As they entered, Gabriel heard the sound of the French doors closing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amanda slipping into the garden.
So did Stratton, who eyed the doors while a small frown formed.
Stratton’s frown cleared suddenly. “That was the woman in Lady Farnsworth’s box at the theater. Miss Waverly.”
“She called.”
“Yet you left her while you rode about town. I think she did not call today, but woke here this morning.”
“So much for my campaign to learn discretion.”
Stratton looked at the doors again. “Why did you not just use that house you let? Discretion was the whole reason for doing so.”
Because there would not be enough servants to watch her. Because it was not clear she would agree to the real reason it was let. Because living there would be inconvenient. “Yes, well, one thing led to another.” He shrugged.
“I will take my leave so it can lead to another thing once more, now that you have returned.” Instead of actually leaving, however, Stratton gave the French door another long look.
“Clara mentioned Miss Waverly left her situation,” he said. “Is that true? I suppose if she is here today and not with Lady Farnsworth it must be. So you not only seduced her, you lured her away from her situation so she could cavort with you. Are you mad?”
“In a manner of speaking, are we not all mad when we pursue women?”
“How philosophical.”
“Nor did I lure her away. That had nothing to do with me.”
“Convince Lady Farnsworth of that. She will gut you with her pen if she learns of this.”
“Which she will not unless you confide in your wife, in which case I will gut you.”
Stratton was too busy thinking to even hear the threat. “Is she living here? If you left this morning, I think so. I can’t see her waking alone in this house unless she is a houseguest.” He gave Gabriel a severe frown. “Badly done, Langford.”
Gabriel aimed for the decanters. He poured himself a brandy. “I should have barred the door to you when I saw you outside. Why the hell are you not at home, admiring your son?”
“I was sent on a mission by Clara.”
“To me? Whatever for?”
“She would like to speak with you. She thinks you do not care for her and would decline if she wrote and requested you call on her, so she sent me to persuade you.”
“I do not know why she thinks I do not care for her. She does not approve of me, but I am accustomed to that and do not hold it against people.”
“So you will call on her.”
“I suppose so, when I can. What does she want to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“You tell her everything that enters your mind, but she keeps secrets?”
“I do not tell her every—say, do you think she knows about your houseguest?”
It was a notion Gabriel could do without Stratton putting in his head. “I can’t imagine how she would know.” Someone might have seen Amanda in one of his carriages in the morning, visiting that mail drop. Other than that, there should be no clue.
Stratton crossed his arms and pondered the matter. “Why not tell her? Bring Miss Waverly when you call. Clara is liberal minded in the extreme on the question of single women having lovers, so she will not disapprove on principle at least.”
“Meaning she will object only to the particulars, such as the lover being me.”
“Possibly.”
