Gabby winced. “My, um, dog. A assure you, she’s neither deranged nor murderous. Quickly, send a note to—no. I have another idea. When will this frock be completed? Might you deliver it to my home tonight? I’ll try it on once more in my sitting room. No one shall be the wiser.”
“That will work, milady. I should have it completed tonight by seven. The madam won’t mind if I bring it. She prides herself on her service,” she said with a small smile.
“Perfect.”
Vella quickly assisted Gabby back into her day dress and Gabby took her leave, subtly noting Mr. Herold’s carriage still parked in the same spot across the cobbled street. She accepted Connor’s help inside her own vehicle. “I believe I’m craving an ice from Gunter’s,” she told him. “Let me out there.”
~~~
Gabby dashed into the house, whipping off her bonnet and tossing it to Diggs. “Is Huntley home?”
“In his library, my lady. He is currently in conference with his man of affairs.”
His words brought her up. She turned slowly, facing him. The effort it took in maintaining control over her voice should afford her a prime part in Drury Lane’s latest production. “With his… er, he is meeting with Mr. Herold?”
“Yes, my lady. Shall I let him know you require an audience?”
Surely, she hadn’t been mistaken. “Um, no. No, that won’t be necessary, Diggs. When did his man of business arrive?”
“Only moments ago, my lady.”
Gabby’s heart pounded and she started her assent to her bedchamber. Confusion warred with apprehension rippled over her. “Thank you, Diggs. Send my maid up, please.”
“Very good, ma’am.”
Once Diggs vacated the foyer, Gabby spun around and tripped back down, tiptoeing down the darkened corridor to her husband’s study, also referred to as Huntley’s library, located at the end of the hall near the back of the house. The door was shut. Listening through the solid oak was impossible. Their words were muffled. The temptation to barge in almost overwhelmed her, but she stifled the urge. The blaring conclusion was that Huntley was having his own wife followed. The notion was unfathomable, but unless her eyes had deceived her, that did appear to have been the case. Again, why—the question begged.
She pushed down the latch—well-oiled and maintained—and with a finger, barely cracked the door.
Huntley was speaking. “Did she see you?”
The cur. She could hardly believe her ears.
“No, sir. She stopped at Gunter’s. I waited until I saw her coming out and headed here before leaving.”
“How the devil did you manage to arrive before her ladyship?”
“I have eyes on the street, my lord. Her carriage arrived a moment ago, I can promise you.” The man did sounded short of breath.
As well he should. Her fists clenched around the reticule at her wrist, but it might as well have been around her neck for all the air she was getting in her constricted lungs.
“Is someone at the door?” her husband asked sharply.
That was more than enough for Gabby, anger blazing over her skin. She hurried to the servants’ staircase and dashed up the stairs to her suite. Fury infused her entire body until she was shaking, adrenaline pumping through her. Fear too. Why should her own husband have her followed? It boggled one’s mind. She slipped silently into her sitting room and fell back against the door, her hand splayed on her chest, her heart beating so fast, she grew lightheaded.
The door in her bedchamber opened, and Brita called out, “Lady Huntley?”
Gabby took a deep breath and held it for half a minute, then let it out slowly. She straightened her spine and poked her head into her bedchamber. “I’m here,” she said. “Help me out of this blasted frock and corset, would you? I think I’m having an attack of the vapors and desire a rest.” Once the words spilled from her, she could hardly tear the pins out of her hair quickly enough.
Perhaps sleep was exactly what she needed.
Twenty
James strode across the massive library to the door. He was almost certain Diggs had latched it shut after ushering Lars in. He pulled it back and peered down the hallway in both directions. With no one about, the sense of relief coursed through him. He didn’t think Gabriella would be very understanding regarding his current conversation.
Withdrawing from the hall, he latched the door, then on impulse, locked it.
“You’re certain she didn’t see you?”
