It was not long before they spotted the earl in his formal black evening attire casually leaning against the banister leading up to the boxes. He should have been the one to garner all the attention in the theatre with his handsome face. And yet for all his looks and charm, Olivia had no desire to wrap herself around him and get lost in his reputed skills. She glanced at the man next to her and wondered for the hundredth time what it was about Gabriel that set her body on fire—correction, had set her body on fire. Now he would simply be the man she’d married and once lived with.
Directing her attention back to Lord Hartwick, she watched him speak to a dark-haired woman dressed in a silvery-blue gown. Although one might think he was taken with his companion, Olivia could see his attention was on the crowd of people moving around him. Then his vibrant blue-eyed gaze locked with Gabriel’s. When he shifted his focus to Olivia, he raised an inquisitive brow.
After excusing himself to his companion, Hartwick strolled up to them. ‘Now I will say what everyone in this room is thinking. I am surprised to see the two of you together. Care to share?’ he said with tilt of his head.
‘Not in the least,’ Gabriel replied.
Hartwick let out a deep chuckle and looked past Olivia to continue studying the crowd.
‘We have to alter our plans,’ Gabriel commented, flecking a speck from his shoulder. ‘Our French friend is being detained in a safe location even as we speak. Has Prinny arrived?’
Hartwick raked his gloved hand through his hair, moving a shiny black lock out of his eyes. ‘He has. Looking a tad sour, if you ask me.’ He attempted to suppress a grin and then took measure of Olivia.
She shifted slightly under his piercing gaze.
‘This is an interesting conversation for us to have,’ he continued.
Olivia pulled her shoulders back and smiled warmly as if he paid her the nicest compliment. ‘Situations have been brought to my attention due to unforeseen circumstances that required it. I assure you, I am the soul of discretion, my lord.’
He nodded slowly and tossed his head to the side to shift the lock of hair that found its way back over his eye. ‘You always have been, madam. Now you know two of my secrets and I know none of yours. That does not seem at all fair.’
That small bit of information had not gone unnoticed by Gabriel, who looked down at her with a questioning gaze. There was no need to inform him she’d helped the earl avoid an unfortunate encounter with an unhappy husband by pulling him into her room at a house party two years ago.
Hartwick stepped a bit closer. ‘So now I suppose you wish me to inform everyone they are no longer in search of the Frenchman.’
‘That would be most helpful. I still want them to be diligent. There is no harm in remaining alert for the rest of the evening,’ Gabriel replied.
Two fashionable women walked slowly past them and giggled behind their fans at Hartwick’s obvious attention.
Olivia’s attention wandered as she let the men discuss whatever it was men discussed when they were together. She watched the people moving up the staircase on their way to the boxes when her eyes settled on a willowy, dark-haired woman with fine features and a prominent dark brow. She was dressed in black and was not completely hidden by the moving crowd. Straining her neck, Olivia moved away from the men to get a better view of the woman’s face. Some distant memory tugged at her as she tried to place how she knew the woman.
The slight pressure at her right elbow made her jump and she looked over, realising Gabriel had followed her.
‘What is it?’ he asked, leaning down with keen interest.
‘I thought I saw someone I might have known.’ She tightened her cloak. ‘Shall we see how Prinny is faring, or do we need to locate more of your acquaintances?’
He led her to the stairs by her elbow. ‘No, I believe Prinny will be very happy to see us. Let’s not keep him waiting.’
They were granted permission to enter from the guards standing outside the royal box. As she crossed the threshold the sight of ‘Prinny’ in the second row of the otherwise empty box gave her pause. The man wore a wig that so closely resembled Prinny’s own hair, one would think it was made from strands gathered from the Regent’s own head. He was in profile, but his puffy cheeks marked him as an accurate replica of her friend.
The impostor turned his head to face them and Gabriel executed a respectful bow. It took a moment for Olivia to gather herself to curtsy. He appeared surprised to see them and eyed both of them from top to bottom before standing up and walking to the back corner of the box.
‘My, this is a surprise, don’t you know?’ came the deep voice she knew she’d heard before.
Looking into a pair of familiar hazel eyes, she recognised Andrew at once.
‘You?’
‘Aye, it’s me. Wot, wot? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, my dear.’
It was difficult to keep a straight face with Andrew using a number of Prinny’s favourite sayings—sayings Andrew would never think to use.
‘You appear well,’ Gabriel said.
‘Prinny’ smiled and patted his stomach as an array of serving trays were added to the table set out with at least ten trays of delicacies against the wall. ‘The selection is impressive.’ He leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Do you have news for me, or is this simply a social call?’
‘Our Frenchman is secured in Richmond.’
‘How?’
‘Imagine my surprise when I realised his house was my destination this evening.’
Andrew looked at Olivia, giving her a thorough appraisal. ‘That’s an interesting destination in light of this evening’s plans.’
‘I had nothing to do with that,’ she stated firmly, looking him square in the eye.
‘And yet, you sought him out.’
‘To give him tokens to my box. He was to join me here tonight.’ Could Andrew truly be questioning her motivation? ‘Are you insinuating—?’
Gabriel stepped closer to her. ‘There is no insinuation. Is there?’
Andrew shifted his gaze back and forth between them. ‘If you feel there is no reason to make one.’
‘There is not. Olivia is responsible for his capture.’
‘And how did she do that?’
She pulled her shoulders back and raised her chin. ‘With a brooch and a vase.’
Andrew jerked his head back. ‘Surely I misheard.’
‘You did not.’
He turned to Gabriel. ‘So you do have an accurate assessment of her character.’
Gabriel crossed his arms and let out a breath. ‘I told you.’
‘Told him what?’
‘That you have a temper.’
She pressed her lips together and gave her right glove a firm tug. ‘Well, in a few short hours, Gabriel, you won’t have the opportunity to witness my temper.’
He placed his hands on his hips in a commanding stance. ‘That is up for debate.’
She unintentionally mimicked his posture. ‘No, it is not.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘No, it is not.’
Andrew cleared his throat. ‘Well it was lovely chatting with you. Think I’ll see what the footmen have brought me before it turns cold. Don’t you know? Wot? Wot?’
They stood staring at one another, silently daring the other to move. Olivia won when Gabriel pulled her by the arm out into the hall.
‘We are settling this right now.’
She tugged her arm out of his grasp. ‘I am not discussing anything with you in the hallway of Drury Lane.’
‘Then we will adjourn to our box, but make no mistake, Duchess, we are having this discussion.’
The riotous applause and cheering from the audience broke the silence between them as he dragged her into their box. Sto
rming to the front, he jerked the curtains closed. Apparently he wasn’t considering what people would think about the curtains being drawn in their box after they had been seen together earlier.
He advanced on her so he stood less than a foot away. ‘You are not leaving me.’
Even with his noble actions, she could not forgive this last betrayal—and it would be the last. She could not endure crushing hurt like this again.
‘It is obvious I am not enough for you. When I send out cards with my new address it will cease the chatter about us and everyone will know we care nothing for one another.’
All of Britain might believe that, but deep down she knew she still loved him and probably always would. Physical distance was the only solution she had to save what was left of her heart.
He grabbed both her hands, and she tried to pull away. His grasp tightened, though not painfully. ‘There is no one else I need. You are more than enough for me.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘I have sacrificed much for what I do, but I will no longer sacrifice my marriage with you.’
‘Fire! Fire!’ The shout came from right outside their box.
Olivia turned towards the door and sucked in a deep exploratory breath. There was a faint scent of wood burning. They needed to leave right away.
‘Andrew,’ Gabriel muttered and tugged her by the hand, hauling them out into the hall.
Chapter Twenty-One
Still grasping Olivia’s hand, Gabriel stopped outside their box and scanned the crowd of people stampeding past them on their way to the staircase. Panicked shouts and cries echoed off the walls as people sought out friends and family. A door diagonal from them was open and men were already forming a bucket brigade and throwing water into the smoking room.
This was impossible. He didn’t even know who to look for.
Andrew exited the royal box behind two guards. His knowing gaze shot to Gabriel. He nodded in agreement that this was no coincidence. They needed Andrew out of the theatre quickly before it either burnt down or he was murdered.
A damp woodsy smell filled the hall as panicked people continued to run past them, shouting for their friends and warning everyone to run for their lives. This was a diversion. Gabriel knew it. He was just about to yell to Andrew to return to the royal box, when Olivia tugged at his sleeve.
‘There she is, the woman in black. She’s working with Janvier.’ She was pointing to a tall thin woman with dark hair, standing thirty feet from them staring at Andrew.
Before he could ask about her assumption, the woman pulled a gun from her reticule and aimed it at his brother.
In an instant he was back in the garden in Richmond years earlier. Peter was pointing a gun at him. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t allow you to stop their plan,’ his uncle had said, looking down at him and cocking the hammer of the pistol.
Gabriel closed his eyes at the resignation on his uncle’s face, preparing for the end. The bullet ripped through his torso, taking his breath with it. Then he heard Peter cock back the hammer of the second barrel. He was aiming the gun now at Gabriel’s head. Then suddenly a shot rang out and his uncle fell back. Andrew had come out of nowhere and saved him, killing Peter in the process.
He could never stand by and watch Andrew die. Jumping between the barrel of the woman’s pistol and Andrew, Gabriel tackled his brother to the ground—and felt the burn of a bullet bury itself in his shoulder.
* * *
The crack of gunfire tore through the commotion in the hall, and Olivia watched a number of men tackle the woman in black to the ground. After wrestling the gun out of her hand, they held her firmly to the ground.
‘Murder, murder.’
‘Has His Highness been shot?’
‘We have her. We have the cutthroat.’
‘The Duke of Winterbourne has saved His Highness.’
‘Oh, my God, is he dead?’
That last shout turned her legs to jelly and she looked over at the motionless form of her husband, lying atop Andrew. A stain of dark crimson was spreading near the shoulder of his coat.
Why wasn’t he moving?
She ran to him, dropping to her knees just as he let out an agonised groan of pain.
‘See that she is secure,’ she yelled to the guard closest to her. ‘And do not let them take her anywhere until you hear from His Royal Highness what should be done with her.’
Gabriel lifted himself off Andrew while clutching his right shoulder and fell back against the wall. Blood oozed through his gloved fingers. The pain must have been excruciating, if his grimace was any indication. ‘Bloody hell, I hate being shot,’ he gritted through his teeth.
Seeing him like this was making Olivia’s hands shake. He was too young to die.
Blast him for making her feel anything towards him beside anger and betrayal. Part of her wanted to cradle him in her arms and take away his pain. Another part of her wanted to rail at him for jumping in the path of a bullet and getting shot. What was the appropriate thing to say to someone at a time like this?
‘You need to find a new hobby.’
A spurt of laughter sneaked out between his clenched teeth before he pressed his lips together.
Shouting continued around them as people began to ignore the extinguished fire and focus their attention on the man who’d saved ‘Prince George’.
Andrew knelt next to him, concern etched across his fake brows. ‘We need to get you home.’
* * *
Olivia stood near the window of her husband’s bedchamber, watching his valet dig a bullet out of his right shoulder. When had her life taken such an abrupt turn? She’d insisted they should call a physician, but Gabriel assured her Hodges would do a fine job. After what felt like an hour of digging, she wasn’t certain that was the case.
Thunder rumbled and a flash of lightning exploded in the room as rain pelted the windowpanes. She rubbed the goose pimples on her arms and watched Bennett hold Gabriel’s shoulder down as Hodges continued to dig at the stubborn ball of lead. Gabriel’s hair was sticking up in all directions and his bare chest glistened with sweat in the glow of the candlelight. Having the bullet removed must have been incredibly painful, even with the long drink of brandy he took before Hodges began his attack. Periodically he would clench his teeth, the veins in his neck straining as he pushed his head back into his pillows. His breathing was rapid and shallow, and his left hand was clenched into a tight fist, his knuckles visibly white.
At the next burst of lightning she walked slowly over to the bed. The coppery smell of blood filled the air. ‘What is taking so long?’
Hodges glanced up from his work. ‘The ball is lodged deep, near a bone.’ He began to dig again and Gabriel’s body stiffened.
She should stroke his brow. She should hold his hand. She should do something to offer him comfort. Instead she wrapped her arms around herself, unable to touch him. ‘Can’t we give him more brandy, or try laudanum?’
Hodges shook his head. ‘His Grace abhors laudanum. Best not to stop and just have at it.’
Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. ‘Tell me...about...the woman in black.’
He needed a distraction. That she could give. ‘I saw her with Janvier once outside Madame Devy’s. He had appeared unhappy that I had seen them together.’
He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut again.
There was a ‘clunk’ followed by the sound of the lead ball rolling around in the silver bowl. In unison Gabriel, Bennett and Olivia let out an audible sigh of relief.
‘It’s out,’ Hodges said, releasing a breath. ‘I’ll stitch it up and then attend to these bloody sheets.’
A large stack of sheets had been placed under Gabriel’s right shoulder. It appeared Hodges had previous experience handling situations such as this. How many times had Gabriel been shot? She recalled the
scar Nicholas had found on him. Were there others?
Her thoughts turned to Andrew, who had changed out of his disguise and headed to Richmond to see to the interrogation of the woman in black and Janvier. If she hadn’t spotted that woman...if she had not seen her with Janvier...would Andrew still be alive?
It wasn’t long before Gabriel’s wound was stitched, bandaged and the crimson sheets removed from under him. Hodges had given him another large glass of brandy before leaving the room with Bennett.
Now, they were alone.
Gabriel was taking gulps of brandy as he lay with his eyes closed, propped up by a mountain of pillows. His breathing was still erratic. Finally he handed over the empty glass and looked at her with sleepy eyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
‘Thank you for staying.’
‘Is there anything I can do to ease your pain?’
He blinked with heavy lids. ‘Do not leave me.’
She wasn’t sure if he meant for the time being or forever. Watching him endure the painful bullet extraction and knowing he had placed his own life before Andrew’s had jumbled her emotions. And she didn’t like it one bit. ‘I will be here should you need anything.’
In what felt like a few short moments, his breathing was deep and even. At least he could sleep.
Olivia tried to recall the last time she had been in the very masculine room, with its forest-green walls and dark furnishings. Her gaze skimmed over his large tester bed with the silk-brocade bed hangings and settled on the two wingback chairs by the fireplace. She would guard his bedside from there.
As she rested her head against the back of the chair, her eyes were drawn to a hint of beige cloth sticking out from under Gabriel’s bed. Getting down on her hands and knees, she pulled out a long rolled-up piece of canvas, tied with a black ribbon. Curious what he would keep in such an unusual location, she moved closer to the fireplace and untied the ribbon. The sight of her unfinished portrait left her breathless.
Gabriel hated the portrait. He must not have wanted anyone to find it. But why hadn’t he burned it? Or shot holes through it as he had done with the candles in their ballroom?
UNCOMMON DUKE, AN Page 22
