Mortimer’s hawk eyes shifted over them. “No punishment. If the book is returned to the club.”
The table reeked of skepticism.
“You think there would be punishment for a lady of breeding?” Mortimer snorted. “Will never happen. The club just wants the book returned.”
Naturally, so long as the book is returned to its rightful place, they could all pretend that nothing had ever happened, that none of them had behaved badly, that no ladies had been treated shamefully. Deerhurst understood. He also felt disgusted.
Mortimer’s gaze missed nothing. “Of course, I am merely acting as a representative of the club.”
Saville sneered. “You still had to agree.”
“How could I not? There are ladies involved. Would you rather I had given way for Cromby to hunt down the book?”
Deerhurst stilled.
“In any event,” Mortimer went on. “I’ve heard rumors that there are many gentlemen who are as outraged by tonight’s events as the women are about the wagers on those pages. Already, talk had begun of wives bolting their chamber doors shut. Some men will want retribution for that. I’d keep an eye out for your ladies if I were you.”
It was a warning.
One Deerhurst felt it best to heed.
Chapter Twenty
Phaedra refused toleave her chamber for five full days. On the sixth day, the soft blue wallpaper covered with colorful sparrows finally chafed her nerves, so she ventured to the library, one of her favorite rooms in the house.
Drawing rooms were off limits. They reminded her of Deerhurst.
The one used to receive callers had been used in the most carnal ways by her aunt, and Phaedra herself had shared a passionate kiss in the same one. The other one, well that drawing room held memories of a different sort. Deerhurst’s appearance. Climbing through the window. His arms wrapped around her.
Phaedra pushed the memories from her mind. The library wasn’t much better. While she hadn’t shared a moment here with Deerhurst, she had been introduced to the wordcarnal.
However, the smell of hundreds of books gave her more comfort than the discomfort of that one memory could dispel.
These past several days, Mary had kept her abreast of household activities. They hadn’t received any callers since the Stewart ball. Apparently, Mary had overheard rumors that many wives were revolting against their husbands, including Phaedra’s mother, who hadn’t spoken to Phaedra’s father since that night. And Aunt Portia had also been ordered to break off any connection with that man, Brayton.
She sighed.
She hated that her parents were at odds because of her. Which was one of the reasons—besides her bedchamber wallpaper—she had ventured from her room. If her mother saw she was out and about, she might forgive her father.
“My lady.” Phaedra looked up to find a footman at the door. “You have callers, a Lady Selena and Lady Harriet.”
“Please direct them here.”
The footman inclined his head and left to return a few moments later with two of Phaedra’s newfound friends.
“We heard about Deerhurst,” Selena wasted no time in saying as they each took a seat on the chaise longue.
“You have?” Panic erupted in her heart. What exactly had they heard? An alarming thought, since Phaedra and Deerhurst were the only two who were supposed to know aboutthem.
“You ended your courtship,” Harriet said. “I didn’t even know the earl was courting you.”
Selena nodded. “We were quite surprised. You never said anything at Ophelia’s.”
Right.
Their fake courtship that had become real. And then fake again.
Her heartbeat settled. “It wasn’t that serious.”
