The Ideal Wife(71)

“Eh?” Sir Gerald frowned at him. “You mean did I try to flirt with her? What do you take me for, Miles? She is your wife. Besides, I have Priss. No, actually I don’t, do I? Devil take it, I could kill that swain of hers with my bare hands. He had better treat her right, that is all I can say. He had better not once—even once—throw in her face the fact that she was a whore. I’ll kill him and carve him into little pieces.”

“Good Lord,” the earl said impatiently, “when are you going to admit that you are in love with the girl, Ger? But haven’t you gone off the point?”

“Devil take it,” Sir Gerald said, striding along the pavement in the direction set by the earl. “Lady Severn prattled on for all the world as if someone had told her that she had to do all her talking in the next half-hour and remain silent forever after. And then she put me in the deuce of a dilemma. I shouldn’t have even started saying this to you.”

“But you did,” the earl said dryly. “You had better finish now.”

“Look,” Sir Gerald said, “I may be far wide of the mark, Miles. There may be a perfectly decent explanation. Perhaps she wants to buy you a special gift without your suspecting, in which case I am spoiling things for her. Or maybe you are closefisted with her and she wants something for herself. I don’t know. I never thought of you as miserly, but one never knows what goes on between a man and his wife. You bought her all those clothes and jewels, of course.”

“Gerald.” The earl stopped walking again. “You are beginning to sound remarkably like Abby. Would you care to get to the point sometime this morning, since there is a picnic to attend this afternoon?”

“I think she must have lost a pile at Mrs. Harper’s,” Sir Gerald said. “I think she must have, Miles, and is too afraid to come to you. She asked me if she could borrow fifteen hundred pounds. She told me she could not pay it back for a year but would pay me faithfully and in full one year from now. She asked me not to say anything to you. I don’t know if she noticed that I avoided promising.”

“Fifteen hundred pounds.” Lord Severn stared at his friend without moving. “Just like that she asked for that much money? Did she give any reason?”

“I believe she gave about six,” Sir Gerald said, “but by that time her jabbering had become somewhat incomprehensible. There was even something about Christmas presents, if I am not mistaken. I’m not sure if she was referring to last Christmas or next. She has been gambling, Miles, take my word on it. And I don’t say that out of spite. It is the only explanation that fits.”

“Or her brother has been gambling and losing,” the earl said. “To the tune of seven and a half thousand pounds—or more like seven, I suppose. She bought me that pin.”

Sir Gerald took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair again. “She has already had money from you?” he said. “Devil take it, Miles, why did I have to get caught in the middle of this? I feel like a villain telling you, but I can’t stand by and let my friend’s wife get in deep like this without trying to warn him. She needs taking in hand—and keep your fists at your sides, please. I am in earnest.”

“Ger.” The earl rubbed at his jaw with one hand. “I need to be alone. I have to think this out. Her brother will be at the picnic this afternoon. Maybe I will talk to him first before tackling Abby. I’ll see you later.”

“Lord,” Sir Gerald said, “I don’t know if I have done the right thing. Priss would have known. But she isn’t here.”

“One thing,” Lord Severn said. “Did you agree to give her the money, Ger?”

“I would have,” Sir Gerald said, “but she went rushing away before I had given her my answer. There was no apparent reason—there was no one coming, nobody much in sight. But she just turned without a word and went hurrying away, right through the middle of a puddle. I think maybe it was that, Miles. I mean, I think she wants help. Not only needs, but wants, but doesn’t quite know where to turn. You haven’t been harsh with her, have you?”

“Nothing beyond beating her every morning,” the earl said irritably. “I’ll see you later, Ger.”

And he strode away while his friend watched him out of sight with troubled eyes.

It was the brother. Boris. It had to be, the earl decided. But seven thousand pounds to pay off his gambling debts just so that he could keep playing in the hope of winning enough to pay off their father’s debts? They were insane, the pair of them.