The liquid sloshed nauseatingly on his tongue. Though his taste buds—and sense of self-preservation—rebelled, he forced himself to swallow. Indeed, it was far worse than he’d first assumed.
Gabe’s gaze flicked upward to see how Mary was enjoying the first course and his stomach roiled threateningly. Mary sat happily in intimate conversation with Lord Reddington, their heads close together, thick as thieves, each ignoring their revolting onion oil water.
Reddington’s gaze slipped downward to Mary’s plunging décolletage before he whispered something in her ear. Gabe fought the thunderous scowl that threatened.
Lady Kerr leaned toward him and Gabe reluctantly pried his gaze from Mary’s distressing circumstance to turn his attention to the lady at his side. “Do tell me, Mr. Spencer, how you convinced Miss White to become your mistress; I was under the impression that she would not take on a protector.”
Gabe gave her a toothy, cocksure smile, still seething over Mary’s apparent admirer. “The same way I have gotten all of my mistresses into my bed, my lady.” He winked at her. “Considerable skill.”
“Mmm.” Her voice had a throaty resonance. “My lover has yet to arrive to this little house party… Perhaps you should pay a visit to my bedchamber so you can show me just howconsiderableyour skill is.” She ran a finger around the rim of his shirt collar, scraping the underside of his jaw with her nail.
Gabe hid a grimace at the sharp pain.
Blazes. She could very well have drawn blood.
Swallowing down his revulsion, Gabe forced his smile to grow and his eyes to warm.
He opened his mouth to inform her that he would consider her offer—though Lord knew he would never sleep with a woman not only so high above his station but one so overpoweringly irritating—but his reply was cut off by deep, boisterous laughter. Through the main dining room doors came five late-arrivals.
The scraping of chairs echoed through the room as the diners rose to greet the guests.
The first man to enter was a nearly forty, portly, well-dressed fellow, likely of the peerage. He entered with a petite, young, red haired woman who was very clearly his mistress, for she hung adoringly on his arm. Behind them was another man, though this one was vastly different from the first, where the former was tall and round, this man was short and slender. Gabe gazed at him with a critical eye. He was likely not a peer but dressed far above his station. He, very like Gabe’s disguise, was dandified in his attire. He must have a wealth of funds, as he entered with a woman oneacharm. Both were buxom blondes and both tittered unattractively as Gabe bowed over their hands.
Lady Kerr moved to stand beside Gabe, “Mr. Spencer, this is Lord Sheffield and his very good friend, Lady Kellings.”
Gabe bowed to the rotund Lord Sheffield. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord, my lady.” Gabe bent over Lady Kellings’ hand, but before he could pull away, she extended her slender fingers to rub them across his lips.
Taken aback by such a brazen gesture, Gabe missed the name of the blonde mistresses of the second gentleman. He sketched a brief bow, nonetheless. He did not fail to catch the name of the gentleman, however.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Jackson,” Gabe bowed to the short, slender man with orange hair.
Gabe then watched as the group was introduced to Mary. She was perfect, her character completely in place. Of course, she lived her actress persona more often than Gabe cared to contemplate.
Her lips curved seductively upward at something Lord Sheffield mumbled quietly to her and Gabe clenched his jaw. It was time to uncover the traitors here and take Mary away from this place entirely.
