“I couldn’t say, milady.” Gabby felt Diggs didn’t quite approve of Huntley’s choice for a countess even though she was the youngest sister to one of the most powerful dukes in London.
She decided he was jesting her as she studied him through a long pause. She gave him a sharp nod. “Thank you, Diggs. You may set it on the table by the windows.” He did as she asked, then went to the door. He cast another disparaging look at Lady Macbeth before disappearing. Maybe it was the pup’s name…
Gabby scooped up her newfound companion. She held her up and looked into her warm, lively brown eyes. “I do believe Diggs does not recognize royalty when he sees it, my lady.”
Brita giggled, closing the door. She went to the wardrobe and pulled out a lacy confection and held it up.
Gabby gasped. “What are you doing?”
“I believe your husband has plans for you, milady.”
“Plans,” she repeated, looking at the champagne. The adjoining door parted, and Gabby’s husband stood there donned in a black silk robe.
“Good evening, wife.” He strolled over to Brita, fingered the lace she held, then confiscated it. “I’ll handle things from here. You’re excused for the evening.”
Lady Macbeth was apparently stunned silent.
Gabby spun around, putting her back to Huntley, and watched her giggling maid make her escape. Before Gabby could garner her defenses, the bodice of her gown was drooping from her shoulders. She held Lady Macbeth to her chest, keeping her dress in place. Gabby spun back around to blast him with her outrage. There was no need. Lady Macbeth had found her voice and yapped her own outrage on Gabby’s behalf.
“What the devil is that?”
“A dog.”
“That is not a dog. That is a rat. Where did it come from?”
“The mews. She was quite hungry,” she said with a sniff.
He narrowed his eyes on her puppy who had apparently decided he didn’t seem so bad, the little traitor. “It doesn’t have any hair. When did we acquire it?”
“We didn’t acquire her. I did.”
“Mm. Where does it sleep?”
Gabby lifted her nose. “With me, of course.”
His appalled look had her biting back a quick laugh. She and Huntley did not laugh together. “In the bed?” he demanded in apparent shock.
Resentment stirred through her. Why should it matter to him? No one else slept there besides her. “Yes.”
“Where does it stay when you’re not home?”
Irritation fluttered through her. “In my sitting room. What do you care?”
“Ah. Well, then.” He swooped in and instantly took possession of Lady Macbeth, leaving Gabby to clutch her gaping dress. He strolled over to the sitting room and set Lady Macbeth inside and closed the door on a hurt cry that broke Gabby’s heart.
“What do you think you are doing?” Gabby huffed out. “She doesn’t understand.”
“Rats don’t have to understand.” He took Gabby by the shoulders.
“Quit calling her a rat.” Her sudden breathlessness was an annoyance. “Her name is Lady Macbeth.”
He jerked back and stared into her face. “You cannot be serious. Who name’s a rat after a deranged, murderous literary character?”
Satisfaction rippled through her, and she couldn’t quite contain her amusement.
“Dear God. You’ll set the ton on its ear if anyone learns you’ve named that… creature—” He shoved a hand through his hair.
“Yes, I suppose it will,” she said lightly.
