Mrs. Gillingham seemed to suppress a grin. “You clearly don’t know my type then.” She turned her back to Mr. Pratt. “Thank you for your time. As usual, your payment will arrive no later than two days hence.”
“Much obliged, Gillingham.” Mr. Pratt nodded his farewell, then slunk off into the shadows, leaving Leonard and Mrs. Gillingham alone.
The walk back to the carriage was only punctuated by their footsteps in the otherwise eerie, quiet night. The coachman dutifully left his perch and opened the door, then shut it tight behind them, and the carriage jerked as the horses took off.
“Well, that was . . . interesting.” Leonard propped one foot on his knee, clasping his hands in his lap as he reclined into the seat. “Are all of your friends so colorful?”
Mrs. Gillingham kept her eyes on the window and shrugged. “For the most part.” After nearly a minute of tense silence, Mrs. Gillingham turned her face to him. “And what of your friends?”
Leonard thought of the stupid situation he found himself in now, and how it was mostly his friends’ fault. “They are why I am in this predicament in the first place.”
Mrs. Gillingham’s mouth formed a soft smile, the one she seemed to use when she was being genuine. “You must be quite close. Or is this more of a competition?”
Leonard thought back to the night on the channel when the waves pounded their vessel. It was almost enough to make him ill on the spot, the swaying of the carriage mimicking the roiling sea. “It was a competition. But one born out of desperation.”
“Do you care to explain?” Mrs. Gillingham leaned her shoulder against the far wall of the carriage, each of them hunkered into their corner as they watched one another.
Well, they had a bit of a ride ahead of them. Leonard supposed it wouldn’t hurt to share. “We were on our grand tour. Tensions in France came to a fevered pitch, and we thought it best to head home. But on the way, our ship was caught in a storm.” Leonard thought of his brother, Samuel, and how he would have been broken had Leonard not returned. “We almost didn’t make it out with our lives. And us, being reckless young men, agreed that whoever was the last to marry would owe every other person one hundred pounds.”
“Your friends came up with this wager as a distraction.” Mrs. Gillingham didn’t even ask, figuring out the details all on her own.
Leonard felt his mouth twitch. While she drove him mad, he couldn’t deny she was whip-smart. “Yes, that is precisely the reason. Very good, Mrs. Gillingham.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek, causing a dimple to form by her smile. “Are you surprised?”
Leonard studied her for a moment. “Not at all.”
Sitting up straight and adjusting her skirt, she gave him the first fleeting feeling that she was uncomfortable. “So, you made this wager with your friends. Do you see them often?”
Leonard took a large breath, remembering his dinner arrangements tomorrow. “Fairly. I am supposed to have dinner with Tristan—Mr. Shepherd—” he corrected. “Tomorrow.”
“And I presume, since he was part of this wager of which you lost, that Mr. Shepherd is married?”
“He is,” Leonard said, nodding. It was strange to have such a civil conversation with this woman. He wondered how long it would last before turning sideways. “He was the fourth in our group to marry.”
“I should very much like to meet him and his wife.” Mrs. Gillingham fiddled with her gloves, pulling on the finger of one hand and then yanking it back tight. “If that isn’t too presumptuous to request.”
Itwastoo presumptuous to ask. But never had Leonard seen Mrs. Gillingham uncomfortable as she clearly was now. “I suppose I could speak with Mrs. Shepherd.”
Her head snapped up, hope lighting in her eyes. “Truly?”
No, not really. But his mouth betrayed him. “Truly.”
Chapter Eleven
Leonard already had regrets, but Caroline had sent the invitation to Mrs. Gillingham the moment Tristan told his wife about the woman. Now Leonard was on the firing block.
“Who is she?” Tristan asked, giving Leonard his infamous smile.
Leonard wanted to slap it off his face. Tristan was finding way too much pleasure in his pain.
Not to mention, he couldn’t really answer Tristan’s question without giving away his ridiculous predicament. So he went with the safest choice. Part truth, but not the whole. “She is one of Andrew’s clients.”
This caused Tristan’s brow to pucker, but his smile remained. “Really? So he introduced you?”
“In a matter of words.” Leonard sipped the tea Caroline had called for. At the moment, she was upstairs getting ready for dinner.
“I know I shouldn’t be surprised that you are being so taciturn, but I am annoyed.” Tristan leaned his arm on the edge of the settee. “Is she pretty?”
