Free Brandywine: Regency historical romance (The Brocade Series, Book 1) by Jackie Ivie Page B

time.”
    “Good choice. Riggs, you heard the man.”
    Gil’s manservant bowed before leaving to obey, but he made it a point to walk past Sir Gerard. The man had such shifty eyes, one had to watch the silver around him.
    “You haven’t had a change of heart?” Reg asked.
    “About Bingham? Let him rot,” Gil replied.
    “About your wife. I don’t think you’ve attended to one thing I’ve said, and look at me. Awash with curiosity.”
    “Not to mention suffering through your dear mother’s interrogations.”
    Reg coughed behind his hand, but his eyes danced. “You could have my tongue the moment I told her anything.”
    “Come on, Reg. Curiosity is eating at you, but I have to beg off. I won’t relent. When I think Brandy’s ready, I’ll introduce you to her, not before. You’re lucky. You should see how many I have to turn from my door already.”
    “Can’t I just have a peek? You won’t have to let her know I was there.”
    “She’ll know, Reg. She’s got your voice down, so she knew the last time. Besides, your mother would pull the rest of your hair out if you didn’t tell her. I’m sorry. I won’t have any more gossip until Brandy’s ready.”
    “Well, barring the remark about my hairline, and I’ll have you know that salve Witherspoon gave me makes it fall out faster than ever, but…when the devil will she be ready? You’re the butt of jokes down at White’s. And unless we can produce a wife, Runyon won’t be satisfied.”
    “So that’s what’s bothering you.” Gil chuckled. “And here I was beginning to think you’d turned into a gossip monger. All this time, you were concerned about adding more to your bulging coffers.”
    Reginald looked at his sleeve and dusted away an imaginary speck. “As I said before…I haven’t your luck, and Runyon won’t release my quid. He doesn’t believe the bet’s a wash, and that there are two Helen Bingham’s. I have to admit, even I shudder at the possibility, and I haven’t seen yours yet.”
    “You won’t until she’s ready, either.”
    “Well, when the devil will that be?”
    “Christ! How can I tell, the way she acts? I’ve never seen that many tears, and each time she catches sight of me, she starts up again. I have strict orders to stay away until Bridget sends for me. That, my friend, is why I can’t take you.”
    “Orders from Lady Bridget to stay away from your own house?”
    “Not mine, Reg. Grandmama’s. And I dare say Bridget could keep out a battalion if she set her mind to it. So. There you have it. My fate rests in Lady Bridget’s hands. I’m left with little to do except entertain the likes of you.”
    “Speaking of entertainment, Gillian, your man’s been away some time, and we do still have an audience with Sir Bingham ahead of us.”
    “Ah, yes, Bingham. My almost-brother-in-law. Sometimes, I truly believe in fate, Reg, when I contemplate what marrying Helen really meant. Well. Might as well have the swell shown in, and we’ll have a nice chuckle when he’s gone. What say you?”
    “The whiskey’s probably better company. 1 ’
    Gil gave Riggs the order.
    They didn’t wait long. The man who walked in had such a resemblance to Helen that Gil narrowed his eyes. How in blazes had he ever found such blond, insipid looks attractive? They were good enough for a night’s pleasure — and the ruination of his life, the little witch!
    Gil had been in hiding at his townhouse, the front secretary littered with dozens of invitations which he carefully avoided, especially if the invitation came from a Tremayne. His mother and sisters were shocked at his quick wedding, and he couldn’t admit the reason and that Helen had threatened to expose his deed with a maid.
    The whiskey settled at the back of his throat. Maid, my foot . Helen claimed more lovers than a working girl. Gil should kick himself for succumbing to her wiles, especially when what she really wanted was to be Lady Tremayne and wasn’t above blackmail