Diana watched as he crossed the breakfast room in long and forceful strides, noting the way his dark-brown superfine moulded to the width of his shoulders and narrow waist, his buff-coloured pantaloons doing the same for his long and muscled thighs. Physical attributes, along with those sensually pleasurable kisses, which set her pulse racing just to think of them, indicating that the best—and certainly the safest—course was not to think about them at all!
‘I had almost forgotten…’ Gabriel suddenly said as he came to a halt in the doorway to turn and look back at her standing so elegantly in the centre of the room. ‘I realise that Hampshire is a large county, but do you by any chance know of a family named Morton?’ He had already sent several old comrades into Hampshire in search of Dominic Vaughn and the woman he had announced it was his intention to marry, but it would be negligent on his part not to enquire if Diana knew of the woman’s family. Something he had almost forgotten to do since kissing her earlier.
‘Morton?’ She looked momentarily startled. ‘The butler at Shoreley Park is named Morton, but, apart from that, I’m not aware of any family of that name.’
Gabriel’s expression became guarded. ‘Indeed? And does he possess a family? In particular, a daughter of marriageable age?’
‘Not that I am aware of… No, I am sure he does not,’ she said firmly. ‘Morton has been with us for years. I am sure I would have heard of a daughter if he had one.’
‘Hmm,’ Gabriel murmured softly. ‘Still, it is curious that your butler also possesses that name…’
‘Why is it curious, my lord?’ Diana looked puzzled.
‘I am not sure.’ He scowled darkly, the pieces of that particular puzzle becoming more obscure the deeper he delved into it. ‘It is a start at least,’ he muttered. ‘It may be that this butler has a niece of that name.’
‘I do not recall him ever mentioning one…’ A frown creased Diana’s creamy brow. ‘What is this woman to you, my lord?’
Gabriel became suddenly still. ‘Why should you assume she is anything to me?’
A delicate blush coloured her cheeks. ‘I thought, as you asked about her—’
‘Did you think that because I said the woman is young I must, either now or some time in the past, have had some personal interest in her?’ he queried with a gleam in his eyes she wasn’t at all sure of.
Diana had no idea what to think. In fact, this whole conversation was somewhat confusing to her. Indeed, she still felt slightly befuddled by her response to his kiss earlier and its abrupt and slightly hurtful ending.
She suddenly became aware how little she really knew of the man she had agreed to marry. She had believed him yesterday when he’d told her that he was not responsible for seducing that young girl and leaving her pregnant. However, she had to acknowledge that his past might appear in a somewhat different light to her if she were to learn that the allegedly wronged woman from eight years ago, and the one he now sought, were one and the same…
Chapter Four
Gabriel’s lids narrowed over glittering dark blue eyes as he watched the emotions flickering across Diana’s expressive face. Puzzlement. Alarm, quickly followed by wariness. ‘Well?’ he demanded harshly.
Her throat moved as she swallowed before speaking. ‘I have no idea what to think, my lord.’
‘Then perhaps it would be prudent if you were to remain silent on the subject until you do know,’ he rasped angrily. He had taken all the suspicion and accusations he could stand eight years ago. He had no intention of suffering them again from the young woman he intended to make his countess.
Even if that young woman had accepted nothing more than his word on it yesterday when he’d claimed his innocence of that past misdeed? his conscience whispered to him.
He eyed Diana in some frustration, nostrils flared, jaw clenched. He was not used to explaining himself to anyone, but…‘If you must know, I am seeking this woman in connection with a friend rather than having any interest in her myself,’ he said tautly.
‘A friend, my lord?’
Gabriel gave a humourless smile at her continued uncertainty. ‘Believe it or not, I do still possess some. Men who have remained loyal and true all these years despite what my family and society may have chosen to believe of me.’
Diana had not meant to imply otherwise; she had merely been curious to know who this young lady might be and exactly what she meant to Gabriel. For instance, could she be his mistress? When she had so coolly and practically decided to accept his offer of marriage, she had done so without consideration for the fact that he might already be involved with another woman And if he was, would he want to continue seeing her even after he married Diana?
Her aunt had mentioned to her how both the married men and women of society, once the heirs had been born, often chose to go their own way in regard to bed partners. That Diana’s own marriage might become so sordidly complicated was a situation she found too unpleasant to even contemplate.
‘I am glad to hear it.’ She gave an inclination of her head. ‘And you say it is for one of these friends that you are seeking this lady named Morton?’
‘I have said so, yes.’
She looked at him searchingly as she heard the challenge in his tone. A challenge that was reflected in the hard glitter of those midnight-blue eyes as they easily met her gaze. ‘Then I hope that your enquiries are successful.’
So did Gabriel. Otherwise Dominic could find himself married to the chit and socially ruined; having experienced that for himself, it was not something Gabriel would wish upon one of his closest friends.
That was not to say he would easily forget Diana’s suspicions of him just now…
‘You cannot possibly have become betrothed to such a disreputable rake as Gabriel Faulkner!’ Aunt Humphries goggled up at her from where she lay resting upon her chaise in the sitting room that adjoined her bedchamber.
A room Diana found both cluttered and hot, warmed as it was by both the fire in the hearth and the sun shining in through the huge bay window. ‘He is Lord Gabriel Faulkner, seventh Earl of Westbourne, now, Aunt,’ she said quietly.
‘Well…yes. And his mother was a gracious and lovely woman, to be sure…’
‘You were acquainted with Mrs Faulkner?’ Diana asked curiously.
‘Felicity Campbell-Smythe and I were the greatest of friends thirty years ago.’ Her aunt smiled affectionately at the memory of that friendship. ‘We lost touch when we both married, of course,’ she continued briskly. ‘But I recall that her son was involved in the most dreadful scandal some years ago—’
‘His lordship and I have spoken of that.’ Her tone was stiffly disapproving; she loved her aunt deeply and she’d helped to fill the place of the mother who had left them all those years ago. But even so, Diana did not intend to discuss Gabriel’s past with her or anyone else. He had spoken of the matter to her in confidence, and it was a confidence she would not, could not, break.
Her aunt sat up agitatedly, her greying blond curls bouncing about her thin and lined face. ‘But—’
‘It is not polite of us to discuss either Mrs Faulkner or the Earl in this way.’ Much as Diana might wish to learn more about Felicity Faulkner, she knew that to do so would only lead to more questions and comments about Gabriel from her aunt. ‘All that is important for now is that you know I am betrothed to him, and that we will very shortly be married.’
‘But—’
‘There is nothing more to be said on the subject, Aunt,’ she added firmly as she moved away from the chaise to stand in front of the window, looking out at the square below.
There was a nursemaid and her small charge in the park across the road and a footman walking a large black dog, with a maid hurrying along the pavement carrying several brown paper-wrapped parcels. All of them such normal, everyday occurrences. It was so very strange when Diana felt as if her own life would never again be what she had considered normal…
She was to be married soon. Was to become the wife of
the forceful and arrogant Earl of Westbourne. The changes in her life had started before that, of course. They had begun with the death of her father six and a half months ago. If not for that, Gabriel would not have inherited the title. There would have been no reason for her sisters to have run away from home. No reason for Diana to have agreed to marry a man she did not know and who did not know her either.
How strange fate was. How fickle. A few months ago, Diana’s life had seemed settled. Malcolm Castle would become her husband, and after their wedding they would reside in the gatehouse to Castle Manor, only moving into the manor itself after Malcolm’s own father had died.
Diana had been able to envisage it all in her mind’s eye. Her future, certain and sure, stretching out before her. She would marry Malcolm. They would have several children together, followed by grandchildren. With her two sisters also perhaps married to men who lived locally, the three of them would meet often to gossip and laugh together.
Instead, Diana now found herself in London. Malcolm was to marry another woman and was no longer even a part of her life. Her two sisters were missing, heaven knew where. And she was betrothed to a man of mercurial moods at best, and cold and unapproachable at worst.
A handsome and exciting man, whom she privately admitted caused her pulse to race just by being in the same room with her…
‘Is it bad news, my lord?’
Gabriel scowled as he looked up from the letter he had been reading to see Diana standing in the doorway of the study. It was one of the many letters and visiting cards that had been delivered to the house since the announcement of their betrothal in the newspapers two days ago.
Diana had not been in evidence when he’d returned late that afternoon from yet another fruitless attempt to locate the missing Copeland sisters, an enquiry from Soames eliciting the information that she was with the housekeeper consulting on the menus for the week. Menus that would no doubt have to be changed once he had sifted through the invitations that had arrived these past two days and decided which, if any, of the social engagements they would attend.
For himself, Gabriel had absolutely no interest in attending any social functions, having no wish to place himself in the position of being the visible focus of the ton’s gossip. But to refuse them all would be unfair to Diana when he knew she had lived all of her one-and-twenty years shut away from the class of people to which she rightly belonged. Bad enough that she was to become the wife of the scandalous Gabriel Faulkner, without, as her father had already done, denying her the company of her peers.
‘It’s not news that concerns either of your sisters, if that is your worry.’ Gabriel placed the letter he had been reading down upon the desk in front of him as he looked at her with appreciation.
She wore a gown of pale and misty blue, the red lights in her hair seeming more prominent against its muted colour. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, with a bright sparkle to those sky-blue eyes, the whole endowing her with a vibrancy of beauty that was extremely easy on Gabriel’s somewhat jaundiced eye.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Perhaps we might begin discussing the arrangements for the wedding? I had thought next week would be—’
‘Next week!’ she echoed breathlessly, those blue eyes widening.
Gabriel frowned. ‘You said you had no objections to it taking place shortly?’
‘And I do not,’ she explained. ‘It is only that I had not thought to be married until after we have found my two sisters.’
Gabriel sighed. ‘But we have no idea when that might be.’
Diana looked unhappy. ‘You were again unsuccessful in your enquiries?’
He stood up impatiently. ‘It would seem that your two sisters have succeeded in appearing to have completely disappeared from the face of the earth—I trust you are not about to faint, Diana?’ Gabriel said as he swiftly crossed the room in three long strides to grasp the tops of her arms as she swayed.
He cursed himself for speaking so frankly to her about her sisters. His mood had been terse and irritable for the past two days as he first went about the business of retaining a new lawyer after dispensing with William Johnston’s services—but not before Gabriel had first left the other man in no doubts as to his displeasure concerning his treatment of the Copeland sisters. That had been followed by the seeking out of half a dozen of the men who had once served with him in his regiment and instructing them to search every inch of London for the two missing women.
He had risked having lunch at his old club today too, not a wise decision as it turned out, as he was forced to fend off the curiosity of several of the other members who had obviously been instructed by their wives to elicit whatever information they could about him and his bride-to-be.
Returning to another avalanche of invitations and letters—and one of those letters in particular—had not improved his temper, with the result that now he had upset Diana.
She shook her head in denial, her face still very pale. ‘My sisters have to be somewhere!’
Gabriel’s hands dropped back to his sides as he stepped away from her. ‘Indeed they do,’ he reassured her heartily, although privately he was not sure that ‘somewhere’ necessarily had to be in London. He had been thinking that Diana revealing the butler at Shoreley Park was named Morton was surely too much of a coincidence to actually be one. ‘Tell me, Diana, do either of your sisters sing?’
She looked a little bewildered by the question. ‘I—they both do. Caroline has the finer voice of the two, but they are both perfectly competent. Why do you ask?’
‘I merely wish to know as much about them both as possible,’ Gabriel said vaguely, storing this piece of information away with the rest of what he now knew of Caroline and Elizabeth Copeland. Information, on Caroline at least, that was leading him to a conclusion he could barely credit!
‘Of course,’ Diana accepted ruefully. ‘I am very grateful for all your help in this delicate matter.’
His mouth compressed grimly. ‘Time enough for thanks once they have both been found.’
Something Diana was beginning to doubt might ever happen. She had been in London a week now without any success; it really did seem, as Gabriel had pointed out so succinctly, as if Caroline and Elizabeth had completely disappeared from the face of the earth!
She firmly dismissed such negativity from her mind. Her sisters would both be found, safe and sound. ‘You seemed…distracted by your letter, when I first came in, my lord,’ she commented.
‘Did I?’ A shutter seemed to come down over his face before he turned to stroll back to the desk. ‘Perhaps it is at the thought of having to reply to all these letters and invitations,’ he said drily.
There were indeed a large number of them; Diana had been surprised at just how much correspondence had been delivered this past two days when Gabriel had been ignored for all these years. The sheer volume of post seemed to indicate his past sins had indeed been forgiven, if not totally forgotten, now that he was the wealthy Earl of Westbourne.
She sighed. ‘Perhaps we should just refuse them all? With my sisters still missing, I do not feel particularly sociable, and we have the added excuse that I am still in mourning for my father.’
Gabriel leant back against the desk as he regarded Diana through narrowed lids. She was a beautiful and gracious young woman, and would no doubt make something of a stir in society. Amongst the males, especially—the women, old as well as young, would no doubt envy her beauty. A beauty that deserved to be seen, if not touched…
‘No, I am afraid we cannot do that, Diana.’ He groaned inwardly at the thought of the posing and posturing he would no doubt be forced to endure during these necessary forays into the ton’s ballrooms. ‘It is over six months since your father died and our betrothal has been announced. We will have to attend some of the quieter social events together, at least.’ He stood up to resume his seat behind the desk, his expression becoming grim as he once again glanced at one of the letters he had received today.
Diana m
oved closer to the desk. ‘Will you not share your news with me, my lord?’
Should he show her the letter that had so disturbed him? Perhaps it was better that she have absolutely no illusions about the man that he was and would continue to be once they were married? ‘It would appear that the announcement of our betrothal in the newspapers has not just alerted the ton to my presence here at Westbourne House.’ He held up the letter.
Diana gave him a searching look before taking the single sheet of notepaper from him, able to sense the tension in his lithe and athletic body. She glanced down at the signature at the bottom of the letter she held, but was none the wiser for reading that signature. ‘Who is Alice Britton?’
‘She was my mother’s companion.’
Diana raised one silky brow. ‘Was?’
He gave a terse inclination of his head. ‘It would seem she retired some months ago and is now living in Eastbourne.’
She quickly read the contents of the letter, very soon realising the reason for Gabriel’s tension. ‘We must both prepare to travel into Cambridgeshire immediately—’
‘No.’
She gave him a startled glance. ‘Of course, I will understand if you would prefer that I not accompany you—’
‘Diana, whether I would prefer you to accompany me is of absolutely no relevance when I have absolutely no intentions of going anywhere near Cambridgeshire, now or in the future.’ Gabriel’s expression remained grim as he began to pace the room.
‘I—but Miss Britton says that your mother’s health was fragile when she last saw her four months ago.’
His eyes glittered as he glared at her. ‘Then my rushing into Cambridgeshire to see her would only result in making it even more so.’
Diana realised he believed that statement to be the truth. She just found it hard to accept that his own mother would not want to see him if her health was so poor. ‘I am sure you are mistaken, Gabriel—’
The Lady Forfeits Page 6
