“I am Lady Sandhurst,” Maggie proclaimed loudly in a brashAmerican drawl that somehow made him want to drag her straightaway to theirchamber, no matter the old feelings that had once again burst into flame. “Sandy’swife,” she added, lest they be mistaken, he supposed, that she hadn’t happenedupon a great deal of their conversation.
Damn it. She had likely heard far too much. He strode toher, aware that it was his duty. After all, she was his wife above all else. Hesuspected there wasn’t a particular rule for introducing one’s wife to one’smistress. But even he could recognize precedence even if his mind was awhirl.
He offered Maggie his arm as he gained her side. She refusedto take it, so he pretended as if he were inspecting his coat sleeve insteadbefore performing the necessary. “Lady Sandhurst, I don’t believe you have yetmade the acquaintance of Lady Billingsley,” he said, all too aware he soundedawkward as a stripling attempting to woo his first maid.
“No,” Maggie murmured with a cat’s smile. “I have not.” Sheheld herself regally, pinning Eleanor with a queenly glare. “Nor can I honestlysay that I have ever wanted to make her acquaintance. She is not anyone I wouldcare to know. Why is she in our drawing room just now,Sandy?”
He didn’t like the way she said his name. Such scorn. Hefrowned at her for both her rudeness and impertinence, even if he couldn’t trulyblame her for either. “She is visiting, I suspect.”
“Visiting,” Eleanor echoed. “Pray, my lady, pay no attentionto me. I am merely throwing myself on your husband’s mercy as both an old anddear friend, and he has been kind enough to offer me his aid.”
What the hell? He had done no such thing. Damn the woman.She was trying to force his hand and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Was thismachinating woman truly the lady he’d fallen in love with? Had he somehowfailed to see her for her true self? He didn’t know.
“His aid,” Maggie murmured as if she were repeating anepithet. “How exceedingly kind and generous of him. I’ve discovered that myhusband is a most generous soul, Lady Billingsley.”
“Indeed.” Eleanor frowned, clearly not following Maggie’sline of thought.
Simon was afraid he was following it all the way to itsinevitable end. He had to admire her spunk. He wouldn’t wish to be on thereceiving end of her displeasure just now.
“Quite generous.” Maggie tilted her head, gracing Eleanorwith a lovely smile that hid quite a bit of bite behind it. “You are more thanwelcome to stay here at Denver House, my lady. But rest assured that hisgenerositywill not be extending toward yourself during your tenure here.”
He nearly choked as his fears came to fruition. “Maggie,” hecautioned, knowing by now that his wife possessed a backbone that was asunpredictable as it was formidable. Still, he hadn’t expected such a frankdressing-down from her. It was simply not done.
She didn’t spare him a glance, intent as she was on herquarry. “I gather you understand my meaning, Lady Billingsley?”
Eleanor cleared her throat, looking quite like a birdchoking upon a worm. “I must say that I do not, my lady.”
“Well, then let us be clear.” Maggie stalked across the roomand stopped before Eleanor, a wild cat facing down a lion. “If you choose toremain here as a guest, I cannot stop you, but I will not tolerate adultery inmy home.”
“Adultery?” Eleanor sputtered. He suspected no one had everbefore spoken to her with such lack of artifice.
“You will not be warming my husband’s bed.” Maggie pausedbefore whispering something unintelligible into Eleanor’s ear.
Simon wished he could have heard it. But he remained wherehe was, watching the tableau before him unfold as if he were an invalid. Or acomplete duffer. And perhaps that was what he was.
Eleanor blanched, her eyes flying to his. Christ, what hadMaggie threatened? A beheading? Then he read the hurt in her expression and heknew. His wife had revealed the extent of their relationship. His formermistress didn’t care for the disclosure. He couldn’t say he blamed her. He knewwhat it had felt like to think of her making love with her husband. It had beenakin to a knife being plunged directly into his gut. Time and space had lessenedthe pain. And if he were completely honest with himself, he had to admit thatMaggie had as well.
God, he was more confused than he’d ever been in his life.Just then, his wife gave him a seething look that didn’t bode well for himlater. He winced.
“I trust you will see your guest settled?” she asked. “Ifind I’m rather too weary to take on the task.”
He bowed, feeling like a complete ass beneath her witheringglare. “Of course, my dear.”
She disappeared in a swirl of silk and riotous curls. Heturned to Eleanor, wondering what in the hell he was going to do now. Hesupposed he’d have to allow her to stay on, at least for a few days. After all,she’d just told him that Billingsley had been mistreating her. He could not, ingood conscience, turn her away. But neither was he certain that he wanted herhere.
His mind was reeling, hopelessly confused by Eleanor, whathe’d learned about her, the feelings he’d begun to develop for Maggie. By God,he’d just been about the business of restoring the order to his life, and nowthe one woman who could threaten to ruin it had simply appeared in his drawingroom as if she hadn’t been gone.
“I’m sorry, Sandy,” Eleanor said quietly, interrupting histroubled thoughts. “I would have written you, but there wasn’t time. I couldn’thave known you’d have her in residence here.”
“Bloody, bloody hell,” he muttered, clenching thenunclenching his fists as he fought to keep control over himself.
“Why is she here?” Her gaze probed his.
It was a question to which there was no ready answer. Hepaused, wondering how much he ought to reveal to her. “We are spending a monthtogether as husband and wife,” he said at last.
She placed a tentative hand on his arm. “Is this your way ofenacting revenge upon me?”
He raised a brow. “You flatter yourself, darling. I haven’tthought of you in months.”
