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But he did not accompany her. He’d waved her on, and that had been the last she’d seen of him. The day had marched on, with a servant even bringing Marcia supper in her rooms.

She’d only just sought him out and found that he hadn’t gone off to one of those wicked clubs where he’d taken her.

Rather, he was here. With his friends, of course.

But still here.

Hovering outside the closed door of his billiards room, she debated what to do.

He didn’t want her company.

He’d never professed they would be anything more than friends.

But neither did that mean they had to live separate lives.

These past days with him, as they’d explored the more sinful sides of London he so enjoyed, had proven they were compatible partners, friends. Why, they could still explore all of those same haunts together.

She could be like one of his male chums.

With that resolve in place, Marcia pressed the handle and let herself in.

The room instantly went silent. The three players—Andrew and two of his notoriously wicked friends, Lord Landon and the Duke of Rothesby—stared at her.

For a moment, Marcia’s courage flagged as she recalled that shewasn’tone of his male chums.

Leave. Just go.

But if she went now, then it’d be a certainty that she’d absolutely live her own life while he lived his. And she didn’t want that. They were friends, and she wanted that continued friendship.

Before her courage completely deserted her, Marcia smiled and pushed the door shut behind her as she entered.

“Billiards! I confess I’ve always wanted to play,” she said, and Landon and Rothesby sent each other side looks as she skipped over and stretched her fingers up for one of the cue sticks.

She attempted to wrestle it free.

“Here, my lady.”

Lord Rothesby was immediately there.

Not her husband.

She didn’t want it to matter that this stranger, and not Andrew, had come to her aid.

She smiled and accepted the stick from him. “Thank you.”

He returned her smile, his an easy half tilt that radiated with warmth and sincerity, and more of her tension abated… until her gaze went to Andrew.

He did not wear a smile of any sort. Rather, his harshly beautiful features were set in a scowl.

On this, their wedding night.

A wedding night he had opted to spend with his friends.

Unnerved and with an awkward silence hanging over the room, Marcia did a circle of the table.

I should leave.

Andrew gave no indication he wanted her close. Or, for that matter, anywhere near him.