“Good, aren’t they?” Gillian asked hoarsely, and plucked the remainder of the strawberry from between his teeth.
“What is that you are reading so attentively?” Noble inquired some minutes later, when he had managed to wrest control of his mind away from the demands of his body.
“It’s an absolutely fascinating pamphlet I bought off a man in the square this morning when I was strolling with Piddle and Erp. It’s called Celestial Stimulation of the Organs, and it explains how one might, by using special Oils of Araby and balmy, ethereal essences, restore elasticity and good health to those who are suffering from bad humors.”
Noble, keeping his eyes carefully averted as she reached for another strawberry, asked if she were feeling ill.
“No, but you are.”
He looked up at her statement.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you were most restless last night, husband. And this morning, when I asked you why you were looking so peculiar and disgruntled, you said you had a pain in your head. All signs, according to Dr. Graham’s helpful pamphlet, that your organs need attention.”
Noble thought back to the night of torment he had endured, a self-imposed night of torment borne of his desire to show his wife that he was more than just a lustful beast who valued his own urges more than his wife’s need to rest.
“I am quite well, I assure you, madam,” he said, lying through his teeth. He was a lustful beast. He wanted her, needed her, had to have her. That very moment. “My organs have no need of stimulation, celestial or otherwise. I do, however, believe that we did not finish our discussion about the proper way of organizing and structuring your life.”
Gillian looked surprised. “Would that be the lecture you delivered last evening?”
“It would. You looked tired, so I postponed the balance of the discussion until today.”
Gillian sighed. Dabbing at her mouth, she sat back in her chair with her hands folded demurely on her lap. “Very well, Noble, if it will make you happy, you may lecture me now.”
“Thank you. Now, as to—”
“It comes as news to me, of course, to find out my life is unorganized and unstructured.”
“You may be assured it is, my dear. As for last evening’s events—”
“Active, perhaps, or full of those marvelous little surprises that life always seems to offer, yes, I can see that, but unorganized and unstructured?”
“It is. How else do you explain that?” He waved toward her blue hands.
She considered her hands. “Curiosity?”
“Curiosity, lady wife, when held unchecked by common sense and rational thought, is nothing more than chaos. And as we have discussed at length, a chaotic lifestyle is not one that is conducive to a happy home.”
“But, Noble—”
He ignored her protests and spent fifteen minutes explaining again the importance of control and order in one’s life. He paced back and forth before the sideboard, his stride lengthening as he gesticulated when making particular points. He waxed eloquent as he presented both arguments and examples for her edification. He was pleased to see he had her full attention. Her eyes never left him as he offered her rational and valid reasons why she would learn to suit her life to his, and how happy their lives together would be once that seemingly monumental task had been accomplished.
“Now, my dear,” he finished, pulling out his pocket watch and consulting it, “I must keep an appointment, but before I go I will hear your plans for the day.”
“Hmm?” she asked dreamily, her gaze still intent on him.
“Your plans, madam.”
“Have you ever thought of wearing colors, Noble? Perhaps just a colored waistcoat? Not that you don’t look elegantly delicious in black, but I thought perhaps you might like, once in a while, to don a bit of color.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “What has my method of dress to do with your plans for the day?”
She widened her eyes in response. “Why, nothing. I just asked a question. Oh, never mind, it doesn’t matter. My plans for today — well, I believe Charlotte is coming to help me with ideas for the drawing room you said I might redecorate. And we plan on making a call to a…an acquaintance. And then I thought I would take Nick to Regent’s Park to see the zoological gardens. Would you like to accompany us?”
“No, thank you, I have my own schedule to attend to. Very well, my dear, I hope you keep the precepts we have been discussing in mind as you go about your day.”
“Precepts?” She blinked at him.
“Yes, those that we’ve just spent the morning discussing. I will escort you to the Gayfields’ rout tonight if I am able; if not, I will send Harry or Sir Hugh and meet you there later.”
“But Noble, where—”
He was out the door before she could finish asking him about his plans for the day. And what precepts had they just discussed? Perhaps she should have been paying attention to what he was saying rather than woolgathering, but she couldn’t help it. Whenever he started in on his pet lecture, which she seemed to have already heard as many days as she had been married, her mind wandered.
She really would have to watch that habit; it was not a wise one to indulge in around the Lord of Kisses. He had enough ways of distracting her from her goal without her helping him by not paying attention to what he was saying.
Noble settled back into an armchair in Boodle’s and waved away the attendant. “Good morning, Harry. You look pleased with yourself. May I assume from that expression that you’ve had some luck?”
“Alas, not the luck you seek, my friend.” Lord Rosse proffered a silver cigar case to the Black Earl. “But something interesting, nonetheless. Did you know that Mariah has disappeared?”
Noble paused for a moment in the act of lighting his cigar. “I had some suspicion she had, since she vacated the premises of the house in Kensington so quickly. Her sister has no idea where she’s gone to ground?”
“None. She’s quite worried about her, as a matter of fact. Ah, Tolly, I thought we’d see you sooner or later. Come and join us.”
Sir Hugh had another chair placed in a manner that would allow him to keep an eye on all who passed, and seated himself with a great show of care for his peach satin waistcoat and taffycolored coat. “Rosse, Weston. I wondered if you would take advantage of your good fortune, Weston.”
“What good fortune is that?” Noble puffed gently on his cigar and tried not to look bored.
“Why, the sudden reversal of opinion, of course! You and your Amazon are the talk of the ton! Surely even you must have heard the talk, Noble. Everyone is talking about the kiss.”
Noble arched one sable eyebrow. “The kiss? What kiss?”
Rosse smiled as Sir Hugh adjusted his intricately tied cravat an infinitesimal bit to the right. “Must think of letting old Hudson go. He’s not as sharp with the Russian Waterfall as he should be. The kiss, man. The one she gave you in front of everyone at Countess Lieven’s last night!”
Noble gave in to the urge and looked bored. “I find it difficult to believe that my wife demonstrating a spontaneous burst of affection for me can cause such a scandal, Tolly.”
A spasm of distaste passed over the baronet’s face. “That’s where you have come up lucky. Her action, rash and indelicate though it might have been, has deemed her…has deemed you both…the toast of the Season. All the world loves a lover and all that.”
Rosse laughed at the look of chagrin on the earl’s face. “Now there’s a role I never thought you to be in, Noble. The passionate lover, unable to keep from your wife’s arms for the length of an evening.”