A Secret Love (Cynster 5)

"You can tell me here. In this din, it's unlikely anyone will overhear."

The idea didn't suit, but she knew him too well to push.

"Very well." She glanced around, then looked up at him. "It seems you're destined to choose a wife soon. I wanted to make sure you were fully acquainted with all your options."

"Indeed?"

"My daughter, Clara-I dare say you might remember her. She's been well trained to be an accommodating wife, and while our estate and lineage might not measure up to that of the Cynsters, there would, of course, be compensations."

The purr in her voice, the lascivious gleam in her eyes, left no doubt as to what those "compensations" might be.

Gabriel looked at her coldly, then he let his mask slip, let his contempt and revulsion show. Lady Herries paled and stepped back-then had to apologize to the lady she'd backed into.

When she looked back at Gabriel, his expression was impassive once more. "You were misinformed. I am not presently searching for a wife." He inclined his head. "If you'll excuse me."

Stepping around Lady Herries, Gabriel continued on his way, searching, not for a wife, but for a widow. When he found her, after he'd wrung her neck and administered a few other physical torments, he'd turn his mind to marrying her.

First, he had to find her.

She ought to be here. Almost everyone of note was. She was of his circle-that he did not doubt-so where was she?

Behind his elegantly aloof facade, he felt decidedly grim. He'd been sure he'd get one of her countessly summonses the evening following their midnight drive. But he hadn't. He'd spent the whole evening with Chance popping in and out of the parlor like a Jack-in-the-box, wondering why he'd stayed in. Reining in his impatience-not easy after that midnight interlude and the tempest of emotions she'd unleashed-he'd waited at home the following night, with no greater success.

Now he was hungry-ravenous-not just for her, but even more to know she was his, to know where she was, to know he could put his hand on her whenever he wished. He was tense, wound tight with a need to possess far greater than any he'd previously experienced in all the years of his rakish career. He had to find out who she was, where she lived, where she was.

His copy of Burke's Peerage had started to exert a hypnotic tug. He'd caught himself considering the leather bound tome on a number of occasions. But he'd promised… given his word… the word of a Cynster.

He'd spent all last night, alone again, trying to devise some way around that promise. His Aunt Helena would know who the countess was-she always knew who was whose son, who had recently died, who married a young bride. Unfortunately, Helena would immediately inform his mother of his inquiry, and that he could do without. For hours he'd toyed with the notion of throwing himself on Honoria's mercy and asking for her aid. She'd give it, but it would come at a price; nothing was more certain. The present duchess of St. Ives was not one to pass up a never-to-be-repeated advantage. It was a measure of his desperation that he even contemplated asking her.

In the end, he'd concluded that his promise-the promise the countess had so artfully phrased-bound him too tightly and left him no room to manuever. Thrown back on his own devices, he had come here tonight for the sole purpose of tracking her down.

Her-his houri-the woman who had captured his soul.

Raising his head, he scanned the room. The one feature she could not conceal was her height. There were a number of tall ladies present, but he knew them all-not one was an elusive countess. Alathea, he noted, was presently on the dance floor, partnered by Chillingworth. He looked away. At least the dance was only a cotillion, not a waltz.

"There you are. At last!"

Lucifer struggled free of the crowd. Gabriel raised a questioning brow.

His brother stared at him. "Well, the twins, of course!"

Gabriel looked around, and spotted his fair cousins on the dance floor. "They're dancing."

"I know that," Lucifer stated through his teeth. "But it's more than time for you to take the watch."

Gabriel studied the twins for one second more, then looked back at Lucifer. "Not anymore. They don't need watching. Just as long as we're here if they need us."

Lucifer's jaw nearly dropped. "What? You can't be serious."

"Perfectly. They're halfway through their second Season. They know the ropes. They're not ninnyhammers."

"I know that-God knows, they're sharp as tacks. But they're female."

"I'd noticed. I've also noticed that they don't appreciate our endeavors." Gabriel paused, then added, "And they might have reasonable cause to accuse us of excessive interference in their lives."

"Alathea's spoken to you, hasn't she?"

"She's spoken to you, too."