The unfinished events from the evening in his study seemed to permeate the air and caused her to drop her hand to her side. After telling him not to touch her again, she didn’t blame him for walking away. It wasn’t his fault the memory of his hands on her was all she had dreamt of since that night. Being so close to him, smelling his clean sandalwood scent, shot desire through her, settling deep in her core.
He didn’t look her way. Instead, he started to reach for the door again and she knew she had to move quickly or he’d walk away from her—maybe for good this time. After her talk with Aunt Millie, she realized in order to show Gabe her love, she first had to restore the tentative friendship they’d once had, and erase the hostility.
In the nursery, as he’d so tenderly reached out to Phoebe, she’d found her way to connect with him.
She moistened her lips before she could speak. “Gabe.” He didn’t move. “Gabe, please. I need to talk with you about Phoebe.”
The budding hope that had sparked to life inside her died at his continued silence. She almost retreated to her room when he released a deep sigh. He paused only a moment more before he pivoted, settling his eyes on hers. The expression etched on his face caused her to take an unsteady step back.
Anticipating his anger or even indifference, she wasn’t at all prepared for the passion burning in his gaze.
“Can this wait until morning?” He swallowed, causing the cords of his neck to tighten. “When you are properly dressed?”
Heat enveloped her when Gabe lowered his darkened gaze to her nightshift, covered only by a light dressing gown. Shame for accosting him for the second time while in a state of undress couldn’t dampen the fire flaring inside her.
Besides, it wasn’t as if she had planned this encounter. On her way to her room after checking on her aunt, she’d seen the door to Phoebe’s room open and worried the child might need something. She’d never expected to find Gabe there. By no means could this be considered her doing.
She pulled the opening of her dressing gown together, trying to cover as much of herself as possible. “No, it can’t. It will only take a moment.”
“I hope you know what you are about,” he muttered, his tone flat despite the longing she sensed radiating from him in waves. Clearly he wasn’t pleased.
This might be more difficult than she’d anticipated. She was about to continue when she noticed a bruise darkening the area below his left eye.
Without thinking, she raised her hand and gently touched two fingers to the spot. “Oh, Gabe, what happened?” she asked just as softly.
He wrenched away until she no longer touched his warm skin. “It’s nothing.”
Prudently, she let the subject drop. She had more important things to address.
“Elizabeth, you might want to get on with this. I’m sure you wouldn’t want a servant to find you standing in the hall, with me, dressed as you are.”
Her cheeks heated at the mention of her lack of proper clothing. “Um . . . yes . . . well, the thing is, I don’t think London is where Phoebe should be right now.”
His eyes narrowed into dark slivers, wiping away some of the bold desire. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think she is coping well in the city.”
His jaw tightened and any trace of passion evaporated, casting his features in stone. “You think I should send my daughter away? That I’m not a good enough father for her?”
“No! That isn’t what I was—”
“I thought you saw me differently. It’s obvious you think I’m just like him,” he growled. The anger flowing off him was enough to knock her over, but it was the flash of hurt in his eyes that grabbed at her heart.
“‘Him?’ What are you talking about?” she fumbled, trying to find an answer to his sudden fury.
“As if you don’t know,” he spat back. “What do you suggest? Should I send her to some foundling house? Or drop her off with one of my tenants? How exactly should I rid myself of my daughter?”
She struggled to draw in a breath at his sudden attack. None of it made any sense to her. As quickly as his rage had hit, the injustice of the situation struck her, and before she knew it, her anger suddenly matched his.
“How dare you! How dare you think I’d suggest such a thing!” She struggled not to yell and wake the entire household. “I would never wish any of that on a child. I thought you knew me better.”
Presenting her with the Duke of Wesbrook manner he showed the ton, he braced his legs apart, crossed his arms, and glared at her. Other than that, he didn’t move. Not even to blink. He stood, waiting for her to continue. Her hackles rose at his arrogance.
She knew matching his anger wouldn’t get her anywhere so she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “That’s not what I meant.” He still didn’t react. “I was trying to say I don’t believe London is a suitable environment for her. It can be stifling for a young child. Phoebe was raised in the country. It is what she is accustomed to. She can be a child there. She can run and play.”
The lowering of his shoulders the only indication her words might have penetrated his hard shell.
“Please, Gabe. Just think about taking her to your family seat. Since I still haven’t found a governess and I couldn’t possibly leave her without proper supervision, I’d be willing to come along.”
A flicker of surprise flashed across his face before it returned to its rigid mask.
She hastened to add, “I’ve already discussed it with Aunt Millie and she is willing to quit London early and chaperone.”
The tightness in his body lessened, relaxing his frame, but he still hadn’t moved or spoken. Then, before she knew what was happening, he had her pinned against the wall, his hands braced on either side of her head. His body enclosed hers within its warmth and sent flashes of heat rushing through her. The strength of his muscular torso brushing against her unbound breasts aroused feelings she’d experienced only once before. The night he had awoken her to such heights, she’d thought for certain she would melt in his arms. It astonished—and somewhat frightened—her that after experiencing such bliss a single time, her body instinctively craved more.
“Minx, this is the only warning I’m going to give you.” His breath rasped along her cheek. “I’ve about run out of restraint when it comes to you. If you follow through with this, I won’t guarantee I can keep from touching you as you so demanded.”
Yearning for him with her entire being, she didn’t hesitate to raise her hand to his chest and run her fingers along his cravat. Their steadiness surprised her, especially considering how her body shivered in anticipation. What she would have given for him to have already discarded his coat and cravat. To feel his skin beneath her palm.
“I know what I said, but what if I was wrong? What if I want you to keep touching me?”
She'd barely uttered the words before his mouth settled on hers in a deep kiss. A kiss that involved more than just his lips and had her opening to allow access to his imploring tongue. It swept along hers and her knees lost the ability to hold her up. What was it about this man’s kisses that caused her to lose all her senses?
As quick as it had started, he pulled away. A whimper burst from her parted lips at the loss. She had to lower her hands and push her palms to the wall to keep from pulling his head back down to hers. She glanced up and in the darkness of his eyes found a reflection of her own passion.
Did he feel the loss of their connection as deeply as she?
Her heart pounded as the gold surrounding the blackness of his eyes began to burn brighter. She almost wept with delight when he lowered his head and took her lips once more. But frustration swiftly followed when he retreated after only the briefest of touches.
“Ahh, Minx. You could tempt the strongest of men.” He rested his forehead against hers and she managed t
o find satisfaction in the tender gesture, grateful he hadn’t pulled away entirely. “But I’m going to halt this here. Not because I don’t want you, but because if I begin, I won’t be able to stop.” He pulled back, his gaze never leaving hers, restarting a slow smoldering inside her.
She watched, unable to speak, her senses reeling, as he pushed away from the wall, stepped back and sent one more longing glance in her direction before he turned and entered his bedchamber. The unabashed need aflame in his eyes singed her from the inside out. If it hadn’t been for the wall behind her, she would have sunk to the floor at the sheer power of it. The door to his room closed as a smile lifted her lips.
Apparently Gabe wasn’t opposed to exploring their mutual craving. Now, all she needed was to alter his desire for her into a deep, abiding love. If only that were as simple as it sounded.
Yet it seemed pointless fretting about what would happen if he never fell in love with her. She must keep her focus on winning him over.
She slowly pushed away from the wall, tested the strength of her weakened knees, and headed toward her room. Tomorrow would be yet another day to show Gabe how she felt.
Chapter 13
“Phoebe, dear, stay close to Jane,” Elizabeth called over the noise of Hyde Park as the two ventured to take a closer look at the ducks.
An afternoon away from Gabe’s house—and Gabe—was just what Elizabeth needed and the park was the perfect place for Phoebe to expend some energy.
“Do you think the interest in Gabe’s daughter will ever die down?” she asked her aunt, sitting next to her.
“Of course,” Millie answered in mid-wave to Lady Martin and Lady Callow as they stared and whispered intently under their parasols. “Once the next Lord So-And-So is caught with his breeches around his ankles while his wife is otherwise occupied with the head groom.”
“Aunt Millie!”
“Don’t be so dumbfounded. I didn’t teach my niece to be hoity-toity. We both know the only thing most members of the ton have in common is the ability to be complete hypocrites.”
Her aunt did have a point.
“What of Phoebe? Do you think she’ll ever become accustomed to being the center of such scrutiny?”
Elizabeth worried about the child and how facing condemnation based on her parentage would affect her. Unfortunately, Aunt Millie was right about the peerage. They could be a nasty bunch when they thought it warranted.
The very nature of the ton was one of the reasons Elizabeth and her aunt had decided on such a highly populated location for their day out. Despite her desire to protect Phoebe from the prying eyes of the public, she owed it to the child to teach her to be strong when confronted with the small-mindedness of others.
“Stop fretting. Phoebe is a determined young lady and if she is anything like her father, she will be able to hold her own.”
Elizabeth kept an eye on Phoebe as she tossed bits of bread from their lunch to the ducks. Then her attention was caught by a figure off to the right. There was nothing particular about the young man; he could easily pass as any one of the male figures milling about. Well-groomed, his cream trousers and navy waistcoat fashionable, his light hair and fair features failed to strike any recognition in Elizabeth. But, something about him didn’t sit right.
Perhaps it was the way he leaned against the tree, as if using it to conceal his presence instead of a leisurely rest stop. There was also the fact that he was alone. Then again, so were a number of other men in the park. Clearly she was being overly anxious.
“Dear, I think we should be heading back soon. The weather appears to be worsening.”
Elizabeth pulled her inspection of the unknown man to glance at the overcast sky. Intent on Phoebe, she hadn’t noticed the sun had been replaced by gray, threatening clouds. They needed to return home before it rained and the park broke out with well-dressed ladies and gentlemen trying to flee to avoid being soaked.
She checked on Phoebe, still engrossed with her feathered friends and scurrying after a particularly fat bird before she retreated to Jane’s side. Elizabeth hated to take her away from her fun, probably the most childlike activity she’d experienced in London.
“Let her have five more minutes,” Elizabeth decreed.
Safe from the duck, Phoebe picked a feather off the ground and waved it wildly in the air before charging into battle once more. Elizabeth hoped Gabe would agree to quit London. This was the kind of fun-loving child she preferred, one that would surely emerge once she began to thrive outside of the overcrowded city.
Again, the man by the tree diverted Elizabeth’s enjoyment of Phoebe’s antics. She almost dismissed her curiosity as her own foreboding when it finally struck her what appeared so out of place. The man wasn’t casually watching the happenings of the park. His interest was solely on Phoebe.
The child did capture a lot of attention, not only by being the bastard daughter of the Duke of Wesbrook but also through her ongoing war with the ducks. Yet his absorption didn’t seem to come from idle curiosity. There was something more to his concentration—not quite sinister but with more intensity than acceptable.
“Aunt, do you know that man?”
“Which man?”
“The one standing by the tree.” Elizabeth gave a discreet head bob in the man’s direction.
“Hmmm, I can’t say I do. Why do you ask?”
“There is something about the way he is watching Phoebe that doesn’t seem right.”
Aunt Millie took a closer look at the stranger. “He does seem preoccupied with the gel but then again, most people here are. I wouldn’t think too much on it. He is probably just another meddling nobody trying to garner information on the duke’s daughter.”
The sudden appearance of Gabe’s groom distracted Elizabeth from answering.
“My Lady, His Grace has sent the carriage for you. He didn’t want you to be caught in the rain.”
Elizabeth was touched that Gabe had thought of their comfort. She offered silent prayer they would return to the house before it started to rain. If not, she would rather walk than ride in the carriage.
But her hopes had come too late, as the clouds opened and released a downpour of giant droplets. Elizabeth and her aunt jumped to their feet the same moment utter pandemonium rang out through the park when everyone started to head for cover.
The horde of people moving about removed her visual of Jane and Phoebe but knowing the child was with her maid, Elizabeth concerned herself with helping her aunt gather their things. She would locate the two once they were done.
The task was completed, with the help of the footman they’d brought along and the groom, when Jane rushed over.
“Lady Elizabeth! Lady Elizabeth! I can’t find Phoebe.”
Elizabeth turned to find panic written on her maid’s face. At the sight, she lost all feeling in her body. Even the pelting rain, as it fell on her face, failed to penetrate the numbness.
“What? Where?”
“I’m not sure. She was right next to me when the rain started, but we got separated when a group of women shoved between us. After they’d passed, I noticed Phoebe was gone,” Jane managed to choke out through her tears.
Elizabeth didn’t take the time to answer; instead she ran to where Phoebe had been playing with the ducks. Fear gripped her when there was no sign of the child.
“Phoebe! Phoebe, sweet, if you are playing a game, you win. It is time to come out now,” Elizabeth shouted above the steady rain.
She scoured all the trees and bushes that could act as a hiding spot. But all she saw were the backs of people retreating from the rain and Gabe’s footman and groom running about, looking for the child.
What if something had happened to Phoebe? What if she were hurt?
Elizabeth reined in her panic. Distress wouldn’t h
elp locate the girl. Besides, Phoebe had been there a moment before. She was probably off somewhere hiding, thinking she was being funny.
Not about to give up, Elizabeth tried again. “Phoebe! We need to be going before we are soaked through.”
No response. Elizabeth was about to hurry back to Jane to see if she could offer anything helpful when a flash of white caught her eye.
From behind a group of shrubs a few dozen feet away, a white duck waddled toward Elizabeth. And right on its tail skipped a giggling Phoebe.
Elizabeth kicked up water from the drenched lawn as she rushed to the child and hoisted her into her arms, crushing her to her chest. “Phoebe, thank God you are all right. You had me worried.”
She eased back to look into bright blue eyes. “You can never run off without telling someone. Do you understand?”
Still fueled by worry, her tone was overly brusque, causing Phoebe’s bottom lip to protrude. Elizabeth longed to offer comfort, but it was vital to impart the seriousness of the situation.
She softened her words. “You had me worried something had happened to you. If you don’t tell someone where you are going, we can’t be sure if you are all right. Do you understand?”
Phoebe answered with a nod. Elizabeth ignored the rain. If she didn’t handle this now, Phoebe might not realize how important it was.
“Did you hear me calling for you?”
Still acting chastened, Phoebe kept her eyes downcast. “Yes.”
“If you heard, why didn’t you answer me?”
Her voice was as small as her when she answered, “The man told me to be quiet. That we were playing a game. I didn’t want to play. I wanted to chase the duck.”
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