handle of the silver teapot and poured the aromatic liquid into a Sèvres cup. She had seen the white Sèvres tea set before with its gilding and its bucolic scene of a young man gazing adoringly at his lover. What she hadn’t seen before was the oval straight-sided silver teapot with the swan-head spout that was engraved with Napoleon’s imperial coat of arms.
‘This is a new acquisition. I’ve lost count of how many items of his you own. Are you determined to collect all of his possessions?’ she asked, placing the teapot back on the tray.
‘That little man thought he could conquer the world—that he could best me. Well, I showed him. I defeated him and now I get to enjoy the things he held dear.’ He popped a piece of marzipan into his mouth.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘You never sent word about the painting. Did you go to purchase it? I hope you did not encounter any trouble.’
There was a hesitation to his movements. ‘It went well. I am deciding where to hang it. I still do not understand why he would not loan it to you so you could show it to me while I decided if I wanted to purchase it.’
‘I imagine he was concerned he would not receive payment and the artwork would remain here.’
He gave a careless snort. ‘Why don’t you tell me what I have been missing?’
‘There is not much to tell. I’ve come from the Royal Academy where Mr West has asked me to assist him in determining the placement of works for the latest exhibition. I hope you will be feeling better by the time it opens. The works are quite moving. And, if you were planning on attending the Nettlefords’ ball, I understand they will be serving lobster cakes. That alone should tempt you enough to leave this house.’
Prinny’s hand stilled over the treats, and he cleared his throat. ‘I hope to be...feeling right as rain by then,’ he mumbled.
Evidently the prince was feeling better, since he was eating the marzipan as if it were his last meal. Perhaps she should have brought him a smaller selection. Eating that many pieces in rapid succession could not be good for one’s digestion.
‘I’m glad you’re enjoying the marzipan.’
Prinny looked down as if he hadn’t realised he had eaten nearly the entire basket and held it out to her. ‘Would you care for one?’
She selected the smallest piece. ‘I assume you will be well enough to attend the opening of Douglas at Drury Lane. They say Mrs Siddons will be returning to the stage.’
Prinny’s smile dropped. ‘I hope so.’
‘Then I look forward to seeing you there. I assume you will not bar me from your box,’ she teased.
He smiled affectionately at her. ‘I would never do such a thing to you.’
‘I have the notion that a small stroll would serve you well, since you did finish that entire basket of marzipan. What say you we take some air in your gardens?’
Prinny’s eyes darted from Olivia, to the guard by the door, and back to Olivia again. ‘I suppose one short stroll outside could do no harm.’
Gabriel had arrived home from Parliament and been sitting at his desk, staring at his only clue for what felt like hours. Something about the handwriting on the note found on the gunman tickled his brain, but he could not for the life of him determine what it was. Hopefully a quiet evening at home would lift his spirits.
* * *
By the time he emerged from his rooms dressed for dinner, he was looking forward to a pleasant meal and another night in his wife’s bed. From the staircase landing, his gaze travelled down and settled on Olivia, who was speaking with Bennett in the entrance hall.
Her shiny dark hair was swept up, exposing the creamy skin of her neck and graceful shoulders. Her gown was the colour of irises and her arms were visible through the long semi-opaque sleeves. As she turned towards the staircase, the diamonds around her neck sparkled in the candlelight and Gabriel was blessed with a delicious view of the upper curves of her breasts. His lips rose, knowing he would have her all to himself for the entire evening.
Then he spied the wrap Bennett was holding out for her. As he dashed down the stairs, she spotted him.
‘Where are you off to?’ he asked without even offering her a greeting.
She dismissed Bennett with a slight nod and their butler disappeared down the hall. ‘I am going to Vauxhall to meet friends for dinner and to see a performance of Madame Saqui.’
Was he acquainted with these friends? Deciding she looked much too enticing to be strolling about Vauxhall without him, he pulled the sides of her wrap together over her breasts. The fabric was warm and soft, and reminded him of her skin. To stop himself from touching her, he held onto the edges of her wrap.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, looking down at his hands.
‘Making certain you do not catch a chill.’
She narrowed her eyes, but did not push his hands away. ‘That is very considerate of you. I suppose this concern has nothing to do with any late-night activities you are anticipating.’
‘I have no notion of which activities you are speaking of,’ he replied with what he hoped was an innocent expression. ‘You look quite beautiful this evening.’
Her body stiffened. ‘Thank you,’ she replied, backing away from him so he was forced to release her wrap.
Had he offended her? He had not intended to. ‘It is a cool evening. I shall inform your coachman to place a warm brick in your carriage.’
‘Comte Janvier has kindly offer to take me in his carriage, so there is no need to concern yourself.’
Every nerve in Gabriel’s body snapped to attention. Her phrasing could not have been worse. ‘He is to be your escort for the evening?’ he asked, raising his chin.
‘Yes, he was invited as well and offered to accompany me weeks ago.’
‘Well, I believe I shall wait with you and greet the Comte when he arrives.’
‘There is no need. You should go about your affairs.’ She walked away from him to the gilded mirror next to the door and adjusted her hair.
‘Dinner and a good book await me this evening. I am in no hurry.’ Not wanting her to witness his jealousy, he turned away and met the condescending gaze of his great-grandfather, staring down at him from a life-sized portrait of the man on horseback. Gabriel wanted to tell him to mind his own business. It was quite evident he was behaving like an overly protective bore, but she was his wife. His. He simply needed to be certain that Comte Janvier understood that.
A knock echoed through the marble hall and drew Gabriel’s attention to the front door. As he adjusted his cuffs, soft footsteps filled the hall, announcing Bennett’s arrival before he appeared.
‘You can leave now, Gabriel. I am certain that is Janvier and Bennett can manage the door.’ She addressed his reflection in the mirror and
