A Secret Love (Cynster 5)

"Sailor fellow-a Captain something. Didn't catch his last name."

"What did he look like?"

At the sudden tension in her voice, the earl turned to meet her gaze. "He was of middle height, rather portly. Had great grizzled whiskers down both cheeks. His domes marked him as a seaman, senior rank-there's always a nautical air to such men." He searched Alathea's face. "Why? Is he important?"

Alathea reined in her excitement. "He could be. Wiggs and I think there's a legal way of overturning the promissory note, but we need to learn more about the company's business. A man like this captain could be very helpful." She gripped her father's hand. "Was he with anyone you knew?"

Her father shook his head. "No. But if it's important, I can ask around."

"Do, Papa-it could be very important. And if you should stumble across him again, promise me you'll bring him home."

Her father's brows quirked, but he nodded. "Right, then. I suppose I'd better get on to White's and see if I can track him down."

"Oh, yes!" Alathea bounced to her feet as he rose. "This could help us enormously, Papa. Thank you!" She swooped at him and kissed him on the cheek.

Catching her within one arm, he hugged her. "Thank you, my dear." He looked into her face, then placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Don't ever think I don't appreciate all you've done-I don't know what I did right to deserve you. I can only be glad you're mine."

Alathea blinked rapidly. "Oh, Papa!" She hugged him quickly, then broke away, glancing through the window. "I must get Jeremy off to his lessons or he'll play cricket all day."

Still blinking, she hurried out.

Chapter 10

That evening at Lady Castlereagh's ball, Alathea found herself plagued by gentlemen. With but little help from her, the number of mature bachelors who considered her an agreeable dance partner had been steadily growing as the Season progressed. Despite Celia's conviction that she hugged the walls, she was too astute to do so constantly. True anonymity meant doing nothing to make herself remarkable; she therefore duly danced and waltzed, not every dance but enough to ensure no one saw need to comment on her abstention.

Indeed, she enjoyed waltzing, although there were few men tall enough to meet her requirements. Yet despite the hurdle of her unusual height, the ranks of her admirers, as Serena insisted on terming them, had somehow swollen to the legion.

Which made life exceedingly awkward when, after two dances, she wanted to slink into the shadows, the better to consider her current difficulties. The principal one was present, garbed in severe walnut-black, his locks burnished, his manner ineffably urbane. He'd extended himself to dance the same two dances she had, but was now ambling, deliberately aimlessly, through the crowd. If he could dispense with the need to do the pretty and converse, she felt it only fair that she could, too.

"I'm afraid, dear sirs"-she beamed a smile at the gentlemen surrounding her-"that I must leave you for the present. One of my stepsisters…" With an airy wave, she led them to believe she'd been summoned across the room. As joining Mary and Alice meant braving a gaggle of youthful damsels, none of the gentlemen offered to accompany her. They bowed and begged for promi

ses of her return; she smiled and glided away from them.

The crush was unbelievable. Lady Castlereagh was one of the senior hostesses-her invitations could not be declined. That, Alathea suspected, accounted for the presence of most of the Cynsters, Gabriel included. Using the crowd to her advantage, she made her way to a narrow embrasure occupied by a pedestal topped by a bust of Wellington. She took refuge in the lee of the pedestal, screened from at least half the room.

Thankfully also screened from some of the noise-it was hard to hear her own thoughts. Across the room, she saw Gabriel, with obvious reluctance, relieve Lucifer of his watch on the twins. Taking up a position almost directly opposite her, Gabriel looked wary.

Alathea grinned. She searched the throng for the twins. Even using Gabriel's gaze for direction, she still couldn't see them. With an expectant sigh, she settled back, almost against the wall but not quite. Anyone seeing her would assume she was waiting for some gentleman or a youthful charge to return to her side.

Thus concealed, she settled to ponder how to tell her knight on a white charger where he should look for their relief. She'd issued the summons; he'd come galloping to her aid-now she was stuck with him and his notion of rewards. Dealing with him further was going to prove difficult, but she couldn't proceed without him.

Coming up with the captain, stumbling upon him in the crowd on a dance floor, was beyond unlikely-his sort stuck to the clubs, not the park or the ton's entertainments. The captain was effectively out of her reach. She didn't dare pin all her hopes on her father appearing one day for luncheon with the captain in tow.

She had to tell Gabriel about the captain, and as soon as possible. Who knew how long a seagoing captain would remain ashore? He might already have sailed, but she refused to consider the possibility. Fate couldn't be that cruel. But how to tell Gabriel in safety?

A letter had seemed possible until she'd drafted one. Even though she'd included her father's description of the captain verbatim, the letter lacked life, and reeked of cowardice. She couldn't even sign it other than as "The Countess." Instead of sending it off, she'd torn it up and resumed her pondering.

If she didn't see Gabriel face to face, she would have no way of knowing how he reacted to her news, nor could she question him over what he'd learned-she was quite sure he wouldn't have been idle in the five days since they'd last met.

At the Burlington Hotel.

The mere name sent a wave of uncertainty through her; she immediately blocked it off. She couldn't afford to let her emotions rule her, or dictate her moves. What had Gabriel learned? Had Crowley done anything more? These were questions to which she needed answers; she would get answers only if she met Gabriel face to face, of that she was absolutely sure.

But the thought of being private, alone with him in the dark, made her shiver-and not with dread. The fact only increased her wariness and made her question her arguments. Were they merely rationalizations?

Standing in the pedestal's shadow, she examined, dissected, and reassembled her thoughts-and got nowhere. The situation irked; her inability to make up her mind rasped her temper.

Then he moved. She'd been watching him from the corner of her eye. As he forcefully handed the twins' watch back to Lucifer, then stepped into the crowd, she straightened. A clamp slowly closed about her lungs. There was, she told herself, no reason he should stroll her way, no reason he even knew she was there.