Mullworth sighed. “I don’t suppose you’d forgo a dalliance with Chandler and bring a desperate man some comfort?”
“Of course not.” Lucinda’s sharp tone quickly mellowed. “But it wouldn’t hurt to hear your proposition. At the very least, I might find someone else who interests you.” Lucinda turned to Matthew. She wore the same sultry grin he’d seen a hundred times before. “Don’t go anywhere, Chandler. I shall be right back.”
Lucinda sauntered off with Mullworth. With any luck, she’d find someone else to stalk, someone else to stare at with her beady eyes. Indeed, his patience for her games had reached an end.
Mullworth’s comment irritated him, too. It didn’t matter how affectionate he was with his wife. People still assumed he would frolic with the likes of Miss Pearce. Tales and gossip had no effect on him, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt Priscilla.
Perhaps the time had come to focus on more worthy pursuits. To progress one had to reassess one’s priorities. Painting was his love. So why the hell was he wasting time entertaining degenerates? People who vilified his home and abused his character.
“Chandler. Are you so drunk you’ve lost the use of your faculties?” Chigwell’s amused voice disturbed his reverie. “Did you not hear what I said?”
“Forgive me. No.” Matthew looked up and noted Chigwell was alone.
“We’re leaving.” He slapped Matthew on the back. “I’m to give Mrs Wilson a ride home whereupon she is to make a thorough assessment of my person and decide if mature beef is just as tasty as veal.”
“Then for your sake, I hope you come up to scratch.”
Chigwell patted him on the back. “I intend to suck in my stomach and give it my best effort.”
In his eagerness to reach Mrs Wilson, who was waiting on the stairs, Chigwell rushed off. But Matthew was not left alone for long.
“And so you find yourself without friends again, Matthew.” Lucinda mocked. “Perhaps you should make more effort to nurture relationships.”
“What’s wrong, Lucinda? Are you tired of Mullworth already?”
“Mullworth is hardly what one would call a virile specimen of a man, whereas you radiate strength and a powerful, masculine energy. Indeed, it is the reason I have decided to give you one more chance. There is a comfortable sofa in the parlour, I recall. And you would be surprised what we could achieve in an hour.”
For the love of God, the snake had shed her skin and had no recollection of their earlier conversation.
“How many times must I tell you? I love my wife.” The truth hit him so hard he jerked his head. Bloody hell. “I love my wife,” he repeated with a slight hint of surprise as his mouth curled up into a smile. “There is not a woman on earth who could tempt me to be unfaithful.”
Lucinda drew back ready to spit venom. “Then you’re a fool, a damn cuckold. I’ve seen the way she dances with men.”
“No, you’ve seen the way she dances with her husband.”
“I’ve seen the way she flirts around Lord Boden. You know he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. I don’t suppose he expected it to be so easy, but surely you didn’t think he’d leave here without winning something.”
Anger flamed in Matthew’s chest. He grabbed Lucinda by the arm. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She sneered. “I’m talking about the note Boden sent pretending to be you. The one left in your wife’s bedchamber while you were busy dancing. I’m talking about the secret liaison to meet in that delightful summerhouse in the garden. No doubt she will be there now, believing her husband couldn’t wait to kiss her again.”
Panic rushed through his body like a vine, its twig-like tentacles crawling into every available space. “My footman would never have given permission for a man to go upstairs.”
“Of course, Boden had a little assistance. You’d be surprised how helpful your staff can be when a lady feels unwell. But I should hurry. I fear you might already be too late.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? Why don’t you see for yourself? I saw Lord Boden in the garden a few minutes ago.”
It couldn’t be true. He would have seen Priscilla enter the ballroom unless she’d used a different entrance into the garden.
“Any lady would be shocked to find a strange man in the dark when she thought she’d be meeting her husband,” Lucinda continued. “But Boden is a large man who can be very persuasive, particularly when drunk.”
What option did he have? He could speak to John, race upstairs to check Priscilla was still in her chamber, but what if Lucinda was right? Boden had consumed far too much brandy, and Matthew had witnessed the look of resentment in the lord’s eyes.
“I want you out of my house, Lucinda.” With gritted teeth, he mumbled a curse. “I want you out of my house now. Never come here again.”
An arrogant grin formed on her lips. “And what about my membership? Surely—”