Tempted

by Jess Michaels

  Howe grabbed him now and held him as steady as Juliet was being held.

  “You see, boy, we have the power. I can take what I want. Aston can take what he wants. You and your family may have titles and money, but you have nothing compared to what we have. You see that now, don’t you? I can take what you have without even breaking a sweat. I can keep it, I can own it, I can destroy it at will, just as Aston can. Now, do you want it back? Do you want her back? Or are you willing to trade her to continue searching for a sister who is very happy where she is?”

  “That isn’t true!” Juliet burst out, straining against the hold of other man. “He told me your sister hates Aston. That she—”

  Before she could finish, the great brute who held her swung and connected with the back of her skull. Her eyes went wide and then fluttered shut as she went limp in the arms of the man who had attacked her. Gabriel let out a primal cry he hardly recognized as his own and broke free of Howe’s hold with a strength he hadn’t even known he had. Howe grabbed for him and they began to grapple, moving ever closer to the edge of the dock.

  Gabriel swung a fist, connecting with Howe’s cheek with all his might, and the bastard staggered. “I am going to make you pay,” he growled. “And then my brothers and I are going to get every bit of information out of you that you have.”

  “You aren’t alone!” Howe shouted, and threw his own fist. It connected and threw Gabriel off balance. As he righted himself, Howe spun away from him toward the man who held Juliet. He grabbed her limp body and smiled at Gabriel. “This should keep you busy.”

  With a laugh, he tossed Juliet over the edge of the dock and into freezing cold river. Unconscious and bound, she bobbed for a brief moment and then, to Gabriel’s horror, began to slowly sink beneath the water’s edge.

  In what seemed like an eternity, he stared at Howe. He and his partners had begun to run into the fog. Then he looked at Juliet, going under the water to her death. And there was no contest, no question. He dove into the water as she dipped beneath the surface and grabbed for her, praying he wouldn’t lose her in the murky, deadly dark.

  The icy water made her slick, but he caught her arm and kicked toward the surface. His lungs burned with the shocking cold as he gasped back into the night, lifting her unconscious weight up and out of the water.

  He pushed her toward the dock above, and suddenly she was being lifted from his grasp, up onto the surface above. Hands grabbed him and he was pulled free. With the cold slowing his mind, he looked up into the eyes of Edward and glanced down to watch Evan laying Juliet out onto the wooden dock.

  “Is she breathing?” he croaked, pushing away from Edward and crouching next to Juliet. He saw the answer. She wasn’t.

  He bent toward her, his mind racing with every bit of knowledge he had ever collected. The Paris Academy of Science leapt to his mind. A piece on bringing drowning victims back to life by sharing air.

  He leaned in, pinched her nose and covered her mouth with his, just as he had so many times before. But today it was not for her pleasure—it was for her life. He breathed into her mouth gently, repeated the process, again and again.

  Behind him, he heard Edward breathe out a shuddering sigh. “Oh no…”

  He ignored it and continued to fill her lungs with his breath. His eyes stung with tears and the cold, his body had begun to convulse with shivers, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was saving this woman.

  “Please,” he whispered before he pressed another breath into her body.

  She convulsed and coughed, sending frigid river water from her mouth. He turned her on her side as she spit the water away and took a long, ragged breath on her own. Her eyes opened and she stared up at him.

  “Gabriel?” she whispered, her voice rough.

  He nodded as he smoothed water away from her cheeks. “Yes. I’m here, Juliet. It’s all right.”

  She blinked at him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Then she shut her eyes and slipped back into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Juliet opened her eyes to the sounds of voices. For a moment, nothing was clear. Her head hurt and the room around her wasn’t totally familiar. Was she home in Idleridge? No. This was London. This was the room Lady Woodley had given her.

  She sat upright and the pain in her skull intensified, so she lowered herself back to the pillows and tried to think. She had been taken by Howe and his men. Gabriel had come. Everything had gone dark and then so, so cold.

  And now she was here. And the voices outside her door were louder. She peeked toward it and found the door had been left open a crack. She could see the form of Lady Woodley outside, her back to the entrance. She was talking to someone Juliet couldn’t see. But she knew who it was.

  She would know that voice anywhere. For the rest of her life. Gabriel.

  “Mama,” his voice said, filled with exasperation.

  “Don’t you ‘Mama’ me,” Lady Woodley said in return, her voice angrier than Juliet had ever heard it. “What in God’s name were you thinking?”

  Gabriel let out a long sigh. “I was thinking of Claire. As I am always thinking of Claire.”

  There was a pause and Lady Woodley’s shoulders dipped a bit. Even from the bed, Juliet could see the pain in her hostess’s posture. “I realize you want to save your sister, but to put Juliet in danger as you did?”

  “I know!” His voice sounded just as angry as Lady Woodley’s now, and Juliet could almost picture him sliding his hand through his hair and leaving it a tousled mess, as he often did when he was frustrated.

  Lady Woodley sighed again. “Gabriel, this obsession with Claire cannot be healthy for you.”

  He was silent for what seemed like forever. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said. “Howe got away. Jude chased him, but in the fog, he had no chance. And with him went any secrets we might have extracted from him about Claire’s whereabouts.”

  “Oh.” Lady Woodley’s voice was suddenly very small, and Juliet flinched at the pain that pulsed in it.

  “We both know whose fault that is,” Gabriel said. “I must go.”

  “Wait! Juliet will be awake soon—” Lady Woodley called out, as if he was leaving.

  His voice was further away as he said, “I can’t look at her now. I’m going. I’ll return later.”

  Juliet rolled to her side. She bit her lip to keep a moan of pain from escaping her lips. Gabriel blamed her for what had happened on the dock. Gabriel believed he had lost his best and perhaps last chance to find Claire, and it was all her fault.

  The door behind her opened fully and she turned to face Lady Woodley as she entered the room. When her hostess saw her eyes open, she drew back in surprise.

  “Oh!” Lady Woodley glanced behind her at the door and then forced a smile. “You are awake.”

  Juliet nodded. “Yes. Only just.” She hoped her tone didn’t reveal that she had overheard the hallway exchange. She didn’t want to face pity or worse, to see that Lady Woodley blamed her for what had happened, too.

  “I’ll call for the doctor and your father in a moment, but I must know, how do you feel?” Lady Woodley asked and walked to a chair that had been placed beside the bed.

  Juliet shrugged. Lady Woodley meant her physical well-being, of course. “My head hurts. And I am cold even though the room is warm. I wish I could remember what happened.”

  Actually, she did not wish that. There was a horrible sense of fear and dread, one that was only multiplied by Gabriel’s apparent disdain for her.

  “The doctor said you might not fully recall what happened to you,” Lady Woodley said. “It is normal, you needn’t worry.”

  “What did happen?”

  “You were hit in the head,” Lady Woodley said, her frown deep and concerned. “And then thrown into the river Thames. Gabriel jumped after you.”

  Juliet squeezed her eyes shut. He had been forced to choose saving her over detaining
the man who might be able to finally help them find Claire. No wonder he despised her now.

  “Was he harmed?” she asked, wondering if her tone sounded even. She certainly was not calm inside.

  “No,” Lady Woodley reassured her. “He was cold, of course, but once he changed and warmed up by the fire and had some very hot tea he felt better. He was not physically wounded.”

  Juliet nodded and then snagged her hostess’s glance. She couldn’t read Lady Woodley’s thoughts or feelings. And that frightened her.

  “I-I suppose you must be very sorry you brought me here now,” she said. “With all the trouble I’ve caused you and your family.”

  Lady Woodley drew back. “No. No, of course not, Juliet. You must know why I did bring you here in the first place.”

  Juliet rested her head back on the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. “You wanted to thank me for my assistance when you were ill. And perhaps you wanted my father to join me, since you once shared a…a friendship.”

  When she looked at Lady Woodley again, the dowager was blushing fiercely. “Yes, I suppose both those things you say are true. But more than that, I-I brought you here for Gabriel.”

  Juliet blinked. Perhaps she had been hit in the head harder than anyone thought, for it seemed she was hearing things. “I’m sorry, did you just tell me you brought me here for Gabriel?”

  Lady Woodley smiled faintly at her question. “I did. I saw the spark between you back in Idleridge while I was ill. I’ve never seen him look at anyone else the way he did…he does…at you. I hoped if you came here, separated from all your duties at home, put together into circumstances where you would only be allowed to think of your future, you two might find each other.”

  Lady Woodley’s voice sounded very far away over the rush of blood in Juliet’s ears. She pinched herself lightly but didn’t wake up. This was real, apparently. And it shocked her to her very core.

  “My lady,” she began, trying to sort through the dozens of reasons Lady Woodley was incorrect. “I-I’m not from a titled or moneyed family. I am not of your world. How could you possibly want me as a match for your son, who I am certain is seen as a catch by all of the most important mamas in Society?”

  Lady Woodley waved off the question as if it was entirely unimportant. “Gabriel doesn’t want any of the daughters of those mamas. Trust me, I have done my best to match him to one of them over the years. The results were—” She broke off with a peal of laughter. “Well, sometimes they were very entertaining. He never even seemed to notice any of the young ladies placed in his path. He tripped over them occasionally, or stepped around them. You are the first who has ever made him stop and stare, dumbfounded. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t encourage him to pursue that uncommon feeling?”

  “I-I don’t know,” Juliet breathed.

  “Titles, money, birth…they mean very little to our family, my dear. After all, I have seen the damage a marriage to a ‘good’ family but a bad person can do to one of my children.”

  Juliet shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Edward.” Lady Woodley pursed her lips.

  “But Mary is wonderful,” Juliet breathed. “I thought you liked her.”

  “I do,” Lady Woodley said swiftly. “Mary was not his first wife. That was a lady, as you might call her, named Alice. The perfect pedigree only led to great unhappiness for my son. She was a harridan who nearly killed him when she killed herself.”

  Juliet lifted her hand to her lips. “My God. I had no idea.”

  “After she died, I promised myself I would never encourage my children to pursue anyone they did not love. I would rather lose position than lose a child like I nearly did Edward, like I did Claire.”

  Juliet frowned at the mention of Claire. She was still a sticking point between herself and Gabriel. Even if Lady Woodley didn’t want to admit or acknowledge that.

  “Gabriel is desperate without his twin,” Juliet said. “And…and because of me he didn’t find her yet again.”

  Lady Woodley let out a great sigh. “I have watched my son trail after the footsteps his sister has left behind for over two years. I let it be because I didn’t want to discourage him. Because I feared losing him if I told him to stop.” She shook her head. “And I suppose part of him prayed he would succeed in finding my daughter. But I know he needs to find his way without Claire. I think he needs to find his way with you.”

  Juliet opened and shut her mouth, uncertain what to say to such a shocking declaration when her head was spinning and not just from her injury anymore.

  Lady Woodley squeezed her hand. “Your father has been worried sick. I’ll go down and fetch him and the doctor. Think about what I said, my dear.”

  She gave Juliet a last smile, then slipped from the room. Juliet leaned back on her pillow again. Lady Woodley had given her a great deal to think about, for Juliet had never guessed at the dowager’s matchmaking goals.

  But the idea that a match was what her friend wanted didn’t actually make anything better. She had heard Gabriel in the hallway. She knew that he blamed her for his most recent loss.

  She also knew that he was gone. Likely forever.

  And that tore her in two.

  The park across from his mother’s home looked out over the Thames. Since ten o’clock that morning, Gabriel had been standing at the edge of the icy river, looking out over the water as the heavy currents dragged it away.

  He was far from where Juliet had fallen and yet he could see her outlined in the waves. Her pale face bobbing under the current. He’d dreamed of the same all night long. Even though he had gotten word the previous day that she had woken and was doing fine, he’d still dreamed that he couldn’t reach her. That she dropped to the bottom of the river like a beautiful diamond, never to be seen again.

  He shook his head at the images.

  “I almost lost her,” he murmured.

  “Indeed, you did,” came a voice behind him. He turned and jolted in surprise to find Juliet’s father standing there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his greatcoat and a frown on his normally friendly face. “And you might again if you walk away from her.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Gray,” Gabriel said, tipping his hat.

  Mr. Gray did not do the same. “It is afternoon now, my lord. Just noon.

  Gabriel blinked. “Is that right?”

  Mr. Gray nodded as he looked past Gabriel to the river. “You’ve been out here two hours now, boy.”

  Gabriel wrinkled his brow. “How do you know that?”

  “I saw you arrive from my chamber window. I assumed you were coming to your mama’s to call. To check on Juliet, perhaps. But then you crossed the street and have been standing here ever since.”

  “And you had to come join me,” Gabriel said.

  “For Juliet, yes. Were you coming to call, Gabriel?”

  He frowned as he clenched his gloved hands together behind his back. “I-I don’t know.”

  “Honesty.” Mr. Gray’s gaze snagged his. “I like that in a man. I will return the favor. My daughter has been hurt before. I don’t think this is news to you, for she’s likely confessed as much to you. Too honest not to tell all.”

  “She has,” Gabriel admitted, thinking back to that first time she’d told him her secret.

  “Seeing the pain that man caused her all those years ago ranks amongst one of the worst moments of my life,” Mr. Gray mused. “I could do nothing to stop it or ease it. I could be kind, of course, do nice things for her. But Juliet had to get through her disappointment on her own. I would look at her across the breakfast table and see this hint of grief and my heart broke for her.”

  Gabriel nodded, though he wasn’t exactly certain why Mr. Gray was saying this. Was he implying Juliet had cared for that other man more? Trying to separate Gabriel from Juliet because he had endangered her? Gabriel deserved that, and it cut him to the bone.

  “This morning I look
ed across the breakfast table and I saw a grief far more powerful than before,” Mr. Gray continued. “But this time it was caused by you.”

  Gabriel froze. He had caused pain to others before in his life. Never on purpose, of course, but when it was hard to read emotion in others, it was also hard to properly act so that he didn’t evoke it. He had never cared about hurting someone as much as he did now.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “It was never my intention to bring your daughter pain.”

  Mr. Gray nodded slowly, his expression contemplative. “You and I are not so dissimilar, my lord. We are men of science. Thinkers.” The older man leaned in, searching Gabriel’s face. “I can see you running figures in your head. Equations about Juliet. But…”

  Gabriel caught his breath. He had been doing just that. It was very near impossible not to. His mind went to those kinds of places first. Rational places. Places where he worked to control variables. Only Juliet was so uncontrollable. His feelings were so uncontrollable.

  “But?” he whispered.

  “In the end, you must simply know the answer. Not work it out by formula or deduction. You must know what you want, what you can’t bear to lose. You must know what is best for you and for my daughter.” Mr. Gray’s voice was thick with intensity now, as was the stare that held Gabriel in place. “Do you know that?”

  Gabriel was quiet as he repeated that question over and over in his head until it was all that existed.

  Mr. Gray shook his head at Gabriel’s silence. “You’re still deciding. Well, I must tell you that you now have a deadline. Juliet told me this morning that she wishes to go home to Idleridge. Tomorrow.”

  Gabriel took a long step toward Mr. Gray. “What? But—but you were meant to stay through the holiday. Far past the holiday!”

  Mr. Gray shrugged. “I know. Your mother protested as loudly as you are, but Juliet is certain. And I cannot do anything else but give her what she thinks she needs in this moment.”

  “I know what I want,” Gabriel said, and it was true.

  Almost losing Juliet in the icy waters of the Thames had been bad enough. But it had been no one’s fault except the bastard who had thrown her there. But losing her because she believed she couldn’t stay here, because she didn’t know he loved her…that could not stand.