The Lady Forfeits

by Carole Mortimer

  Nevertheless…‘I am not in the habit of discussing my movements, or lack of them, with anyone.’

  ‘Indeed?’ She gave an inelegant snort. ‘Might I suggest, where Diana is concerned at least, that you become used to it?’

  Gabriel raised arrogant brows. ‘You suggest?’

  ‘Insist,’ she said crisply.

  ‘As I thought.’ Gabriel suppressed a small smile as he turned fully into the room, the afternoon sunlight warm upon his back, a warmth that did nothing to dispel the coldness of the anger he felt towards Diana.

  He was also, he acknowledged ruefully, still somewhat nonplussed at having learnt of her departure for Faulkner Manor. The years he had spent as an officer in the King’s army had resulted in his being used to issuing orders and having them obeyed. That the woman he had been betrothed to for only six days, a beautiful and elegantly composed young woman whom he knew to possess a regard for duty far beyond her years, had none the less completely disregarded his wishes was beyond belief.

  Perhaps he should have taken more notice of Diana’s previous remark concerning having the word ‘obey’ removed from their wedding vows!

  ‘Well?’

  Gabriel frowned as he refocused his attention on Diana’s sister. ‘As I have already stated, I see no reason to explain myself, to you or to anyone else.’

  She gave an exasperated sigh. ‘You are as stubbornly proud as Dominic.’

  He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘No doubt the reason we have remained friends for so many years.’

  ‘No doubt,’ she muttered. ‘Your own shortcomings aside, it is Diana who concerns me.’

  He looked taken aback at this second insult in as many minutes. ‘I fail to understand why?’

  Sea-green eyes flashed her impatience as she stepped further into the room. ‘Perhaps you are not aware of it, but my sister has always put her own desires and needs aside in favour of others—’

  ‘Considering your own recent actions, I am surprised to hear that you are at all aware of Diana’s selflessness!’ Gabriel’s mouth was tight with disapproval.

  Warmth coloured her cheeks at this more-than-obvious rebuke concerning her own recent waywardness. ‘How could I not be aware of it when it is obviously the only reason she has agreed to marry you?’

  Dark eyes narrowed in warning. ‘Have a care, Caroline.’ His voice was silkily soft. ‘I have deliberately not mentioned your own recent scandalous behaviour in running off and becoming a singer in a gambling club to Diana, because of her deep love for you and my own friendship with Blackstone, but I assure you—both those things will cease to matter if you continue to berate me in this unacceptable way.’

  The colour as quickly faded from her cheeks, but she gamely continued. ‘I know little or nothing of past happenings, of course, but you cannot seriously mean to leave Diana to face your family alone!’

  ‘I believe I would be perfectly within my rights to do so when she has so blatantly disobeyed my wishes,’ Gabriel drawled back. ‘But, no,’ he relented at Caroline’s outraged expression, ‘that is not my intention.’ He had known from the moment he read her letter earlier that he would have to follow her, that by lingering in London in this way he was only putting off the inevitable.

  ‘Oh?’ Caroline now looked less certain of her indignation on her sister’s behalf.

  Gabriel explained. ‘Even as we speak my horse is being saddled in preparation for my own departure.’

  Caroline visibly relaxed the tension in her shoulders. ‘Why did you not just say so immediately I came in the room?’

  Gabriel gave a rueful smile. ‘You seemed so determined to be outraged on Diana’s behalf that I did not like to disappoint.’

  She tossed her head. ‘You and Dominic are so much alike you could be brothers!’

  He grinned. ‘Considering that you and he are shortly to be married, I will take that as a compliment.’

  ‘I should not if I were you,’ Caroline said honestly. ‘A certain arrogance in one’s beloved may be acceptable, but it is not so attractive in the man set to marry one’s sister.’

  ‘I will try to bear that in mind,’ Gabriel replied, inwardly warmed by Caroline’s obvious love for her sister and her open declaration of loving Dominic as much as he loved her; it boded well for a marriage between the two.

  She eyed him uncertainly. ‘I trust you will not be too displeased with Diana when you see her again?’

  He gave her a straight look. ‘On the contrary, Caroline—I am very much looking forward to demonstrating the depths of my displeasure to your sister.’ He was anticipating that very much indeed!

  Diana was cold, tired, and feeling extremely irritable by the time the carriage came to a halt at the end of the long gravel drive in front of Faulkner Manor early on the second evening after her hasty departure from Westbourne House.

  The cold and tiredness were explained by the long hours of travelling in the carriage whilst the rain fell steadily outside, that rain dampening her pelisse and bonnet when they risked a brief stop at a reputable roadside inn in order to enjoy a light luncheon.

  The reason for the feelings of irritation lay firmly upon Gabriel Faulkner’s broad shoulders.

  Her initial nervousness at the thought of his anger, once he discovered where she had gone, had first changed to relief when there came no sound of the thundering of horse’s hooves in angry pursuit. But that relief had then turned to puzzlement as a day and night passed, and then another day, still with no sign of him. Finally, she had become irritated when she had to accept that he really had decided not to follow her.

  She had felt sure he would—so why hadn’t he? Obviously their betrothal was a matter of convenience for both of them, but nevertheless she had believed any gentleman’s sense of honour would dictate he at least show loyalty to the woman he intended to make his wife.

  Apparently in Gabriel’s case that sense of honour did not come into play when it might involve seeing any of his family again. What was she to say to them concerning his absence? To his mother?

  She came to an abrupt halt as the groom offered his hand to assist her in stepping down from the carriage, her senses suddenly humming as she became aware, alerted, by a feeling of—of something—

  It was pure instinct that caused her to turn and look down the length of the gravel drive, her cheeks paling, eyes widening, as she saw the huge black stallion silhouetted there in the last of the sun’s evening rays, the rider upon its back equally as huge and daunting and dressed all in black, with his hat pulled low over his brow and his black cloak swirling behind him.

  Diana knew with certainty the identity of that rider. Gabriel!

  Even as she stood in arrested stillness, a sheet of lightning flashed across the darkening sky behind him and caused the horse to rear up on its back legs, clearly revealing his face, accusing dark eyes visible beneath the brim of his hat, his expression stony as the horse’s hooves clattered back down upon the gravel.

  The horse galloped towards where she stood, its rider bent low upon its back, giving him the appearance of the archangel of the same name about to swoop down vengefully upon his enemy.

  Diana…

  It had been Gabriel’s hope that he would succeed in meeting up with Diana before she arrived at Faulkner Manor and, in doing so, prevent either of them going there. Unfortunately his malingering in London meant that was not the case. He easily recognised the black coach that had come to a halt—he should; it was now one of his own and bore the Westbourne crest of an angel and a rampant unicorn upon its doors. A groom wearing the Westbourne livery had opened one of the doors, lowered the steps and was waiting to assist Diana in alighting from the carriage.

  She turned a startled face in Gabriel’s direction even as she stepped down on to the gravel, blue eyes widening with alarm as she obviously recognised him seated upon the back of the glossy black stallion.

  An alarm she would find was well deserved as soon as the two of them were alone together, he thought in grim
satisfaction!

  It had been a long and uncomfortable ride from London, despite an overnight stay at a mediocre inn, and he was now tired and hungry and very wet; it had been raining for most of the day, but the heavens had opened up completely five miles back, and succeeded in soaking him through to the skin in the process.

  But none of those things were as unpleasant to him as finding himself back at Faulkner Manor after all these years. Nor was he in any doubt as to who was to blame for that.

  Lady Diana Copeland. The woman to whom he had recently become betrothed. The interfering young lady who would very shortly be made aware of the penalty for disobeying him…

  Gabriel pulled Maximilian to a halt mere feet away from her before sliding from the saddle to throw the reins into the hands of the waiting groom. He marched across to where she still stood in transfixed alarm beside the coach, her eyes becoming wider still as he reached out and grasped her arm.

  The length of her creamy throat moved convulsively as she swallowed before speaking. ‘How good it is to see you, my lord, when I had thought you said that commitments in town would not allow you to join me until tomorrow.’ Her voice was smoothly composed, despite her obvious discomfort.

  This last was said for the listening servants, Gabriel knew. As far as Diana was aware, he had not intended coming with her at all; indeed, he still wished himself anywhere but here! ‘I could not bear to be parted from you for even so short a time,’ he replied to save her face. ‘Especially when you took it upon yourself to bring most of my clothes with you,’ he grated for her ears alone.

  Diana knew that his initial words must sound lover-like to those listening, but there was no missing the promise of retribution in his next comment, or those dark and piercing eyes that glittered down at her so intently. ‘I am gratified to know you feel that way, my lord.’

  ‘Let us hope that you feel as gratified once we are alone together,’ he murmured.

  Diana’s nervousness grew. ‘Did you not receive my letter of explanation?’

  ‘I would not be here at all if I had not,’ he bit out.

  ‘Then—’

  ‘What on earth is all the fuss about? Good God, is that you, Gabriel?’ a female voice said.

  Gabriel gave Diana one last quelling glance before a shutter came down over all his emotions as he turned to look at the obviously shocked young woman who was standing at the top of the steps leading up to the house, only the tightening of his fingers upon her arm betraying that he was not as composed as the blank expression on his face meant to imply.

  Diana turned slowly to look up at the woman who still gazed at Gabriel with utter disbelief.

  She was young, possibly only a few years older than Diana’s one and twenty, and possessed of a smooth perfection of beauty: a wide and creamy brow, fine brown eyes, a small and perfect nose, her lips full above a delicately vulnerable jaw. Her hair was a pure raven-black and arranged in fashionable curls and the slenderness of her figure was shown to full advantage in a fashionable gown of pale peach.

  ‘Your powers of perception have not failed you, madam,’ Gabriel said smoothly, answering the other woman.

  Her cheeks paled even as she fought for composure in the face of his biting sarcasm. ‘I see that the years have done little to reduce your unbearable arrogance.’

  ‘Did you expect them to have done?’

  ‘I did not expect to see you at all!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Obviously not,’ he murmured.

  The woman glared at him. ‘If you had bothered to inform us of your visit, then I would have told you that you are not welcome here.’

  A nerve pulsed in Gabriel’s rigidly clenched jaw. ‘For some inexplicable reason I seem to have had several conversations recently concerning my lack of need to inform anyone of my actions.’

  Diana knew that was a little dig at her, too…

  ‘If you would not mind?’ He now eyed the other woman coldly. ‘Diana and I will join you in the house in a moment.’ It was unmistakably a dismissal.

  The young woman looked as if she were about to continue arguing his right to enter the house at all, but then obviously thought better of it after another glance at his expression, instead satisfying herself with one last glare before turning away to hurry back inside.

  Diana could only surmise that the haughty young beauty was another of Gabriel’s relatives—perhaps the daughter of Mrs and Mrs Charles Prescott? Her manner towards Gabriel had certainly been familiar—and insulting—enough to be that of a cousin.

  ‘All will shortly be revealed, Diana,’ Gabriel assured her as the threatening rain began to fall once again. He took her arm and began to swiftly ascend the steps.

  ‘But—careful, Gabriel!’ Diana protested as she hastened to accommodate those steps and instead stumbled over the hem of her gown.

  Gabriel’s impatience, his anger, was such that he was beyond being reasoned with. Diana had brought them both into this scorpions’ den, and he had little sympathy for her if she now found his resentment not to her liking. ‘I am already very wet and weary from spending unnecessary hours in the saddle; I would advise you not to add another soaking to my list of discomforts.’

  She pulled her now-soiled skirts away from her slippered feet before looking up at him from beneath lowered lashes. ‘I can see that you are angry with me, Gabriel, but I assure you I thought only of you when I decided to come here.’

  ‘On the contrary, I believe you to have acted completely without regard or consideration towards my feelings when you made that decision,’ he corrected her curtly, not so much as sparing her another glance as he pulled her up the last of the steps.

  She gasped. ‘How can you possibly say that when I abandoned my search for Elizabeth in order to come here?’

  ‘So that I would not be beset with guilt and regret when I one day learn of my mother’s demise,’ he reminded her witheringly.

  ‘Yes.’

  Gabriel’s eyes glittered down at her darkly. ‘That was my decision to make, not yours.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I will allow you plenty of time later in which to explain yourself.’

  She felt the sting of icy coldness in his tone. ‘With any intention of actually listening to what I have to say?’

  ‘Probably not.’

  ‘Then I see little point—’

  ‘Will you, for the love of God, just be silent, Diana!’ he said, coming to a sudden halt, his breathing harsh as he paused outside the home he had left so ignominiously eight years ago.

  The anger he had felt towards Diana had sustained him through the arduous journey into Cambridgeshire, as he’d mentally listed the many and varied ways in which he intended to make her suffer for putting him to the trouble of following her here. To now find himself standing outside the front door of the home he had been so cruelly banished from, the family he had never thought to return to, filled him with a desolation that struck to his very heart.

  ‘Gabriel?’ Diana could not help but feel concerned at the bleakness of his expression as he gazed up at the house that had once been his home. Their acquaintance was of such a nature that it had been fraught with tension from the onset, but as she now looked up into the face above her own she knew that this man was not even the arrogant and dictatorial one she had known for the past six days, but one who was a complete stranger to her…

  She swallowed hard, knowing in that moment that she should not have forced Gabriel into following her here, that by doing so she had painfully lanced an old and festering wound that would have been better left alone. ‘It was never my intention to cause you discomfort, my lord,’ she whispered.

  ‘Your apology comes too late and is too little, Diana.’ Gabriel looked down at her with the eyes of the stranger he now seemed to her. ‘There is no turning back or away now,’ he muttered for her ears alone before taking the step forwards that would take them both inside the house.

  As Diana stepped inside the cavernous marble entrance hall, she was
instantly struck by a chill that sent rivulets of cold down her spine. It was not a chill of temperature, but of atmosphere, as if the very walls of the house had absorbed a malignance of spirit for so long and so intensely that it now existed in the very fabric of the bricks and mortar of which it was built.

  Which was in itself fanciful; bricks and mortar did not absorb emotions, any more than could the opulent statuary and paintings upon the walls, she told herself. It had to be her own tiredness and hunger—and not a little trepidation at the thought of the promised conversation with Gabriel when they once again found themselves alone together—that was to blame for these imaginings.

  Nevertheless, Diana found herself holding the folds of her cloak more tightly about her in an effort to ward off that chill.

  ‘Is my mother well?’ Gabriel rasped as the darkhaired beauty hurried down the wide and sweeping staircase, her beautiful face slightly flushed from the exertion.

  She ignored his question and instead spoke to the waiting butler as she reached the bottom of the staircase. ‘Bring tea to the brown salon, if you please, Reeve.’

  ‘Bring tea for the ladies by all means, Reeve, but I would prefer something stronger,’ Gabriel turned to address the butler, at the same time noting that the passing of the years had not been kind to the elderly man; he looked twenty years older rather than the eight it had been since Gabriel last saw him.

  Nevertheless there was a warmth of welcome in the butler’s gaze as he realised Gabriel’s identity. ‘Very good, my lord.’

  ‘And have the green-and-gold bedchambers prepared for both Lady Diana and myself,’ Gabriel added as he handed his hat and cloak to him, along with Diana’s cloak and bonnet.

  ‘You cannot just walk in here and issue instruction to the servants as if you owned the place!’ the woman exclaimed.

  ‘I believe it is my mother who still owns Faulkner Manor?’

  ‘I—yes.’

  ‘Then do it, please, Reeve,’ Gabriel said before once again turning his glacial gaze on the dark-haired beauty, who glared at him so resentfully. ‘I suggest, madam, that we continue this conversation where it is warmer.’