“Your knowledge on this matter is remarkable,” Colin said.
James was equally impressed since few of the women he’d known made any attempt at keeping abreast of current affairs, never mind ones taking place in other parts of the world.
“What can I say?” The lady shrugged. “I like reading the daily papers.”
“And I like knowing I have the most well-informed wife there is,” a man slightly shorter than James but of similar build declared as he sidled up next to Mrs. Hewitt. Handsome, with dark blonde hair and piercing green eyes, he awoke an ugly sensation in James – a gnarly feeling he did not like in the least. Jealousy, quick and forceful, drove its way through him.
“Gentlemen,” Mrs. Hewitt said, “my husband, Mr. George Hewitt.”
This good-looking specimen of masculinity, encased in what appeared to be a trim body, was the man Mrs. Hewitt would go home with. And just like that, James was assailed with the most alarming desire to bury his fist in Mr. Hewitt’s face.
Bloody hell. He needed to get himself away from the pair of them immediately.
2
Wilhelmina did not have to look at Mr. Dale to know he kept his gaze upon her during the rest of the introductions. She could feel the heat of it all the way to her toes. Blood still raced through her veins on account of the innocent contact they’d shared while they strolled. Never before had she been so drawn to a man. And if his flirtatious manner was anything to go by, he’d been drawn to her too.
Not that she would ever have acted upon the attraction. For although she’d encouraged George to enjoy a variety of lovers throughout the years and he’d supported her doing the same, Wilhelmina had never wanted to start an affair. Mostly because she’d feared the repercussion if she were ever found out. As a married woman, taking lovers was not as socially acceptable as it was for the husband, so she’d worried over the harm it might cause to Cynthia.
But there was another deterrent – the one she’d never confided in anyone, not even in George – and that was her absolute repugnance for copulation itself. Her one and only experience had been far from pleasant. It was not something she ever wished to repeat.
Still, she could not deny the physical response Mr. Dale had managed to coax from her body - a body she’d thought incapable of experiencing desire. She met his gaze, so intense it weakened her knees and forced her to clasp hold of George’s arm. What a shame it was that Mr. Dale’s interest in her would soon be forgotten. But with the divorce plan already in motion, it wouldn’t be long before Mr. Dale wanted nothing to do with her. Which was likely for the best.
“Tell me, Mr. Dale,” George said in a manner that instantly put Wilhelmina on edge. A shiver stole through her. “What were you and my wife discussing before I arrived?”
Mr. Dale straightened. “My friends and I were relating our wartime experiences to her.”
“I wasn’t referring to that,” George murmured, “but rather to the turn you took together about the room. Your attention was fixed upon her with great interest.”
“It would have been impolite of me not to pay close attention to what she was saying.”
George chuckled. He drew Wilhelmina closer to his side. “Do you think me a fool, Mr. Dale?”
“Of course not.” Deep lines appeared on Mr. Dale’s brow. His jaw hardened.
“George,” Wilhelmina hissed as she realized his intention. Before coming here tonight, they had agreed that having her flirt with a couple of rakish scoundrels would lend credibility to George’s accusations and witness reports later, but they’d never talked about using respectable gentlemen for their scheme. Indeed, they’d gone to great lengths to hire fake paramours like Mr. Randolph, with whom she’d danced. To help seal her fate the Pennington’s, the only friends of George and Wilhelmina’s acquaintance in whom they’d chosen to place their trust, had set the stage for her downfall.
Good grief, what had she been thinking to allow herself to keep Mr. Dale’s company? She’d known what was underfoot and yet she’d agreed to take a turn of the room with him anyway. Because she’d been charmed and because, for once in her life, she’d wanted to feel the passion she knew could exist between a man and a woman. So she’d stolen a moment for herself and as a result, George must have drawn the wrong conclusion. He probably thought she’d encouraged a scoundrel for the sake of the ploy, when nothing could be further from the truth. Heaven’s, she had to stop George before he said something truly disastrous like—
“Then don’t pretend you have no interest in my wife when it was plain for all to see.”
Wilhelmina gasped.
“Mr. Hewitt,” Mr. Grier clipped, “Mr. Dale is a gentleman through and through and you, sir, are dangerously close to insulting his good name.”
Wilhelmina sensed a brief hesitation in George. She tugged on his arm, desperate to draw him away. Her heart knocked hard against her breast. This wasn’t the plan. Mr. Dale did not deserve to be accused of wrongful behavior. Yet rather than offer the apology she had hoped for, George leaned toward Mr. Dale and smoothly asked, “Do you covet her, by any chance?”
“Good God,” Mr. West sputtered while hot embarrassment swept through Wilhelmina.
Mr. Dale glared at George. “No.”
George grinned and took a step back. “Just as well. Considering everything else I have learned this evening, I doubt she would find the time to fit you in between the rest of her lovers. Isn’t that right, my dear?”
He gripped her upper arm and yanked her closer. Wilhelmina yelped and then George was dragging her off. Mortified, she tripped after her husband who was marching her straight toward the exit. Before they reached it, however, Mr. Randolph gave chase.
As previously instructed, the fellow challenged George in a performance worthy of the Theatre Royal. “She may be your wife, Mr. Hewitt, but you have no right to treat her so roughly.”
George spun toward Mr. Randolph, released Wilhelmina while pulling his arm back, and promptly delivered a blow so hard it sent Mr. Randolph sprawling. Gasps and shocked utterances resounded in the ballroom. The music ceased playing.
