James shuddered, as he, of course, could recall every horrifying second.
The park was busy with an abundance of visitors, mostly of the upper echelon. “I see the constables are busy turning away the lower classes,” Kimpton threw out. It appeared his friends were doing their best to lighten the sudden heaviness in the air.
“Just from this area,” Harlowe said. “The throng of London are lining the streets outside the park.”
“It’s a shame they couldn’t restrain some of the more well-known rakehells.” Disgust colored Brock’s voice. Utter contempt.
Harlowe’s fists tightened. “Hell, Shufflebottom’s going right for our wives.”
“Calm down, Brock.” Kimpton was decidedly serene. “You know the man is nothing but a harmless popinjay.”
But James sided with Brock in this matter and stuffed the urge to storm over and punch Shufflebottom in his straight and pompous nose into oblivion. Which was much too tempting, he thought, turning away. He trusted Gabriella to yell her head off if the man stepped out of line.
Kimpton’s frown was thoughtful. “What reason would this Miss Groves have to kill a peer?”
“One reason might be that she was carrying his child,” James said grimly. “And she apparently wasn’t the only one.”
Forty-Four
Gabby was so flustered by Shufflebottom’s sudden appearance, Lady Macbeth’s lead slipped from her fingers. She took off for parts unknown, startling Gabby from her stupor. She caught a glimpse of Lady Macbeth heading in the direction of the Serpentine. After chasing her for five minutes, she pulled up, heaving harshly, certain every eye from the ton was on her unseemly behavior. Frustrated, she stomped her foot. “Lady Macbeth, blast it. You come back here, right this minute.”
“Perhaps I can be at your service, Lady Huntley.”
Stifling a groan, Gabby stole a look at the marquis. Shufflebottom wore so many ruffles, she could hardly discern where his cravat differentiated from his shirt at the top of his chartreuse waistcoat. “I’m sure that’s unnecessary, sir.”
“It is still my grandest wish. We would do well together. No messy complications as it were.”
Did the man never give up? She stopped and flat-out faced him. “Have you met my husband, Lord Shufflebottom? If you so much as touch me, you are a dead man.”
Lady Macbeth darted along the edge of some shrubbery in the distance. “Blast,” she said again.
He didn’t hesitate, grabbing her by her hand and pulling her quickly along. “Fast little bug—er, mongrel, isn’t it?”
“She,” Gabby huffed out in a breathless rasp. “My dog is a female. And, queenly, at that.”
Shufflebottom’s notoriety for scandal was not something she relished being any part of whatever scheme he had up his ruffled sleeve. She wasn’t worried over her husband believing this buffoon meant a thing to her. Huntley loved her. But Shufflebottom liked nothing more than to stir up trouble with his bothersome antics.
Shufflebottom pulled up on the banks of the Serpentine and bowed his head in a respectful manner. “Of course. My apologies. She is quite fast, isn’t she? Does she have a name?” He wasn’t even out of breath, blackguard.
Gabby tried to decide if he was being sarcastic at her expense, but she eventually answered. “Macbeth. Lady Macbeth.”
“Fascinating name,” he murmured, leaning in indecently close. “Is it—er, she deranged and murderous?”
She yanked her hand from his and jumped back. “She is a dog, sir. Very sweet and loyal,” she said in her most ducal imitation of Sebastian at his haughtiest.
“Of course, my dear. Here pup. Here pup.”
If Gabby wasn’t so angry, she would have laughed. She shuddered, relief coursing through her. Her instincts must have been in the privy thinking she would test her sexuality with such a blatant libertine because she’d been angry with her husband when he’d disappeared when she’d believed he’d deserted her. She couldn’t imagine doing the unspeakable things Huntley had taken to showing her with anyone but her husband.
“It was rumored, my lady, that you had taken a shine to me. I keep hoping to remedy the situation.” He leaned in. “Perhaps with just a kiss to see if we suit.”
Again, she jumped back, appalled and her face flaming. “You really can’t believe I would humiliate my husband over someone like you?”
He shrugged, unrepenting in the insults he continued to sling her way. “’Tis my belief, women who are not satisfied are prime for my offerings.”
Fury tore through her. “Why, you insufferable dolt.”
He stepped towards her, and Lady Macbeth snapped at him, baring sharp little teeth.
