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Taking advantage of the Lord of Bliss’s unexpected acquiescence, Gillian explored her husband’s face to her satisfaction. She looked up once, when the hack bumped across a hole in the road, to find her stepson’s bright eyes watching her.

What had Nick thought when he saw his father powerless, his vulnerability — among other things — exposed? It had to be a felling blow to a boy who worshipped his father, but he didn’t express any emotion or misbehave in an attempt to garner attention, as Gillian’s brothers always had. He simply watched them with an uncanny silence and an expressionless face. Gillian suddenly felt a chilling sense of sadness for her two men — Noble was trying so hard to deny his need for affection, and his son was following his path to self-control and denial. If she didn’t step in and put an end to the intolerable situation, soon it would be too late and both would be lost to her. Gillian’s fingers tightened around a fistful of Noble’s hair. She had no intention of letting that happen.

A soft snore drew her attention down to the smooth lines of her husband’s face. An unaccountable pricking behind her eyes surprised her; Noble looked so young, so untroubled as he slept resting against her. A fierce wave of possessiveness washed over her as she watched him sleep. Mine, she thought. He’s mine and I won’t let anyone hurt him again — either of them, she amended, glancing across the carriage to where Nick leaned in the corner, his eyes closed. A fire burned in her breast as she made a vow on the happiness of those most dear to her. If Noble wanted an uncomplicated, structured life, he would have one. From that moment on, Gillian was going to ensure that her lord was going to be happier than he thought possible. Their life was going to be one of peace and serenity, or by God, she’d know the reason why.

CHAPTER FIVE

Their life was pandemonium and turmoil. Gillian’s determination for a quiescent life flew out the window with a rare Chinese vase. Unfortunately, the window was closed at the time the vase was sent on its way; even more unfortunately, the hired hack had just pulled up before Noble’s town house when the delicate china hit the cobblestones before them and exploded with a noise that startled the horse into rearing and almost tipping the carriage.

Gillian and Nick clutched the squabs as the driver calmed the horse and the hack settled back onto its wheels. Gillian said a little prayer that Noble did not wake up when, just as the driver was climbing down from his perch, the door to the house opened and several men spilled out onto the sidewalk, screaming and pummeling one another. Gillian shifted Noble’s head slightly to get a better look at the sight of the two butlers trying to throttle each other. As Crouch was a good foot and a half taller and several stone heavier than him, Tremayne Two wasn’t having much luck getting a firm grip on his associate’s neck.

Dancing around the pair was the small round form of Devereaux, who was evidently championing Crouch as he urged the pirate on to further violence. Gillian made a mental note to have a word with Devereaux about his proclivity to brutality, and pulled Nick back from where he was in danger of falling out of the hack’s window.

Behind Tremayne Two was another Tremayne, attempting to pull his brother from the giant by means of what appeared to be a fire iron. But Two stuck to the man like a burr to a particularly hairy Shetland pony. A roar ripped through the night, and the third Tremayne — One or Three, Gillian wasn’t sure which — suddenly leaped from the top of the steps and flung himself onto the grappling men. The mate to the shattered window opened and two housemaids leaned out to yell advice as the clutch of four men swayed, then fell to the ground and rolled around like a pack of demented hedgehogs, arms and legs bristling everywhere as the foursome tried to tear each other apart.

Things quickly deteriorated after that.

The three Tremaynes stopped trying to kill one another only after Noble leaped from the hack, roaring his displeasure at the foursome. Gillian wasn’t sure if it was the volume and impressive string of invectives that sprang from Noble’s lips or whether it was the sight of their huge, scowling employer clad in a white bedsheet that affected the men. She suspected from the stunned looks and open mouths that it was the latter but had no chance to verify her suspicion before Noble, with a powerful flick of his wrists, tossed a few of his employees aside, then stalked stiffly into the house.

“I do believe it was the bedsheet after all,” she mused some two hours later as she sat propped up in her husband’s bed, watching him pace the floor before the fireplace. “Crouch commented on how lovely the bow at your shoulder was, while Tremaynes Two and Three just stared at you as if you had suddenly sprouted toadstools on your head.”

Her words had an immediate effect. He stopped in mid-pace, spun around to face her, and gave her a look that would do Medusa proud. Gillian cautiously moved her legs to make sure they hadn’t been turned to stone. “On the other hand, both Tremayne One — at least I think it was One, it is so difficult to tell them apart, perhaps we can affix upon them some sort of identifying mark — both Tremayne One and Mr. Devereaux seemed to take your unconventional apparel in the best of spirits.”

Noble’s admirable body stiffened. The pulse beating wildly in the side of his neck was clearly visible from across his bedchamber. It was shameful, Gillian chastised herself. The poor man had been through a terrible evening, and she was clearly not doing her duty by offering solace and comfort. It was, after all, her job to help him relax so he could forget his troubles and enjoy his tranquil and serene home. Gillian blinked back a tender tear at the thought of his travails, and proceeded to buoy his foul mood.

“When I say good spirits, my dear, I do not mean they were laughing at you,” she reassured him. If possible, his silence and accompanying scowl grew even stonier. “Although I must admit they were laughing, but I’m sure it was not at you, but rather with you, if you see what I mean.”

It was obvious he didn’t share her perceptions. It was also evident that at that moment he was hard put to keep from strangling her. Since she wanted to have more than just one night of wedded bliss, Gillian decided not to press the point further. She would ask him in the morning, once he possessed a less belligerent attitude, who wished him ill. He would no doubt be happy she was so interested in his well-being and would, despite his earlier statement, be forthcoming with the whos and whys that so consumed her with curiosity. She smiled sweetly at the choked, guttural noises Noble was making in response to her buoying attempt. He was obviously overcome with gratitude for her tender solicitation.

“Madam.” Noble finally got his jaw unclenched long enough to speak. “You will have the decency to never mention the blasted bedsheet within my hearing! For that matter, you will not, under any provocation, refer to this evening again. You will forget about the entire day. Cast it from your thoughts. Wipe it from your memory. I do not wish to ever again be reminded of the humiliating events that have made up one of the most miserable days of my blighted existence.”