Leonard leaned slightly nearer. “Are you nervous?”
“A bit,” she said, tucking a blonde strand of hair behind her ear.
“That surprises me.”
“Believe it or not, I am human, Mr. Stanton.”
Leonard picked up his glass after a servant poured a bit of wine into it, and he held it to his lips before answering, “You had me completely fooled.” He took a drink, noticing her head jerk toward him as he filled his mouth with the bold, fruity drink.
“A joke,” she said, a smile in her voice. “I shall take that as the highest compliment coming from you. That means we must be becoming friends.”
The wine stuck in his throat, briefly choking him before he swallowed the rest down and regained his composure. “I do not know if I’d go so far as all that.”
Ambrose, seated to Mrs. Gillingham’s right, soon engaged her in polite conversation, giving Leonard a break from his discomfort. Only last night the two of them were in a park in the dead of night, speaking with a man of what Leonard could only assume was of ill repute. And now, they were having dinner in his friend’s home.
The rest of the meal passed without great incident, and Mrs. Gillingham seemed to be behaving herself as far as conversation went. She was a bit quieter than she typically was with Leonard, for which he was grateful. A certain lightness had come over her this evening, and Leonard found himself actually noticing her physical attributes because of it. Her lips were prone to smile at nearly anything one could find pleasure in, and when not forming her haughty smile, they looked tender—soft.
A rude cough caused Leonard to nearly jump out of his skin. He whipped his head toward Tristan, who gave him a wide, wry grin. Luckily, Leonard was saved from having to answer for himself as Caroline took the ladies into the drawing room, leaving the men to their port.
Only now, his friends would be able to ask him questions without reservation.
Andrew wasted no time, leaning his hands on the table. “What in blazes is going on, Stanton? Why is Mrs. Gillingham here?”
“I think it is a nice turn of events,” Tristan said, taking his port as he leaned further into his seat.
“You already lost the wager,” Ambrose pointed out, always one to follow the logic. “So I have to believe this is borne of actual feelings.”
“It is borne of nothing,” Leonard said, wrapping his fingers around his glass. “Nothing more than trying to introduce Mrs. Gillingham to some society, that is.”
“I don’t believe it.” Ambrose watched Leonard over his glass. “It does not add up. How did you even meet this woman?”
“Through me,” Andrew piped in.
“Well done, Andrew.” Tristan set his glass down and gave a few claps for their friend. “Though, you have still lost, Leonard.” He gave him a pitying glance. “Do not worry. We will not rush you about the payment. End of the year will suffice.”
“You all will get your comeuppance.” Leonard took a drink and endured the remainder of their barbs and jabs. Mrs. Gillingham would now owe him even more than she already did after this evening.
As they filtered into the drawing room, Leonard spotted her with the women, her smile unusually tense and forced. Out of sheer curiosity, he headed toward her and took a seat near but not next to her.
“What are you ladies up to?” Andrew asked, standing behind his wife’s seat.
Sophie practically grimaced as she looked up at him. “We are planning a little musicale for you gentlemen to enjoy.”
Andrew gently patted her shoulder, as if consoling her for her predicament. Leonard happened to know that Sophie was not one who loved such things. Mathematics was much more her style.
“Wonderful,” Ambrose said, taking a seat on the settee beside his new bride, Susanna. “Sounds like a splendid way to spend our evening.”
Leonard looked at Mrs. Gillingham, who seemed unnaturally excited about the prospect—meaning, her smile was stretched unnaturally across her face. And when the first woman rose to play, which happened to be their hostess, Caroline, Leonard scooted his way to Mrs. Gillingham. “What are you going to play?” he asked, his voice hushed as piano notes floated through the room.
Mrs. Gillingham’s chest rose and fell much quicker than Leonard thought normal—or healthy. “I do not know.” Shelooked to her lap, sneaking glances at Caroline as she played, but never holding the gaze, as if she couldn’t bring herself to.
“Do not tell me you don’t know how to play.” What young woman did not play some sort of instrument?
She pursed her lips for a moment before lifting her chin. “I do not know how to play.”
“Well, this will be very uncomfortable for you, then.” He crossed his legs in front of him as he did the same with his arms across his chest. How splendid. Now he could witness the confident, frustrating Mrs. Gillingham get a taste of her own medicine.
“You are finding great pleasure in this, aren’t you?” She huffed. “I guess I cannot blame you. I have been quite unpleasant.”
