more information. He would have to go to her.
He threw the note into the fireplace and watched it burn. Glancing at his watch, Gabriel calculated how long it would take him to reach her establishment, meet with her and return home. If he left quickly, he should be back in enough time to escort Olivia to the theatre and no one would be the wiser. Leaving word with Mr James as to his location, Gabriel instructed him to contact Andrew should he not return home in three hours.
He took his own horse, which would be faster to manoeuvre through the streets of Mayfair. In no time, he was in front of Madame LaGrange’s nondescript white house on the edge of the fashionable district. Even though it was late afternoon, the entrance hall was filled with shadows from the clouds outside. He walked by the empty gaming rooms and saloons where gentlemen could relieve themselves of large amounts of cash in a rather short amount of time. At least no one was here to carry tales of his visit to her private suite of rooms.
Rapping his knuckles on her door, Gabriel was met with a muffled command to enter. The same exotic fragrance from her letter drifted through