If only the thought of seeing Gabe didn’t send fresh tears down her cheeks.
Two days later Elizabeth realized Gabe had taken her words to heart. Not only did he avoid touching her, he avoided her altogether. Unlike before, it was now plain she was the reason he stayed away. Thoughts of being in the same room with him might send shivers down her back, but not seeing him tore her heart into pieces.
While with Phoebe, she tried to keep a smile on her face, but she knew it often fell short. It didn’t help that Phoebe was a miniature of Gabe. Even if she managed to push him from her mind, it all came rushing back with one glance at those striking Wesbrook features.
Being with Phoebe created its own heartbreak. How could she smile and laugh with the child when in a few short days she would be leaving Phoebe forever? She never should have come here. What had she been thinking? Yet even with all she knew, she wouldn’t have changed it. Knowing was better than always wondering. At least now she could move on with her life. Find a future alone because her heart would always belong to Gabe and she refused to dishonor her parents’ memory by marrying someone she didn’t love.
Aunt Millie’s voice filled the morning room, startling Elizabeth. “I tried to be patient, child, but we both know it is simply not in me.” Aunt Millie closed the door. “We aren’t leaving this room until you tell me what transpired between you and Gabriel.”
The words might have been forceful but Elizabeth sensed the underlying compassion. Her aunt had become a second mother to her after the death of her own. As much as she loved Millie, she wasn’t ready to talk about that night.
“Where is Phoebe?” she asked, stalling. “I thought you took her to the park.”
Aunt Millie sat across from Elizabeth. Her smile deepened the lines surrounding her upturned mouth. “The darling poppet was all tuckered out. The maid took her to the nursery for a nap.” Her smile vanished; the lines remained. “Sweetheart, I know something is wrong. Please talk to me. It tears at my heart to see you so. Who knows, maybe your old aunt can help. I’ve been known to have a wise thought every now and then.”
A tiny chuckle burst past Elizabeth’s lips.
When she didn’t respond, Aunt Millie continued, “Besides, as your grandmother always said, a trouble shared is a trouble halved.”
Elizabeth’s denial started to waver. Maybe she should confide in her aunt. She didn’t see how it could make matters worse.
Avoiding the steamy details, she poured out everything. Aunt Millie didn’t utter a sound, just studied Elizabeth with silent empathy. When Elizabeth’s voice broke at relating Gabe’s dismissal, Aunt Millie quickly moved next to her on the settee and took her shaky hand between her own.
“It is finished, Aunt Millie. He doesn’t love me, and he never will,” she mourned. A single tear traced down her cheek.
“None of that now,” Aunt Millie said softly as she wiped the tear away with her thumb. “You, dear, are a strong woman. You will get through this.” She lifted Elizabeth’s chin and looked into her eyes. “You are too much like me to accept this as the end. You may have your mother’s endearing compassion for others, but you also have my mettle and determination. If this is what you desire, child, you need to fight for it.”
Aunt Millie released her chin but kept Elizabeth’s gaze locked with hers. “I don’t know if I can,” Elizabeth whispered.
“Of course you can! Where is the young girl that never allowed her brother to leave her behind? Who was determined to accomplish everything the boys did? Even as a child, you knew what you wanted and didn’t quit until you got it. I saw how you maneuvered your brother to doing what you wished.”
“I can’t make Gabe love me.”
“No, you can’t. But you can teach him what love is,” Aunt Millie said, a twinkle in her eye.
“I don’t understand.”
“That boy doesn’t know love. He was raised by a father so filled with himself he wouldn’t know how to love, even if it bit him in the arse. And, after years of having her love thrown back at her, Gabriel’s mother closed down emotionally. His life has been filled with people incapable of loving him as he needs. You need to show him how to love.”
“How do you know all that?”
Sadness washed over Aunt Millie’s face. “Helen, Gabriel’s mother, and I were presented the same year and quickly became friends. Back then, she’d been so vibrant and loving. When the Duke of Wesbrook started calling on her, I never saw her happier. This was before rumors of Wesbrook’s exploits circulated. He knew not to let his true character show until it was too late.”
Her usually joyous voice became harsh. “She believed he loved her and, from what I saw, he’d done everything he could to keep her thinking that. He had everyone fooled. He might be a duke but he had been living outside his means and desperately needed Helen’s dowry. The day after the wedding he went about town, taking up with whores. And didn’t even bother to shield his young wife from his exploits.”
As Aunt Millie paused in her rumination, Elizabeth recalled the Duchess of Wesbrook. Having never been formally introduced, she didn’t know the lady well but always thought of her as reserved and slightly cold. It was difficult to envision her as the young girl Aunt Millie described.
“But as hurtful as that had been, her love for him died when he started to parade his paramours before her.” Millie sighed. “He even had the gall to carry on with his lightskirts under the same roof as his wife. Soon after, Helen withdrew from society and from me. As far as I know, the Duke’s behavior never changed, even after young Gabriel was born. People even talked of his dealings bordering on criminal. But nothing could be proven and no one dared go against a duke.”
Elizabeth’s heart ached for Gabe. No wonder he believed he had nothing to offer her. Witnessing his father’s constant betrayal of his mother had to have affected him greatly.
“How do I teach Gabe how to love?” she asked.
A smile erased Aunt Millie’s sadness. “Sorry, child, but I don’t have an answer for you. You are going to have to figure that out on your own. You could begin by showing him your heart. Let him know he is loved.”
Elizabeth fell silent. Did she have the strength to do it? Could she risk such emotion again? And suddenly she knew. Nothing was more important to her than Gabe. If by risking her heart once more, she had a chance for him to love her, she’d do whatever she must.
Starting by finding a way to stop him from avoiding her.
Chapter 11
Gabe circled his opponent, looking for an opening to strike. As they continued to scrutinize each other, Gabe almost felt sorry for the young pup who had taken up his challenge.
Most men surrounding them, watching the action, had recognized the underlying tension streaming through Gabe and declined to spar. If Jackson had been present, he would have spotted Gabe’s need to pound his opponent—instead of having a goodhearted bout—and would have quickly put a stop to it. Luckily, Jackson was otherwise engaged and Gabe had an opportunity to release some of the strain he’d been carrying around since the debacle with Elizabeth in his study.
At the thought of that night, he tightened his fist and took a quick jab at the younger son of Lord Farley. The man’s head snapped back at Gabe’s direct hit. He brushed aside a twinge of compassion. It was the arrogant fool’s own blunder for not seeing Gabe’s desire to thrash something. Or someone. Besides, even if Gabe had a cooler head, the pup would still be no match for his greater skill. Why should he feel responsible for someone else’s ignorance, especially if it worked so well in his favor?
Uncaring of the other man’s obvious fatigue, Gabe relentlessly threw hard jabs and precise uppercuts. The few weak punches landed by the other man didn’t deter Gabe. He continued his onslaught and reveled in the pain that resonated through his fists at each hit.
When the young man le
ft an easy opening for a right hook, Gabe went in for the kill, his nostrils flaring. Before his fist connected, someone yanked his arm back. His opponent’s eyes flashed with relief at the reprieve.
Gabe rounded on the fool holding him. Ready to strike with his left hand, he stopped abruptly at seeing Marcus. Gabe’s eyes narrowed as he glanced from Marcus’s tight grip on his upper bicep to his friend’s raised eyebrow.
Marcus tipped his head toward Gabe’s cocked fist. “Try it and I’ll give you the kind of thrashing that young pup would never be able to deliver.”
“Leave off,” Gabe growled through clenched teeth. He yanked his arm free of Marcus’s grasp and left his circle of onlookers. No use staying when his opponent had vanished at the opening provided him.
Gabe stalked to a bench and grabbed a towel. Without the physical exertion, the sweat quickly cooled on his bare skin. After toweling off, he pulled his shirt on and turned to face Marcus.
“Would you care to explain why you gave that fool a chance to flee?” he asked his friend.
“I highly doubt he knew what he was getting into when he agreed to box with you,” Marcus pointed out. “Besides, as satisfying as it might have felt pounding him into a pulp, I know you, my friend, and you surely would have regretted your actions once your blood cooled.”
“Like hell I would have,” he snarled.
Ignoring his outburst, Marcus continued, “Moreover, I respect Lord Farley and I would hate to see his son return home a bloody mess.”
“If he thinks he is man enough to enter the establishment, he should be man enough to take a few hits,” Gabe retorted, albeit without heat behind his words. Most of his rage had receded.
“If what you intended were a few good-natured hits, I wouldn’t have interceded, but we both know you were looking to take your frustrations out on the whelp. I’ve never seen you so reckless. Care to explain?”
Sure, I’ll explain. I’ll explain how my body is tight with unfulfilled desired for your sister. Not to mention the ever present pain for causing her even a moment of hurt. That would surely be enough to entice Marcus into the fight Gabe craved. Unfortunately, no matter the outcome, it would end with him losing a close friend. A possibility that could still happen if he couldn’t control his craving for Elizabeth. Marcus would never approve of Gabe’s feelings for his sister, even if they were honorable, which Gabe admitted firsthand they weren’t.
Then there was the issue with his blackmailer. Gabe held a special kind of rage and hate for that particular individual. But until he discovered who held the cards, Gabe had no option but to play his game. It had stung enough to pay the bastard for his silence—something Gabe feared the man would break despite receiving payment. If not for Phoebe, he’d find some way to retaliate. If only he knew who he was up against.
His friend continued to regard him silently. The fact that Marcus knew him well enough to suspect something troubled him annoyed Gabe more than usual. He didn’t like the idea his feelings could be so transparent.
“It’s nothing. Just needed to work off a little frustration,” he said, to appease Marcus.
“Whatever you say, old friend, whatever you say.” Clearly, Marcus still believed there was an underlining reason for Gabe’s need to spill some blood. That worked for him, as long as the man never found out the real reason.
“How is everything with Lizzy?” Marcus asked as Gabe started to redress.
His gut clenched as his fingers stilled over his shirt buttons. “What do you mean?”
Marcus laughed. “Well, she is living with you and I haven’t seen her in a few days. How is she handling everything with Phoebe?”
Relief poured over him. “Oh, I think things are fine. I know Phoebe adores her and I believe your Aunt Millicent found a new partner in crime.” Gabe smiled. He might be avoiding Elizabeth and out of the house most of the day, but he insisted on being kept abreast of all that happened while away.
He hid his wide smile from Marcus. Elizabeth would probably rail at him if she knew just how much he was aware of her daily actions. He knew what evening events she attended, when she walked in the park, and who visited her. Luckily, the only visitor had been her friend, Emma.
As relieved as he was that she hadn’t received any male callers, he knew it never boded well when Emma Dawkins was around. The other members of the aristocracy might not be aware of the devilment surrounding the undersized miss; but he had seen enough of her antics to know when she and Elizabeth were together, disaster would probably not be far behind. He just hoped it didn’t fall his way.
His smile turned sly. At least having Elizabeth in his residence kept the randy young bucks away from her. Even if they managed to find the nerve to visit her at his residence, he had discreetly instructed Wilkes to inform the young men she was unavailable for visitors. His smile vanished and the need to hit something returned. He might not be able to have her for himself, but that didn’t mean he’d help any other man pursue her in his home.
Taking note of how Marcus studied him, Gabe cleared his throat and resumed dressing. He’d have to gain greater control of his emotions or Marcus would discover what was arousing Gabe and making short work of his temper.
Then, there’d be hell to pay.
Before the stroke of midnight, Gabe climbed the stairs to his chambers in the town house. He should have stayed away longer, but as he tried to stretch out the evening with a few hands of cards, his body had started to revolt against the various lightskirts intent on rubbing their special assets against him at every opportunity. He wasn’t sure if he was more disgusted with them or himself for not taking one or two up on what they’d offered.
He continued up the stairs, well aware Elizabeth had stayed in to be with her aunt, who was laid up with a migraine. A footman had found him hiding out at his club earlier in the evening and shared the news.
At the top of the stairs, instead of continuing to his room, he turned left. Unbeknownst to anyone, since Phoebe had moved in, the late night trek away from his wing of the house had become a ritual. The maid staying with Phoebe had always been fast asleep by time he arrived.
For some unknown reason, he couldn’t sleep until he caught a peek of his daughter. It had started the first night she’d been delivered to his door. He couldn’t explain it and he sure as hell didn’t want to examine it. Something merely drew him to her. Uncomfortable with the idea of facing her while she was awake, he decided this was a sufficient alternative.
Careful not to wake the maid, he gently turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open. Even with his large build, he managed to silently cross the room and stand beside Phoebe’s bed. And, as all the nights before, the mere sight of her constricted his heart. Somehow the little girl had wiggled past his barriers and touched something he thought long depleted.
If not for Cecilia’s death, he might never have known of her existence. The possibility caused his breath to catch, for even now, he couldn’t imagine his life without her. A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled her giddy laughter ricocheting through the halls of the house. No matter what he was doing, when he heard the sound, he paused to enjoy her play. And even though he couldn’t see it for himself, he knew, at those times, his face carried a foolish smile.
He reached and swept a tiny raven curl from her cheek. With the barest of pressure, the back of his finger grazed her skin. Afraid he had woken her, he tensed as she stirred. He didn’t relax until she settled and snuggled closer to her dolls. Unexpectedly, his arms ached to pick her up and hold her tight.
When he’d first seen the child and noticed the blue eyes so like her mother’s, he was afraid whenever he looked at her, he would be reminded of Cecilia. And thinking of Cecilia and her betrayal was something he refused to do. It was one of the many reasons he’d tried to keep away from Phoebe. He found himself relieved to realize the desi
re to observe and thus know his child outweighed the bad taste left in his mouth from her mother.
If he’d let his fear dictate in this, he never would have come to see Phoebe as someone other than Cecilia’s child. In these stolen, late night moments, he had come to understand the girl’s presence didn’t evoke any of the terrible feelings and hurt that accompanied his thoughts of Cecilia. For that, he was more grateful than he would ever be able to express.
“Good night, my sweet,” he whispered.
He turned to quit the room and froze. Framed by a soft light from the hall, Elizabeth stood in the doorway. Her expression gave no indication of what thoughts were floating around her head. He could only imagine her surprise at finding him standing by Phoebe’s bed.
Not even the light snoring of the maid, or the knowledge his daughter slept a few feet away, kept his body from stirring at Elizabeth’s nearness. He needed to get away from her before he lost his head again.
Avoiding eye contact, he strode to the door and as he slipped by her, inclined his head, hoping she’d leave it at that. Without looking back, he hastened toward his room.
His door handle within reach, he relaxed slightly, assuming he had escaped.
And with his guard down, he was unprepared for the heat that enveloped him when her fingers lightly touched his arm.
Chapter 12
Through the sleeve of his coat, Gabe’s muscles flexed. Elizabeth hadn’t known she was going to follow him until she’d reached for his arm. Now that she’d stopped him, she wasn’t sure what to do with him.
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