“Does it show on my face?”
Drew roughly grabbed him next. “No, but we know you. Perhaps it was a bad idea for you to come tonight. I thought you might have a moment to speak to Gabby, but Thorne has set up camp at her side.”
“I don’t think she would speak with me in any case. She wouldn’t even look my way.”
“Let’s find a tavern and have an ale,” Luke said, his pitying frown almost more than Anthony could take. “Just like the old days.”
Drew’s lopsided grin appeared. “Perhaps not too much like the old days. My sweet wife would demand my bollocks as payment, and I’ve grown rather fond of them.”
Anthony offered a halfhearted chuckle for his friend’s attempt to lighten the mood, but even halfhearted required too much effort. He didn’t want to visit a tavern, but he wanted to go home even less. “Very well. Lead the way.”
As they passed through the ballroom, Anthony couldn’t take his eyes off Gabby. She stood with a group of ladies as they chatted together, but she had a faraway look to her gaze. Thorne was still at her side. When everyone laughed, Gabby’s smile was delayed. Perhaps she wasn’t as happy as she’d been pretending.
Thorne glanced in Anthony’s direction and pulled Gabby closer. Every muscle in Anthony’s body tensed and hatred flooded his veins. He and Thorne had never had a typical friendship, but they’d been far from sworn enemies. Until now.
***
Gabby’s rigid backbone dissolved the moment Anthony left the ballroom with her brothers. She knew Drew had told him where she would be this evening. Her brother had pulled her aside and told her as soon as she had arrived. At once, she’d experienced a surge of energy and her breath had come quickly. Then her betrothed had approached, and she’d realized she no longer had the freedom to speak with whomever she wished.
She would have no freedoms, except for the ones her husband would allow. How could it be that Anthony would no longer be part of her life in any capacity? The thought weighed her down.
Lord Thorne gently grasped her elbow; his touch was warm against her bare skin. “Would you like to take some fresh air, my lady? The ballroom is stuffy this evening.”
She nodded and accepted his escort to the terrace. The outside air seemed as heavy to her as it had been in the ballroom, but it was quieter. He led her toward a corner of the terrace, away from the other couples. Torchlight danced across the stone when a slight breeze blew.
“How are the preparations for our wedding coming?” he asked.
“I was fitted for a gown yesterday, and Mama posted the last of the invitations today.”
He turned her so she was facing him and frowned. “I do wish you were happier about the prospect of becoming my wife, even though I don’t deserve your good favor.”
She blinked, surprised by his statement.
“I never meant to force you into marriage, Gabrielle. I hope someday you might forgive me.” His dark eyes shone with regret, and the anger bubbling under her surface receded a little. “I wanted you to choose me, and I thought you might if I showed you how caring and tender I can be. If I had known your mother would walk in when she did…”
“The kiss never should have happened.”
He flinched and she regretted her sharp tone. It wouldn’t do to start their marriage at odds with one another. He had never shown an inclination toward unkindness, but she didn’t really know him either. The baron could be a different man behind closed doors, although in truth she doubted he would ever be cruel.
She sighed, wishing this entire affair didn’t require so much energy. “I’m as much to blame as you, my lord. I should have called for a chaperone before receiving you.”
His face fell. “You really want nothing to do with me.”
“That’s not true…” Well, perhaps it was, but since they were stuck in this situation together, it seemed unwise to admit it.
“If you want to cry off, I’ll release you without consequence. I would never wish to marry a lady who doesn’t want me.” His offer seemed sincere, but they both knew crying off was not an option after what Lady Eldridge had witnessed. It did her no service to entertain possibilities that could never happen. Besides, this was her penance for stealing her parents’ happiness. She knew she’d have to pay it eventually.
“I have given my word to marry you, Lord Thorne. I don’t intend to break it.”
He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, his glove soft against her skin. His touch didn’t send her pulse racing, but it was nice enough. His smile was soft and made him appear more handsome in the flickering light. “I can’t stomach the thought of you being miserable, love.”
“Misery is a state of mind, my lord. I don’t have to choose to live in that state unless I wish it.”
Her father had told her that on more than one occasion when events hadn’t gone as she’d planned. She had always thought Papa wise, and she hoped his sage advice held up through the years facing her.
“Do you think you will ever agree to call me by my name?”
She sighed. “One step at a time.”
“Fair enough.” His grin grew wider before he kissed her cheek; his scent made her think of pine trees. In fact, the man himself was like a tree, wild in some ways and yet steadfast. Definitely unmovable.
If nothing else, she supposed she could picture an amiable partnership in their future. But that seemed like enough steps to take for one day.
Twenty-one
Anthony still couldn’t believe his relationship with Gabby was over. Her brothers had convinced him to call on her at Talliah House after the Sorins’ dinner, but when she’d turned him away, the truth had knocked him over the head.
He’d lost her.
And he may have lost his sanity as well. He hadn’t slept a full night in two weeks, food had become a tasteless lump, and the simple act of crawling out of bed sapped his strength, so he’d stopped bothering.
He hurt like hell. All over.
The only time he’d come close to experiencing this kind of pain was when he had fallen down the stairs at Ellis Hall when he was a lad. He had been trying to help his mother to her bedchamber so the downstairs maids wouldn’t discover her passed out in the drawing room. The soured smell would have lingered in the room, however, so her drinking couldn’t be hidden completely. Still, he’d tried.
Her brandy-soaked breath had made him want to retch, but he’d exerted his will to overcome the urge. As they had reached the top step, his mother jerked, suddenly alert. “I can walk by myself,” she’d screeched and shoved him. Her attack had come quite unexpectedly, and he’d tumbled down the flight of stairs and cracked his head on the solid post.
His tutor had doctored his cut, but Mr. Lynch hadn’t been one for kind words. Then again, neither was Anthony’s mother. The next morning, she’d had no memory of what she had done and considered it her motherly duty to berate him for his clumsiness. He’d never tried to cover up her weaknesses again.
On second thought, losing Gabby was worse than that incident. Maybe this was the reason his mother had wanted to be unconscious all the time.
“Dammit.” He didn’t want to become like her. Scrubbing his hands over his whiskers, he tried to calculate how long it had been since he’d shaved or taken a bath.
He caught a whiff of himself. Too long.
It was time to join the living, even if he would remain dead inside. Hauling himself from bed, he groped for the bellpull in the dark. He wasn’t even certain if it was day or night with the curtains drawn.
When Pierce entered his chambers, Anthony heard the valet’s sharp intake of breath. Not that Anthony blamed the servant for his reaction. He rarely allowed himself to reach this state of dishabille.
“I wish to shave and have a bath.” His voice sounded gravelly.
“Very good, milord.” The slight lilt to the valet’s voice indicated Anthony’s decision pleased him.
Pierce threw open the curtains, flooding the room with light.
“Perhaps a bit of fresh air will improve your mood, milord.” The servant lifted the window sash and drew in a deep breath. “Ah, much better. I will have the footmen set up the tub.”
Pierce had an added spring to his step as he left the room. Gads. The man possessed more bounce and cheer than one person should be forced to endure.
When everything was set into place for his bath, Anthony stripped down and sunk into the hot water with a groan. His valet returned moments later and made quick work of setting Anthony to rights.
Once he resembled a member of the human species again, he sent Pierce away with orders to bring coffee to his study. He should have been at the House of Lords that morning, but it was too late to make an appearance now. Instead, he would tackle the correspondence that had been piling up on his desk, although he’d prefer to toss it in the grate and forget about it.
He was in his study sorting through the stack when a light knock interrupted him.
“Enter.”
He expected to see a footman with a coffee service, but it was his butler bearing a calling card. The feminine lettering caught him off guard.
“The Duchess of Foxhaven wishes to see me?”
“Aye, milord.”
What the devil was Luke’s wife doing calling on him?
The servant lowered his voice and lifted his brows meaningfully. “Her Grace has arrived with two young ladies in tow.”
His heart jolted to life. Gabby? He leaned back in his chair and attempted a casual air. “Please show the ladies to the drawing room and have Mrs. Duffy prepare refreshments.”
“Very good, milord.”
Moments later, Anthony stood outside the drawing room doors, fighting back a smile. He inhaled deeply then barreled into the room. The air rushed from his lungs in a noisy whoosh.
“Good afternoon, Lord Ellis.”
“Lady Elizabeth and Lady Katherine, it is you.” Cringing at the inanity of his observation and the disappointment present in his tone, he schooled his features. “How kind of you to call.”
The Duchess of Foxhaven had her head tipped to the side, studying him. Anthony smiled for her benefit. “To what do I owe this honor, Your Grace?”
“Lord Ellis, please forgive us for barging in on you this afternoon. I realize it is most improper.”
Perhaps, but impropriety didn’t often create an obstacle for the young duchess. The reason Luke had fallen for the lady was no mystery. Her daring was often a topic of conversation at society events, and yet her sweet nature had won her many friends who found her charming.
“My doors are always open, madame.”
He took a seat opposite the ladies sitting on the couch and noted the duchess fiddling with a sealed letter. He nodded toward it. “A missive from the duke?”
She nibbled her bottom lip as if considering whether to give it to him. Appearing to have made up her mind, she held it out to him, but Lady Elizabeth snatched it from the duchess’s fingers.
“Wait! That’s not for you.”
The duchess drew back, appearing as surprised as he was. “B-but Gabby wanted—” She sputtered to a stop, her eyes narrowing. Lady Elizabeth offered a dimpled smile.
“Oh, my molasses,” the duchess said. “Gabby didn’t request we deliver this, did she?”
“Not exactly.”
Lady Katherine lowered her head, a pink stain upon her cheeks. “We’re sorry, Vivian. We didn’t know any other way to gain an audience with Lord Ellis.”
The lady nailed Gabby’s sisters with an imperious glower. It appeared Luke’s mother had taught the new duchess a thing or two about how to put others in their place. “I demand to know what you are about, ladies. What do you have to say for yourselves?”
Lady Elizabeth didn’t appear contrite in the least as she boldly met his gaze and ignored her sister-in-law’s command. “She loves you, Lord Ellis. You do know that, don’t you? She can’t live without you.”
The duchess gasped, but Lady Elizabeth wasn’t deterred. “It’s true, Vivian. Our sister is miserable. How can we look the other way knowing how unhappy she is?”
He looked to the duchess for confirmation. She nodded sharply. “Gabby hasn’t been herself lately.”
Because she still loves me. Lady Elizabeth’s confident assertion sparked his hope. “Did she send you to tell me she loves me?”
“Not in so many words,” Lady Elizabeth hedged. She frowned at the duchess. “Vivian, you cannot say a word to Luke about what I’m about to reveal.”
The duchess held up her hands. “Oh, no. No, no, no.” Each denial was accompanied by a vigorous shake of her head. “Keeping things from your brother is a bad idea.”
Lady Katherine reached toward her. “Vivian, please hear us out.”
“I’m sorry, but I promised your brother there would be no more secrets between us.” She bolted from the couch and gathered her reticule. “We should go. Thank you for your time, Lord Ellis, and we apologize for disturbing you.”
She marched toward the door, but Gabby’s sisters didn’t budge from the couch. The duchess turned back at the threshold and her eyes rounded. “Girls. What are you doing?”
Lady Katherine offered an apologetic half smile. “We understand you can’t keep secrets from Luke. It wasn’t right to ask. But if you could allow us a moment alone with Lord Ellis…”
The duchess’s eyes darted from one girl to the next while they gazed back at her like sad pups.
“Oh, sugar biscuits,” she said with a soft stomp of her slipper. “Very well. I shall walk slowly to the carriage, and I expect you to catch up to me in a moment.”
Gabby’s sisters beamed.
“Thank you, Vivi. We knew you were the perfect one to help us,” Lady Elizabeth said.
A flush spread over the duchess’s face. “You mean I’m the only fool you know.” There was a ring of affection in her words. “Don’t be long, ladies.”
As soon as the door closed, Lady Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Gabby needs you. She doesn’t want to marry Lord Thorne, but she feels she must.”
Anthony shook his head with a weary sigh. “Gabby has made her decision, and there is nothing I can do to change her mind. I tried.”
Lady Katherine held up the letter her sister had taken from the duchess. His name was scrawled across the front. “Do you know what this is, my lord? It is your wedding invitation. Gabby stole it from Mama’s pile, because she couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering while she exchanged vows with Lord Thorne. Just like she suffered when you married Lady Ellis.”
His breath lodged in his throat. Had his marriage ceremony truly hurt her so badly? She had seemed fine. Better than fine, actually. She had smiled brightly, laughed often, and wished him well with a vigorous hug.
“Oh, God,” he mumbled. How had he not seen it? She had been too happy for the occasion. He had wanted to believe he’d made the right decision by discouraging her. He’d grasped on to the belief he had been nothing more than a passing fancy, and she would thank him for acting with honor.
Lady Katherine carried the invitation to him. “If she didn’t care for you, why would she spare your feelings?”
Anthony took the envelope and trapped it in his fist.
“There are only two days left until she marries the baron. You must do something, Lord Ellis. Our sister has suffered too much in her life already. She deserves to be happy.”
He looked up into Lady Katherine’s unwavering gaze. She possessed the wise eyes of a person four times her age.
“She won’t listen to me,” he said.
Lady Elizabeth bounded from her seat. “You must make her listen. And if she won’t, you need to make the correct decision for her.”
His hollow laugh echoed off the ceiling. “What would you have me do? Abduct her?”
Lady Elizabeth’s thin brows lifted suggestively.
“You are joking.”
When he glanced at Lady Katherine, she slowly shook her head. “Some situations call for drastic measures, my lord.”
“This is insane,” he said and pushed from his chair to pour a brandy for himself. “You should both go. The duchess will be waiting for you.”
He kept his back to Gabby’s sisters as the swish of their skirts indicated they were leaving.
“If you come to your senses,” Lady Katherine said, “she is attending the theatre this evening. Lord Thorne sent word this morning that his mother and sister would collect her at eight, and he will meet her there. The session at the House of Lords is expected to run late.”
“It can be difficult to tell carriages apart in the dark,” Lady Elizabeth added.
With that being their final words, Gabby’s sisters quietly slipped from the drawing room and left him to wrestle with his thoughts.
Difficult, my arse. As soon as Gabby spotted the coat of arms on his door, she would know the carriage didn’t belong to Thorne. And Thorne’s servants wore old-fashioned blue livery while Anthony’s dressed sharply in gold. Apparently the baron and Anthony’s grandfather shared the same tired tastes, for he recalled his grandfather’s footmen wearing almost the same livery.
The door swung open and Pierce entered with a silver coffee service. “The footman is bringing the tea as we speak.” His eyebrows drew together as he looked around the room.
“The guests had somewhere else to be.”
“Do you still want coffee, milord?”
He waved his valet into the room and waited for him to close the door. “I have a different task for you.”
“Yes, milord?”
Damnation, was he really considering this? Anthony plowed his fingers through his hair, noticing Pierce’s horrified expression. Anthony didn’t care. Ruffled hair was the least of his concerns.
How had time slipped away? In two days, Gabby would be lost to him forever. Unless he did something drastic. Something that could cost him the best friends he’d ever had or at the extreme, could get him killed.
But life without Gabby made him feel dead already.
One Rogue Too Many Page 16
