The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower

by Hazel Linwood

  Gabriel tried to turn away, to save them both from further pain, but he could not. Like a moth to a flame, he could not have left her there any more than he could have ceased to breathe. Silently, he moved forward, calling out her name when he came to stand beside her. “Diana.”

  “Gabriel?” Surprised, she spun around and tripped over her own feet. He thought he heard the fabric of her gown tear and he reached out to stop her from hitting the ground, sweeping her up into his arms. The feel of her waist in his hands brought the fire within him roaring to life and he pulled her tightly against him.

  She then told him about a maid within the household warning her against the Dowager Marchioness. It was clear that she was afraid of the possibility of future harm, whether to her person or her reputation, he knew not.

  “I do not know what she is capable of or what I am to do, if anything.”

  Gabriel pulled her tighter into his arms, protectively. “I would never allow anything ill to befall you while here at Westwallow, nor would the Marquess.”

  Diana looked up at him and held his eyes with hers as she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his. In that moment, he did not care who he was or how wrong for her he was. All that he cared about was having her in his arms. Caught up in the intimacy of the moment as the music flowed around them, the stars twinkling above, with the dew below, masked by the enchantment of darkness, Gabriel succumbed to his heart’s true longing and kissed her back with a passion that defied all sense of time and reason.

  A searing heat flooded his body as a sense of inexplicable emotion filled his entire being. His heart raced from the ecstasy of her touch and he felt as if it might leap from his chest it beat so fiercely. He had never felt anything like it before meeting her and now, no matter his prior resolve, he could not withhold himself from her. Pulling his head towards her, Diana deepened the kiss to maddening heights of passion that had Gabriel lifting her up off of the ground.

  “Diana?” the Earl of Appley’s voice called from the house. Hearing footsteps approaching, Gabriel reluctantly released her and watched as she melted away into the night, back toward the house.

  “I am here,” Diana called out and then she was gone, the moment between them going with her. It had once again been all too fleeting, and he would have gladly lived in it forever and yet it should once again never have happened. He felt a strange mixture of sorrow at her departure and guilt at his lack of resolve to keep his distance.

  “Gabriel,” his father interrupted his thoughts, stepping up to stand beside him. He placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.

  “Father,” Gabriel replied turning to face the stablemaster.

  “Your absence has been noted among the other servants and your mother is concerned, son. The stables will be fine without you for a time.”

  “My apologies, Father,” Gabriel answered, his heart still racing in his chest. “I have been forbidden the house by the Dowager Marchioness.”

  His father frowned deeply. “She may have denied you the dance, but she cannot bar you from the kitchens. Perhaps it would be best if you went and aided your mother there.”

  “I believe that it would be best if I remained outside, but if Mother needs me, then I will gladly go,” Gabriel answered, falling into step with his father’s steady long-legged stride. The look on his face stated all too clearly that he was greatly displeased at the Dowager Marchioness’ choice to refuse him entry. The thought occurred to him that his father might also have seen him with Lady Diana.

  “Father, I…” he began but was not certain how to continue.

  “I know, son. I saw you with her.”

  “I cannot resist her, Father,” Gabriel admitted with a deep sense of guilt and wonder. “No matter how hard that I try, I cannot resist her.”

  “I know, my son, and sorry I am for you both,” his father replied, once more placing a hand on his shoulder. The sympathy that he felt for his son was clear in his tone and the comforting weight of his hand.

  “What am I going to do, Father? I have no notion as to what to do. The Marquess wishes for me to find a bride among those in attendance tonight and yet I find myself unable to do so.”

  Opening the door to the servants’ entrance, Gabriel reluctantly stepped inside. Upon entering, he surveyed the brightly colored, delicious-smelling ensemble of foods before him and smiled as his mother shouted orders to the kitchen staff. Everyone appeared to be giving the dance their full attention. A formal ball would have lasted well into the night, but a servants’ dance was a much shorter affair. They all knew that they needed to work fast so that they might join everyone else upstairs before it was all over. Some in attendance would choose to serve the others as a kindness while others would dance the night away in one glorious evening of abandon.

  Gabriel knew that the kitchen servants would be kept busy the whole evening through and if he did not step in to help, his own mother would not get to enjoy anything of the event. Leaving his conversation with his father temporarily unfinished, he decided that he would take his mother’s place so that she might go and dance with his father above stairs. Stepping forward, he took the knife from his mother’s hand and gently shoved her forward into his father’s arms.

  His father smiled and lifted his hand in a gesture of gratitude, then swept Gabriel’s mother up into his arms, kissing her soundly. Gabriel shooed them both away up the stairs and turned to cutting slices of cake.

  “Gabriel,” Roberts’ voice interrupted his work and he turned to see what the butler needed of him. “The Marquess has asked for you to join him in the library above stairs.”

  “The Dowager Marchioness has denied me access to the house.”

  “His Lordship commands it and his word supersedes the Dowager Marchioness.”

  Gabriel nodded, set the knife down, and left Roberts to direct the kitchen staff. Gabriel climbed the stairs and slipped unnoticed through the crowd into the library.

  “Gabriel,” the Marquess greeted him from his reclining position on the chaise lounge. He was with a small number of people scattered about the room admiring the library’s collection.

  “Allow me to introduce to you, Miss Rebeca Burbank, daughter of the village blacksmith, Mr. William Burbank. Miss Burbank, may I present Mr. Gabriel Rowan, son of Mr. James Rowan, the stable master of Westwallow.”

  “Miss Burbank,” Gabriel bowed slightly in greeting.

  “I thought that perhaps the two of you could become better acquainted,” the Marquess informed them with a smile, his eyes telling Gabriel that Miss Burbank was exactly the woman that he needed.

  Rebecca Burbank was a petite young woman. She was so small in form that her head only came to his chest. Her eyes were so blue as to appear a deep lavender and her hair was so black as to seem blue in places as the dark tresses flickered in the candlelight. Her ebony mane was done up neatly in the current London style, with dark ringlets framing her face, much as a lady of breeding would have done.

  She had an air of intelligence about her demeanor and a wise smile that was warm and sincere in appearance, telling all those who looked upon her that she bore a secret meant only for the bravest among them. Her skin was pale and flawless but for the smallest scar peeking out from the top of her left brow.

  “Mr. Rowan,” she replied, while Gabriel bowed over her extended hand. She was exactly the ideal woman that someone in Gabriel’s position would have been fortunate to wed, but as beautiful as Rebecca Burbank was, she was not Diana.

  “May I have the honor of the next dance, Miss Burbank?” Gabriel inquired, knowing full well what was expected of him by the Marquess. He knew that he might get kicked out of the house if the Dowager Marchioness saw him, but as he was under instructions from the Marquess, he had very little choice in the matter.

  “It would be a pleasure, Mr. Rowan,” she replied, allowing him to lead her out of the library and into the ballroom.

  As they entered the ballroom, another waltz began to play, causing Gabriel to feel even
more uncomfortable than he already did. He led the blacksmith’s daughter out onto the dancefloor and did his best to be companionable. When the waltz ended, they joined in a reel which was much less intimate than the waltz had been, much to Gabriel’s relief.

  Miss Burbank was a kind woman, with a good amount of knowledge about horses and blacksmithing, as well as the usual domestic knowledge that would be expected of a future wife.

  “How is it that we have never met before now?” he asked. “I thought I was acquainted with the village blacksmith’s family.”

  “My elder sister and I have been away as lady’s companions to the Dowager Duchess of Vander. We were in Italy for the season.”

  “I see,” Gabriel answered. “What an interesting season you must have had. Did you enjoy Italy?”

  “Indeed,” she agreed enthusiastically. “I love Italy! It is a beautiful land of lemon and orange orchards, olive groves, sun-ripened tomatoes, sparkling blue waters, delicious food and wine, hospitable people, and an ancient history that rises up out of the landscape.”

  “Will you and your sister be remaining in England for the year or will you be returning to Italy?” Gabriel asked, not wishing to waste his time on someone who would not be available to aid him in staying away from Diana.

  “No, we will be staying in England for the remainder of the year. The Dowager Duchess only travels during certain months and refuses to do so outside of that time.”

  “I am certain that your family is more than happy to have you back home.”

  “My father is the most grateful of the family to have us home to aid our mother. She has not been feeling well of late. Now that we are home, we will be able to take over her duties so that she may rest.”

  “I am sorry to hear of your family’s difficulties,” Gabriel replied, his heart going out to them. He had liked the blacksmith and his wife very much when he had met them earlier in the year. They had been kind people who had appeared to love each other very much.

  “There is nothing to be done for it but to endure.”

  When the second dance finally ended, he escorted her off of the floor. “Shall I get some spirits or spiced punch for us both? Or would you prefer something to eat?”

  “Yes, please. Thank you, Mr. Rowan,” she answered, smiling sweetly up at him with such trust that he felt another pang of guilt stab through his chest. “I would very much like to try some of your mother’s cider. I have heard many good things about it from my parents.”

  “Mother will be most pleased to hear it,” he answered, smiling, then went in search of the cider jug.

  Gabriel found the cider jug in the kitchen pantry and poured both he and Miss Burbank a cup. The cider turned his thoughts once more to Diana and the kiss that they had shared. He could still feel the passion of her lips upon his own. The mere thought of their touch caused his heart to race and his breath to catch in his throat. Miss Burbank was a charming companion, and had he met her before he had first laid eyes upon the irreplaceable Lady Diana, he would have paid her court without hesitation, but he had met Diana and it was too late to change his heart now.

  He knew that the Marquess and the rest of English society would have preferred that he turn his attentions toward the lovely lavender eyes of Miss Burbank, but Gabriel could only bring Diana’s golden amber gaze to mind. How could he, in good conscience, court and wed Miss Burbank while he would eternally be bound to Diana’s heart?

  He remembered his promise to the Marquess that he would try to find a girl better suited to his station in life. It was the entire reason for hosting the dance, but when he had seen Diana alone in the dark of the night, twirling in all her radiant golden splendor, he had been unable to resist her. She had kissed him, and he had been lost.

  Returning to the ballroom, cider in hand, he did his best to wipe the memory of Diana’s kiss from his mind. He had to try to keep his promise to the Marquess and to protect Diana by keeping his distance from her.

  A wife is the only certain way. No matter how badly it hurts, I must see this through.

  Chapter 20

  Diana watched from where she stood against the ballroom wall as Gabriel swung the beautiful village girl around in his arms. He had been barred from the house and had not risked reproach to see Diana but had risked the Dowager Marchioness’ ire to dance with the dark-haired fairy-like girl. Diana had never seen eyes of such a stunning hue. They pulled a person in immediately, threatening to never let them go, they were so intoxicating in their ethereal beauty.

  The Earl had called for Diana to dance, as instructed by the Dowager Marchioness. It had been a jarring change, to be passionately kissed within Gabriel’s work-hardened, muscled arms, then immediately swept up into a dance within the Earl’s strong but elegant arms. It was as if someone had dumped a cold bucket of water on her while she was in the midst of a raging fever. The feeling had left her unwilling to dance the next song and she had retreated to the edge of the ballroom under the guise of fatigue.

  She had seen Gabriel and the dark haired, fairy-like beauty sweep across the floor in front of her in a waltz. She had known what the dance was truly for and had been under no illusions what that would mean for her, but that did not keep it from hurting. Unable to bear the sight of the couple gazing at each other, Diana slipped out of the ballroom to go and look in on the Marquess. She found him fatigued and in desperate need of rest.

  Asking the remaining visitors to leave the room, Diana closed the library doors. “Would you like for me to call for your valet so that you might change into your night shirt and be more comfortable?”

  “No,” he shook his head. “I cannot have anyone coming upon me in a less than fully-dressed state. I will simply sleep as I am until the guests have gone, then I will change.”

  “As you wish.”

  “We must keep up the appearance of civility even if we are not truly feeling very civil ourselves. I can see from the look on your face that you are feeling less than ideal yourself. Is there anything that you wish to speak with me about?”

  “No,” Diana lied, but it was not his responsibility to make her feel better about the situation that she now found herself in. It had been her own foolishness that had gotten her heart broken.

  “Why do I feel that you are being less than truthful with me right now?”

  Diana smiled at his observational skills. “Because I am,” she admitted, but it was all that she was willing to admit.

  “You saw Gabriel with Miss Burbank?”

  “I did,” she nodded slowly in trepidation, once again surprised by his insight.

  “I am sorry for your pain, but as our society now stands…” he did not finish the sentence, as there was no need. They both knew the answer.

  “I know,” she murmured, ashamed of her lack of willpower where Gabriel was concerned.

  “Come and sit with me for a moment,” the Marquess invited, motioning to the chair beside him.

  Diana obeyed and as she did so she felt his forehead to make certain that he had not developed a fever.

  “You feel a bit warm,” she mused in concern. She wet a clean cloth in the bowl of cool water and laid it over his brow.

  “Shall I call for some tea?”

  “No,” he shook his head. “Let the servants enjoy themselves. I will be well in time.”

  “May it be so,” Diana murmured, as a prayer.

  “It pleases me that you care so very much about my demise. You have quickly become as family to me, aside from your grandmother having been my godmother. I have come to view you as a younger sister and it is for this reason that I greatly wish for you to be happy, but I also wish to preserve your reputation. These feelings that you and Gabriel share will only bring you pain.”

  “It already has.”

  “And for that I am greatly sorrowed. Is there no hope that you and Tobias might come to an arrangement? Have you felt nothing for him over these past few days?”

  “The Earl is a wonderful man, kind and compassionate,
but I do not love him.”

  “I know how important that love is to you, just as it is to me, but if one’s heart leads them down an impossible path, then one must find a safer alternative.”

  “And as a woman it is unthinkable to society that I be allowed to do as I please,” she remarked bitterly.

  “Unfortunately, that is the way of things, but I know that your parents have your best interest at heart in this matter. Your father will not live forever, and when he passes you will need the protection of a husband and the security that comes with bearing sons, as you do not have a brother to care for you. I am aware of the way that you feel about such strictures, but even romantic hearts such as ours must bow to the inevitable. I would wed you myself, but I have no wish to compete for your affections within my own household. I believe that you deserve to find the love that you seek and we both know that I am not that man.”