Her Secret Lover

by Sara Bennett

  And now he was here, beside her, real and in the flesh, and she didn’t know what to feel. So she sat stiffly, keeping a firm rein on herself, anxiously avoiding touching him. Because what if she were to give herself away and he guessed just how much she wanted him? What if he laughed in her face, or worse, decided to be kind to her and grant her wish of one more night together?

  “We’re here.”

  She looked up, startled. He was watching her. His gaze caressed her face, taking in each feature, and then he sighed and cupped her chin in the palm of his hand.

  “Don’t look so worried, sparrow,” he murmured, and kissed her lips gently, barely a brush of naked flesh, but one she felt to the very tips of her toes.

  He turned away and climbed out of the cab, handing her down and ushering her into a building with a brass plaque fastened beside the door which said “Thorne Detective Agency.”

  Gabriel knew Martin and Lil O’Donnelly well. They ran the Thorne Detective Agency, and were known for their discretion as well as their success rate. As soon as Antoinette had mentioned her need for information, he’d thought of them.

  Lil sat Antoinette down, offering refreshments, smiling and friendly, and Gabriel watched her slowly relax and unfurl, like a tightly closed flower that has been afraid to open. Anger simmered inside him at the thought of what she had been through because of Appleby, and his anger included himself. He’d contributed to her distress, even though he’d done so unwittingly.

  But he was aware of other emotions swirling around inside him, too. There was relief, because she wasn’t Appleby’s mistress after all and there was no “duke” waiting to set her up in style. His initial instinct, that she wasn’t the woman she’d been portrayed, was correct. He wasn’t going out of his mind. And then there was a chance that he might claim her for himself, when this was over.

  And Gabriel wanted to. He just didn’t quite know how to go about persuading her it was the right thing for them both.

  “I’ll have the information for you by this evening,” Martin’s words seeped through his thoughts. “I know someone who knows someone, if you know what I mean, Gabriel.”

  “I know what you mean.” Gabriel smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Can I ask why you wish to find this patient?”

  Gabriel glanced at Antoinette for approval in giving up what was, after all, her secret. She nodded.

  “Do you know Lord Appleby, Martin?”

  “I know of him.”

  “He claims to be a widower, but Miss Dupre has discovered his wife is locked away in an asylum.”

  Martin gave a silent whistle.

  “Oh, Gabriel,” Lil declared, “does that mean you can get your manor back? And Madame Aphrodite will be able to open her club again?”

  “I hope so. At the moment she and Jemmy Dobson sit twiddling their thumbs all evening.”

  “Oh dear.” Lil turned to Antoinette. “And what of you, Miss Dupre? What will Lord Appleby’s downfall mean to you?”

  Antoinette smiled. “I’ll be free to return to Surrey. I have a house there and I am mistress of it, and I live my life very much as I please.”

  “An independent woman,” Gabriel said.

  “Yes.” She lifted her chin as if preparing for a fight.

  “So you spend your days ordering your servants, tallying your accounts, checking that Cook hasn’t sold off the best ham?”

  “I also visit friends and go riding, I read and write letters, I walk in my garden, I chat with my sister. I am very happy with my life, thank you. And my cook has never sold my ham in her life.”

  “You haven’t mentioned any suitors calling, Miss Dupre. No gentlemen who escort you to church on Sundays or call on a pretext so that they can admire your beautiful eyes?”

  She wrinkled her brow at him. “There was one who wrote me very bad poetry. I’m afraid I didn’t accept his proposal. I don’t think there is a single man of my acquaintance I could think of marrying with any certainty of being happy.”

  Gabriel caught Martin and Lil exchanging a glance. They were amused by the conversation, but he felt frustrated. He wanted her to admit she missed him, that her life was not complete without him. He wanted some hint that he might win her if he set about it single-mindedly enough.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” was all he said.

  “And what of you, Gabriel?” Lil asked. “Is there a young lady you plan to make mistress of Wexmoor Manor?”

  Gabriel gave his wicked grin, pretending he wasn’t feeling lonely and depressed. “I only have one stipulation when it comes to a wife. She must never get seasick.”

  Martin and Lil laughed, but he noticed Antoinette didn’t.

  He knew then he must be in a bad way, because even that gave him hope.

  Chapter 30

  Antoinette announced she had a headache on the journey back to Aphrodite’s Club, and they sat in silence among the crush and noise. After supper she retired to her room, pleading tiredness, knowing she was a coward. But she didn’t want to sit up with Aphrodite and Gabriel, listening to them laughing and joking and making plans for a future without Lord Appleby. She wanted to be alone.

  Not that she blamed Aphrodite for sending Gabriel to meet her; she understood well enough that the two of them were close, nearly related, and Aphrodite wanted the best for Gabriel. It probably seemed very silly to the courtesan that the two of them should have mistaken matters so badly, when one well-chosen word would have ended all the misunderstandings. Looking back, she could see that now, of course she could, but at the time the atmosphere of suspicion and doubt and fear had made it impossible to distinguish friend from foe.

  So she stayed in her room, brooding.

  Besides, Aphrodite had a way of making her do things she hadn’t intended to do, and Antoinette was worried what she might make her do next. She couldn’t take much more of Gabriel Langley. One moment he was teasing her, trying to make her angry, and then he was gazing into her eyes as if she was the only woman in his world.

  She felt completely bewildered, a unique state for her.

  Of course, Antoinette knew that for all her accomplishments and abilities, she was an innocent when it came to men like him. She didn’t understand what he wanted from her, and why he couldn’t just come out and say it. It might be a little late in the day, but she’d learned honesty was best, and saying what one thought made life a great deal easier. If it wasn’t for Cecilia she’d go home right now and leave Gabriel Langley far behind.

  She turned over in her bed and stared into the darkness. The room was plain, with none of the ostentation she’d expected—no mirrors on the ceiling or scarlet draperies or lewd paintings. The building itself was echoingly quiet, and, from things the others had said, clearly very different from its usual glittering, frantic pandemonium.

  Was that the sort of life Gabriel lived?

  He was an adventurer at heart. His reckless behavior in holding up the coach, sailing down the coast single-handed, and making love to her in the woods in a thunderstorm, made that clear enough. He was wild and unpredictable and…completely, heartbreakingly captivating.

  Antoinette found herself smiling into her pillow and straightened her mouth. It wasn’t a laughing matter. When she was with him she acted in a very uncharacteristic way, a way that would deeply shock those who knew her well.

  She still didn’t know the answer to the question she’d asked herself at Wexmoor Manor. Had the real Antoinette Dupre, some wicked throwback to her wicked ancestress, been hiding all these years, just waiting to get out? Did Gabriel encourage her naughty side? Well, it couldn’t go on. Cecilia needed stability, a sister who would provide sensible advice, not someone who ran through mazes shedding her clothes, used a pistol to escape in a rowboat, and made love to a masked highwayman.

  In time those brief, wild days would be nothing more than a fuzzy memory. What a relief that would be!

  Antoinette lay wide-eyed in the darkness, and wondered why, if she was doing the right th
ing, she felt so utterly bereft.

  Someone was shaking him. Hard. Reluctantly, Gabriel opened one eye. Jemmy’s battered face was looming over him, worry in his gray eyes.

  “Wake up,” he said in a quiet, urgent voice. “Appleby is downstairs with the police. He knows you’re here. You must get up and leave. Now.”

  The words brought him instantly to full wakefulness. He sat up, shocked. “How?” he spluttered.

  Jemmy sighed. “You’re not that innocent, are you, lad? There are always those who’re looking for a few easy sovereigns. Could have been one of the servants, although Aphrodite won’t believe that, or one of the boys who fetch the cabs and hold the horses, or even a passerby who noticed you and Miss Dupre coming and going. Right now ‘who’ isn’t important. What matters is you have to get away before you’re arrested.”

  Of course he was right. But Gabriel wasn’t going anywhere without Antoinette.

  “Is Miss Dupre awake?”

  Jemmy’s grim mouth twitched. “One of the girls is just doing that now.”

  Jemmy left and Gabriel dressed, running his fingers through his hair in lieu of a comb, and went out into the corridor. Jemmy was waiting for him. A moment later Antoinette peeped out of her own door, and seeing the two men, came to join them.

  Her eyes were wide and worried, and he wanted to hold her, comfort her, tell her it would be all right.

  He contented himself with a gruff “Don’t worry, he can’t stop us now.”

  “He must be desperate, to come here like this,” Jemmy added. “A good sign, I reckon. You have him on the run.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Antoinette murmured.

  They went toward the gallery. Gabriel could see Madame Aphrodite and several of her household huddled in the foyer. Suddenly there was a violent pounding on the front door. Everything seemed to shake; even the glass in the chandelier tinkled.

  “Police! Let us in!” shouted a voice from outside. “Let us in or we’ll break the door down!”

  Aphrodite looked up at Jemmy and smiled. Her eyes glittered, her cheeks were flushed, and she looked as if she was enjoying herself, her boredom quite gone. “I will,” she called out, making her voice high and slightly hysterical, “when I find the key. Please wait.”

  Jemmy grinned back at her and then led the way into a room at the side of the house. He went to a wardrobe against the far wall, and when he opened the door Gabriel saw there was a hidden staircase built inside the wall, twisting down into darkness.

  “Just in case our guests want to make a hasty exit,” he explained, as the other two peered over his shoulder. “Now, I’ll go first, then Miss Dupre, then you, Gabriel. Remember to close the door behind you.”

  The narrow stairs required their full attention, and no one spoke until they reached the small and dingy room at the bottom. Jemmy searched about on the wall above his head and gave a grunt of satisfaction. Another door clicked open, and he pushed it carefully ajar, peering out.

  They were looking out onto the narrow alley that ran down this side of the club. It was barely wide enough for a man to walk along, and a shrub was planted strategically between the door and the street, to hide any comings and goings.

  Gabriel had been aware of the noise from the police as they hammered at the front door, but now there was a splintering crash and a scream, followed by Aphrodite’s voice, rising in fury. “My door! You fools, you imbeciles, I told you to wait until I found the key!” The sounds faded as the two parties moved farther inside the club. Gabriel knew they didn’t have long. Soon the police would realize their quarry had flown and begin to search outward from the perimeter.

  Jemmy beckoned them along the alley to the street, pressing himself to the wall and peering around the corner. He jumped back, holding up a warning hand. Gabriel had been right behind him, and he’d caught a glimpse of what startled him. There was a man in a top hat standing, smoking, under the portico outside the front door. Even in that brief moment Gabriel had recognized him by his stance and the inevitable cane gripped in his hand.

  It was Lord Appleby.

  Gabriel made a sound, and Antoinette stretched out her hand to grasp his. He squeezed her fingers, thinking she was afraid, but she whispered, “Don’t do anything reckless, please,” and he understood she was holding his hand to stop his misbehaving rather than for comfort for herself. They waited and Jemmy glanced around the corner again. He gave a grunt of relief. Appleby had finished his cigar and followed the police inside.

  “We must hurry,” Jemmy said, and led the way out to the street and around the next corner. There was an area here where hansom cabs and hackneys waited for trade. They’d had a slim time of it since Aphrodite’s Club closed, and when they saw three possible customers coming toward them, some of the drivers began to call out excitedly, offering reduced fares.

  Jemmy chose a hackney and bustled them into it, glancing nervously behind. “Take care,” he said, banging on the door to signal to the driver to proceed.

  The hackney lurched forward and rattled away. As it moved out into the street they’d just left, Gabriel peered out of the window and could see Aphrodite’s Club, with its door smashed and leaning drunkenly to one side. Light spilled onto the front steps, but there was no sign of the police or Appleby.

  He leaned back with a chuckle.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Antoinette said accusingly.

  “Of course. Aren’t you?”

  “No, I don’t enjoy running for my life every few days, being pursued by people who want to lock me up or take my money, never knowing what to expect next.”

  He searched her profile, wondering if she was serious. “Doesn’t the excitement of it make you feel alive?” he ventured.

  “No.”

  “When I chased you from the schoolroom and caught you, you seemed excited, darling. Very excited. Don’t you remember?”

  She bit her lip.

  Gabriel leaned closer and whispered in her ear, making her jump. “I think you’re fibbing to yourself. You love living on a knife edge. If I kissed you now you’d be in my arms like a shot.”

  Even in the dim light of the hackney lantern he could see that her color was high. “If you think that, then you don’t know me at all.”

  “Don’t I, darling?”

  She was as rigid as a lamppost, and he wondered whether he should stop, just leave her alone, but he also knew she wasn’t being truthful with him.

  He pressed his lips to her cheek, enjoying her soft skin and the scent of woman. His woman. He trailed the kiss across her skin to the corner of her mouth, taking his time. She made a sound that could have meant anything. He worked on her lower lip, running the tip of his tongue back and forth. She made another sound, and this time there was no mistaking her meaning.

  Miss Dupre liked what he was doing.

  He kissed her properly now, parting her lips and sliding his tongue against hers. His hand cupped the back of her head, and he made the most of her response. Very soon she was beyond thought, caught up in the heat of their passion.

  Satisfied he’d proved his point, Gabriel sat back in his corner of the hackney and waited. After a moment she opened her eyes, and the dreamy expression cleared from her face. “I hope you’re satisfied,” she hissed, and patted her hair, refusing to look at him.

  “You know I’m not,” he replied with a sigh. “I’m extremely unsatisfied.”

  The hackney slowed, and for the first time she seemed to notice they were over on the other side of the river, in Lambeth.

  “Where are we going?” she said sharply.

  Gabriel smiled. “We’re going to visit Lady Appleby.”

  “Martin O’Donnelly sent word after you’d gone up to bed,” Gabriel explained. “It seems that when the asylum burned down she was moved into a smaller establishment, beside the river, but still in Lambeth.”

  A moment later the hackney set them down. A single gas lamp fought a losing battle with the shadows. Antoinette could smell the
dankness of the river, although it was hidden from view by fog. Gabriel pointed out the house that was their destination, and Antoinette saw a narrow brick frontage, a bare garden, and the flicker of light behind the curtain in an upstairs window.

  “Someone is about.” Gabriel led the way to the front door. “Are you ready for this, sparrow?”

  “Of course I’m ready,” she said, as if there was never any doubt.

  He rapped on the door.

  Footsteps and muttering, and the sound of a bolt being drawn. The door opened and a wizened face peered out, so wrinkled and discolored it reminded Antoinette of an apple that had been in storage all winter. “What you want?” it demanded rudely. “We don’t take parish cases. This is a private establishment.”

  “I wish to see one of your patients,” Gabriel announced pompously. “I am Dr. Long and I have here the sister of Mrs. Miller. Open up, my good chap, and let us in.”

  Antoinette was so astonished by his ability to playact that she nearly missed the wary reply.

  “I don’t know whether we ’as anyone of that name here.”

  “Now listen to me, my good man.” Gabriel’s voice turned belligerent. “I don’t have time to stand out here in this blasted fog. When I ask—”

  But Antoinette had remembered something in Miss Bridewell’s letter. “Orange,” she burst out.

  The wizened face turned to her, and then it grinned toothlessly and was withdrawn. They heard more bolts and locks being turned, and the next moment the door swung wide open.

  “Come in, come in,” it invited them jovially. “Welcome to River View Asylum.”

  Chapter 31

  The little old creature was a man, Antoinette saw now, attired in a nightgown and slippers, and with a nightcap on his head. Bizarrely, he reminded her of the boy from the nursery rhyme Wee Willie Winkie, except he wasn’t a child.

  “She’s asleep. You’re going to wake her up,” he complained as he stomped up the stairs. “Takes us hours to get her to sleep sometimes.”