was strong-willed and would rather remain a spinster than marry someone who would be unfaithful.
“I think it is time for bed, my dear,” said the countess from the doorway, interrupting her thoughts.
“Yes, of course.” Did Nick’s mother think her a light-skirt that she had been willing to kiss her son, at night, in the drawing room? But the older woman smiled at her and placed an arm around her shoulder as she led her to the stairs.
“I think we should have a talk in the morning,” said Lady Chetfern. Gabriella shot a worried gaze at her and the countess chuckled.
“Oh my dear, I am not angry, nor do I think any less of you for kissing Nick. I stole a few kisses from his father before we wed. I think I need to have the mother-daughter talk with you. No offence to Lady Thornwich but I assume she has not discussed the wedding night with you.”
Heat rose in Gabriella’s cheeks but she forced herself to look at the older woman as she shook her head.
“No. And although I have the general idea, it would be nice to have a few things…clarified.”
“I thought so. I am not easily shocked, Gabriella, so tomorrow feel free to ask me anything you wish. I would have appreciated some candid advice before I married the earl. Now sleep well and I shall see you at breakfast. I think another trip to the shops will be in order, followed by an ice at Gunther’s.”
Gabriella smiled. It didn’t matter how old she got, a trip to Gunther’s for an ice was always the highlight of a visit to the town. And considering how hot she was after Nick had kissed her, something cool and refreshing would not go amiss.
****
A loud rattle on the front door made Gabriella jump. Who knew sound could travel so far in a big townhouse like that owned by the Chetferns? But then her bedchamber was directly above the front door too. Molly, her maid, had just finished brushing out her hair and was in the process of braiding it before she slipped under the welcome covers of her bed. She was tired from this evening’s events.
“What the devil is going on?” came the grumbling tones of the earl.
“Lord Eastden.” It was the butler’s voice. “What happened?”
Gabriella did not wait to hear any more. She shoved her arms into her dressing gown and was heading out the door of her bedchamber before she had even finished tying it. The butler’s voice had been full of concern.
“I found him, just around the corner.” She leaned over the bannister and saw a well-dressed gentleman in a greatcoat and top hat, his arm around Nick’s waist, helping him down the hall. She followed the earl downstairs. In the pale candlelight she could see the top of Nick’s head shining with liquid. Despite his dark hair masking what the liquid was, Gabriella knew it was blood.
But she had no time to be squeamish. The earl had reached Nick.
“I think he was attacked. Footpads most likely,” said the young man helping Nick. “I was walking home from White’s…that’s how I know him, and he was slumped against a railing. I nearly walked by, thinking he was a drunk servant till I spotted his cane. I knew it was a fine cane, not something a ruffian or a servant would own. I bent down and I saw it was Eastden. I just brought him here hoping someone would be home.”
“Good idea. You’re the younger son of Swain, are you not?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Thank you for bringing him home. I shall help him up to his room. Please excuse my manners, I would offer you a drink but…”
“No! Please, my lord, I need no thanks. I was just glad I was passing.” The young man made a quick bow and turned to leave.
The butler and the earl took an arm each and began to help Nick up the stairs. He was muttering incoherently. But it was at least a good thing that he was somewhat conscious. Gabriella hurried up the stairs ahead of the men, encouraging a distraught Lady Chetfern up with her so she would not hamper the men’s progress.
“Which room?” Gabriella
“I think it is time for bed, my dear,” said the countess from the doorway, interrupting her thoughts.
“Yes, of course.” Did Nick’s mother think her a light-skirt that she had been willing to kiss her son, at night, in the drawing room? But the older woman smiled at her and placed an arm around her shoulder as she led her to the stairs.
“I think we should have a talk in the morning,” said Lady Chetfern. Gabriella shot a worried gaze at her and the countess chuckled.
“Oh my dear, I am not angry, nor do I think any less of you for kissing Nick. I stole a few kisses from his father before we wed. I think I need to have the mother-daughter talk with you. No offence to Lady Thornwich but I assume she has not discussed the wedding night with you.”
Heat rose in Gabriella’s cheeks but she forced herself to look at the older woman as she shook her head.
“No. And although I have the general idea, it would be nice to have a few things…clarified.”
“I thought so. I am not easily shocked, Gabriella, so tomorrow feel free to ask me anything you wish. I would have appreciated some candid advice before I married the earl. Now sleep well and I shall see you at breakfast. I think another trip to the shops will be in order, followed by an ice at Gunther’s.”
Gabriella smiled. It didn’t matter how old she got, a trip to Gunther’s for an ice was always the highlight of a visit to the town. And considering how hot she was after Nick had kissed her, something cool and refreshing would not go amiss.
****
A loud rattle on the front door made Gabriella jump. Who knew sound could travel so far in a big townhouse like that owned by the Chetferns? But then her bedchamber was directly above the front door too. Molly, her maid, had just finished brushing out her hair and was in the process of braiding it before she slipped under the welcome covers of her bed. She was tired from this evening’s events.
“What the devil is going on?” came the grumbling tones of the earl.
“Lord Eastden.” It was the butler’s voice. “What happened?”
Gabriella did not wait to hear any more. She shoved her arms into her dressing gown and was heading out the door of her bedchamber before she had even finished tying it. The butler’s voice had been full of concern.
“I found him, just around the corner.” She leaned over the bannister and saw a well-dressed gentleman in a greatcoat and top hat, his arm around Nick’s waist, helping him down the hall. She followed the earl downstairs. In the pale candlelight she could see the top of Nick’s head shining with liquid. Despite his dark hair masking what the liquid was, Gabriella knew it was blood.
But she had no time to be squeamish. The earl had reached Nick.
“I think he was attacked. Footpads most likely,” said the young man helping Nick. “I was walking home from White’s…that’s how I know him, and he was slumped against a railing. I nearly walked by, thinking he was a drunk servant till I spotted his cane. I knew it was a fine cane, not something a ruffian or a servant would own. I bent down and I saw it was Eastden. I just brought him here hoping someone would be home.”
“Good idea. You’re the younger son of Swain, are you not?”
“Aye, sir.”
“Thank you for bringing him home. I shall help him up to his room. Please excuse my manners, I would offer you a drink but…”
“No! Please, my lord, I need no thanks. I was just glad I was passing.” The young man made a quick bow and turned to leave.
The butler and the earl took an arm each and began to help Nick up the stairs. He was muttering incoherently. But it was at least a good thing that he was somewhat conscious. Gabriella hurried up the stairs ahead of the men, encouraging a distraught Lady Chetfern up with her so she would not hamper the men’s progress.
“Which room?” Gabriella
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