Regarding the Duke

by Grace Callaway

  “It’s not over yet.” He rolled on top of her, his erection pressing into her belly. “We’ve got a few hours left, and I intend to make good use of them.”

  26

  As she stepped over the threshold into the townhouse, accepting Burke’s welcome, Gabby had the odd sense that she was entering a new place. Yet nothing had visibly altered; the veined marble floors, tiered chandelier, and sweeping double staircase were the same as when she saw them last. It must be that something in her had changed, then, that caused her to see her home with fresh eyes.

  The floors gleamed with a deeper shine, the wood accents richer and finer than she remembered. Beneath the twinkling chandelier, the bouquet on the round rosewood table bloomed with colorful magnificence, the scent of hothouse roses perfuming the air. She experienced a fresh, poignant appreciation for this home that she’d had a part in building. That was a symbol of the love and commitment between her and her husband.

  As if Adam, too, felt the significance of their return, he slid an arm around her waist.

  “It’s good to be home, isn’t it?” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple. “To be back where we started…but also in a different place.”

  She was no longer surprised at how attuned he was to her feelings. Adam had always been perceptive. The difference now was that she felt safe letting her guard down, allowing him to see the parts of her she’d previously kept hidden. He returned her honesty with his own; in some ways, she felt she’d learned more about him in five days than she had in the prior eight years.

  “Mama! Papa! You’re home!”

  The happy cries and stampeding footsteps announced the arrival of Fiona and Max. As Adam swung Fiona in an arc that made her giggle, Max ran to Gabby, who crouched to receive his hug.

  “How I’ve missed you, my lamb.” She hugged him close, inhaling his sweet boy smell.

  “I’ve missed you too, Mama. I learned new words when you were gone,” he exclaimed. “Miss Thornton taught me how to spell rainbow!”

  “Too bad you couldn’t figure it out during charades,” Fiona muttered.

  Yet her jibe at her younger brother was good-natured, and she dashed over to receive Gabby’s hug as Max went to Adam, who affectionately ruffled his son’s dark hair.

  “How was your vacation with Papa?” Fiona asked.

  Loath to let her firstborn go, Gabby held Fi close for another moment. “It was ever so wonderful. Although we did miss the two of you.”

  “Maybe next time Fiona and I can go on vacation too,” Max said eagerly.

  “A splendid idea, lad,” Adam said. “We’ll plan a family trip next summer. To the Continent, perhaps.”

  The children’s eyes widened.

  “Truly?” Fiona breathed.

  “Yes, poppet. Your mama informs me that we’ve never taken a vacation as a family, an oversight that I intend to remedy.” Adam’s gaze moved up to meet Gabby’s. “Besides, I think vacationing agrees with your mama. A change in routine brings out a whole new side of her.”

  Gabby blushed at the very knowing, very male look in her husband’s eyes.

  “You do look different, Mama.” Fiona studied her with a disconcertingly keen gaze. “Your cheeks are glowing and your eyes are brighter. You look very pretty.”

  “Mama is always pretty,” Max said.

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “You are such a sycophant, Maximillian.”

  Gabby felt her brows rise at the same time that Adam said sternly, “An impressive word, although not one that applies to your brother.”

  “I’m sorry, Max,” Fiona muttered.

  “I’m not a sycophant.” Max scowled at his sister. “Whatever that is.”

  “It’s a toadying sort of person,” Fiona explained.

  “Where did you learn the word?” Gabby asked curiously.

  “Olivia taught it to me. She learned it from her papa, who was describing members of the Queen’s court.”

  “A word used in its proper context.” Adam’s expression turned to one of amusement.

  “Context is important.” Gabby narrowed her eyes at her husband, which only made his lips quirk. “But no matter the situation, it isn’t nice to make judgements of others, for no one is perfect. Recall the proverb about glass houses.”

  “Yes, Mama,” Fi and Max chorused.

  Relieved and rather surprised by the children’s obedience, Gabby smiled at them. “Papa and I brought back presents for the two of you. After our valises are unpacked, we’ll bring them to the nursery. For now, run along with Miss Thornton.”

  The children dashed off.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I actually missed the mayhem,” Adam remarked.

  Gabby tried out a coy look. “Did I not provide enough excitement for you, Mr. Garrity?”

  “Minx.” His eyes gleamed. “I really did create a monster. Lucky me.”

  He was pulling her close when Burke came into the antechamber. At the sight of his master and mistress embracing, the ancient retainer turned a bright shade of red.

  “Oh…beg pardon,” he said hastily.

  “It’s quite all right, Burke.”

  Flustered, Gabby swatted ineffectually at Adam’s hands, which remained clamped on her waist. He returned her beseeching look with an amused but unyielding one of his own. His words rang in her head.

  From now on, I won’t limit my desire for you in any way.

  Not even in front of the servants, apparently.

  Her embarrassment gave way to her true desire. She and Adam had years of intimacy to make up for. If he wanted to indulge in public displays of affection, who was she to argue?

  Relaxing against Adam, she addressed the butler. “Was there something you wanted?”

  “A letter arrived for you, madam.” Burke extended the silver salver with the note the way one might hold out a steak to a rabid dog. “It is from Mrs. Kent. The messenger said it was important.”

  Gabby’s entire being froze. A message from Tessa…it could only be about one thing. What happiness had pushed from her mind.

  Jessabelle.

  Aware of Adam behind her, she took the note with numb fingers. “Thank you, Burke.”

  After the butler took off like the hounds of hell were at his heels, Adam let her go, giving her a curious look.

  “What is the matter, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  If only he knew how close he was to the truth. For an instant, she considered telling him what she’d asked Tessa to do for her…but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. To destroy their hard-won joy over a matter that could be nothing. Moreover, even if Jessabelle had been a whore at The Gilded Pearl, Adam would have no memory of her. What good would it do to accuse him of an infidelity he couldn’t even remember committing?

  For the first time in my life, I’m truly happy. My husband is a different man now, and he loves me. Whatever he may or may not have done in the past, does it really matter?

  “It’s nothing.” Her hand curled around the note.

  “Burke just said it was important.”

  Although she was terrible at lying, the excuse came with surprising ease. “Tessa is holding a ball next week in honor of Maggie and Ransom’s engagement, remember?” she said brightly. “She probably wants to know what I’m wearing.”

  “Ah. Important ladies’ matters.”

  She was so relieved at her husband’s faint smile that she wasn’t prepared for his next question.

  “So, what are you wearing?”

  “Oh, I, um…don’t know. I’m certain I have a suitable ballgown lying around. Nell will help me choose something from my wardrobe.”

  “A special occasion calls for a new gown. We’ll visit the modiste tomorrow.”

  “We?” She tilted her head, confused. “You’re coming with me?”

  “Don’t you want your husband’s opinion?”

  “You’ve never gone to the dress shop with me before,” she said doubtfully. “It can be dreadfully dull.
”

  “Nothing involving you is dull.” As he leaned in to kiss her cheek, her hand tightened protectively around the note. “Make the appointment for late afternoon tomorrow. I’ll go straight from the office.”

  She’d almost forgotten that he’d be returning to work on the morrow.

  “Very well,” she said.

  “I’d better check in on the unpacking of the gifts. Much longer and the children will start a rebellion,” he said with a grin.

  “I’ll meet you up there,” she replied.

  After he left, she looked at the crumpled note in her hand. How strange that a piece of paper felt as lethal as an explosive device. Delaying wasn’t going to ameliorate its impact, however.

  Taking a breath, she broke the wax seal and scanned the brief message.

  The female of interest was not an employee of a certain place. You may put your mind at ease, dear friend. Now I have a favor to ask: would you please come over at your earliest convenience to help me choose the flowers for my ball? Who knew there were so many varieties of the blasted things?

  -Tessa

  The sound that escaped Gabby was halfway between a sob and a laugh, but the feeling that flooded her was one of pure, dazzling relief.

  27

  “This is all I have at the moment, but I swear on my mama’s grave that I’ll have the rest of the blunt to you next month.”

  Adam looked at the gold locket on his desk then back at the bedraggled lordling sitting across from him. Evanston had the bleary-eyed look of a man who’d spent the night drinking, gambling, whoring…and God knew what else.

  “Your mother’s still alive,” Adam said, having reviewed the client’s file thoroughly. “Which is more than you’ll be if you miss another payment.”

  Murray, who was watching the exchange with his shoulder propped against the wall, smothered his laugh with a cough.

  “Have mercy, sir. I won’t be late again.” Evanston exuded the optimism of a man who believes his own lies.

  “If you want mercy, go to your priest.” Adam pinned Evanston with a look, long enough for the cove to start shaking in his boots. “Leave the locket. I’ll consider it interest for the amount you owe. Which, by the way, has doubled for next month.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Clearing his throat, Evanston said hopefully, “Would you consider extending some extra credit—”

  “Do you enjoy being Kerrigan’s punching bag? Get out before I have him throw you out.”

  “Right-o!” Evanston leapt to his feet, bowing all the way to the door. “See you next month!”

  Shaking his head, Murray went to close the door. “See you next month. Evanston says that as cheerfully as if you’re his best crony. If one didn’t know better, one would think he missed you during your absence.”

  “A moneylender is a gentleman’s best friend,” Adam said wryly.

  “By God, you haven’t changed at all.” Murray grinned. “Good to have you back, Garrity.”

  “It’s good to be back.”

  That was the truth. The moment Adam had walked into his spacious, well-appointed office, he’d felt a sense of belonging. A king—or sultan, he’d thought with a private smile—returning to his rightful throne. He’d spent the morning reviewing matters of priority with Murray then transitioned to meeting with clients in the afternoon.

  All of it had come as naturally as breathing. The business of being a moneylender, of assessing risk and benefit, seizing upon opportunity and, aye, collecting his just dues, suited his nature. It gave direction to his ruthless ambition and drive, his bone-deep need to achieve success. And he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of it.

  Murray sprawled in the chair vacated by Evanston. “How was your trip to Hertfordshire?”

  Memories heated Adam’s blood. In truth, thoughts of Gabby had been a threat to his concentration throughout the day. As much as he enjoyed his return to work, he missed having her near. Hearing her sweet voice as she chattered on about some domestic matter, smelling her perfume, holding her soft, curvy body against his…

  “From the way you’re smiling, I’d say you enjoyed the time with your lady very much.”

  Seeing Murray’s waggling brows, Adam quickly firmed his lips. “Stop being an idiot.”

  “I was wrong before: you have changed.” Murray studied him with lazy hazel eyes that hid a razor-sharp mind. “Why, Garrity, I believe you are a man in love.”

  Adam returned the other’s stare with a pointed one of his own. “Do you wish to have a session with Kerrigan?”

  “Love is naught to be ashamed of. Despite his best intentions, no man is immune to it. Take my older brother, for instance,” Murray said airily. “Carlisle was a confirmed bachelor, a practical soul who wouldn’t know a poem if it smacked him in the nose. Yet one nudge from my lovely sister-in-law Violet—and by nudge, I mean she literally pushed him into a fountain—and he toppled straight into Cupid’s arms.”

  “Is there a point to this soliloquy?”

  “A sensible man guards his heart; a smart man knows when to yield it.” Murray’s brows lifted. “With a wife like Mrs. Garrity, you’d be a fool to withhold your heart—or any of your organs.”

  “Mention my wife’s name in the same sentence as ‘organs’ again, and I will personally tear you from limb to limb.”

  “Protective, aren’t we?” Murray held his hands up in a placating gesture when Adam began to rise. “All fun aside, may I say how glad I am to see you fully recovered? I know these past weeks have not been easy on you or Mrs. Garrity.”

  Settling back into his chair, Adam gave the other one last warning look. “My wife has been an angel. No man could ask for more.”

  “I’m glad you finally realize your good fortune.”

  Something in Murray’s tone made Adam frown. “Are you implying that I did not before?”

  Did the other know something about Adam’s past? About why he’d kept a deliberate distance from his own wife? He had committed himself to moving forward in his marriage, to not waste time trying to unearth old history when he could spend that energy loving his Gabriella. But if there was something Murray knew…

  “Just a feeble attempt at humor,” Murray said easily. “Enough about you, let’s talk about a more interesting subject: me.”

  Adam couldn’t tell if the other was lying, but he decided to let it go. For now.

  He steepled his fingers. “What about you?”

  “I’ve landed us a trio of new clients. All newly come into their titles and all horse-mad, with a convenient penchant for betting on the wrong horse. We’re going to make a fortune—”

  The longcase clock chimed, alerting Adam to the time.

  “Bloody hell, is it three already? I’m going to be late.” He rose, striding to the door, grabbing his hat and walking stick from the mahogany and brass stand along the way.

  “Late for what?” Murray’s forehead furrowed. “You usually don’t leave the office until six. At the earliest.”

  He was damned if he was going to admit that he was headed to a dress shop to choose a gown for his wife.

  “It’s an urgent matter,” he said curtly.

  No lie there. Gabby was delectable no matter what she wore, but when it came to fashion, she was a bloody emergency. She needed his help…whether she knew it or not.

  “In that case, I’ll hold down the fort,” Murray said. “By the by, Cornish sent a note. Said he would have some report to you soon.”

  “Excellent. Have the secretary schedule him in the calendar.”

  With that, Adam strode out.

  “Papa, I have to go,” Gabby said regretfully.

  “You just got here,” her father grumbled.

  Which wasn’t true. She’d spent the day at his bedside. In the short time that she’d been in Hertfordshire, his condition had taken a turn for the worse. Today, she’d kept a fretful vigil as he drifted in and out of sleep; even when he was awake, his mind was foggy from the laudanum the physician
had prescribed for his growing pain.

  Seeing her father’s pallid skin stretch over his increasingly skeletal features wedged a lump in her throat. She could hardly believe that this was the robust, larger-than-life man of her childhood. While his presence might have been limited in her life, she’d always known that he’d held affection for her, in his own way.

  She loved him so…and wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

  She brushed the sparse grey strands off his forehead, placed a kiss on his speckled brow.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said. “And I’ll bring the children. Fiona and Max miss their grandpapa.”

  “They’re welcome to visit as long as they don’t perform a play. I might not live long enough to get through another one.”

  The unexpected flash of her father’s dry wit made her smile.

  “No play, Papa,” she said tenderly. “Just a nice chat.”

  “Speaking of chat, there is something we must discuss. Help me sit up, Gabriella.”

  Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, Gabby gnawed on her lip. She would be late meeting Adam at the dressmaker’s, and it was too late to send a note. Seeing her father struggle to sit up, however, she assisted him so that he was propped up comfortably against the pillows.

  “Now that the damned laudanum is finally wearing off,” he said though huffing breaths, “I have something to say.”

  “Do you need more medicine?” she asked anxiously. “Are you in pain?”

  “What I need is a clear head for a blasted second. Stop hovering, girl, and sit.”

  She returned to the chair, perching warily. “What is it, Papa?”

  “For some time now, I’ve had a gut feeling that something is rotten in the state of Denmark. And by Denmark, I’m referring to your trust.”

  “My trust?” Gabby blinked. “You set that up years ago, with Mr. Isnard as my trustee. I thought the terms were laid out to your specifications.”

  “The terms are clear. Upon my death, all my wealth, including property and controlling interest in Billings Bank will go into the trust. Mr. Isnard is directed to oversee the trust for your benefit and that of my grandchildren.”