Page 4 of A Perfect Gentleman

“Business associate?” Graeme’s lip curled. “Fellow crook is more like it. Is her father here, as well?”

“No,” James told him. “Thurston’s still in America, no doubt perpetrating stock swindles on other unsuspecting souls.”

“At least there’s some relief in that.”

“I don’t know how that dreadful man can do such things,” Mirabelle said, her eyes suddenly glinting with tears. “Poor Reginald. He had no idea . . .”

“No, of course not, Mother.”

“It’s my opinion Thurston Price should have gone to gaol, enticing innocent people to invest in something just so he could make an enormous profit, then leaving them to crash.” Mirabelle pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

Her sister reached over and patted her hand. “Reggie always was inclined to great optimism.”

“Yes, he was, wasn’t he?” Mirabelle gave her a tremulous smile. “It was one of the many things everyone loved about him.”

Everyone had loved his father altogether too much, Graeme thought, but he said only, “Unfortunately, what Mr. Price did was not illegal.”

“Hmph. Only wicked.” Mirabelle sniffed.

“Yes, wicked indeed. But that is long past. It has nothing to do with why Miss Pri— I mean, Lady Montclair, is here. Is she having—” He glanced at the women. “I beg your pardon, Mother, Aunt Tessa. This is not a fit topic for ladies.”

“Good heavens, Graeme, don’t stop just when you’re getting to the interesting part,” Tessa exclaimed. “One can be too polite, you know.”

Graeme looked at James, whose eyes were brimming with laughter. “Oh, very well. Is she having an affair with this American chap?”

“I have no idea.” James shrugged. “The thought doesn’t seem to disturb you.”

“I don’t care what she does. If she thinks to hurt me with an affair, she’s fair and far off.”

“But, Graeme, dear,” his mother said in a soft voice. “What about the heir? What if she . . . you know . . . bore another man’s son? What would you do?”

“It would be a dreadful scandal,” Tessa agreed, her voice threaded with excitement. “Even if she doesn’t have a child, it makes for titillating gossip. Merely by appearing in London again, it has stirred up all the old gossip. Everyone is rehashing the wedding—”

“Oh! That ostentatious display!” Mirabelle shook her head.

“Perhaps more importantly,” James added, “there was the matter of the new bride taking to her heels the following morning.”

“Yes, really, Graeme, couldn’t you have held on to her for longer than a night?” Tessa asked.

His mother whirled on her sister. “Tessa! It wasn’t Graeme’s fault! He could hardly have kept her prisoner. I am sure leaving is what she had in mind all along.”

“Well.” Tessa turned up her hands in an eloquently questioning manner. “There were all those rumors . . .”

“Could we please not discuss the details of my wedding night?” Graeme ran his hand back through his hair. “You said Grandmother sent you with a message for me. What is it?”

“She wants you to come back to London and deal with your wife,” James said tersely. “It’s Lady Eugenia’s opinion you should bring her to the estate, where she can’t create any more talk.”

“Bring her here? To Lydcombe Hall?” Graeme straightened. “You can’t be serious. She wants me to live with Abigail?”

“Men have been known to live with their wives,” James offered mildly.

“I won’t. I refuse to have her here, to subject my mother to—”

“Oh, no, dear, I won’t mind.” Mirabelle leaned across the table and patted his hand. “Truly. I am sure she cannot be that disagreeable. It’s a large house. No doubt we could all rub along well enough for a while, at least until the scandal dies down. Maybe she regrets running off like that years ago. It could have been a momentary impulse, just a fit of nerves, you know, and now she would like another chance.”

“Speaking of great optimism,” Graeme said in an exasperated voice. He sighed and squeezed his mother’s hand gently. “No. I don’t think the Prices are given to fits of nerves. I don’t know what she wants, but I feel sure it is nothing good. And Grandmother is right, as always. I shall have to go to London to settle the matter.”

“Will you bring her back here?” Mirabelle asked. “What room, I wonder, should I make up for her?”