“Then we must find your husband his own paramour,” John said grimly. “So that he will leave mine alone.”

She gave a weary laugh. “What an odd conversation to have.”

“I know.” Hargreaves grinned, and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Shall we sit, and plan a dinner, then? We can make a list of all the women we think Grayson would enjoy, and invite them.”

“Oh, John.” Isabel smiled her first genuine smile since Gray had returned. “That is such an inspired enterprise. Why could I not have thought of it?”

“Because that’s what you have me for.”

Gerard read the morning’s newspaper over coffee, and attempted to ignore his anxiousness. He would be seen today, Society would know that he had returned. Over the next few days, old acquaintances would come to call, and he would have to decide which friendships to renew, and which would remain in the past.

“Good morning, my lord.”

He looked up at the sound of Isabel’s voice, and took a sharp, quick inhale as he stood. She was dressed in pale blue, her bodice low and displaying the generous curves of her breasts, while the waist was high and banded with darker blue ribbon. Her gaze would not meet his directly until he returned her greeting. Then she looked at him, and managed a smile.

Pel was obviously nervous, and it was the first time that he had ever seen her less than utterly confident. She stared at him a moment. Then her chin lifted, and she approached him. She pulled out the chair next to him before he could unlock his muscles and do it for her. He cursed inwardly. He had not been a monk for four years, but it had been a good while since his last liaison. Too long.

“Gray,” she began.