The Lady Forfeits

by Carole Mortimer

  His very physical presence took her breath away. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You appear to be shredding the tassels on that cushion,’ he drawled as he stepped into the room. ‘I felt sure it must have offended you in some way.’

  Diana looked down at the cushion she cradled on her knees, having had no idea it was even there until he’d brought it to her attention. Or that she had pulled so agitatedly on the silk tassels at its corner that the majority of those silks now lay in a tangle beside her on the blue-velvet chaise.

  She hurriedly placed the cushion down on top of that tangle before standing up. ‘What can I do for you, my lord?’

  What, alone together in her bedchamber, could she not do for him? He wondered in despair. The ache he felt becoming a physical discomfort as he hardened with the need to take her in his arms and finally make proper love to her.

  A totally ridiculous desire when the evidence of her recent tears was there in the heavy darkness of her eyes and the dampness of her creamy cheeks. When her mouth, those full and kissable lips, seemed to tremble slightly before she set them firmly together and raised her chin to present him once more with that familiar air of cool composure.

  Gabriel moved to stand before the window that looked out over the square at the front of the house. ‘You must be pleased to find yourself back in London?’ he commented.

  Must she? Why must she? Diana could think of absolutely no reason, other than continuing the search for Elizabeth—a sister who obviously had no wish to be found!

  Nor did she appreciate him seeing her in this way, the evidence of her tears no doubt apparent to him. Although she was firm in her resolve that he should never know the reason for them: because she was so certain that, now that they were back in London, he would waste no time in ending their betrothal.

  Her back straightened as if her body was in preparation for a blow. ‘It is certainly pleasant to be united with at least one of my sisters.’

  Gabriel turned to face her. ‘I assure you that Vaughn and I will continue our search for Elizabeth, leaving no stone unturned.’

  ‘I implied no criticism of either you or Lord Vaughn, my lord,’ she said quickly.

  The sunlight shining in the window behind him gave his hair a blue-black sheen, and threw the grimness of his expression into shadow. ‘No?’ He quirked one dark brow. ‘Then perhaps there should have been. Dominic has obviously been unsuccessful this past week, whilst I have been deeply occupied with other matters.’

  She gave an acknowledging inclination of her head. ‘I perfectly understood that the continuing welfare of your mother was of greater importance to you at that time.’

  A frown creased his brow. ‘It is a part of the warmth and caring of your nature to always be so concerned with the happiness of others.’

  Was it? She was no longer sure. How could she be, when at this moment it was thoughts of her own unhappiness that consumed her? When the certainty of Gabriel having come here to ask her to release him from their betrothal made her feel as if her heart were shattering into so many pieces she might never be able to put it back together again?

  She loved him…

  Diana could deny it no longer. Could ignore it no longer. She was irrevocably in love with Lord Gabriel Faulkner, the Earl of Westbourne. The knowledge that Malcolm Castle had reappeared in her life had suddenly crystallised her feelings sharply for her. The only man in the world for her was Gabriel and a huge tidal wave of emotions swept over her every time she so much as looked at him. She wanted to reach out and touch him. To be gathered into his arms and kissed by him. To be held by him and know that he would never let her go.

  When letting her go was no doubt exactly what he had come here to do…

  She could see it in the dark regret in his eyes, in the resignation of his expression, in his restlessness of movement as he began to pace her bedchamber. No doubt seeking, searching, for the appropriate words in which to tell her he no longer wished to marry her.

  It was a further indignity Diana found she could not even bear to contemplate. She drew herself up proudly, her face pale. ‘I believe it is the correct procedure in situations such as ours for the lady to be seen to end the betrothal?’

  Gabriel drew in a sharp breath before once again turning to stare sightlessly out of the window, an icy chill filling his chest at finally hearing her ask to be released from her promise to him. At the thought of having to stand back and watch as she gave all of the warmth and caring of her nature into the keeping of someone else. Of having to witness her marrying another man—even to give her away in church!

  Gabriel had entered into their engagement without a care as to which of the Copeland sisters should accept his offer of marriage in the erroneous belief that one young woman would do equally as well as another. He now knew just how totally false that was. There was no other woman like Diana. No other woman with her warmth and tenderness of heart. Her loyalty. Her care for duty. As for her courage—he believed she would challenge the devil himself, if she had need to, and never count the cost to herself.

  Because it was what Diana did. What she had done unstintingly for the past ten years, for her family and others, regardless of her own happiness. And it was what she would no doubt continue to do if he did not agree to release her from their betrothal…

  He could not ask that of her. Would not ask that of her.

  How painfully ironic that he, a man who had lived the last few years of his life with almost complete disregard for the feelings of others, could not bear to be the reason that Diana should suffer even another moment of unhappiness.

  He turned to give her a stiff nod of agreement, lids lowered guardedly over any emotion in his eyes. ‘I will see to placing the announcement in the newspapers tomorrow, or the day after at the very latest, if that will suit?’ No doubt he would have to place another announcement in those newspapers a day or so after that, this time announcing Diana’s betrothal to that cur Castle!

  Her eyes were a deep and shadowed blue in the pallor of her face. ‘I would appreciate that, my lord.’

  He nodded tersely. ‘Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me?’

  What else could there possibly be? she wondered numbly. Gabriel no longer wanted her as his wife or anything else—what else could possibly have any meaning? All the things she had longed to say to him this past five days, the anger and hurt that had been steadily building inside her, had all dissolved into sheer numbness at the occurrence of the very thing she had been dreading.

  The end of their engagement. There was nothing else—only an unending agony of emotions that threatened to bring Diana to her knees. She needed him to leave so she could break down and cry without him knowing. ‘There is nothing else I wish to say, my lord,’ she lied woodenly.

  ‘Very well.’ He walked to the door.

  Suddenly, confusingly, Diana could not bear to see him leave. ‘You—it was very kind of you to arrange for Miss Britton to be here to welcome your mother.’

  He came to a halt and turned with a humourless smile. ‘You did not believe me capable of kindness?’

  She looked appalled. ‘I—that’s not what I meant! I know that you are.’

  His mouth twisted. ‘Just not where you are concerned?’

  She swore she could hear her heart breaking ‘I consider it a great kindness to have released me from our betrothal,’ she choked.

  ‘So it is.’ His nostrils flared as his mouth thinned, the expression in the dark blue of his eyes now unreadable. ‘If you will excuse me, Diana, I really am very busy.’ He left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

  As firmly as Diana knew that his heart was, and ever would be, closed to her.

  ‘You are going out?’

  Diana came to a halt in the cavernous hallway of Westbourne House the following morning, turning away from where Soames stood ready to open the front door for her own and her maid’s departure, to instead face Gabriel as he stood framed in the doorway of his study,
knowing that the bonnet and burgundy-coloured pelisse she wore over her cream-and-burgundy-coloured sprigged-muslin gown should have been evidence enough of her going out. ‘I intended to go to the shops, my lord,’ she nevertheless answered him coolly. ‘Your mother is perfectly happy in the company of my aunt and Alice, if that is your concern?’

  Gabriel was well aware of his mother’s preoccupation, both with the return of her companion, and the reunion with her old friend Dorothea Humphries—a woman he had finally been introduced to yesterday and who seemed to view him more kindly now that he had brought her friend home with him.

  Even if he had not been aware of his mother’s happiness, his immediate concern was not for his mother, but more for the chasm that had only widened between himself and Diana since they had agreed to end to their betrothal last night.

  ‘Perhaps we might talk in private for a few minutes before you go out?’ he asked softly.

  That was the very last thing she wished to do, especially as he was looking more devastatingly handsome than usual in a fashionable superfine of chocolate brown, a gold-and-cream waistcoat buttoned over the flatness of his stomach, with cream pantaloons and brown Hessians fitting snugly to the muscled length of his legs.

  She swallowed before answering. ‘Can it not wait until I have returned, my lord?’

  He frowned slightly. ‘I would rather it be now.’

  ‘Very well.’ She turned to request that her maid wait for her here before she preceded Gabriel into his study. She stood just inside the room as he closed the door behind him and then went to stand behind his mahogany desk. ‘I trust it is something important that you feel the need to interrupt a lady who only wishes to shop!’ Her attempt at humour sounded flat to her own ears, but she could see by the tightening of his mouth that he did not appreciate even that effort. And it was an effort to try to appear even remotely like her usual composed self after a night of sobbing uncontrollably into her pillow. She had excused herself from having dinner downstairs with the rest of the family on a plea of lingering tiredness from her journey. She had requested breakfast in her room this morning for the same reason. Knowing this avoidance of his company could not continue indefinitely, Diana had finally decided to take herself out of the house completely for a few hours, but even that had been foiled by Gabriel.

  ‘You have news of Elizabeth, perhaps?’ She looked hopefully across the imposing desk at him.

  ‘I am afraid not,’ Gabriel frowned. ‘I had thought, as you have been so involved in the matter, that you might be interested to learn what progress has been made in regard to the Prescotts?’

  Her brow cleared. ‘You have managed to ascertain their whereabouts?’

  ‘Not yet.’ His jaw tightened. ‘But with Vaughn’s help and resources, I have managed to learn more of my uncle’s debts, at least.’ He suddenly looked uncomfortable at having revealed that knowledge about Dominic to her.

  Diana gave a rueful smile. ‘Do not concern yourself, my lord; I spoke with Caroline earlier this morning and I am now fully conversant with Lord Vaughn’s ownership of one of London’s better-known gambling establishments!’ Caroline had visited her bedchamber after breakfast and confessed all in regard to the weeks she had spent alone in London. Despite her sister having ended up embarking on a brief stint singing in Lord Vaughn’s club, which Diana admitted was far from ideal, she had nevertheless realised that Caroline had been fortunate indeed to land in such a safe pair of hands.

  Gabriel quirked a dark brow. ‘You are?’

  ‘Yes.’ Diana gave a rueful smile at the memory of the shocking tale Caroline had to tell. ‘I am very grateful to Lord Vaughn for looking after my sister so well.’

  ‘As am I,’ he said grimly.

  Diana bristled defensively. ‘Caroline is very young.’

  ‘She is not much younger than you are,’ he pointed out.

  ‘In years, perhaps,’ she conceded. ‘I trust that upbraiding me for not maintaining more control over my sister’s actions was not one of the reasons you asked to speak with me?’

  ‘God, no!’ Gabriel exclaimed. ‘I defy anyone to maintain control over that particular young lady.’

  ‘Even Lord Vaughn?’ Diana teased.

  His expression softened into a genuine smile. ‘Vaughn seems to relish the challenge.’

  Diana felt her cheeks warm at thoughts of the effective tactics Lord Vaughn might use in order to put an end to Caroline’s challenges any time it suited him. ‘You were about to tell me something of the Prescotts, I believe?’

  He nodded. ‘With Vaughn’s inside knowledge into the gambling world, I have managed to ascertain the exact extent of my uncle’s debts.’

  ‘They are considerable?’

  ‘They are enormous,’ he admitted.

  Diana shook her head. ‘But that does not excuse his or his wife’s treatment of your mother.’

  ‘No, it most certainly does not!’ Having nothing and no one else to turn his frustrations upon, as Gabriel could not bring himself to feel in the least angry towards Diana for ending their betrothal if it meant she secured her own happiness, he was instead concentrating all of his efforts on finding his uncle and his wife.

  ‘Was that all you wished to tell me, my lord?’

  It was all that he could tell her! Having spent most of the previous night thinking about her, Gabriel knew he was no nearer to accepting the end of their engagement than he was to bearing the thought of her being in love with another man.

  Because he wished to have Diana’s love for himself.

  Oh, he ached to make love to her again, but that was not all that he wanted from her. He also wanted her gentleness. Her warmth. Her courage and her dignity. Nor did he believe for a moment that Castle was deserving of the unique and beautiful woman that was Diana. Any more than Gabriel believed that he was worthy of those things either.

  ‘Is that not enough?’ he rasped.

  ‘Of course,’ she accepted coolly, any hopes—futile hopes, admittedly—that he might have reconsidered his decision concerning the ending of their betrothal totally dashed. ‘If there is nothing else, I should like to be on my way.’

  Gabriel returned her gaze wordlessly for several seconds before turning away. ‘No, there is nothing else. Except…’

  Diana raised golden brows. ‘Yes?’

  Gabriel clenched his jaw to stop himself from saying words he should not, words that begged her to change her mind about him. ‘What would you like me to say to Castle if he should call again this morning?’

  ‘The truth, of course.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘That I am out,’ she said before quietly leaving the study.

  Once again he could not help but admire her pride and dignity; she had obviously decided she did not intend to make it at all easy for Castle to believe he might recapture her affections.

  When, as Gabriel knew perfectly well, her affections for the man had remained constant and unchanging…

  Diana had absolutely no idea where she went or what she did for at least the first half an hour after she left Westbourne House, the carriage ride passing as if in a haze. Then, once at the shops, she found it an effort just placing one slippered foot in front of the other. So lost in thought was she, so mired down by the inner misery she suffered at the futility of the love she felt for Gabriel, that it took some seconds to recognise the familiar face she saw pressed against the window of a passing carriage…

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Beg pardon, my lord, but I have an urgent message to deliver from my mistress.’

  In the hour since Diana had left the house Gabriel had not so much as looked at any of the work that had accumulated on his desk after almost a week’s absence. Instead he had spent that time composing the announcement of his broken betrothal before throwing it to one side and then sitting behind his desk in brooding contemplation of the shiny toes of his boots as he rested his feet on the desktop in front of him.

  He turned now to frown at the young
maid who stood so hesitant and uncomfortable in the doorway. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Lady Diana said I was to tell you—’

  ‘Lady Diana?’ Gabriel echoed sharply, his feet falling heavily to the floor as he sat forwards in the chair. ‘You are Lady Diana’s maid?’ Actually, he recognised her now from that night in his mother’s bedchamber at the Manor.

  ‘I am, my lord, yes. And—’

  ‘Did you not leave to go shopping with her just an hour ago?’

  ‘I did, sir, yes—’

  ‘Your mistress has returned from shopping and wishes you to relay a message to me?’ Had it come to such a sorry state of affairs between the two of them that Diana did not even feel she could come and speak to him herself?

  ‘No, my lord. Yes, my lord. That is—’ the young woman looked slightly discomposed ‘—Lady Diana does wish me to give you a message, but she has not yet returned from shopping.’

  ‘Then why the devil are you not still with her?’ Gabriel demanded as he stood up.

  That discomposure turned to a look of panic. ‘She sent me back to the house, my lord.’

  ‘And you left her alone in the middle of London, without a chaperon? Unless she was not alone,’ he added as the thought of Malcolm Castle suddenly occurred to him. He scowled as he envisaged Diana’s quiet dignity as she listened to her erstwhile suitor’s pleas for understanding, to his declarations of having loved her all along.

  ‘Oh, she was alone, my lord. But—’

  ‘Come in and shut the door, girl,’ Gabriel instructed. ‘Now, explain, if you please.’

  The maid’s hands were tightly gripped together in front of her as she eyed him nervously. ‘It was the woman in the carriage, my lord. Lady Diana saw her and we followed the carriage until it stopped at an inn and the lady got out, then Lady Diana sent me back to tell you that you must come to her there immediately.’

  Gabriel would be more than happy to do as Diana asked and go to her. At any time. To any place. ‘What woman in the carriage?’ Could it be that Diana had spotted Elizabeth? That she had succeeded where he and Dominic had failed so abysmally?