by Louise Allen
‘One snigger from you, Tempest, and you will regret it,’ Gabriel warned.
‘Dressed how?’ Alex demanded, filling beakers from a flask of cold tea. ‘Not in robes, surely?’
‘Oh, yes, with an enormous beard and a beautiful Welsh accent.’ Caroline was recovering her spirits along with the food, Gabriel was glad to see. ‘He was very convincing.’
‘Of course I saw the beard.’ Alex chuckled. ‘He was able to fool even Tess with such a disguise. But why—?’ Under Gabriel’s fulminating stare Alex snapped his mouth shut, but there was more speculation than amusement in the sharp hazel gaze that met his.
‘Later,’ Gabriel said. ‘I am only going to explain this once and I have no doubt there will be an audience awaiting us. Where are we going?’
‘Half Moon Street. My house. I sent a note to Cris and told him I would fetch you, but you are right, it is certain we’ll find him there with Tamsyn when we arrive.’
‘The Marquess of Avenmore? I have never met him, but I know his reputation. He is not going to approve of me, is he?’ Caroline sounded anxious again.
‘Cris is a pussy cat since his smuggler’s widow got her hands on him,’ Gabriel said, contemplating the choice between a raised pork pie or a slice of cheese flan and deciding on both.
‘He’ll fillet you if he hears you describing Tamsyn in those terms.’ Alex poured Caroline some more tea and settled to explaining that the new marchioness was a perfectly respectable lady who had committed the minor indiscretion of a first marriage to the leader of a gang of smugglers.
She was relaxing now, even laughing at Alex’s irreverent remarks. He had an indecent amount of charm when he chose to exert it. Before his marriage he had been wary of directing it at unmarried ladies and since his marriage he was probably in danger of grievous bodily harm from his adoring wife if he flirted, but Gabriel could tell he could not resist trying to put Caroline at her ease.
He should be glad of it. The last thing they wanted on their hands was a frightened woman, too nervous to make a decision about her own future. On the other hand, his idiocy last night had probably given her plenty to think about. Thank heavens he’d the self-control to stop. But what had he been thinking about? With my damn boots on, too. He could only account for it as the release of tension after the dangers of the night.
‘What are you glowering about?’ Alex enquired.
‘Is anything wrong, Gabriel?’
The last thing he needed was anxious sympathy and a pair of worried blue eyes gazing at him, to feel this strange pang under his breastbone because she was looking weary and that lovely blonde hair was bedraggled, with just one lock coming loose to her collar. He wanted to kiss the shadows under those periwinkle eyes...
‘Tired, that’s all. If Alex would only be quiet for five minutes together, I’d go to sleep.’ He stretched his legs out along the seat again, tipped his hat over his eyes and prepared to feign slumber. It came immediately, taking him by surprise, whirling him down into soft darkness and strange dreams, soothed by a soft, unfamiliar chuckle. I’ve never heard her laugh, not like that... Gabriel slept.
* * *
‘We have arrived. Do you have a veil?’
Alex’s words, the first in over an hour, jerked Caroline out of the trance state she had entered as the effects of food, warmth and safety took effect. She had been watching Gabriel as he slept, his long body loose and beautiful in its unconsidered sprawl. He should have seemed vulnerable, but she had seen the sudden tensing of his hands as they had slowed for a turnpike, then the instant relaxation as the familiar bustle of the gate registered with his sleeping brain. In a crisis he would have been awake and dangerous in seconds.
‘A veil? No, I am sorry.’ Of course, the viscount would not want his neighbours recognising the crumpled and unchaperoned female stumbling out of his carriage. This was a fashionable street and at least a few residents would know her by sight.
‘No need to worry, Tess made me bring one.’ Alex produced a handful of black gauze from his pocket and she swathed it over head and face as Gabriel sat up, got his feet on the floor and his hat straight.
‘What time is it?’
‘Gone twelve. Later than I’d planned, but Caroline would not let me spring the horses, said it would wake you up.’
Alex got out as the front door opened and Caroline made a business of ordering her skirts, grateful that the veil obscured her blush at the look Gabriel sent her. No doubt he was as surprised over her concern as Alex had been.
‘Have you got them safe?’ A lady was in the hall, flushed from Alex’s enthusiastic kiss. Caroline’s immediate impression was of softness—soft brown hair, soft curves on a slender frame, soft voice. ‘Oh, yes, there you are, Gabriel, and this must be— Oh!’ Caroline pushed back the folds of her veil. ‘But you are Lady Caroline Holm, I recognise you, although we have never met.’ She turned to the open door behind her. ‘Cris, Tamsyn, they are here safe.’
The tall, intimidating figure of the Marquess of Avenmore appeared in the doorway and, in front of him, a young woman who said, ‘But I’ve seen you before. In the corridor at Lady Ancaster’s soirée, with Gabriel.’
‘At Lady Ancaster’s...’ That must have been when Gabriel had just kissed her, had told her that he had never meant to act on the IOU for her virtue, had dismissed her, leaving her feeling naive and gauche and unwanted. This young woman had come up behind Gabriel. Had she overheard what Caroline had said? A promise is a promise, but if you do not want me—
It could have meant anything, she told herself desperately. If you do not want me to dance with you next week. If you do not want me to give you one of the kittens...
‘Kittens,’ she said out loud, wondering if she was about to faint.
‘For goodness sake, the poor dear is on the point of collapse.’ It was the brunette again. ‘Make room, all of you, and let her come into the drawing room.’
Hands propelled her through the door before she had the opportunity to make her curtsy to the marquess, which suddenly seemed important. She found herself seated on a chaise in front of a small fire that was comforting, despite the warmth of the day.
‘Tea is coming. Now put up your feet and we will send these men out.’ The brunette made vague flapping gestures as though shooing chickens and the three large males obediently took themselves off, leaving the room soothingly quiet.
‘Now do not feel you have to explain anything just yet,’ the lady from the soirée said. ‘If you have been with Gabriel for several days you probably just want to lie down with a cold compress on your head and sip camomile tea. That man manages to be utterly exhausting, even when he is simply standing still.’
‘It is because he looks as though he is thinking wicked thoughts all the time,’ the soft-voiced one said. ‘Really very wicked thoughts, even when he has a perfectly straight face. And I get intrigued and wonder about them and how wicked they are...and then I catch his eye and I am convinced he knows I am imagining such things so I blush and he smiles and then—’ She laughed. ‘And here I am, very happily married, passionately in love with my husband, pregnant, and the very last thing I want is to be doing anything even mildly naughty with Gabriel Stone. I’m Tess, by the way. Teresa Tempest, which is a ridiculous name. And this is Tamsyn de Feaux.’
‘Lady Weybourn, Lady Avenmore.’ Caroline dragged her tumbling thoughts back from contemplating Gabriel and wickedness and tried to remember her manners. ‘I am Caroline Holm, Lord Knighton’s daughter.’
‘And you are very welcome to my house,’ Tess said warmly. ‘Gabriel’s note simply said you needed rescuing. May we ask what from?’
‘Edgar Parfit, Lord Woodruffe. And, I suppose, from my father.’
‘He wants you to marry that slug? Well then, certainly you must be rescued!’ Tess turned to Tamsyn. ‘Have you met him? He’s a nasty, unh
ealthy, pale colour with fat hands and thick lips and a beastly habit of ogling any female who is not well protected. Even when you are, he tries to stand too close, or brush against you by accident. I stood on his toes with my new French heels the other evening—quite by accident, of course. He had tried to pinch my derrière. And he must need money because he is wildly extravagant.’
‘Fortunately I haven’t been out in London society long enough to have encountered him.’ Tamsyn regarded Caroline, head on one side. Caroline made an effort to sit up straighter and not look as feeble as she felt, just at this moment. This woman, the smuggler’s widow, looked as though she would take a musket to Lord Woodruffe if provoked, not run away. ‘I suppose that just refusing to marry him didn’t work?’
‘No.’ Caroline took a deep breath. ‘You will probably think I am exaggerating the problem. I had better tell you everything.’ Not about my IOU, bartering my virginity for the deeds, but everything else. They need to understand.
* * *
There was silence when she finished, then Tamsyn, her faint Devon accent heightened by emotion. said, ‘Your father is somewhat obsessional, is he not? And in the grip of a strong compulsion to gamble. I can understand how dangerous that can be. My cousin Franklin, Lord Chelford, got himself in over his head with gambling debts, then moneylenders, and ended with vandalism, murder and an attempt to frame me for the crime.’
‘And he almost managed to murder you,’ Tess said with a shudder. ‘It is all a secret, of course. People think he went slightly insane and died after an unfortunate encounter with a Bow Street Runner.
‘Anyway, we understand that people do act in these extreme ways and that you aren’t exaggerating in the slightest. Besides anything else, if your father is going to use force, then nothing else matters. And Gabriel is just the person to help, he was wonderful with Tamsyn’s problem.’
‘Once he stopped lecturing Cris on how unsuitable I was for a marquess,’ Tamsyn said with a grimace. ‘He was quite right, of course, but it did not endear him to me at the time!’
‘There are four of them, close friends.’ Caroline tried to pick her way through the relationships. ‘Gabriel, your husbands and someone else? Gabriel did tell me, but I’m afraid I have forgotten.’
‘Grant Rivers, Earl of Allundale. He and his wife Kate live up in Northumberland with their two children. I wish they would come down to London for a while, but Kate is shy of society. So, you have five of us on hand to help, although if you need to flee the area, I am sure Grant and Kate would give you sanctuary.’
‘I can’t just run away and hide for ever. I do not have any money, just a little jewellery, so I must earn my living somehow. I suppose I could become a nursery governess, or a companion to a reclusive old lady, if you wouldn’t mind providing me with references? I am very reliable, despite appearances.’
And horribly afraid, and ridiculously homesick, despite everything. And Anthony. Could I have looked after him any better by staying?
‘It would not be as bad as marriage to the Egregious Edgar, but a pretty grim existence nevertheless,’ Tess said. ‘I almost ended up like that, only in my case it was that or become a nun.’
A nun? ‘I can see that marriage to Lord Weybourn was preferable,’ Caroline said, finding her spirits rising as she finished her second cup of tea. She still could see no easy way out of her problems, but at least she felt confident her new friends would not desert her. She need not feel afraid now and married to Woodruffe she would have been just as cut off from Anthony.
There was a tap on the door and a maid came in. ‘The bath is ready, my lady. And Miss Perkins is brushing and pressing your gowns, ma’am,’ she added with a bob of a curtsy to Caroline.
‘A bath would be heaven,’ Caroline said as the door closed behind the maid. ‘I have spent a day and a night up a chimney.’
‘I would have thought that Gabriel would look after a lady better than that,’ Tamsyn said with a chuckle. ‘On the other hand, he is the only man I know who would think of hiding someone in such a place, so, on balance, it was probably for the best.’
* * *
‘Are you ready to get out now, ma’am? Or should I top up the hot water?’
‘Oh, top it up, please. I’ll lie here for a while longer.’ Caroline slid under the scented water once more, rubbing at her scalp until she was convinced that every last piece of grit, soot and dead spider was out of it.
‘I’ll be back in a while then, ma’am.’ The maid heaped towels on a chair and went out.
After ten minutes the water began to cool and there was no sign of the maid. Or of a bell pull. Caroline climbed out and wrapped herself in a large bath sheet, towelled her hair and began to explore. She tried one door and found herself in a large bedchamber, the dressing table littered with perfume sprays, hair brushes and ribbons. She rather suspected that this was Tess’s own room.
She could hardly rummage in the clothes presses for a robe. Caroline tied her damp hair up into a turban with a small towel and cracked open the door on to the corridor. Still no sign of the maid, so she ventured out, her bare toes curling into the deep pile of the carpet runner over the polished boards. What had happened to the girl?
The door opposite her opened, she took a hasty step backwards, trod on the trailing edge of the towel and sat down with a thud as one of the Roman emperors appeared on the threshold.
‘Caroline? What the devil are you doing?’ Not a Roman emperor, just Gabriel, swathed as she was in linen.
‘Looking for the maid.’ She scrabbled at the fabric, too embarrassed to look down and see just how much of her wet body was exposed. Even if there was no bare flesh, then damp linen was surely clinging to every curve. She tried to hold Gabriel’s gaze to stop it moving down below her face. ‘She vanished and I’ve no robe.’
‘Nor have I and Alex’s valet is nowhere to be seen.’ He grinned, but behind the amusement was something she had never seen in his face before, the thing that had been piquing her feminine pride ever since her first reckless proposal to him. There was heat in his eyes, and awareness, and he was not the rake who had made the agreement, not the man who had kissed her at the soirée. And he was most certainly not the hermit who had been focused on knight-errantry and rescuing her from her father’s ploys.
This Gabriel was looking at her as a man looks at a woman he wants, with all his attention, and she had no idea whether she was terrified or thrilled. It had meant something to him, after all. He is remembering what nearly happened in the chapel, he desires me. The blood was singing in her veins and her breath was coming in short gasps and the sight of his naked shoulders and arms was enough to make her want to drag him back into the dressing room and— He stepped back and closed the door sharply just before she, too, heard the hurrying footsteps.
‘Oh, miss, I’m ever so sorry, I was bringing your robe from the laundry and then Prue knocked a pile of my lady’s lace on to the floor, so I bent to pick it up before it got soiled and tripped up his lordship’s valet who was bringing Lord Edenbridge’s robe and...’
‘Not a problem. Just shut the door.’ Caroline got to her feet, careless of dignity. Those eyes, dark and intense and locked with hers. She looked down at herself and was faintly surprised not to see steam rising.
‘Yes, miss. Sorry, miss.’
Caroline put on the robe and let the maid deal with her hair, then dressed, scolding herself all the while.
Focus. This is not about Gabriel. This is about making a new life for myself, about staying safe. About not ending up starving in the gutter or in some brothel. The man is a rake and whatever he wants, even if it is me again for five minutes, it will not last. So stop daydreaming. And anyway, he doesn’t really want me, he’s just a typical man. That night we were so wound up it is a miracle we didn’t combust from tension and just now I was sprawled at his feet, nearly naked. He would have re
acted like that whoever it was.
‘Her ladyship says, she can send up luncheon on a tray, or you are very welcome to come down. Whatever you wish, miss.’
‘I’ll go down.’ Caroline put her shoulders back, her chin up and made for the stairs. This was the start of her new life as an independent woman and she was going to take control, with the help of her new friends and allies.
Chapter Eleven
‘What is this? A Board of Inquiry, or a jury?’ Gabriel entered the drawing room to find a semicircle of his friends facing him. ‘I deny everything, on principle.’
The habit of self-protection, of hiding his feelings and his vulnerabilities, came back to help him. Then it had been a shelter from his father’s savage temper, the act that had allowed him to be strong enough to protect his brothers, the locked door behind which he could trap his own fear and vulnerability, his own guilt that somehow he could have prevented his mother’s suicide.
It had become his gambler’s mask and now he was using it to conceal emotions from his closest friends. He did not understand what he was feeling himself and, if he was not careful, he was going to entangle an innocent woman, a woman who had to be protected from all the darkness in his soul, just as she must be protected from Woodruffe’s cruelty.
‘We are concerned, that is all.’ Cris de Feaux sat back and crossed his legs, the gleam on his Hessians a reproach to every other pair of boots in the room.
‘For both of you,’ Tess said, a crease of worry between her finely drawn brown brows.
‘You must admit, this affair is not going to be easy to carry off without scandal,’ Alex said. ‘Sherry?’
‘Loathe the stuff. Scandal is out of the question. We need to get Caroline out of this with as little gossip as possible.’ He slouched in the one remaining armchair, the one facing the jury, and concentrated on keeping the tension out of his expression. ‘Woodruffe must not find out where she is, let alone her father. The man beat her.’
