‘Where to?’
‘London to start with. What happens after that is still to be decided.’
‘Urgent, I gather?’ Alex offered Caroline his arm and began to walk back to the carriage. ‘I believe we have danced together at Almack’s before now, Lady Caroline.’
‘Just Caroline, please. And, yes, I recall that with pleasure, Lord Weybourn.’
‘Before we begin a delightful reminiscence of every time the pair of you have met socially, could we get on our way, do you think?’ Gabriel retrieved the bags and handed them up to the coachman. ‘There is a certain urgency.’
‘Why? An infuriated father with a shotgun on your trail?’ Alex helped Caroline into a forward-facing seat and sat down beside her, leaving Gabriel to sit with his back to the horses. He lounged back into a corner and propped his boots up on the other end of the bench, enjoying Alex’s wince at the insult to the plush upholstery.
‘That and the prospect of a trip to the altar with Woodruffe.’
‘Lord Woodruffe? Edgar Parfit?’ Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘No, really, Caroline, you don’t want to go marrying him. A sad dog, that one.’
‘No, of course I don’t, which is why I am leaving home and Lord Edenbridge is helping me.’
‘Your father is not open to reason on the subject?’
‘No.’
There was a tremor in her voice and Gabriel glared at Alex, even as he saw the other man’s face harden as he heard it, too. He knew about Woodruffe’s proclivities, too, it appeared.
‘Nothing for it but to take a bolt to town, I see,’ Alex said easily. ‘You’ve nothing to worry about now. Gabe’s a scape-gallows, but I am thoroughly reliable and exceedingly respectable.’
‘If you are respectable it is only because of Tess’s influence.’
‘The love of a good woman,’ Alex said smugly.
Was that why Alex was so eager to assume this was an elopement—he was in love and therefore Gabriel’s actions must stem from the same source? He liked Caroline. Very much, he realised as he watched her making the effort to be calm and pleasant with Alex. He admired her. He desired her physically, which was hardly a surprise to him. And he would fight anyone who tried to hurt her. But then any gentleman with a shred of honour was duty-bound to protect a lady. The uncomfortable feeling of possessiveness was simply because this was the lady whose safety had fallen to him to defend.
‘Now, are you hungry, Caroline?’ Alex said. ‘We have a breakfast hamper under Gabriel’s seat. Dig it out, there’s a good fellow.’
‘Food that someone else has cooked?’ Gabriel swung his feet down and bent to explore the wicker basket. He was hungry. That was probably why he was brooding on his emotional state, of all things. ‘Heaven.’
‘Do I deduce that you have been fending for yourself?’ Alex caught the packet of bacon-filled rolls that Gabriel tossed at him. ‘That I should like to see.’
‘Lord Edenbridge has been acting as a hermit, part of my father’s landscaped park.’ Caroline took the roll Alex passed to her and a napkin that Gabriel unearthed from the hamper. ‘The kitchen sent him down supplies, but he has been cooking for himself in the hermitage.’
‘One snigger from you, Tempest, and you will regret it,’ Gabriel warned.
‘Dressed how?’ Alex demanded, filling beakers from a flask of cold tea. ‘Not in robes, surely?’
‘Oh, yes, with an enormous beard and a beautiful Welsh accent.’ Caroline was recovering her spirits along with the food, Gabriel was glad to see. ‘He was very convincing.’
‘Of course I saw the beard.’ Alex chuckled. ‘He was able to fool even Tess with such a disguise. But why—?’ Under Gabriel’s fulminating stare Alex snapped his mouth shut, but there was more speculation than amusement in the sharp hazel gaze that met his.
‘Later,’ Gabriel said. ‘I am only going to explain this once and I have no doubt there will be an audience awaiting us. Where are we going?’
‘Half Moon Street. My house. I sent a note to Cris and told him I would fetch you, but you are right, it is certain we’ll find him there with Tamsyn when we arrive.’
‘The Marquess of Avenmore? I have never met him, but I know his reputation. He is not going to approve of me, is he?’ Caroline sounded anxious again.
‘Cris is a pussy cat since his smuggler’s widow got her hands on him,’ Gabriel said, contemplating the choice between a raised pork pie or a slice of cheese flan and deciding on both.
‘He’ll fillet you if he hears you describing Tamsyn in those terms.’ Alex poured Caroline some more tea and settled to explaining that the new marchioness was a perfectly respectable lady who had committed the minor indiscretion of a first marriage to the leader of a gang of smugglers.
She was relaxing now, even laughing at Alex’s irreverent remarks. He had an indecent amount of charm when he chose to exert it. Before his marriage he had been wary of directing it at unmarried ladies and since his marriage he was probably in danger of grievous bodily harm from his adoring wife if he flirted, but Gabriel could tell he could not resist trying to put Caroline at her ease.