The words stopped in his throat as Noble spun around and wrapped his hand around the baronet’s neck, lifting him off the ground. “My wife did not disport herself with anyone, Tolly. Is that clear?”

“Noble, let him down, you’re choking him,” Rosse said, placing a hand on his friend’s arm.

“Is that clear?” Noble said again, his eyes never leaving Sir Hugh’s face. The baronet’s eyes rolled back, but he managed enough of a nod to satisfy Noble.

“I will take care of McGregor tomorrow morning,” Noble said, claiming his hat and walking stick and storming out the door.

“Where are you going now?” Rosse asked, following him to his carriage.

“Home,” Noble told the coachman grimly and then jumped into the carriage. “I’m going to make sure that bastard hasn’t harmed my wife and son.”

***

The mistresses looked at one another with chagrin.

“My lady,” Beverly said finally, “that’s…I don’t believe…I’ve never been asked that question by one of my gentlemen’s wives before.”

The other mistresses nodded.

“In fact, while we are speaking on the subject, I can honestly say that I’ve never met any of my gentlemen’s wives.”

The other three mistresses nodded again.

“It’s just not done.” Charlotte nodded with them. “Bad ton.”

“Oh, Charlotte, what do you know about it?” Gillian said with a frown at her grinning cousin. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“You asked me.”

“I made a mistake.”

“Ha!”

“Lady Weston, perhaps if you were to tell us why you’ve asked that so very unusual question, we might better be able to answer it.”

“Ah. Well, it’s very simple, really. My husband loved his first wife very deeply—”

Laura gave a ladylike snort of disbelief.

“I beg your pardon, Laura? Did you say something?”

“I snorted in disbelief, my lady.”

“Disbelief? Over something I said?”

“Yes, my lady. Gentlemen who love their wives very deeply do not keep mistresses.”

Gillian thought about that.

“Good point, Mistress Laura,” Charlotte said with approval. “If Lord Weston loved his Elizabeth so very much, Gilly, why did he have a string of ladybirds?”

Gillian chewed on her lower lip.

“I saw her once, you know,” Anne piped up. “At Drury Lane. She was in the box of another gentleman.”

Charlotte leaned forward. “And?”

“She was…ah…fondling him.”

Gillian blinked at her in surprise. “Elizabeth? Noble’s Elizabeth? But if she…and if he…he engaged you all…”

It didn’t make sense; even she, half-witted as she was from a night spent in Noble’s arms, could see that.

“My understanding is that you wish to know your husband’s favorite…ah…” Madelyn paused and sent a glance toward the enraptured Charlotte.

“Oh, you can say it in front of her,” Gillian said with a sigh. “She’s blackmailed me into giving her all of the pertinent details. I daresay by now she knows more than all of us combined.”

“To be forewarned is to be small-armed,” Charlotte said sagely. “Yes, do go on, Madelyn. We’re yearning to know.”

***

The drive to his house was a hellish nightmare. The streets seemed to close up before him, filled with reckless fools who did not know how to handle a coach and four, overturned carts, dogs leaping out and startling the horses, small children dashing hither and yon wherever Noble looked, and any number of other delays that stayed him from the side of his family, where he was most desperately needed.