“It’s quite all right, old friend. Your wife has been amply chaperoned the entire time, as you can see.”

“All’s well that ends happily,” Charlotte said as she dimpled at Rosse.

“I would like to have a word with Carlisle alone,” Noble said in a gravelly voice.

Carlisle brushed himself off. “I don’t believe I care for the odds of this situation. We have an appointment to meet at dawn two days hence, Weston? Excellent. I shall arrange for seconds and see you then. Ladies, if you will excuse me.” Carlisle bowed and left the room.

Gillian, who had taken hold of her husband’s arm when Carlisle emerged from the bed, breathed a sigh of relief that quickly turned to one of worry when Noble, casting her a glance filled with portent, said, “If you would all excuse us, I believe my wife and I need to talk.”

“Certainly,” Charlotte said brightly and instantly attached herself to the marquis. “Lord Rosse, would you escort me downstairs? I have no head for directions and am sure I would get lost without you to guide me.”

Rosse waved the footman out before him and did his duty with a minimum of eye rolling and just the merest grin to Noble.

“Weston, I feel compelled to plead Lady Weston’s case to you,” Sir Hugh said, fidgeting with his quizzing glass. “She is young and quite impressionable, and I’m sure she had no intention that news of her assignation be spread among everyone—”

“That’s enough, Tolly,” Noble growled and, removing Gillian from his arm, he marched over and held the door open. “Gillian does not need you to plead her case.”

“But Carlisle was here—”

“Good evening, Tolly,” Noble said in a tone that even Sir Hugh did not dare challenge. Gillian wished she could escape the room with him. She knew Noble would have several things to say to her about meeting with Carlisle, and none of them would be pleasant or reasonable.

“Go ahead, Noble. I’m braced. You may proceed.”

“I may, may I? And what do you expect me to proceed with, madam?” he asked, stalking toward her.

Gillian couldn’t help herself—she backed up as he continued toward her. “Why, your lecture to me about meeting with Lord Carlisle when you specifically forbade any such meeting,” she said, then gasped when she ran up against the wall.

“Ah, so you were paying attention,” Noble said, his gray eyes dark with emotion. Her Lord of Lectures stood toe-to-toe with her, then placed a hand on either side of the wall next to her head and leaned in until their noses were almost touching. “I was beginning to wonder if indeed you pay attention when I speak to you.”

“Oh, my, yes,” Gillian said breathlessly, affected by his nearness despite his irritation with her. She breathed in deeply, reveling in his scent. “Almost all of the time.”

“‘Almost all of the time’?” Noble growled, brushing her lips carelessly with his. Gillian’s heart raced. What was he doing? Was he not going to yell at her? Or was this some new punishment? A groan slipped past her lips as Noble leaned his hard body against hers, pushing her back against the wall. Oh, God, if it was a punishment, she’d be sure to encourage it every day!