Chapter 21
“Why didn’t you mate her sooner?” Greg asked once they were alone in the carriage.
“Because she’s like her husband. She was a ballerina and needs to show off,” Hermy said. “He just lost against you in the privacy of his home. To really punish them, you have to do it with aplomb.”
Greg leaned back on the bench across from Hermy. “You’re brilliant, do you know that?”
Hermy sighed. “I’m afraid I sacrificed our wedding for the cause.”
“How?”
“Greg, don’t you remember what they said about me? About us?” She leaned forward, and he smelled her fresh, soapy rose scent mixed with peach and something else sweet.
His eyes dropped to her lips. So sweet. “I remember everything.” He didn’t mean the gossip, that was just speculation. What he remembered was the act that fueled the speculation, and he knew the truth: the scandal wasn’t that he’d compromised Hermy, but how terribly unimaginative the Ton had been in crafting their story. Compromising Hermy had been so much more spectacular.
Greg knew if he went home with Hermy now, he’d either have to lock himself in his chambers, or her. Neither was a safe nor appealing option.
“Let’s go fencing.”
“At nine o’clock at night?” Hermy asked.
“It’s not nine yet.” He reached for his pocket watch and flipped it open. “Ten more minutes. And it’s hardly night.”
It only took another minute or two to reach Green Park and Greg pulled up at the Pearlers’.
“I wasn’t invited. It’s too late. I cannot impose,” Hermy protested in vain when Greg wrapped his hands around her narrow waist and lifted her off the carriage.
“You must impose because you need a chaperone tonight.” His mouth came so close to hers that the air crackled with anticipation of the contact. But Greg knew, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough to merely kiss her.
And Hermy remained silent, followed him up the stairs, and once the butler opened the door, they stepped into the house.