The Unexpected Marriage of Gabriel Stone (Lords of Disgrace)

by Louise Allen

  ‘Once a week and not too much wax, more elbow grease,’ Caroline said. That was what was advised in Mrs Pomfrett’s Household Management, the thick tome that was her night-time reading. ‘Too much wax builds up and dulls the shine.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. I’ll lay the table in your room, Mrs Crabtree. Almost time for luncheon.’

  That was another thing. Every meal had to be taken alone in the housekeeper’s parlour while the cheerful sounds of chatter from the servants’ hall echoed down the flagged passageway. She’d been tempted to prop a book up in front of her, but that was a bad example to the maids, so must be resisted. They relied on the training they received here for their next post, perhaps promotion to a bigger household, or cook-housekeeper to a widow or single gentleman. It all left far too much time to be thinking about a certain brown-eyed gentleman.

  ‘There’s a rider coming up the drive, Mrs Crabtree.’

  ‘Who can that be?’ Caroline squinted against the sunlight, heart pounding. A boyish rider on a chestnut hack with a rather shambling gait. Not a tall man on a fine piece of bloodstock. Of course not.

  ‘Close the front door, alert William that someone is coming. Possibly they are lost and want directions.’

  She followed the scurrying maid towards the back of the hall and waited in the shadows while the footman emerged, tugged down his waistcoat and went to open the door.

  ‘Good morning, sir. I regret that none of the family is in residence.’

  ‘Well, I am now.’ The light, cheerful voice cracked mid-sentence, betraying the speaker’s nerves as well as his age. ‘I am Mr Anthony Holm and this is my house.’

  William’s gulp was audible. ‘Perhaps you would come through to the drawing room, sir, and I’ll fetch the housekeeper.’

  Caroline hardly caught a glimpse of her brother before William had him shut in the front room. She met the footman halfway across the hall.

  ‘Mrs Crabtree, ma’am, I didn’t know where to put myself! The poor young gentleman can’t know his father’s sold the estate to Lord Edenbridge.’ That was the story she had told the staff, not wanting to expose her father’s folly at gambling it away.

  ‘I’ll go and speak to him. Don’t bring refreshments until I ring.’ She went in and closed the door behind herself. ‘Anthony,’ she said quietly. ‘This is a surprise.’

  ‘Caro!’ He spun round from his contemplation of the view from the window, his face a mixture of pleasure, surprise and then, when he took in her costume, bafflement. ‘What on earth are you doing here dressed like that?’

  She hugged him fiercely, shaken by how much his gangling frame had grown since the last time she had held him. He was not her little brother any longer. ‘Oh, how I have missed you! Sit down and I’ll tell you everything—and then you must tell me how you got here.’

  She left out the offer to exchange her virginity for the deeds, saying instead that she had explained the situation to Gabriel and he had immediately returned them. When it came to her reasons for fleeing she told him only that Woodruffe had an unsavoury reputation. Even so, Anthony was clearly old enough to guess it was worse than she said.

  ‘The old devil,’ he gasped when he heard that their father had beaten her. His horror became fascination at the story of Gabriel’s imposture and he was boy enough to be vastly amused at the thought of an earl disguised as a hermit.

  ‘So here I am, guarding your inheritance and staying safe myself,’ Caroline finished.

  ‘He’s a great gun, isn’t he? Lord Edenbridge, I mean.’ Anthony’s face glowed with hero worship. ‘Father told me, just in passing, about losing Springbourne. I said what I thought, pretty loudly, and got a thrashing for my pains.’ He shrugged off her hands when she would have caught him to her for a hug and stuck out his chin pugnaciously. ‘I’d got an invitation to stay with Percy—you know, Herrick’s younger brother?—near London, so I went there. Father didn’t mind.

  ‘Then I called on Lord Edenbridge and he told me he was looking after the estate for me. His youngest brother was there, a bit of a stuffed shirt, I thought.’ His blue gaze slid round to her. ‘Edenbridge didn’t say anything about you.’ When she did not comment he shrugged. ‘Anyway, he advanced me some money from the estate, so I thought I’d come and have a look. May I stay?’

  ‘Of course you may.’ She just wanted to hold him and not let go. ‘But you must remember that you are here as a guest of Lord Edenbridge and I’ll let the staff know you were upset because of the estate being sold, but that the earl has allowed you to visit for a while. And you must call me Mrs Crabtree and treat me like the housekeeper. We can say that I knew you when you were a little boy, which is true and that will explain any familiarity.’

  ‘Crabtree?’

  ‘I realised I hadn’t thought of a name and when I arrived that was the first thing I saw,’ Caroline said defensively. ‘I think it sounds suitable for a housekeeper.’

  ‘Gnarled and vinegary,’ Anthony teased.

  ‘I’ll ring for luncheon. You’ll have to eat it in solitary splendour because it wouldn’t do for the housekeeper to sit down with you.’ As she stood up she glimpsed movement at the end of the drive. ‘A carriage is coming. Of all the bad timing! You had best stay out of sight. I do hope it isn’t Father.’

  Anthony leapt to his feet with an oath that had her scolding him.

  ‘Not in front of ladies, you brat! Look, it is a team of greys.’ She relaxed. Her father always drove bays. It was irrational, of course, this fear. There was not the slightest clue to bring him here, but even so, she kept waking in the night in a cold sweat of dread, fighting a nightmare of being dragged back to Knighton Park and Lord Woodruff’s grasping hands.

  ‘And very nice, too,’ Anthony said with a sigh of envy. ‘Real high-steppers. I’ll go into the back garden.’

  Caroline followed him out, called for William and retreated to the back of the hall again. She had not seen a single visitor all the time she had been at Springbourne except tradesmen and local people and now someone had to turn up hot on Anthony’s heels. This was like one of those farces with everyone diving behind sofas or into cupboards as more and more people arrived at inconvenient or compromising moments. It would make Gabriel laugh, she thought as William, peering through the glass at the side of the door, opened it before the caller could knock.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ said a very familiar voice. ‘I am Edenbridge.’

  ‘My lord.’ William sounded even more flustered than he had at Anthony’s arrival. She could hardly blame him: she was totally confused herself. And, she realised, very happy.

  ‘Might I come in?’ Gabriel enquired mildly.

  ‘Yes, of course, my lord. I do apologise, my lord, keeping you standing on your own doorstep.’ His ears and the back of his neck were crimson as he took Gabriel’s hat and gloves. ‘I’ll...er... Should I have luncheon sent up, my lord?’

  ‘Please do. This is the drawing room? Ask the housekeeper if she could join me at her convenience.’

  ‘Yes, my lord. Certainly, my lord.’ The footman closed the door and scurried to the back of the hall. ‘It’s Lord Edenbridge, Mrs Crabtree.’

  ‘Ask Cook to prepare luncheon for three and I will join the gentlemen. Go to Mr Holm and give him my compliments and tell him I will be with him as soon as possible.’ The staff would think it strange, but now the two of them were here she simply had to talk to them together. But Gabriel first. And alone.

  ‘Caroline.’ He came across the room to her, his hand stretched out, and it took her a second to realise he intended to shake hers, not gather her into his arms.

  Of course, you idiot. She smiled and offered her own hand and asked him to be seated with commendable composure. His hair had grown out of its strict crop since she had seen him last and his breeches, boots and riding coat were as carelessly thrown on as always, even though
he had come in a carriage and not on horseback.

  ‘How are you managing?’ he asked, studying her as she sat there looking, she was very aware, like a neat, dowdy housekeeper.

  ‘Very well, thank you, my lord. It is quiet, but there is plenty to keep me occupied. Might I ask what brings you here? Not a problem, I trust. Or perhaps you have become bored and fancied a change of scenery?’ That was bitter and she regretted the words as soon as she spoke them. They betrayed how much his parting words had hurt her. She had her pride.

  Gabriel did not make the mistake of apologising, which was sensible of him as well as preserving what dignity she had left. ‘Your brother Anthony arrived on my doorstep proposing to buy back Springbourne. It was necessary to explain the true circumstances to him. Your father had told him he had lost it and it occurred to me that he had not told you. For all Knighton knows you still believe this to be a family property, one where he never visits and somewhere you might think of as a sanctuary. I wanted to warn you and discuss how to mitigate the danger.’

  So her night-time fears were not so far-fetched after all if Gabriel shared them. ‘Thank you, I appreciate you taking the trouble to come in person.’ It sounded stilted, but perhaps she should be making the effort to distance herself with formality. It was too easy to yearn for the closeness that had been between them when Gabriel had been the hermit and she a fugitive.

  Caroline kept her gaze on her own hands, folded neatly in her lap, and not on his long, expressive fingers. ‘Anthony is here. He arrived very shortly before you did.’

  ‘The little devil! I advanced him some money, but I thought he was staying with a school friend. What is he doing here?’

  ‘Heaving a huge sigh of relief that it is his again, I suspect. He was taken aback to discover that the housekeeper, Mrs Crabtree, knew him very well.’

  ‘I am not surprised, Mrs Crabtree. We had better have a council of war, the three of us.’

  ‘That is what I thought. I told him about Woodruffe.’

  There was a tap on the door. ‘Luncheon is served, Mrs Crabtree.’

  ‘Thank you, William. Please ask Mr Holm to join us in the dining room.’

  Anthony came in, looking wary. ‘I heard your voice in the hall, Edenbridge. You’re wondering what I am doing here, I suppose?’

  ‘You may go where you please.’ Gabriel held the chair for Caroline, then took his own place opposite her. ‘I am not your guardian.’

  ‘I know, sir, but you gave me money and I let you think I was staying in London.’

  ‘I advanced you your own money. It is of no matter. Let us eat and think how best to handle the situation. I came because I was uneasy that your father might search here for Lady Caroline. We’re mired in a tangle of deceptions: I’m pretending to own this place, you are pretending you do not know it is now yours again and that your sister is hiding from her own father and posing as the housekeeper. I just hope you are a good actor, Anthony, because you are going to have to face your father and play the role of the disappointed son well enough to convince him that you are pining for Springbourne. And you’re a poor liar, I’ve noticed.’

  ‘I’m a good actor, though,’ Anthony said, reaching for a slice of cold beef. ‘I’ve acted at school and got some pretty enthusiastic reviews. And this is important, really important. It isn’t as though it is some little white lie I might forget about. I’ll sulk a bit and keep out of Father’s way, that’s what he’d expect.’

  ‘And what about you, Mrs Crabtree?’ He seemed to find the name as amusing as Anthony did.

  ‘I never answer the front door, of course. If my father does come, then I will leave by the back and hide in the woods. He could search for a year and not find me there.’

  ‘I suppose it will have to do.’ Gabriel looked unsatisfied, although it did not seem to be impairing his appetite.

  Caroline wondered whether to ring and tell Cook to send up the apple pie along with the cheese. She helped herself to the game pie before the two hungry males demolished it. ‘It gives me bad dreams, imagining he has found me,’ she confessed. ‘But I really do not think it is a serious risk. He is very self-centred and I don’t believe he thinks much about other people’s motives.’

  As she spoke the doorbell rang, followed by the thump of the knocker. ‘Who now? Really, after weeks of perfect peace the place is like the White Horse Cellar when the mails come in!’

  Then there was the sound of William opening the door and the voice of the caller and the footman’s agitated protests. Caroline dropped her knife with a clatter on her plate and Anthony jumped to his feet as the door swung open.

  ‘So you are here, boy, you impudent whelp.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Her father strode into the room, brushing past her as she froze, her back to the door. ‘I thought you were too meek when I told you about this place so I decided I had better check that you hadn’t sneaked off here. What in Hades do you think you’re doing? And who the devil are you?’ He moved closer to Gabriel, who stood up with leisurely, dangerous grace. Caroline edged her chair backwards. A few more inches and she could slide from her seat and tiptoe out.

  She stood, turned, and came face to face with Lucas.

  ‘Caroline!’

  ‘What?’ Her father swung round his face choleric with a mixture of surprise, temper and triumph. ‘You are both here? You plotted the whole thing, you disobedient little slut. What is Edenbridge going to do when he finds the pair of you skulking here?’

  Gabriel moved to stand between him and Caroline. ‘If you use language of that kind to Lady Caroline again I’ll floor you, Knighton, even if you are old enough to be my father.’

  ‘Edenbridge.’ Her father finally recognised who was standing in front of him. ‘What the blazes do you think you are playing at?’ His gaze swung back and forth between the three of them and then fixed back on Gabriel with dawning recognition. ‘You. You’re the hermit. Lucas, tell me I’m right. It’s that cursed Welsh hermit.’

  Lucas pushed past Caroline to stand at his father’s shoulder. ‘Yes, you are right. Take away that beard and change the voice and it’s the same man. But what is going on?’

  It was a nightmare, and when Gabriel swung round and cursed Anthony, it seemed to Caroline simply part of it.

  ‘You stupid brat, coming here with your idiotic pleas for her to go home. You led them here.’ He grabbed Anthony by the neckcloth and began to shake him, his face pressed close to the boy’s.

  Suddenly Anthony began to fight back. ‘I knew I had to when I found her here! It isn’t right, what you are doing, of course she should come home with me.’

  Gabriel made a sound of disgust and pushed him into his father’s arms. ‘Have the little prig. He turns up here whining that he wants just one more look at the place, finds us and reads us a fine sermon.’

  ‘You were trying to make her come back?’ Her father held Anthony away from him so he could look into his face.

  ‘Yes, sir. Of course. I was upset about the estate, and I shouldn’t have come here, but Caroline and that man...’

  He really can act, she thought. And Gabriel has saved him from total disgrace with my father and a beating, thank Heavens. But what am I going to do? Lucas had moved to block the door and it was too far to reach the window and scramble through, even if Gabriel held back her father and brother. They were two to his one and if they attacked him she knew she could never leave him and run. He might overcome them—he was strong and courageous—but her father always carried a knife in his boot and she knew he’d use it without scruple.

  ‘Good boy,’ he said now, pushing Anthony towards Lucas. ‘And as for you, my girl, I’ll have to sweeten the pot now to get Woodruffe to take you, damn it. Used goods.’

  ‘I will not warn you again, Knighton,’ Gabriel said. ‘I am marrying Lady Caroline and
no one threatens or abuses my fiancée.’

  ‘Marry her? You? Her reputation will be in the dirt after this.’

  Marry me?

  ‘Mine is not that wonderful,’ Gabriel said with a smile that was guaranteed to infuriate. ‘But as I will procure a special licence from my cousin, the Archbishop of Canterbury, that should help. Even better if he’ll marry us. I believe he’s at Lambeth Palace at the moment, which is convenient.’

  Her father expressed an opinion on what the archbishop could do with his crozier. ‘I refuse my consent.’

  ‘Lady Caroline is of age,’ Gabriel pointed out. He seemed perfectly calm, contemptuous even, her father’s rage breaking against him like a wave against a rock, with as much effect.

  ‘You’ll not see a penny piece of dowry from me.’ Her father was puce with frustrated rage now.

  ‘I do not need your money, Knighton, although that reminds me, you owe me a week’s wages for my stint as your hermit.’

  ‘Under false pretences! You inveigle your way into my home, you seduce my daughter—’

  Caroline finally found her voice. ‘Lord Edenbridge came to help because you were forcing me to marry Lord Woodruffe.’

  ‘Woodruffe will call you out,’ her father threatened Gabriel.

  ‘That lump of perverted lard is welcome to do so. I would enjoy puncturing him.’

  ‘And you, Lucas. What kind of brother are you? Why aren’t you calling him out?’

  ‘I imagine Lord Whiston has more common sense than to make the situation worse than it already is. Besides, I am not prepared to meet the man who is about to become my brother-in-law.’

  ‘Father, it has gone too far to stop. He’s an earl, he’s perfectly eligible, and she’s of age.’ Lucas stood his ground, perhaps given strength by the appeal to his reasonableness. ‘He’s an earl, a better match than Woodruffe, after all.’

  ‘Not for the family, he isn’t. He won’t bring me land.’ He switched his attention back to Gabriel. ‘What about settlements?’