“What are you having?” Sabrina accompanied her to a large seating area.
Mrs. Brightly sat on a narrow settee, and Brightly joined her there. “The marsala. It’s divine.”
Sabrina took a seat on another wider settee covered in a rich, teal blue damask. Constantine followed and sat beside her, though not as close as their hosts were sitting. But then, the Brightlys’ furnishing ensured a rather intimate proximity.
“Then that’s what I shall have,” Sabrina said to their hostess. “I find I’m distressingly partial to nearly all fortified wine. I only recently discovered this when his lordship arranged for me to taste several varieties so I could compare them.”
“That sounds like such fun.” Mrs. Brightly turned to her husband. “We must do that.”
Brightly regarded her with a glowing expression. “Your wish is always my command, my love.”
Already, Constantine felt the palpable connection between the Brightlys. It was always thus—it was no mystery how the couple felt about one another. Glancing toward Sabrina, he wondered if she noticed it. Both tonight and on their previous visits.
“Wilkes, four marsalas, if you please.” Brightly looked to Constantine. “If that’s all right with you? Keeps things simple, and it’s a marvelous bottle, if I do say so.”
“Brilliant,” Constantine said, wondering if he ought to inch closer to Sabrina. He wanted to. Since she’d kissed him in the coach, perhaps she wanted the same.
The butler, who had lingered in the doorway after showing Constantine and Sabrina to the parlor, poured and distributed the wine. He then departed.
Brightly sipped his marsala before putting his arm along the back of the settee behind his wife. “I must tell you, Aldington, Mrs. Brightly and I received invitations to the Phoenix Club yesterday. I am rather shocked.” He exchanged an excited look with Mrs. Brightly. They seemed to be suppressing, rather poorly, a sense of glee.
“This pleases you, I take it?” Constantine asked even as his insides felt as though he’d swallowed acid. Why was he not good enough for the club? A club run by his brother who claimed to be looking out for him.
“I’m quite thrilled,” Mrs. Brightly said, her eyes dancing. “I understand I can visit the gentlemen’s side on Tuesdays. And then there are the exclusive assemblies on Friday. It’s all so decadent!”
“Lady Aldington is a member,” Constantine said rather tightly. The press of Sabrina’s thigh against his startled him. She’d moved closer. Her hand rested on her lap but was quite close to his. His pulse thrummed.
“How splendid!” Mrs. Brightly looked to Sabrina. “Were you there last night, Lady Aldington?”
Constantine felt her stiffen and knew her answer. Just as he knew she hadn’t told him.
“Er, yes.” She flicked a look toward Constantine. “It was my first opportunity to visit on a Tuesday, and Lord Lucien—Aldington’s brother—showed me around.”
“I hear the gaming room can be quite raucous,” Brightly said.
“And the décor is reputed to be opulent.” Mrs. Brightly lifted her marsala to take a drink.
Sabrina leaned her head toward Constantine’s. “I was going to tell you,” she whispered.
Mrs. Brightly looked to Constantine. “Lord Aldington, you can escort Horace while Lady Aldington does the same for me.”
“I am not a member.” Constantine took a long sip of the marsala, allowing the sweet wine to coat his tongue.
Mrs. Brightly paled, and Brightly moved his arm to her upper back. He squeezed her shoulder and gave Constantine a rather pained smile. “Apologies, Aldington.”
“That isn’t necessary. I’m sure many wonder why I am not a member of my brother’s club. I do not presume to understand their membership practices, nor do I wish to. I am content with my other memberships. They certainly don’t leave me wanting for more.” He straightened, pushing his back against the settee. “Besides, I am delighted to be a founding member of the exclusive Gentlemen’s Phaeton Racing Club.”
Brightly lifted his glass. “Hear, hear!” Everyone took a drink before Brightly continued. “I can scarcely believe it’s already time for our first excursion on Saturday.”
“And I can scarcely believe wives are still not allowed to come.” Mrs. Brightly gently nudged her husband in the ribs with her elbow. She grinned up at him, and they shared a moment in which it seemed they were the only people in the room.
Constantine was aware of Sabrina’s hand brushing against his thigh. His head snapped toward hers as a jolt of heat shot through him.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her lashes fluttered in an expression that was at once demure and enticing. He struggled to take a breath.
“I asked Aldington the same thing,” Sabrina said, her gaze reluctantly leaving his. “I was jesting, however. Are you doing the same?”
“Always. I understand the racing club is for gentlemen. Just as my needlework club is for ladies.” Mrs. Brightly focused on Sabrina intently. “If you enjoy needlework, you should join us.”
“Why thank you,” Sabrina said politely. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Did she do needlework? Constantine had no idea. “Perhaps we should insist the gentlemen allow us to accompany them, just for this first excursion.” She looked from Brightly to Constantine.
Mrs. Brightly’s forehead creased as she pivoted toward her husband. “That’s a splendid idea. Why not allow us to come on this first race? I can’t see the harm in it.”
Brightly’s mouth opened but no words came out. He looked to Constantine, and his need for assistance was clear.
“We would have to obtain the agreement of the rest of the club,” Constantine said. “We have a meeting tomorrow. I’ll raise the issue.”
Sabrina stared at him. “You will?”
“I’ll support you in it,” Brightly said. “I own it would be terribly diverting to have the wives along on a jaunt. Mrs. Brightly and I do love to drive together, though we don’t do it as much as in the early days of our marriage.”
“And when we were courting. You took me on that rather scandalous drive to Islington.” She briefly grazed her hand against his leg and met his gaze, laughing.
Brightly chuckled. “We were already betrothed, so it wasn’t that scandalous. I simply couldn’t wait to be alone with you.” He winked at her, and it was clear they had been a love match from the very beginning.
Mrs. Brightly turned her attention to Sabrina. “What sort of scandalous things did you and Aldington get up to before you were wed?”
“Nothing,” Sabrina answered. “Our courtship was incredibly proper. I don’t mean to imply that yours wasn’t,” she quickly added.
Constantine noted the faint flush at the base of her neck. “I’m afraid her ladyship and I are sticklers for propriety. Aren’t we, dear?” He admired her profile before she turned her head.
“That, and we seem to enjoy anticipation.” Her eyes glittered with heat, and Constantine feared his cock would embarrass him. For a woman who had never flirted with him before a week or so ago, she’d somehow become incredibly skilled.