“No, I hadn’t realized that you were childhood friends, my lady. How fortunate to be surrounded by other children.”
Gwyneth crossed her legs in the same manner as Aunt Euphemia. “Gabby, you don’t have to ‘lady’ us when we’re alone. We’re of the same age, not some dowdy dowagers.”
“I’ll try, Gwyneth, but all my training in a convent isn’t easy to overcome.”
“It must have been dreadful living in a convent. All the rules.” Gwyneth gestured with her free hand. “I would have probably run away.”
“I had no choice. It was the only safe place.”
Gwyneth uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “I’m sorry. How insensitive of me.”
“You’re not insensitive. You speak honestly and without artifice.” Gabby admired Gwyneth and appreciated how openly caring and affectionate she was. “And there were many days in the convent that I wished I could run away.”
“I’m not very good at following rules. I probably would have been beaten regularly.” Gwyneth laughed.
Gabby joined her enjoyment. “We were never beaten. I can’t imagine any of the sisters using physical punishment, but then again, none of us considered breaking the rules.”
“I am glad that I had Aunt Euphemia to encourage me to look beyond society’s restrictive rules for women. But, as my husband likes to point out, sometimes my behavior is not ladylike.”
“That can’t possibly be true.” Amelia winked at Gabby as if they were co-conspirators. “I regularly wanted to run away from my five brothers. There were days when I wished I were an only child.”
“I would love to have grown up with Amelia’s brothers.” Gwyneth sipped her champagne. “I hardly got to play with my brothers. They both were much older.”
“Five brothers?”
“Yes, it does sometimes boggle the brain,” Amelia admitted.
“I’m envious. Lucien was never home when I was growing up. And then he was forced to fulfill the role of both mother and father for me.” Gabby was surprised by the quiver in her voice. She had been enjoying the conversation until the mention of Lucien caused an unexpected rush of sorrow.
“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Amelia patted Gabby’s hand. “Gwyneth and I want to help you in any way we can.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“And our first step is to start with a new wardrobe.” Amelia stood. “I am to understand that you won’t be wearing mourning.”
Gwyneth turned to Gabby. “Amelia can be trusted.”
“I am to be a friend of the Rathbourne family and not to publicly declare my true identity, although I do believe it won’t be long before I’m recognized.”
Gabby had to trust her new identity to Gwyneth and Aunt Euphemia, and now Amelia. After being chased by Napoleon’s men across France, she had agreed to the plan of keeping her identity a secret. She had witnessed the lengths to which Napoleon would go to secure her fortune.
“For your protection,” Gwyneth added.
“Yes, I understand, but I feel badly not to mourn my brother.”
“But your brother would want you to be kept safe. He hid you away. It won’t be forever, just until we know Napoleon has abandoned his efforts to take you back to France.”
Amelia brought her hand to her chest. “How awful. I’m glad you’re staying with Aunt Euphemia and Ash.”
Gabby wondered how the elderly Aunt Euphemia could be of any assistance.
“I appreciate Gwyneth’s hospitality, but I hope to soon establish my own residence.” Both Aunt Euphemia and Gwyneth had been adamant that she remain with them to allow herself time to recover from her loss and to be assured it was safe to leave Ash’s protection.
Gwyneth put her glass down. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Today, we’re starting with the new wardrobe. Let me show you a few of the newest fabrics that have arrived.”
“She must wear blue, don’t you agree?” Gwyneth asked.
“Of course, and we’ve received a lovely lavender. Not an insipid pastel but the coolness of an amethyst.”
“Amelia likes bold colors and bold designs. When she was going through a Greek phase, she designed a revealing toga for me. My aunt almost had a conniption. She was speechless, and for my Aunt Euphemia, that is no small feat.”
Gabby giggled with the ladies, her spirits buoyed by the easy company and possibly the champagne she had consumed.
The tinkling bell disrupted their amusement.
A reed-slender lady with a narrow face, thin lips, and wide-set, prominent eyes entered on the arm of gentleman in a purple coat with a puce waistcoat. She wore a tightly-fitted, reddish-purple walking dress, almost the same color as her escort’s coat. His darkish-brown hair was slicked back away from his high forehead with pomade. In the outmoded manner of a Frenchman of fashion, he stopped and produced a snuff box.
The lady did a slight curtsy. “Miss Bonnington, just the person I had hoped to meet today. And Lady Gwyneth. Such a pleasure.” The lady drew out the word “pleasure” in a dusky, seductive voice.
Amelia curtsied. “Lady Sauvage and Lord Weston.”
Gwyneth and Gabby remained seated.
“Miss Amelia.” Lord Weston bowed then turned to them. “Lady Gwyneth.” He bowed again. “You are looking in grand spirits. Marriage must agree with you.”
“Thank you, Lord Weston.”
Lord Weston searched Gabby’s face in interest. Gabby lowered her eyes at the officious man’s flagrant perusal.
“I haven’t had the pleasure, my lady,” Lord Weston said.
“Where are my manners? Lady Sauvage and Lord Weston, this is my dear friend, Lady Gigot.”
“Gigot? I don’t recall hearing that name.” Lady Sauvage’s voice dripped with arrogance. “Are you new to society?”
The thin woman’s penetrating scrutiny of Gabby’s borrowed, ill-fitting dress and bonnet should have made Gabby squirm in the chair. But after her years under Mother Therese’s critical scrutiny, this one woman had no effect on her.
“I’ve just arrived from France,” Gabby said.
Knowing the woman wanted her pedigree to decide whether Gabby was worthy of her attention, Gabby tilted her head with insouciance. Because she was an unknown French woman with connections to a very old and powerful English family, she would draw interest and speculation in the very closed society. She wasn’t in the least intimidated by the woman’s curiosity. She was, after all, the daughter of a marquis.
“My Aunt Euphemia and Lady Gigot’s grandmother were close friends. We are bringing our dear family friend into London society,” Gwyneth said.
The stylish gentleman bowed grandiosely. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Gigot. I’ve not seen you at any events. I would remember such a fair flower amongst the ladies.”
She wanted to laugh at his exaggerated flatteries. She neither liked nor trusted outrageous adulation. It seemed she preferred straightforward and teasing gentlemen. “I’ve not been out in society yet.”
“Will you be attending the opera to hear Madame Abney sing this week?” He eyed her with hungry curiosity.
Gabby looked to Lady Gwyneth for guidance. “It will depend on my hostess’s plans.”
“I hope, Lady Gwyneth, you can be convinced to allow your guest time away from your company to attend Coventry Garden. Madame Abney is known throughout Europe for her incredible vocal range and dramatic presentation,” he said.
“I’ve heard about the woman’s skill. She was all the conversation,” Gabby said.
“In Paris?” Lady Sauvage inquired innocently.
“Yes, my lady.” Paris was a big city, and it was less easy to connect Gabby to her title and estate than pretending she was from the country.
“I’m not sure if we’ll be attending.” Gwyneth interrupted any further questions. “But once Miss Bonnington has assisted Lady Gigot in her wardrobe, she’ll be in society.”
“Then I hope Miss Bonnington will be speedy in her assistance,” Lord Weston dro
ned as he tilted to one side in an affected manner.
Lady Sauvage’s thin lips flattened into a hyphen of displeasure. “But Miss Bonnington, you told me you had no time to consult on my wardrobe.”
“Oh, please do not scold Miss Bonnington. I should be the one to receive your reprimand,” Gwyneth tittered. “I’ve imposed on Miss Bonnington’s good nature to help our dear family friend.”
Gabby suppressed her urge to turn and stare at this incarnation of the icy Lady Gwyneth. Having only seen Gwyneth interact with family and friends, Gabby realized her new friend was polished and very adept at handling prying members of “polite society.”
Amelia interrupted. “I’ve already explained to Lady Sauvage that I’ve very little time for fashion because of my upcoming wedding.”
“Good wishes are in order, Miss Bonnington. Lord Brinsley is a very fortunate man.” Lord Weston bowed again.
Gabby found his bobbing up and down quite distracting.
Miss Amelia smiled and curtsied. “Thank you, Lord Weston.”
“Miss Bonnington, Lord Kendal was at Lady Roscoe’s soiree last night—quite unfortunate that you and the gentleman couldn’t come to an agreement. Such a charming man.”
Lady Sauvage looked directly at Gabby. “He is also recently arrived from France. Did you by chance meet the very dashing gentleman when you were in Paris, Mademoiselle Gigot?”
Amelia’s face turned a blotchy crimson.
“I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman yet. But since he is a relative by marriage to Lady Gwyneth, I’m sure I’ll have the privilege soon.”
Gabby felt Gwyneth stiffen next to her before Gwyneth brought her glass to her lips. After sipping her champagne, she said in an unrushed and languid tone, “Of course, we are all well pleased by his safe return. I will have to inform my brother of your kindness in mentioning Lord Kendal.”
The conversation swirled around Gabby like a fast eddy and wasn’t much different than in French drawing rooms, but she never before had to maintain a false identity. Did Lady Sauvage suspect that Gabby was hiding something, or was it the usual social banter in hopes of finding a scandal? And there was no doubt in Gabby’s mind that Lady Sauvage would create a scandal if she discovered Gabby’s travelling companion.
“Come, Cedric.” The lady took the gentleman’s arm. “We must not be late for Lady Billingsworth’s at home.”
Lord Weston bowed again with a great flourish. “I will look forward to seeing you at the opera, my lady.” He took out his handkerchief and patted his sweating forehead, probably from the exertion of endless bowing. “A gentleman lives to hope.”
Did Gwyneth just snort? Gabby kept her face placid, but she did want to giggle. Perhaps the champagne was having its effect.
Amelia’s face still showed patches of color on her high cheekbones. After the guests had departed, Amelia reached for her champagne flute. “Of all the nerve for that woman to imply that I was a jilted woman.”
Gwyneth snickered. “You really must not care what that vindictive woman believes. She did it for spite because you’re not helping with her gowns.”
“You’re absolutely right, but I don’t want her to spread rumors that Derrick wasn’t my first choice to marry.”
Now Gwyneth laughed heartily, with her mouth wide open in loud guffaws. “Derrick knows that you absolutely adore him.”
“I’m sure you think I’m silly, Gabby. I was never in love with Michael. I confused our friendship with love until I met Derrick. But everyone believed we would make a match. There were unkind rumors of why we didn’t become engaged. But you must know, Michael never was interested in me that way. We were friends and still are.”
Gabby now felt her cheeks getting warm, and, fair-skinned like Amelia, her face became blotchy with embarrassment. “Lord Kendal and I are no more than acquaintances. I owe him a great deal for his assistance in my escape. But do you believe the lady knows about our trip together?”
Gwyneth reached for the champagne bottle to refill their glasses. “I did find Lady Sauvage’s comments most interesting. I’m beginning to wonder if she purposefully came to meet Gabby.”
“You’re right.” Amelia put her glass out for Gwyneth to refill. “I had already told her I didn’t have time to consult. Why did she appear in the shop today? She didn’t have an appointment with Elodie. And no one knew I was meeting you here. And her dress, although very beautiful, wasn’t done by Elodie but by Madame Gaillard.”
“All very suspicious. Now, I do believe we must make a point of going to the opera, don’t you?” Gwyneth mused.
Gabby was surprised by Gwyneth’s reaction. She assumed that Gwyneth would want to confer with her husband.
“I agree. It might be helpful to talk further with the inquisitive lady.” Amelia nodded.
“It means we’ve got to pick fabric. Amelia, get to work.”
“Yes, my lady.” Amelia batted her eyelashes. “Why do I feel we’re about to embark on an adventure?”
With French champagne and fine fashion, it seemed all in great fun, but Gabby knew how brutal and dangerous Napoleon’s men could be. Intrusive English ladies didn’t frighten her in the least. But the idea of returning as a prisoner to France constricted her throat in panic.
Chapter Thirteen
Gabby’s fingers rushed over the keys, pouring her fear and worries into the melancholic melody. Afraid she might splinter and never regain her composure, she spent hours playing the piano, allowing herself a way to express her feelings.
She took a slow breath, trying to come back to herself after the intense outpouring of raw emotions.
Morley, a hefty man with a square chin and crooked nose, knocked then entered the music room. The Ashworth butler was unlike Gaston, their butler at home, who was the epitome of grace and refinement associated with servants in the estate of a French marquis. England was turning out to be a refreshing change from French snobbishness and pomposity.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Lord Kendal said he was expected.”
Gabby’s stomach fluttered at the announcement of Michael’s surprise visit. His beloved, animated face would be a welcome change from her lonely isolation. Did he have more news of her brother? There was no reason for his visit, since he had provided the news of her brother’s duel and the solicitor’s information that she had requested.
“Thank you, Morley. I was expecting Lord Kendal,” Gabby lied as she stood and walked to the settee. Being seated would help her not rush into his arms. She straightened her dress around her ankles, keeping her hands busy and feeling like a debutante about to receive her first suitor.
“Shall I bring tea, my lady? And shall I summon Lady Gwyneth?” Morley, likely an ex-soldier, was well trained in his role as butler.
“Tea would be lovely, but don’t bother interrupting Lady Gwyneth. Lord Kendal won’t be staying long.”
Morley bowed. “Yes, my lady.”
Pouring tea and observing the social ritual would help her cope if he brought bad news.
Gabby secured the pins holding the top knot of her curls and tugged on Lady Gwyneth’s day dress that pulled too tightly across her chest. Although Gwyneth was taller, Gabby was endowed with the full bosom of her Grandmamma Bonnet. Gabby had the wrong shape for the slim lines that Josephine de Beauharnais had brought into style.
“Mademoiselle Gabrielle.” Michael bowed.
He was dressed in a blue fitted coat and buff pantaloons that emphasized his strong, lean legs. The perfect gentleman’s attire for an earl. Although dressed appropriately, he looked as if had been pulling on his collar, and his hair was windswept, not fixed with pomade like other gentlemen. The close-fitted tailoring of his clothes looked too constraining for his exuberant energy.
“Lord Kendal, a pleasure.” It was a pleasure to bask in his warm, beaming smile. “Please, will you join me?” Gabby pointed to a chair across from the settee. “Thank you, Morley.”
The butler nodded and closed the door.
She tried not to respond, but the heat of his strong, calloused palms seeped into her and his fresh, out-of-doors scent soothed her jagged, lonely feelings.
There could be no secret visits between them after today, now that she was going into society. For one brief moment, she would enjoy the safety of his touch. She squeezed his hands back before she released them. “Lord Kendal. I hope you are well.”
His words came out dashed and impatient. “How can I be well when all I can think about is you and what you must be enduring?”
Gabby couldn’t breathe. She wanted to lean into him and pour her heart out. She wanted to be held and comforted by him. She wanted to go back to their time in France and enjoy the moments of simple pleasure when her future was hopeful and anything was possible between them. She stared at him, wanting him to feel the love and affection she felt.
“I want to help you. Protect you from any distress from your incredible loss.”
Of course he wanted to help. He was a good man, but she wasn’t his responsibility. It was only a slight chance of fate that brought them together. She couldn’t allow herself these feelings. It was too dangerous. And although she would never admit it—too dangerous for her fragile heart.
“You have more news of my brother?”
“Oh, Gabby, please don’t shut me out, not when we’re alone like this.”
She regretted pulling away; he was a dear friend and much more to her. But anyone close to her could be in danger. Napoleon and his men didn’t care who they hurt. She didn’t want Michael or his family harmed. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to the people he loved.
“But that’s the point, we aren’t supposed to be alone like this.”
She watched his hopeful look fade.
“Please, only this brief moment. After this visit, we must separate and keep the charade up in society. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety.”
A Cantata of Love (The Code Breakers 4) Page 8
