Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(91)

“Ah, well,” her uncle said after he’d helped himself from the platter of goose as the next course was served, “I suppose we’ll simply have to muddle through. Between my patronage and Lady Thornbury’s kind offices, we should be able to beat back the worst of the gossip. Mr. Steele’s history is most unfortunate but, after all, he does come from the highest family in the land. And Captain St. George did tell me that Mr. Steele is quite in the Prince Regent’s good graces, which is something, I suppose.”


Justine didn’t know what that something was, since the only reason the Regent even acknowledged Griffin was because he owed him a considerable sum of money. Still, she could appreciate Aden’s attempt to smooth her uncle’s ruffled feathers, even though Aden was at this very moment sitting to her right, trying not to laugh. He’d clearly been listening in on their conversation, which was just the sort of conduct one could expect from a spy. Justine had every intention of having a word with him about his inappropriate amusement and his eavesdropping as soon as she had a chance.

“And,” her uncle added in a brighter voice, “you must be pleased to see Serena taking such an interest in Mr. Steele. Serena is quite one of the most popular hostesses of the ton. You can be sure that if she gives your new husband her approval, many others will follow.”

Uncle William beamed down the table at his eldest daughter, sitting so close to Griffin that she was practically in his lap. If Justine knew Serena, she probably had her hand on his thigh, too. And from the look on Griffin’s face—his lips curved in a lazy, amused smile—he was enjoying every minute of her cousin’s cloying attentions. It was all Justine could do not to stand up, grab one of the heavy Wedgwood candlesticks in front of her, and lob it at her husband’s head.

Fortunately, Lady Thornbury smoothly inserted herself into the conversation, capturing Griffin’s attention away from a pouting Serena. Justine breathed a sigh of relief to see her husband shift his undivided interest to his hostess. Griffin clearly enjoyed flouting the rules of social convention. But he just as clearly knew how to employ them, and had the decency to behave like a gentleman to Lady Thornbury who’d done everything she could to make this evening a success.

“Having fun?” Aden murmured to her when her uncle turned his attention to his other seatmate.

“You have no idea,” Justine replied in a dry voice.

Aden briefly glanced down the table in Griffin’s direction. “All in all, I think it’s going rather well. My cousin hasn’t insulted anyone or made any lewd jokes, though I can tell he’s itching to do so. You must be a good influence on him.”

She sighed. “I doubt it.”

As far as Justine was concerned, the evening couldn’t end soon enough. It had followed a few extremely tense days in the Steele household, the result of her unwelcome wedding night questions regarding Griffin’s family. After he’d stalked out of her room, she hadn’t seen him until the next afternoon when he’d marched into the drawing room where she and Vivien St. George were having a quiet visit. With barely a nod in Vivien’s direction, he announced that he intended to hire an additional nurse for Stephen. When Justine objected, saying she was perfectly capable of taking care of one little baby, he’d barked out that he would not tolerate his wife scuttling around the house like a servant.

Griffin had followed up that nonsense by instructing her to visit a dressmaker to order a wardrobe appropriate to her new status. That, naturally, had led to another argument, culminating with him stalking out of the room and Justine thinking about bashing him over the head with the teapot. That she could wish to behave so uncharacteristically led to only one conclusion—either she possessed more of her father’s temperament than she’d ever imagined, or Griffin was driving her insane.