Leonard reared back. Yes, she was pretty. But if he said as much, Tristan would get the wrong idea. “I believe most men would think so.”
Tristan threw his head back with a laugh. “Only you would phrase it so, Leonard. You know it is perfectly acceptable to admit a lady is attractive. It is even acceptable to tell her that.” A beat of silence passed. “Have you?”
“Have I what?” Leonard met his stare straight on. He could play ignorant all night long.
With barely restrained glee, Tristan tilted his head. “Told her she is pretty.”
“No. I have not.” Leonard pulled his cravat slightly. Goodness, it was warm in this room. “We do not have that type of relationship.”
“Then why did you invite her here this evening?”
“I didn’t,” Leonard corrected. “Caroline did.”
Tristan leaned back. “Yes, at your request.”
Shaking his head, Leonard stood, then walked around to the back of the chair he had been sitting in. “If I am being honest, I felt sorry for the young woman. She is a widow and doesn’t seem to have any friends. That is why I asked Caroline to invite her.”
Tristan’s smile faded. “I don’t believe you.”
“What is there not to believe?”
“Never have you asked for a woman, a single one at that, to be invited to dine. No,” he said, shaking his head. “There is more afoot here than you let on.”
“Well, while you try your best to solve this little mystery, please be discreet. I don’t want Mrs. Gillingham getting the wrong idea.”
“And she is a widow?” Tristan asked again.
“Yes. Her husband died . . .” Leonard’s words trailed off. Did she say when her husband had died?
“Died . . .” Tristan rolled his hand in the air, beckoning Leonard to continue.
“I don’t think she actually told me,” he finally admitted. “But she is no longer in mourning, judging by her attire. Nor does she seem particularly sad. Surely it’s been several years.”
“How old is she?” Tristan couldn’t hide his curiosity, his face scrunching.
“I—” Again, something Leonard didn’t know. “If I had to guess, I would say twenty-four.”
“Guess? Goodness, Leonard. What kind of a besotted beau are you?”
“I’mnot,” he gritted out. “I told you that.”
“Yes,” Tristan said, his eyes flicking to the stairs as Caroline descended. “So you said.”
If the way Tristan looked at his wife was any indication, then Leonard was far from falling for Mrs. Gillingham. The adoration on his friend’s face was obvious, and he wasn’t even a bit ashamed of the fact.
“Caroline,” he said, waving her closer. “Come and help me pester Stanton about his new lady friend.”
She smiled but turned to Leonard with a look of pity. “Has he been unbearable while I was upstairs?”
“Only partially.”
“Nonsense.” Tristan pulled Caroline’s hand until she sat tucked beside him on the settee. “I am never unbearable.”
Caroline swatted at him, then pushed away and stood with a smile.
“Now,” she said, ignoring her husband’s adoring smile as he looked up at her. “I want to make sure Mrs. Gillingham is comfortable this evening. Where shall I sit her at the table?”
Again, Leonard looked like an imbecile. He had no idea of her social ranking. “I don’t know.”
