“Hmm. It seems to me,” Rebecca chimed in, “being a countess comes with vast privileges.”
Gabby cut her gaze to Rebecca. “As does being a duchess.”
Rebecca grinned. “So, it does.”
Rose, who had wholeheartedly disapproved of Sebastian’s choice of a wife, lips tightened.
Joint laughter spilled from Gabby and Rebecca that turned a few heads in their direction.
“My husband is beckoning to me,” Rebecca said.
Gabby’s gaze followed Rebecca’s departure where Sebastian took her hand and led her to the dance floor. She turned back to Rose. “How is Antonia?”
That drew a quick sharp smile from her dour sister. “Miserable.”
“Is Claire here?”
“No. She wasn’t feeling well.”
“You think she’s with child too?” Her sisters would eventually be able to repopulate earth once they got started expelling offspring.
“She hadn’t mentioned as much,” Rose said. For once, her tone held no censure, and surprisingly, no bitterness.
Gabby surveyed the throng, keeping her tone light. “Do you, um, know anything about the Benticks?”
Rose gave a disdainful sniff. “His poor wife. Bentick is a libertine. You stay away from him, Gabriella. Your husband should beat you silly for even asking after such a rogue.”
“Beat me?” Gabby echoed, shocked. She studied her older sister, concern touching her. “Good heavens, Rose. What century do you live in?” She shook her head, pushing away the notion that Stanford would abuse his wife. As proper as Sebastian was, Gabby knew her brother would crush the baron if he learned one of his sisters was being treated thusly.
Rose dropped her voice into something conspiratorial. She leaned toward Gabby. “Well, I did have quite the visit with Lady Bentick, just a day or so ago. I’m quite good friends with her, you know.” Rose glanced around. “Estelle—that’s her name—was just pouring out the tea when Bentick stormed in. His face was absolutely florid.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was flushed so red, I thought he was suffering an apoplexy. I was speechless. I set my cup aside and started to rise, but Estelle said, ‘oh, pay him no mind.’ I suspect his latest doxy gave him his walking papers. I vow if I could do things differently, I would walk the streets rather than marrying that… that profligate.’ Well, you can imagine how disconcerting the situation was. I couldn’t take my leave quick enough. Estelle looked downright murderous.” Rose tipped her head toward the dancers. “Look at him. He’s already so deep in his cups he's doing his best to grab Lady Harlowe. And she’s not even his dance partner. If Lord Harlowe catches sight of him, the man won’t live to see tomorrow.”
Gabby frowned. What a horrid man. “Rose, might I ask you something personal?”
Rose pulled back, her animated expression shifting to shuttered, suspicion even. “What?”
“Has Stanford ever, well, hit you?”
“Of course not. He wouldn’t dare.” Her ducal haughtiness was all it should be as the sister of a duke, just as Gabby knew she herself could project at will. None of her siblings could help themselves. Their attitudes came straight from the top. First, Papa, then Sebastian, and right on down the line. From Rose, to Claire, to Antonia, to Gabby.
“Does he, er, Stanford, have a mistress?” Gabby asked gently.
Her sister bristled. “I told you the other night. You cannot expect men to be monogamous. It isn’t in their nature.” She was downright defensive. In an un-Rose-like move, she clutched Gabby’s hand and squeezed. “Once you accept the inevitable, Gabriella, the easier life is for a woman.”
“Is it easy for you, Rose?”
Blinking rapidly, Rose turned her face away, stunning Gabby with her unprecedented break in emotion. “Of course, it is.” Her response had lost its ducal superiority and she sounded hurt, unsure. But she bounded back fiercely. “Admittedly, I’m irritated. Damned actresses and opera dancers. I suspect they are all quite adventurers in the boudoir. Acrobats. Completely unladylike.”
Stanford? But he’d been so attentive to Rose at the theater the other night, leaving Gabby with a whole other picture regarding her sister’s bitterness. It had never struck Gabby that Rose cared for her husband. But she must, otherwise, she wouldn’t be so hurt.
The rest of Rose’s words sank in. Actress? Opera dancer? Good heavens, it was a wonder Gabby hadn't run into him in that back hall where she’d met Mabel.
Gabby glanced to the dancefloor, narrowing her eyes on Bentick.
Rose caught her. “You stay away from that man, Gabriella. Just being within ten feet of that blackguard is ruinous. Why, Huntley would likely call him out. And then where would you be with Huntley dead?”
