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“He courted you, didn’t he?” He helped her up to the carriage and then climbed in after her.
“Half-heartedly at best, and he’s married now.”
“Which begs the question: Why he did not leave with the second Mrs. Lochery?”
“One does not wish to speculate,” she said, although she was certain she would hear the gossip whispered in some drawing room or another over the coming days.
“But one will,” he said with a grin.
She couldn’t help but laugh.
“Do you think it was a success?” he asked.
“A great success,” she said, relaxing against the cushioned wall of the carriage.
“We will have to top ourselves for the San Gabriel Mountain Lodge when it opens,” he said.
“Goodness, do not say that,” she said, although secretly she was pleased. The ball had been a triumph, and Guy seemed not only more relaxed than he had in days, but happier.
When their carriage pulled into the drive of their house, they found that Mrs. Jarrett had left the electric light in the entryway on.
Adele cast a glance at her husband. “Maggie will be up and waiting to help me undress. Afterward, you may join me in my room.”
Guy raised a brow. It had been some time since he had visited her bed—the work of the opening tiring them both—but instead of the emphatic yes that she had expected, he said, “I can’t.”
“If you are too tired…”
“I’m going out.”
“Out?” she asked sharply, holding up her hand when Flitch opened the carriage door. The driver swiftly shut it again.
“There’s a card game I’ve been invited to,” Guy said, as though that explained anything.
“A card game? At six o’clock in the morning?”
He shrugged. “These gentlemen are the sort who don’t mind a late night.”
“Guy, you cannot be serious. You have houseguests.”
“I’ll only play a couple of hours, Adele. After all the work of the last months readying the hotel, surely you can’t begrudge me that.”
She absolutely could. Never mind the risk of rumors that Guy took part in unsavory poker games held at inappropriate hours, there was the embarrassment of having propositioned her husband only to be turned down flat.
She lifted her chin, determined not to lower herself by begging. “I suppose you will do what you will.”
Without another word, he climbed out to hand her down. Then he turned to Flitch. “Stay here a moment while I see Mrs. Whitley inside.”
Adele walked stiffly to the front door, which opened just as they mounted the first step.
“Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Whitley,” said Mrs. Jarrett, looking incredibly well-rested for one who had no doubt been awake as long as her employers.
“Thank you, Mrs. Jarrett,” Adele said, studiously ignoring her husband as she pulled away from him. “Did Mr. and Mrs. Benson arrive home safely?”
“They did. I saw to Mrs. Benson myself,” said the housekeeper.
“Adele, dearest, I’m leaving,” said Guy behind her.
She allowed herself a fraction of a second to close her eyes before turning to him, a smile fixed on her face. “Good night.”
