A dull red flush washed over her husband’s face at her words.
“I wish to discuss what happened last night, if I might. I am not sure I understand…”
“Dickon, you may leave that,” Noble ordered, a frown playing across his manly brow. Gillian watched as the footman placed a fresh platter of sirloin before the earl, then left them alone again.
“I would rather you did not discuss our…er…evening activities in front of the servants, my dear. Now, as to your questions, I’m sure you have several about what we did last evening, it being…uh…new to you. I’m sure you were as surprised by your actions as I was, stimulating and enjoyable though they were.”
“Well, I’m not as new to it as you might think,” she interrupted, and heaped a spoon of marmalade on her toasted bread. “I have done it before, you know.”
Noble felt as if someone had slapped him in the face with a wet fish. A salmon, perhaps. Or a very large flounder. He gaped at her. “I beg your pardon? Did you just say you had done it before?”
“Oh yes, once or twice. My uncle used to say I was a particularly wicked girl to do so, but I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes I just had to, you know. It feels so different, so…so…oh, I don’t know how to describe it. I suppose I didn’t have to, as you well know the feeling.”
Noble’s face grew as black as a thundercloud and he seemed to be having difficulty swallowing. “I do indeed know, although I had not thought that my wife would come to our marriage bed in possession of such knowledge!”
What on earth had gotten into the Lord of Fury? “Well, really, Noble, I know it’s not proper, but I wasn’t aware that it would be something that so upset you. I shan’t do it again, of course, since you are so unhappy about it.”
“I should hope not!” Noble thundered, ignoring the memory of the utter bliss her mouth had given him. “I will have names, Gillian, names of the men with whom you have disported yourself in such a fashion.”
Gillian looked at him in surprise. “Names of men? I never did it with men, Noble.”
He dropped his fork and shook his head. He wasn’t hearing her correctly, that was the problem. Perhaps he had water in his ears. Perhaps he was having a hallucination. Perhaps he was having the most realistic nightmare of his life. The thought that his wife, his lovely innocent Gillian, had engaged in oral acts with another man was enough to make his blood boil. To think that she had done so with a woman — it was inconceivable. He shook his head again and took a deep, deep breath.
“Gillian—”
“In truth, husband, I wasn’t with anyone in particular when I did it. I just wanted to see how it felt, you see, and, well…” She shrugged. “Since they were available, I took the opportunity.”
“They? They were available? As in more than one?”
“Well, yes, Noble. You don’t think I’d go about with just one, now do you?”
Madness. This was sheer madness. That must be the explanation. He’d gone mad and he just hadn’t noticed that fact.
“You don’t think I would have wanted to appear indecent?”
He tried to formulate words, but his brain failed him. He just sat and stared as his wife calmly ate her breakfast and informed him that she’d had relations of a sexual nature with more than one woman in order not to appear indecent. Madness. Or hell. He could be dead and this could be hell. Either explanation would suffice.
“So when the opportunity came up to do it again last night, I couldn’t resist. But I did do it properly, I hope you noticed.”
Noble’s mind ceased to function. He blinked a few times. Oh, he had noticed. She had done it more than properly; she had driven him past the point of his control within a few seconds of touching him. The fire she had started with her lips and tongue was still burning deep within him, melting layers of ice he hadn’t known existed.
“And, of course, I had Nick with me, so that was all right.”
His mind snapped back to attention. “What?”
“I had Nick with me.”
A suspicion slowly began to materialize. “Gillian, of what, exactly, are you speaking?”
She frowned at him as she reached for another slice of sirloin. “Of going out to rescue you last night. In the boots’ clothes.”
The boots’ clothes. She was talking about wearing the boy’s clothes, and he had thought she had meant…a wave of relief washed over him, making him chuckle at his own foolish thoughts. Foolish, silly, couldn’t happen, wouldn’t happen sorts of thoughts.
“You’re not angry with me still, are you?”
He was, but his relief was so great that he decided to be magnanimous. He spent a little time lecturing her on the magnitude of his generosity in forgiving her transgressions.
Gillian tolerated the lecture with as much good grace as she could muster, then decided to take advantage of the sudden change in mood of the Lord of Chuckles and ask him what was uppermost on her mind.
“Who would want to do you harm, Noble?”
He pushed back his plate and frowned at her. “That is no concern of yours, my dear, except insomuch as you can be assured I will see to your protection.”
“Me?” Gillian looked in surprise at her frowning husband. Why was he concerned about her when he was clearly the victim of a nefarious plot? “It wasn’t me who was struck on the head and stripped—”
“Yes, yes, we both know what happened. Regardless, it should not concern you. I will see to it that it won’t happen again. For your own safety, I will ask Crouch to accompany you when you go out. What are your plans for today?”
“But, Noble, if you’d just let me help you, I’m sure that together we can determine who—”
“Your help is appreciated but not needed,” he said firmly, then cocked an insolent eyebrow at her. Really, he was so maddening. If he would just see that she could help him, that he needed her…she sighed and answered his earlier question. “I had planned to call on Charlotte, my lord, and perhaps visit Lackington’s bookshop. I trust that meets with your approval?”
He nodded. “As long as you take Crouch with you.” He stood, then tapped on the table for a moment as he pondered something. “Yes, Crouch and one of the footmen; they ought to be sufficient. Regarding this evening, I have accepted an invitation to the Countess Lieven’s ball. Do you plan on attending as well?”
Gillian blinked at him. He couldn’t mean that he had no plans to see her throughout the day, could he? And worse yet, that he would go to a ball, their first ball since they had been married, without her? And an important ball, one held by the infamous Countess Lieven! No, he couldn’t mean that, surely he wasn’t that cold and unfeeling. Not the man who had, just a few hours before, swept her up in his warmth and sent her spirit flying in one of the most sensual experiences of her life. No. Not her Noble.
She smiled. “I would be happy to attend the ball with you, Noble.”
“Excellent. I shall see you there later, then.” He started for the door, pausing when he reached it. “I will be out this evening, my dear. I’m sure your aunt and uncle will be attending the ball and would be happy to escort you there. I will, of course, accompany you home should you desire it.”
Should she desire it? Should she desire the company home of her very own husband of three days? From her first public appearance as his countess? Gillian stared at him, stunned and hurt by his coldness. Tears pricked her eyes. How could he be this way? How could he be so unfeeling toward her when he had been so warm and wonderful that morning?
Noble nodded as if she had answered and left the sunny breakfast room. Gillian, her high spirits suddenly channeled into fury, threw her fork across the room and watched as it bounced off the cheerful yellow-and-white-striped wallpaper and onto the floor. “If I would desire him to accompany me home! Ooooh! I’ll…I’ll…oh!” She slapped her hand on the table, unable to think of anything horrible enough to satisfy her anger, then picked up her plate and threw it at Noble’s chair. Eggs, sirloin, marmalade, and the remnants of kippers dripped down the front of the ornately embroidered yellow material. Her spirits rose at the sight of it. Noble thought he could cut her out of his life, did he? She eyed a dish of oatmeal speculatively.