Arabella wasn’t quite certain what to make of his words. Maybe he’d partaken of more of the whisky than she was aware. Or, maybe Donovan struck Lord Gideon harder than she realized. Was he suffering from a head injury of sorts?
“Let me explain.” With that, he led her to a bench that sat beneath a shade tree. They were very much alone in the gardens now, which she preferred, and almost hidden because of shadows cast by the setting sun.
“I’ve been at a loss. Searching you might say.”
“For Rose, or something else?”
“Lady Bentley…Mrs. MacGregor is who brought me here, but I think I found something more.”
“I doona understand.”
“Have you ever felt as if something was missing, but you weren’t certain what it was?”
“Aye.” She’d felt that way earlier, but for her, she knew what she wanted—someone for herself. Oh, she loved her family, but there was nobody just for her, like Uncle Aiden had Rose and now Davina had Ian. Arabella feared she’d never have that.
“That is the crossroads that I’ve been at for too long and not certain which direction to choose as I don’t know where either leads. It’s almost as if I’ve been stuck in a state of limbo, uncertain what is missing or where to find it.”
“Ye’re a lord, how can ye not already have everythin’ ye need?” He was handsome, danced divinely and kissed even better. How was it possible that anything was missing from Lord Gideon’s life when he could probably have everything he wanted?
“It’s my brother who has everything. I am but a third son.”
Gideon stared down at Miss Arabella, shocked at his confession. He’d not voiced any of the thoughts that had plagued him for these past weeks and months to anyone. Not even his family. Yet, he’d just met Miss Arabella and Gideon confided one of his deepest concerns. There was just something about her that he couldn’t even begin to name but touched his heart, maybe it was his soul, but whatever it was, it lay deep inside of him and he knew instinctively that he was experiencing trust. Maybe it was because she hadn’t tried to trap him into marriage, which she could have attempted. Instead, she’d come to his defense and did everything in her power to help him leave.
Perhaps it’s because Miss Arabella wasn’t like any other miss he’d ever met, at least in recent memory. Or maybe London had caused him to be more jaded than before, and this was the first time he hadn’t witnessed calculation behind a set of pretty eyes as misses decided on his worth by title and where he fell in line for inheriting. As there were two males, a brother and a nephew standing between Gideon and his oldest brother, Tristan, Marquess Hopkins, Gideon fell rather short when there were bachelor dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts and even barons needing to be wed to provide an heir and a spare.
Of course, those misses knew nothing of his monetary worth, which Gideon kept as a well-guarded secret, along with his other identity because he feared that would move him further up the list of potential husbands. He much preferred falling between lesser lords and misters.
He’d heard his other name bandied about at any number of events with much speculation as to who G. T. Oliver was, but most considered the author to be a common man, perhaps a landed gentleman with an education, but nobody suspected that he was actually someone who walked amongst the ton, which suited Gideon perfectly. Not even his family knew that he was G. T. Oliver, and he wasn’t about to tell Miss Arabella either, no matter how much trust he felt at the moment. In fact, there was only one other person who knew Gideon and G. T. Oliver was the same person and that was the family butler. Besides, it was unlikely that Miss Arabella had ever heard of the author.
It was another secret he’d kept from his family.
But, it was because of G. T. Oliver that Gideon was at his latest crossroads.
“What are ye thinkin’ about?” Miss Arabella asked, staring up at him.
Perhaps Gideon had been quiet too long, lost in his thoughts, but it was also rude to do so when he had asked her to walk with him.
“I’m not certain what I’m going to do with my life.” There, he finally admitted aloud what had plagued him for weeks but he had kept deep inside.
“Do?”
Did she not realize that the third son did not have the privileges that the eldest inherited? Not that Tristan would deny him anything. Gideon still lived in his family home, which was something else he must rectify. At his age, he should be out on his own at the very least.
“A younger son is usually required to have a profession,” he explained.
“Aye, I ken. Is there nothin’ ye wish to do?”
Oh, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, it just wasn’t feasible any longer. Of course, in telling her that, he’d need to tell her about G. T. Oliver, which he wasn’t willing to do.
“My father was with the Home Office,” he said instead.
Her eyes widened. “He was a spy?” she whispered.
“Somewhat.” Gideon laughed. His father had been far more involved than most, but that wasn’t discussed. “I thought to follow in his footsteps and was even in the profession for a short time.”
“Spyin’ sounds verra thrillin’.” Her eyes lit with excitement. “Why did ye leave?”
“I didn’t like lying, even for my country, and I didn’t like pretending to be someone or something I was not. And, it was far from thrilling.” Though, keeping G.T. Oliver a secret was an entirely different matter. He never lied about who he was, he just kept the knowledge that Gideon and Oliver were one in the same to himself.
At his explanation, Miss Arabella frowned.
Gideon wasn’t surprised. Everyone thought spies led exciting, yet dangerous lives, which was far from the truth. The only part he enjoyed was the solitude that came with clandestine missions—when all that was required of him was to be as invisible as possible and observe. It was during these missions that he began to invent stories of all the people he watched, whether they were the ones he’d later report on or not. Eventually he began writing the stories down when he returned to his set of rooms.
“Should ye even be tellin’ me?” her voice was even quieter than before, which made Gideon laugh.
“I can assure you that I know of no secrets of any worth, nor do I have any contact with anyone who is in service to the crown.” At least he hadn’t until he became reacquainted with John and his wife. Of course, they were probably retired by now, which was why he felt confident that he wasn’t telling a falsehood. However, in this instance, he would lie to protect John and Elizabeth. He just couldn’t lie about himself.
“So, ye left the Home Office because ye dinna like deception,” she said after a moment as if she approved. “Is that when ye became a Revenue Officer?” This question was asked with more concern or perhaps wariness.
If his suspicions were correct, her family smuggled whisky. Of course she’d worry that he’d find out and tell the authorities.
“Yes. Along the coast of Cornwall, but I wasn’t very good in that position either.”
“Truly?” She seemed genuinely surprised by his admission.
“I found my convictions were not strong enough to arrest a man when I knew he had a wife and children at home and that smuggling was his only means to support them. There are a few towns, places I will not name, where smuggling is their only source of income. What is going to happen to them when we finally remove Napoleon for good?”
Though, in retrospect, the act of bringing contraband into England hadn’t fallen off with Napoleon being imprisoned on Elba. At least not in his little corner of the world.
“Do ye think they will finally bring an end to Napoleon?” Miss Arabella asked, not even shocked by his confessions about being a failure at being a Revenue Officer. Just as he was a failure at being a spy.
Maybe he wasn’t so much a failure as his heart wasn’t with the professions.
“If even half the rumors I’ve heard are true, the next battle is only a month or two way.”
Miss Arabel
la shivered.
“Are you cold?” As much as he wished to remain out here in the silence of the night, Gideon did not want her to catch a chill and possibly become ill.
“It gets cooler in the evenin’ when the sun goes down, and I dinna think to bring a shawl.”
“We can return inside.”
“Nay,” she answered quickly. “I’d rather remain if ye doona mind.”
He didn’t mind at all, but removed his coat and put it around her shoulders and drew her close with an arm around her back. “Do you have anyone on the Continent? A soldier in your family?”
She snuggled against him and even though it was highly improper, Gideon couldn’t find it in himself to object. Not when she fit so perfectly beside him.
“Nay, but a friend is there.” Her voice sounded far away and sad as if she were thinking of him.
Gideon’s chest tightened. Did Miss Arabella care for this soldier? Was he the reason she’d argued with her uncle to let Gideon leave?
If so, why was she tucked against him?
“Is he special to you?” Gideon wished to take back the words the moment he spoke them because he didn’t want to hear that another man held Arabella’s heart. However, he also needed to know the truth because there was no point in remaining at Anagburn if her heart already loved another.
“She,” Miss Arabella corrected.
He blinked down at her. Certainly he’d heard incorrectly. “Pardon me?”
“The person I miss is a she. My friend, Mary.”
It still didn’t make since. Women did not become soldiers.
“Mary Grant,” Miss Arabella added. “…er…Soars. Lachlan, I mean Brachton, had taken his sister to London for a Season. There she met Captain Soars. The two married and she’s been following the drum ever since.”
Relief shot through Gideon upon the realization that Miss Arabella wasn’t pining away for a foot soldier or officer.
“I’m certain she will be safe,” Gideon assured her even though it was impossible to know the safety of her friend. It seemed like the right thing to say.
“I hope so.” Miss Arabella sighed and relaxed against him once more.
Though highly improper, Gideon didn’t want to be anywhere else but in the darkening gardens with Arabella tucked next to him as the stars began twinkling in the fading light. If he could, he’d stop time and just enjoy these moments before propriety forced them to return to reality.
“I considered buying a commission,” he admitted. In fact, he’d been determined to do so once he resigned as a Revenue Officer, but then Napoleon was sent to Elba and there had been no need for more soldiers. Of course, nobody could have anticipated that he’d escape.
“I’m glad ye dinna.”
“Why not?” Soldiers were gallant. He’d seen many misses fawn over the red regimentals.
“Ye’re too kind. Ye have a gentle soul. I’d not see it destroyed with killin’.”
Is that how she saw him—as a milksop?
Worse…was that what he was?
True, Gideon would not have liked killing and he would not have enjoyed war, but who did? That didn’t mean he wasn’t man enough to take on the challenge and defeat the enemy.
Or did it? He’d failed at being a spy and his emotions got in the way of arresting smugglers.
Was he truly so weak? A shell of a real man?
Did she see him as a coward?
Would she present him with a white feather next?
“I’m not a coward.” Gideon found himself saying in defense.
Miss Arabella pulled away from him, her eyes filled with surprise. “Goodness, who would even suggest such a thin’?”
“I thought perhaps…” Gideon admitted.
Her mouth popped open. “Oh dear, I never meant to insult ye, truly, I dinna. And I certainly doona think ye to be cowardly.”
She pulled further away, wringing her hands, and Gideon immediately felt the loss of her presence next to him and wanted to haul her back against his chest.
“Ye came here to rescue Rose and ye kent nothin’ about what ye were up against. That is courageous.”
“You don’t have to try and make me feel better.”
Her shoulders dropped as if she relaxed then Miss Arabella brought her delicate hand up to cradle his cheek. “A good heart and gentle soul are far more worthy than a man with a taste for war.”
Her words sank into him, saturated his heart, and yes, his soul. What he feared to be lacking in himself, what he hid from others, were actual virtues in her eyes.
He wasn’t a fighter. He’d never been, other than boxing which he viewed more as vigorous exercise. But when it came down to the crux of the matter, he couldn’t even arrest a man for breaking the law because he didn’t want to see a family grieve, or the man suffer as he worried about his family.
Gideon placed his hand over hers and wished again that they could remain here, just the two of them.
Her eyes met his. The air around them charged as if there was a coming storm and he slipped his hand around her waist to draw her closer. Arabella leaned in, her face tilted and just enough of the moonlight through the break in the leaves shown off of her auburn hair, lips parted, and eyelids slowly closing as Gideon lowered his mouth toward hers.
“Arabella, are you out here?”
At the booming voice, Gideon and Miss Arabella jumped away from each other. She slipped the coat from her shoulders and quickly passed it to Gideon who shrugged it on just as a shadow darkened the path.
“I hope ye werena kissin’ again. Ye barely escaped from being leg-shackled last time.” Niel laughed as he walked toward them.
“Oh, leave us alone.” Miss Arabella stood. “We were merely havin’ a discussion.”
“Out here, alone, in the darkness, after our guests have left?” His eyes bore into Miss Arabella’s.
They had stepped over a line of propriety but Gideon could not find it in himself to be sorry. The only thing he regretted was that her brother had found them before Gideon had a chance to kiss Arabella once again.
Chapter 8
Arabella blinked at the ceiling above her bed and tried to decide if she’d rise for the day, or simply stay abed for the next fortnight.
Emotions rioted through her body as conflicting thoughts had bounced around in her mind so often that she’d barely gotten a wink of sleep. Too often she relived the humiliation of her family telling Lord Gideon that no man in Bonnybridge considered her worthy enough to dance with, let along court. She’d witnessed the softening in Lord Gideon’s beautiful eyes—sympathy. Further, by his own admission, he confessed his kindness when dealing with smugglers in Cornwall. So how could she trust that it wasn’t simply his kindness that kept him here?
He’d insisted that he didn’t do anything he didn’t wish and would have left if he so desired, but could she trust in those words?
He also claimed not to be comfortable with telling a falsehood.
Did he truly want to remain at Anagburn and come to know her better? Or was it something else?
Pride?
Rolling over, Arabella punched her pillow.
Aye, she liked Lord Gideon, very much, and spending time with him over the next few weeks would be delightful indeed, but to what purpose? He was English and would return home after he fulfilled his obligation. There would be no betrothal or marriage. Of that she was certain. For one, he was a lord and would seek a lady to fill the role of his wife. And second, she didn’t wish to leave Scotland, or her family, even if he did want Arabella to be his. So, the only thing she truly risked in coming to know Lord Gideon better was her heart.
Aye, she was already smitten and if the next weeks continued as yesterday, she’d be in danger of falling in love with him, which could not happen under any circumstance.
Perhaps if she kept in mind the risks, she’d be able to guard the emotions that could lead to her downfall.
If she thought of Lord Gideon as a friend, as she did Jesse and Fanella
, she would be in less danger of losing her heart.
Sitting up, Arabella swung her legs over the side of the bed. That was exactly what she’d do. Lord Gideon would only be a friend. One that she might hold dear at the end of the fortnight, but a friend only.
However, in order to ensure that she didn’t succumb to more emotional, and possibly destroying emotions, she’d also limit her time in his presence.
Anagburn was large so it shouldn’t be so difficult to avoid him, with the exception of luncheon, supper, and in the evenings when the family gathered together. And when his time here was done, she’d wave goodbye and return to her life as it was before he appeared.
And, there would certainly be no more kissing, as that was the most dangerous thing she could do, and dear friends did not kiss.
Pulling herself from the bed, Arabella wandered to the window and looked outside. It promised to be a lovely day and after she broke her fast, Arabella would devise ways to be scarce. At least it was early enough that nobody should be breakfasting yet. Or so she hoped. The wedding celebration had run late because her brothers and cousins hadn’t allowed themselves to fully enjoy the whisky until the guests had gone so Arabella didn’t expect to see them until the afternoon. Then there was Lord Gideon, who had traveled here from London. She had heard that nobody in Society thought to stir from their beds until at least midday, so she should be free of him for a bit as well.
Quickly, she dressed and found her way to the kitchens, avoiding the breakfast room just in case others were awake, and grabbed a slice of warm bread and an apple. These she ate on her way to the mews.
Her birds rested on perches but it was too early to take them out. Instead, she’d hunt with them this afternoon. That should eat up at least three hours of her day when nobody’d be able to find her, but what to do now?
Gideon stretched, sat up in the bed and looked around. Instead of being given a room within the manor, because that would not be proper, they’d placed him in a cottage just on the other side of the tree-line from the distillery.
Kissing the Lass (Scot to the Heart #2) Page 6
