The Unexpected Marriage of Gabriel Stone (Lords of Disgrace 4)

He should be glad of it. The last thing they wanted on their hands was a frightened woman, too nervous to make a decision about her own future. On the other hand, his idiocy last night had probably given her plenty to think about. Thank heavens he’d the self-control to stop. But what had he been thinking about? With my damn boots on, too. He could only account for it as the release of tension after the dangers of the night.

‘What are you glowering about?’ Alex enquired.

‘Is anything wrong, Gabriel?’

The last thing he needed was anxious sympathy and a pair of worried blue eyes gazing at him, to feel this strange pang under his breastbone because she was looking weary and that lovely blonde hair was bedraggled, with just one lock coming loose to her collar. He wanted to kiss the shadows under those periwinkle eyes...

‘Tired, that’s all. If Alex would only be quiet for five minutes together, I’d go to sleep.’ He stretched his legs out along the seat again, tipped his hat over his eyes and prepared to feign slumber. It came immediately, taking him by surprise, whirling him down into soft darkness and strange dreams, soothed by a soft, unfamiliar chuckle. I’ve never heard her laugh, not like that... Gabriel slept.

* * *

‘We have arrived. Do you have a veil?’

Alex’s words, the first in over an hour, jerked Caroline out of the trance state she had entered as the effects of food, warmth and safety took effect. She had been watching Gabriel as he slept, his long body loose and beautiful in its unconsidered sprawl. He should have seemed vulnerable, but she had seen the sudden tensing of his hands as they had slowed for a turnpike, then the instant relaxation as the familiar bustle of the gate registered with his sleeping brain. In a crisis he would have been awake and dangerous in seconds.

‘A veil? No, I am sorry.’ Of course, the viscount would not want his neighbours recognising the crumpled and unchaperoned female stumbling out of his carriage. This was a fashionable street and at least a few residents would know her by sight.

‘No need to worry, Tess made me bring one.’ Alex produced a handful of black gauze from his pocket and she swathed it over head and face as Gabriel sat up, got his feet on the floor and his hat straight.

‘What time is it?’

‘Gone twelve. Later than I’d planned, but Caroline would not let me spring the horses, said it would wake you up.’

Alex got out as the front door opened and Caroline made a business of ordering her skirts, grateful that the veil obscured her blush at the look Gabriel sent her. No doubt he was as surprised over her concern as Alex had been.

‘Have you got them safe?’ A lady was in the hall, flushed from Alex’s enthusiastic kiss. Caroline’s immediate impression was of softness—soft brown hair, soft curves on a slender frame, soft voice. ‘Oh, yes, there you are, Gabriel, and this must be— Oh!’ Caroline pushed back the folds of her veil. ‘But you are Lady Caroline Holm, I recognise you, although we have never met.’ She turned to the open door behind her. ‘Cris, Tamsyn, they are here safe.’

The tall, intimidating figure of the Marquess of Avenmore appeared in the doorway and, in front of him, a young woman who said, ‘But I’ve seen you before. In the corridor at Lady Ancaster’s soirée, with Gabriel.’

‘At Lady Ancaster’s...’ That must have been when Gabriel had just kissed her, had told her that he had never meant to act on the IOU for her virtue, had dismissed her, leaving her feeling naive and gauche and unwanted. This young woman had come up behind Gabriel. Had she overheard what Caroline had said? A promise is a promise, but if you do not want me—

It could have meant anything, she told herself desperately. If you do not want me to dance with you next week. If you do not want me to give you one of the kittens...

‘Kittens,’ she said out loud, wondering if she was about to faint.

‘For goodness sake, the poor dear is on the point of collapse.’ It was the brunette again. ‘Make room, all of you, and let her come into the drawing room.’

Hands propelled her through the door before she had the opportunity to make her curtsy to the marquess, which suddenly seemed important. She found herself seated on a chaise in front of a small fire that was comforting, despite the warmth of the day.

‘Tea is coming. Now put up your feet and we will send these men out.’ The brunette made vague flapping gestures as though shooing chickens and the three large males obediently took themselves off, leaving the room soothingly quiet.

‘Now do not feel you have to explain anything just yet,’ the lady from the soirée said. ‘If you have been with Gabriel for several days you probably just want to lie down with a cold compress on your head and sip camomile tea. That man manages to be utterly exhausting, even when he is simply standing still.’

‘It is because he looks as though he is thinking wicked thoughts all the time,’ the soft-voiced one said. ‘Really very wicked thoughts, even when he has a perfectly straight face. And I get intrigued and wonder about them and how wicked they are...and then I catch his eye and I am convinced he knows I am imagining such things so I blush and he smiles and then—’ She laughed. ‘And here I am, very happily married, passionately in love with my husband, pregnant, and the very last thing I want is to be doing anything even mildly naughty with Gabriel Stone. I’m Tess, by the way. Teresa Tempest, which is a ridiculous name. And this is Tamsyn de Feaux.’

‘Lady Weybourn, Lady Avenmore.’ Caroline dragged her tumbling thoughts back from contemplating Gabriel and wickedness and tried to remember her manners. ‘I am Caroline Holm, Lord Knighton’s daughter.’

‘And you are very welcome to my house,’ Tess said warmly. ‘Gabriel’s note simply said you needed rescuing. May we ask what from?’

‘Edgar Parfit, Lord Woodruffe. And, I suppose, from my father.’

‘He wants you to marry that slug? Well then, certainly you must be rescued!’ Tess turned to Tamsyn. ‘Have you met him? He’s a nasty, unh

ealthy, pale colour with fat hands and thick lips and a beastly habit of ogling any female who is not well protected. Even when you are, he tries to stand too close, or brush against you by accident. I stood on his toes with my new French heels the other evening—quite by accident, of course. He had tried to pinch my derrière. And he must need money because he is wildly extravagant.’

‘Fortunately I haven’t been out in London society long enough to have encountered him.’ Tamsyn regarded Caroline, head on one side. Caroline made an effort to sit up straighter and not look as feeble as she felt, just at this moment. This woman, the smuggler’s widow, looked as though she would take a musket to Lord Woodruffe if provoked, not run away. ‘I suppose that just refusing to marry him didn’t work?’

‘No.’ Caroline took a deep breath. ‘You will probably think I am exaggerating the problem. I had better tell you everything.’ Not about my IOU, bartering my virginity for the deeds, but everything else. They need to understand.