Gabriel was rather perturbed with himself as he strode up the stairs of the townhouse now belonging to Lady Elizabeth Moreland. His heart was beating in an irregular pattern, it seemed, which was rather ridiculous. Not only was he a well-known, respected gentleman of the nobility, but he was a duke, one of the most wealthy and powerful in all of England.
So why was he allowing a simple attraction to a woman to cause such an unease within him?
It must be because of their past, he told himself. Surely that was it. Elizabeth felt he had wronged her, and though he agreed with her now, he knew that many would argue the fact. A woman, they would say, should be aware that such was the result of entering into a relationship with a man like himself. Many women—most actually—would have little to no expectation that she would remain his only woman. In fact, most would expect a man like him to take other lovers.
And yet… he had known of what type of woman Elizabeth was, and, at the very least, he should not have been so entirely obvious in his trysts with others.
He knocked on the door, smiling when Justine’s face greeted him.
“Hello, Mrs. Clarke,” he said, embracing her with a kiss on the cheek.
“None of that Mrs. Clarke with you now,” she said, softly smiling at him. Gabriel had never been sure of how much she and her husband had been aware of when it came to the breaking off of his relationship with Elizabeth, but they had remained kind to him, treating him like one of their own. He hadn’t known his own grandparents and enjoyed the time he spent with the Clarkes, particularly when his mother retreated to the country for such lengths of time.
“I expect you are here for Elizabeth?” she asked, and Gabriel smiled at her charmingly.
“I came to see both lovely ladies who reside here.”
Justine smacked him lightly on the arm. “You always have the right words to say, do you not?”
She was right—most of the time he did, except when it came to Elizabeth.
“She is in the study, working away of course, and likely attempting to evade your arrival,” Justine said, and Gabriel looked at her with mock astonishment.
“Avoid me?” he asked. “Never.”
She laughed and led him through the house, knocking on the door to the study before letting him in, leaving him standing within the door.
“Elizabeth,” he greeted her as she looked up from the papers in front of her. She blinked a few times as if realizing where she was and who he was, clearly having been within deep concentration.
“Gabriel,” she said with some wonderment. “That’s right. I had forgotten you were coming this afternoon.”
He clutched at his breast with mock pain. “You cause me a great deal of hurt, my lady, that I would be so easily forgotten.”
“I have a lot on my mind,” she said with a sigh. “Would you like to sit?”
She gestured to the seat in front of the old scarred oak desk. Clearly, Thomas Clarke hadn’t been as concerned about appearances in his home study as he had been at the bank’s office. He looked around the dark room before returning his gaze to her weary face and shook his head.
“Actually, I was going to ask if you would like to go for a walk,” he said. “The day is lovely and you have clearly spent far too much time indoors as of late.”
“Do I really look so terrible?” she asked with a wry smile.
In truth, she did not. But she did look as though she needed someone to take care of her, to ease her worries and be there for her, to provide a means of both support and comfort.
“You look perfectly fine,” he assured her. “Despite the fact that you are so pale, I can nearly see through you.”
That certainly captured her attention as she looked up with a gasp, and he laughed at the shock on her face.
“I am teasing,” he said. “Now, find your bonnet, take my arm, and let us be off.”
“Go, Elizabeth,” came a voice from the door, and they both looked toward it to see Justine waving her hands toward the front of the house. “You need to take some time to yourself.”
Elizabeth nodded, clearly not wanting to argue with both of them any longer. Once they emerged outside, however, her eyes cleared as she took a swift inhale of the fresh air, and Gabriel knew that it had been the right decision to push her to come.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked.
“To the park,” she said decidedly, and he held out his arm to her. She looked at it for a moment, as though trying to determine whether or not to trust it, before finally lightly placing her own hand upon it.
Her touch sent a strange tingle through him, one which Gabriel did not particularly welcome. She was somewhat stiff beside him as they walked, her gaze forward and her face hidden from him by her bonnet.
“How do you find working within a world of men?” he asked her, and she shrugged.
“I am used to being at the bank, so it is nothing new to me, I suppose.”
“Well, I, for one, do believe that more institutions might be better off if more women were involved.”
That caused her to turn her face toward him.
“Do you really now?”
“Well, yes,” he said. “It can help men be less idiotic sometimes.”
“Some would argue the opposite—that women distract men from their rational thinking.”
“Then they would be wrong,” he said in his arrogant manner, and she raised an eyebrow.
“You do realize you are speaking of your own kind?”
“Elizabeth, yesterday at White’s two of these kind had a bet over which of them could drink the most whiskey before passing out. They both ended up in such a drunken stupor that by the time they got to that point, neither of them remembered why they had been drinking in the first place.”
She laughed at that, a tinkling noise that he enjoyed. It had been some time since he had heard her laugh. The last time he had heard such from her was likely the last time he had called upon her before she had found him with another woman. Now that he thought about the time, he couldn’t even remember which woman it was, that was how unremarkable she was in comparison to Elizabeth.
“So that is how you spend your days—with such men at White’s?” she asked.
“There and in Parliament,” he said with a bit of a sigh. “Which are the same men, unfortunately. I appreciate the opportunity to hold such a position, and yet sometimes lords feel the need to argue simply because they are expected to be on opposite sides—even when their true thoughts on an issue are exactly the same.”
“It is rather silly, isn’t it?” she said. “I had always thought you were a Tory.”
“I am,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I cannot share similar ideals with gentlemen of both parties.”
“That makes sense. It is much like the bank itself. Some are known to have a political leaning, but my grandfather was always careful to ensure that he appeased both sides,” she said.
“Your grandfather was always a wise man,” Gabriel said. “He named you his heir.”
“Your argument today has changed from when you first came to visit me at the bank,” she said and he shrugged.
“Perhaps my thoughts have changed somewhat.”
She raised an eyebrow, and he realized she may have understood that he had slightly manipulated the situation, but thankfully she didn’t pursue it.
“Gabriel… will you tell me now, what happened with Julia in Newmarket?”
Ah, so the situation had upset her. Inwardly he smiled that she still cared.
“Your friend, the lovely Lady Julia, and her jockey love, Eddie Francis, clearly cared for one another very much, and yet it seemed that they weren’t quite taking the next step to share their feelings with one another. Sometimes one just needs a bit of a push in order to reach for what they so desire. Lady Julia is an interesting woman, to be sure, but I never intended to marry her, nor even to court her. I only intervened because I found the entire situation rather intriguing, and saw the opportunity to
help her and Francis realize the extent of their own feelings.”
“I see,” Elizabeth said contemplatively. “How soon did you realize that Julia was riding Orianna?”
Gabriel grinned. “After the very first race,” he said with a laugh. “It is interesting that I was one of the only ones to determine the truth. But people see only what they want to unless they know enough of others’ motivations to look deeper within.”
“That is very cryptic,” Elizabeth said. “Why did you not say anything?”
Gabriel shrugged. “It was an interesting situation, one in which I wanted to see just how the lovely Lady Julia would extricate herself, and how Francis would help her to do so. I say, the man nearly bungled the entire situation, but he found his way in the end.”
“With your help,” she said, an eyebrow raised, questioning his motives perhaps.
“I only helped the situation along, ensured that all went according to plan.” Upon her look, he added hastily, “Their plan, not mine. I was an observer, a spectator if you will.”
“Knowing she was my friend?” Elizabeth had to ask.
“Because she was your friend,” Gabriel responded, and Elizabeth remained silent for a moment, clearly not knowing exactly how to respond to this revelation. It was more than Gabriel felt he should tell her, and yet he needed her to know that he had never pretended to court Lady Julia for any reason other than in the interests of those involved. He also had enjoyed seeing Elizabeth’s reaction, determining that there was, if nothing else, still a sense of jealousy within her.
“That is rather manipulative,” she finally said. “But at the same time… I must admit that it worked, and I have never seen Julia as happy as she is now.”
“Aha, so you admit that my methods are not as untoward as you originally made them out to be.”
She tilted her head toward him and eyed him warily out of the corner of one eye as they neared the park.
“I still do not entirely approve. You have a tendency to become rather too involved in many a situation. I am well aware that you played a part in ensuring Phoebe’s publication remained viable last year. And yet your motives seem pure, I suppose.”
Gabriel pretended to be affronted. “My motives are always pure, my lady.”
“Mmm hmm,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “So why this sudden interest in the bank?”
“I have always been interested in the bank.”
“You have been interested, perhaps, but I don’t recall you taking an active role when my grandfather was alive.”
“I attended meetings.”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes,” he said with a bit of a sigh, wondering how much to tell her. “The truth of it is, Elizabeth, after we broke off our courtship, I was unsure of what your grandparents knew of the reason for it. I was too ashamed to face them for some time, and then it was difficult to know what to say later on. I was a coward, I must admit it.”
She stopped on the path they were walking, a gentleman behind them fixing them with a glare before continuing around them.
“Those are the last words I ever thought I would hear from the Duke of Clarence.”
“Well, hear them you have,” he said, chuckling self-consciously. He himself had never thought to share such an idea with her, but he supposed she deserved to hear it.
“Gabriel,” she said, dipping her head before tilting it up toward him, and he led her ever-so-slightly off the path, out of the way of others walking by. His heart quickened when he saw how wide her eyes were, her emotions open to him now, bared in a way he didn’t think they ever had been before—at least not to him. “I must ask you…”
When she hesitated, he said softly, “Yes?”
“Why wasn’t I enough?”
He looked down at her, her violet eyes probing into him as though searching his own might provide her with the answer she was looking for.
“I thought we would be married,” she continued, breaking their gaze for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the sheen of tears that covered her eyes. “I know our tryst in the garden was certainly not planned, but when you offered for me, I had thought that it was more than you simply feeling you had to do the right thing, but that you actually desired to be with me. And then, when I saw you…”
Her voice broke, as did his heart at the despondency in her question. He yearned to tell her that she was enough, that she always would be, and that it was himself who had been lacking. But how to put that into words without becoming completely vulnerable?
“Elizabeth…” he said slowly, carefully. “I was young. I was… having fun. It wasn’t you at all. I suppose I just wasn’t ready to settle down.”
He had been young, yes, foolish, and interested in the world open to him, a world full of women who were eager to please him. At least, that’s what he had been telling himself for so long now. The more time he spent with Elizabeth, however, the more he realized that there had been more behind his actions. He, the Duke of Clarence, the man afraid of nothing, had been a coward. For the truth was, he had been so full of questions, so afraid of disappointing her, that he had subconsciously sabotaged their relationship before it had barely begun. He had always been confident in himself, knew his strength, his intelligence, and his ability to take on most things that had come his way.
This, however, was one area in which he doubted himself. Would he have—could he have—make a good husband? He realized now how insecure he had been. How, instead of telling her all of this, he had done the unthinkable, at least in her eyes. He had rationalized it all by telling himself she was too cold to care, but that had been wrong. He knew he should tell her this even now, but he couldn’t seem to find the words to admit such a thing.
“And now you are ready? To stop ‘having fun’, as you say, to settle down?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what this is all about, why you have suddenly decided to pay me attention once again?”
“I am intrigued by you,” he said honestly. “You are one of the most proper, respectable women I have ever met. And yet the position you have taken on is nearly unheard of, particularly for a woman of your station. The way you handle it all is a marvel.”
“So you are spending time with me in order to slake your boredom?”
He supposed she was particularly right in his initial interest in becoming more involved with the bank, with her in particular. But it had become more than that. He felt as though he now had a vested interest in her success, in the bank’s success. And at the same time, he couldn’t help the affection and attraction he felt toward her.
“I am spending time with you because I enjoy doing so,” he said, finally settling on what he knew to be the truth.
She didn’t seem particularly inclined to entirely believe him, but she didn’t question him any further, for which he was grateful. He hadn’t partaken in a conversation of such intelligent wit in some time, and it was rather taxing.
“Very well,” she said. “I believe I am ready to return home.”
“Just one question,” he said, taking her arm once more and walking her toward the fountain in the corner of the park, where they were slightly more secluded from others walking nearby.
“Yes?”
“Could we be friends? I do enjoy your company, and I must say that I miss it.”
She hesitated before nodding slowly, then returned her gaze to him. “Very well, Gabriel. Friends once more.”
She reached out a gloved hand, and he took it within his own fingers. Only he didn’t stop there. He couldn’t. He grasped her hand, pulled it toward him, and then took her warm, pink lips with his own.
Chapter Fourteen
Elizabeth could feel the breeze fluttering the edges of the bonnet around her face, the warmth of the sun upon her back, and the softness of the grass beneath her feet. She could hear the water of the fountain trickling down over the stone, the murmur of voices far away from them.
And oh, she could smell Gabriel’s scent, the musk of the col
ogne he had always worn that was so distinct she could recognize it anywhere. His taste was of oranges and whiskey, a strange yet delectable mix.
It wasn’t as though he were kissing her senseless—no, it was rather that all of her senses were heightened. If she opened her eyes, she thought that even colors would be brighter, but she was loathe to do so for then, perhaps, she would remember where they were, who they were, what they were doing, and rational thought would once more overcome her and force her to push away, to quit this kiss and all the promise and potential it held.
Gabriel never did anything halfway—all he did was with purpose, including this kiss. One strong, warm hand cupped her face, tilting it just so, his other splayed across her back as he held her close against him.
Why, oh why, could something that felt so very right be so wrong?
His tongue swept within her mouth, tasting, teasing, and she nearly wept with how adept he was, how skilled he was, that he could cause such pleasure to course through her very soul.
A skill that was well practiced, she reminded herself, which slightly colored this moment with a different lens. Yet, her body still begged for more.
If footsteps hadn’t approached, Elizabeth had no idea what she would have done—if she would have continued to accept his kisses and caresses, to forget herself as she had five years ago in that garden gazebo. She was typically a decisive, practical woman who used her mind rather than emotion to make decisions.
But with Gabriel, everything was different.
Before she could allow him to convince her otherwise, Elizabeth finally pushed him away and stepped back quickly, feeling her cheeks flaming as she turned from him and looked down so as not to meet the gaze of the gentleman approaching. Instead, she simply nodded her head and walked back the way they had come, feeling Gabriel at her elbow.
He said nothing for a few moments as they walked, and Elizabeth found her heightened senses remained. The grass smelled fresher, the sun seemed brighter, and the birds chirped a cheerier song. But it wasn’t only everything around her. Elizabeth’s own body seemed to be nearly humming with life. It was as though she could feel the blood pumping from her heart and rushing through her veins. Her lips were tingling as the pressure of Gabriel’s remained.
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