Threading her fingers into his hair, she kissed him back, giving herself the right to express everything she felt, everything she desired. Opening her mouth, she drew him in, leading him deeper into a fervid aerie of passionate delights that left both of them struggling for breath and her for sanity. Yet soon, even that much was not enough, her body hungering for more—much more.
“Would you like to come inside?” she asked, quivering as he cupped one of her breasts inside his palm for a gentle caress.
He kissed her twice more, skimming his mouth over her cheek and down the line of her throat, pausing to run his tongue over her wildly thrumming pulse. “Hmm, do you want me to come in?”
“Yes,” she admitted, her voice husky with need. “My bed is empty without you.”
He raised his head, his gaze warm as he met her eyes. “Does this mean, then, that you believe me now? That you trust I love you? Because I do, Gabriella. I love you so very, very much.”
A small measure of her passion faded, doubt rushing in to replace her pleasure. She stared, knowing she should just say “yes” and let their lives go forward. Tell him what he wanted to hear whether she truly believed it or not. But something within her refused to say the words, her tongue and her promises silent.
The light died in his gaze as suddenly as it had come, his arms sliding away. “I see.” He swallowed and looked away. “Well, perhaps it is still too soon. I think you should go inside and up to bed now.” His face was shuttered, jaw drawn tight as if he were in pain.
“Tony—”
Reaching over, he shoved open the door and leapt out, then reached up a hand to assist her from the coach. In silence, she accepted and allowed him to see her to her door.
Once there, he gave a curt bow. “Good evening, madam. I wish you sweet dreams.”
“Tony, please. Come inside and let us talk.”
He shot her a caustic glance. “About what? I think we’ve said it all.”
Behind her, a footman opened the door as Tony turned and stalked to his coach. After a curt order, the coachman flicked the reins and set the horses in motion.
She watched until the coach disappeared, only then retreating inside. With her footsteps like lead, she went up the stairs to her bedroom, all too aware he would not be joining her. Once inside, she slumped onto the mattress, her mind replaying the memory of his expression. He’d looked…crushed, like a man who’d just had his heart twisted from his chest. Had she put that look on his face, in his eyes? Had she hurt him that much? And if she had, then it could mean only one thing. He does love me!
Oh, God, what have I done? she whispered to herself.
Chapter Twenty-three
T ONY PACED ACROSS the Pendragons’ upstairs drawing room two mornings later, dejected thoughts tumbling through his mind.
“How about a cup of tea?” Julianna suggested. “Or would you rather I send for something stronger? A brandy, perhaps?”
At first he didn’t respond, then abruptly he stopped and turned to face her. “Thank you, no. Unfortunately spirits will not cure what ails me.”
A little frown settled between her delicate brows. “Well, at least have the tea and some cakes. You look as if you could do with food, and several hours’ rest as well. When is the last time you slept?”
“Yesterday, I don’t know.” He waved off the question with a hand. “All that isn’t important right now. I came here because I didn’t know who else to ask. You’re her friend and her aunt. You know her better than anyone else.”
Julianna folded her hands in her lap. “If ‘her’ is Gabriella, then I would say her friend Maude knows her quite a bit better than I. But I suspect you do not wish to wait long enough to contact Miss Woodcraft.”
“No. Besides, she would likely tell me to get stuffed and take a swim in the Thames.”
“I rather doubt she would make either of those suggestions,” Julianna replied, her lips twitching for a moment. “Nor do I believe she would be unwilling to help you. But what is it that has occurred? Something new besides the separation, I assume?”
He strode across the room, going to the window to gaze across the square at the Vesseys’ townhouse—Gabriella’s townhouse. For a moment, he looked for some sign of her before turning away. “She doesn’t believe me. I’ve told her I love her and she does not trust a word of it.”
Pausing, he strode back and dropped into a chair, reaching up to drag a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I don’t know what else to do. I’ve tried everything. Flowers, candy, jewelry. I’ve sent her notes and poems. I’ve been courting her this past month like some lovesick swain—appropriate, I suppose, since that is precisely what I am.”
A moment of silence fell before Julianna spoke. “You poor thing! You really do love her, don’t you?”
“What!” His head came up. “Yes, I love her, but obviously even you don’t believe me. How much plainer must I make it?”
“None. And I do believe you,” she said in a soothing tone. “But even you have to admit, after what you said to Ethan, she has valid reason to doubt.”
“Christ!” he swore, then just as quickly apologized. “Please do not remind me of that accursed conversation. How I wish I could take back that blighted day! If I could, everything would be right between us.” But it wasn’t. Heaven help me, he thought, I’ve made such a mess of everything!
Quiet despair crept over him, a soul-deep sadness that tore at his vitals in a way he’d never before known. “Perhaps I should just grant her the divorce she says she wants. Accept that this marriage is over between us and let her go. Maybe without me, she might be free to find some happiness. And I want her to be happy. More than anything, I need her to find joy.”
Julianna made a dismissive noise. “Well, she won’t be happy divorced from you, I can tell you that. In spite of whatever difficulties the two of you may be having at the moment, I know Gabriella loves you. A divorce would devastate her.”
A breath of hope rose again inside him. “Then why will she not believe me? What can I do to make her see how deeply I care? And I do, Julianna. I never thought I would love a woman the way I love her. Hell, I can’t even abide my own house these days because she isn’t in it.”
Julianna smiled. “Then we must find a way to convince Gabriella of your devotion and coax her back home. She’s just scared, you know. Afraid of being hurt yet again.”
“Well, she won’t be,” he defended. “And I will prove it to her if she will only give me the chance.”
“Let’s see,” Julianna mused, tapping a finger against her chin. “Obviously none of the usual cajoleries will work, so you’ll need something stronger, something she will find impossible to refute or ignore.”
“And what might that be? I mean, how do you prove an emotion?”
“By example, generally. Or in extreme circumstances, such as this one, by doing something you would not ordinarily do. I think you need to make a grand gesture.”
“A grand gesture? And what would that be exactly?”
“Oh, I couldn’t say; that will be up to you to decide. But I know you will think of something, since you are a man of extraordinarily persuasive abilities. Just remember that she loves you, Tony, and everything will come right.”
Everything will be well, Gabriella repeated to herself five days later as she walked into the Duke of Raeburn’s crowded London ballroom. Tonight’s gala festivities were rumored to be one of “the” events of the Season, drawing at least half the members of the Ton—the better half, she’d overheard someone boast a few days ago.
Nevertheless, she’d almost decided not to come. But when she mentioned her reluctance to Julianna, her friend had convinced her to change her mind.
“But you must come,” Julianna stated. “Everyone will be there. It’s even rumored they will be having fireworks, ordered by the prospective bride, Lady Jeannette herself. You wouldn’t want to miss that.”
“Oh, I don’t know. It sounds lively, but I haven’t been fee
ling much like having fun lately.”
“No, you’ve been quite blue-deviled, so a rousing party seems just what you need. I will not accept no for an answer. Rafe and I shall take you up in our coach, so all you need do is enjoy the evening.”
But now as she strolled across the ballroom, she had serious doubts that she would enjoy anything tonight. Julianna was right, though. She did need to shake off her mopes. Contrary to her usual optimistic nature, she had been seriously blue-deviled of late. Of course, dealing with bouts of morning sickness and unexpected waves of weariness didn’t help matters. Mostly, though, she was despondent over Tony.
Since that night in his coach, she hadn’t been able to get his face out of her mind, continuing to see the expression of hurt in his eyes, to hear his earlier declaration of love. Obviously she had wounded him deeply, since he’d stopped calling upon her after that. Nor was he sending his usual assortment of gifts and cards to her, leaving her to wonder if her lack of faith had injured him so much that he’d decided to wash his hands of her, after all. Yet she knew she owed it to them both to make one last attempt to repair their faltering marriage.
After a nearly sleepless night, she’d realized it no longer mattered what she believed. She loved Tony, and that fact alone compelled her to give him her trust—and her devotion. If he honestly loved her, then all would be well. And if he did not, then she would spend her life striving to change his mind. Her life was with him—for better or worse, just as the vows said—and with him she would remain. Now, she had only to convince him to let her come back—to his arms and his bed and his life.
Which was another reason she had decided to attend the ball tonight, so that she and Tony might have an opportunity to talk. She’d considered going to Black House, but hadn’t been able to work up enough courage. But maybe she could get him alone, or at least see if he would agree to escort her home, and then she would tell him—not only what was in her heart, but also about the baby. He had a right to know he was going to be a father. No matter what, she would never deny him that.
Stopping at the refreshment table, she reached out to get a drink.
“The lime punch is quite good,” said a shy voice from nearby. Turning, she gazed at a pretty blonde in spectacles, her hands twisted into the folds of her plain white gown.
“Lady Jeannette, is it not?”
The girl shook her head. “Oh no, I’m Violet. M-my sister is over there.” She nodded across the ballroom where an exquisitely dressed, stunningly coifed blonde beauty held court among a group of enthralled gentlemen and ladies. As the other girl turned to display her lovely profile, Gabriella saw the marked resemblance between the two sisters. Without Violet’s glasses, they were so close to identical she wondered how anyone could tell them apart.
“That’s right, you are twins,” Gabriella said. “I met your sister only briefly in the receiving line.”
“And Raeburn? Did you meet her betrothed as well?” Lady Violet asked, her gaze moving to linger on a tall, handsome man standing on the ballroom’s other side. Without knowing it, intense longing shone in Lady Violet’s eyes as she beheld the duke.
Heavens, Gabriella thought. Does she have feelings for him? But then she shook off the thought, aware she had her own duke to worry about. “The lime punch, did you say?”
Violet turned back. “Y-yes. Forgive me, Your Grace. I did not mean to intrude upon you.”
“You haven’t. Not at all.” Taking a cup, she sipped her punch, finding it as refreshing as promised. A moment later, she saw Ethan with a very pregnant Lily at his side. “It’s been lovely talking, but if you will excuse me, some friends of mine have just arrived,” she said, setting down her cup.
“Of course. I see my friend Eliza as well.” Lady Violet waved to a mousy-looking girl attired in a dreadful pea-green gown. The mousy girl waved back.
Parting, Gabriella made her way toward Ethan and Lily. Only moments after reaching them, Tony appeared. Her pulse hurried faster as he made her an elegant bow.
“Gabriella,” he said, his voice low and smooth as whisky. “Would you do me the honor of the next dance?”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
After a couple of minutes’ conversation with Ethan and Lily, she and Tony made their way to the dance floor. As the music began, he led her into a waltz, the sensation of being held again in his arms wonderful, even magical. Neither of them spoke, so many thoughts and emotions whirling around in her head that she feared she might not be able to express them all, or at least not adequately.
“Tony, I…I wonder if we might speak later. I…I have things I need to say.”
A mild frown creased his brow. “I have things to say to you as well. In the garden perhaps, before tonight’s fireworks?”
A lump caught in her throat as she forced herself to nod her head in agreement.
But nearly two hours later as she stood on the terrace, she feared she might have made a mistake. For one thing, there were far too many people out-of-doors for any sort of private conversation, guests making their way from the townhouse so they could enjoy the coming show. For another, she was worried over what he might be planning to say. Mercy, she mused, surely he hasn’t decided to end things between us? She didn’t know what she would do if he had. Plead, perhaps?
But then the time for indecision was over as Tony strode across the stone terrace toward her, the light from the house casting his gorgeous features into prominence. When he reached her, she tried to draw him away, wanting to be alone. Only he resisted, taking her arm instead to pull her forward so she stood in a pool of golden illumination that she imagined must look like a kind of theatrical footlight in the gathering darkness.
“Tony, let us go back inside,” she urged.
“No, not yet,” he said. Turning, he raised a hand to draw the crowd’s attention. “Everyone,” he said, projecting his deep voice. “I have something to say, something of extreme importance that I would like all of you to witness and share.”
Witness and share! What is he doing? Confusion rippled through her, then a twinge of alarm. Subtly, she tried to pull out of his grasp, but he held tight, clasping her hand so she could not possibly get away. Trembling, she held her place, her heart beating out a crazy tattoo.
“As I am sure all of you know, my wife and I have lately been living apart.”
“Tony,” she hissed under her breath. “Stop this! What are you doing?”
But he ignored her, retaining his hold upon her as he continued to speak. “This has been a situation of great distress for us both, but I am hoping all that will end tonight.”
End tonight! Oh, dear Lord, is he going to cast me aside? Publicly? She closed her eyes and struggled not to faint. Sensing him changing position, she opened her eyes enough to peek, her gaze growing wide when she found him on one knee before her, her hand clasped inside his.
“My dearest Gabriella,” he intoned. “I want to say what is in my heart before you and all these good people. I am doing this without shame or pride, so there can be no misunderstanding and no more doubts. I love you with everything I am and all that I possess. Since we met, there has been no one else. There can be no one else because you are the only one. My only true love.”
She couldn’t breathe, her lips parting in astonishment at his words.
“I used to say that I would never beg—woman or man—but I am here before you tonight begging you to forgive me for any hurt I have caused. Beseeching you to believe me when I tell you that I love you and cannot live another day knowing we are apart. Wherever you are, that is where you will find my heart. Where you go, that is where I long to be. If you cannot bear the sight of me, tell me now and I will leave you in peace. But if you return my affection, pray end my present misery and say you will be mine.”
Gabriella’s breath caught in her chest. “Oh, Tony. Oh my love,” she whispered. Tugging him to his feet, she threw her arms around him. “Of course I will be yours. Don’t you know, I already am.”
&n
bsp; His lips met hers in a fervid, ardent kiss while around them people broke into thunderous applause. She barely heard the commotion, however, too overwhelmed by the joy and relief in her heart.
At length he broke their kiss, pressing his cheek to hers so no one else would hear. “Forgive me if I embarrassed you with this, my love,” he whispered. “But I did not know what else to do. I could think of no other way to reach you.”
“No, no it’s all right,” she told him. “I’ve been so stubborn—too much so and for far too long. Everything you said tonight was so beautiful, but you had only to wait a few minutes more and I would have come to you, to say I love you. To ask if I may come home.”
He squeezed her closer into his embrace. “Of course you may.”
“I don’t want to be anywhere but with you either. And I was wrong for not believing you, not trusting you when you told me how you felt. I’m sorry, so sorry, love.”
“Don’t be. You were right to do what you did. You were right all along. I’ve been such a fool!”
She smiled and stroked his cheek. “We both have.”
“Hey, you two. Are you done cooing?” Ethan asked, grinning at them. “I think they want to start the fireworks.”
“Tell them to wait a minute,” Tony ordered. “I have one more thing to do.” Reaching into his waistcoat, he drew out a small, black velvet-covered box, then turned to take Gabriella’s hand. “My love, I didn’t do this right the first time. We rushed to the altar and not for the reason that should have counted most.” Opening the box, he drew out a shimmering gold ring. “Gabriella St. George Black, will you marry me? Again? I want us to wed for love this time, so there will never be any doubt between us. We can even post the banns and hold a big church wedding, if that is what you want.”
Tears slid down her cheeks. “I don’t need all that, I only need you. But yes, I would love to marry you again. Our anniversary is soon. We could do it then.”
His Favorite Mistress Page 32
