by Meghan Sloan
“A spark of something should be there between you,” Gabriel murmured.
“Yes. Enjoying a woman’s company is one thing, but if there’s nothing there between us, that just makes things a lot harder.”
“I hear you.”
Gabriel understood more than he realised. That made him pause. He always thought he’d found a spark of sorts with the women he had enjoyed the company of privately, but now he knew it was simple lust. It wouldn’t last beyond basic instincts. Had he been trying to find the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and got it completely wrong?
After what had happened and with society still ablaze with the rumours, it would be a miracle if he got a marriage at all.
An image of Cassandra floated through his mind, and Gabriel shoved it aside. Now was not the time to be thinking about her. Not for him.
“It’s not easy finding the ‘spark’, as you call it.” Gabriel ran a hand through his hair. “For me, it was just an illusion. They disappeared almost as soon as I saw it.”
Percy chuckled.
“I’m sure the ladies will be delighted to hear that. Although I’m sure there’s one lady in particular who will argue that.”
“If you’re talking about Jessica Gibson, she seems to think there’s a lot more going on.” Gabriel sighed, “The woman believes that if she keeps bothering me, she’ll get me to realise that we’re meant to be together.”
“I presume you led her on?”
“I told her that I wasn’t looking for anything permanent. She knew what she was getting into.” Jessica was not as innocent as she made herself out to be to her family. “I’ve spoken to her father about her consistent pestering, but I doubt that’s going to stop her.”
Hopefully, the man would follow through with taking Jessica away from Ipswich. Then Gabriel could breathe a little more easily. It was his fault, if he was being brutally honest. He should have made things clearer, or not target Jessica as a mistress. But hindsight was not useful now.
“I did warn you that getting involved with her would be a bad idea. She’s…” Percy tapped his head, “she’s missing a few things up here.”
“Now I wish I had listened.” Gabriel sat on the bench and patted the seat beside him. “Anyway, it’s about women that I’m here.”
Percy groaned.
“If you’re in trouble with one again, you’re going to have to deal with it yourself. I’m not getting involved.”
“It’s not like that, Percy. Come and sit down.”
Percy hesitated, but he did take a seat. Gabriel handed him the pruning shears and crossed his legs at the ankles.
“I’ve found someone who would be a perfect bride for you. She’s young, obviously unmarried, and very pretty.”
Percy’s eyes widened. Then they narrowed.
“This isn’t one of your lady friends, is it? Because I don’t want to be paired up with someone you’ve known intimately.”
“No, of course not. She’s far too bright to get involved with me.” Gabriel felt a stirring in his gut and cleared his throat. “I’ve spoken to her about you in passing and she was curious. She’s asked about you quite a bit since I first mentioned you. I think she would be keen to meet you.”
There it was. The light in Percy’s eyes. He was curious. But then his expression turned wary.
“You’re not doing this to toy with me, are you?”
“Why would I do that?”
“You’ve done it before.”
Gabriel bit back a retort. He had teased his brother in the past, but never about this. Even so, he understood why Percy would be unsure; he had been caught up with some of Gabriel’s machinations in the past, and that hadn’t turned out well for either of them. Percy would be nervous about approaching something that involved Gabriel.
“I’m not messing about this time, Percy.” Gabriel sat forward. “She really does want to meet you, Percy. She’s interested to know more about you.”
“Hmm.” Percy’s eyes narrowed. “What’s her name? And how did you meet someone who is even remotely respectable?”
“I’m hurt, little brother. You think I can’t meet someone who is respectable?”
“Not the people in your social circle, Gabe.”
“You mean my former social circle,” Gabriel grimaced. He didn’t want to be reminded of the people he thought were his friends but who had then deserted him when he lost his social standing. “Her name is Cassandra Seton. And we just bump into each other when I go into Ipswich. She’s friends with Emily Barrington.”
“I know Emily.” Percy’s cheeks reddened. “She’s...a very pleasant young woman.”
“Well, Miss Seton is a pleasant young woman as well,” Gabriel grinned. “And she’s keen to make your acquaintance.”
“I...I’m not sure what to say about that.” Percy swallowed and peered curiously at his brother. “I’m surprised you haven’t approached her yourself. You do with any attractive woman, which is why finding a bride for me is more difficult than normal.”
“I go for women who are a little more...experienced,” Gabriel bit back a wince as a knot built low in his gut. “Miss Seton is far too sweet for me. So how about it, Percy? Do you want me to arrange a meeting?”
“I...I suppose.” Percy looked hopeful, and then skeptical. “What’s she really like? Does she even exist?”
“Oh, she exists.” She most certainly exists. “And I know you two will get along really well.” Gabriel rose to his feet and brushed himself down. “Come on. Let’s sneak inside and get a drink. I’m sure Charles will allow us to have a little something.”
“A drink at this time of the morning?”
Gabriel winked.
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
#
“What about this one?”
Emily held up a fabric of pale pink. Cassandra inspected it and pursed her lips.
“It’s a nice colour, but not on you.”
“What do you mean?”
“With your pale skin, it would make you look like you’re unwell.”
Emily pouted and looked at the fabric again. Then she sighed and put it down.
“Maybe you’re right. Which is a shame, because it’s a beautiful colour.”
Cassandra sighed. She hated going shopping for dresses and anything related to fashion. It felt like a waste of time, but Cassandra was lucky that she had an innate ability to know what colours were the best for a situation and what would make a person stand out. It was why Emily had dragged her along to the nearest dressmaking store right after breakfast. Cassandra would rather go home and do something else but she wasn’t about to disappoint Emily, especially as her friend was not very good at choosing the right dress.
“How about that colour but a little darker?” she suggested. “That would work.”
“All right.” Emily laughed and swatted Cassandra’s arm. “Don’t sound like that. I had to get a new dress for the ball. Mother said I needed a new one, and I need you here with me.”
“How have you managed to get to your age and not know what colours work for you, Emily?”
“Because there are too many rules for us.” Emily sighed and ran her fingers over the row of fabrics on the table. “There are rules for women as to what colours we’re allowed to wear at certain times of day. There is a lot to take into consideration, and it’s a headache. I can’t keep up.”
Cassandra wasn’t about to argue with that. She had a sharp mind and was able to remember specific details, but they changed so often even she was beginning to struggle to keep up. It would be so much easier to let people wear what they wanted, but society would scoff and talk.
Nobody wanted to be spoken of badly, and Cassandra was no exception. She preferred to be left alone, which was why she was seldom present at social engagements. Emily was the same, but her parents were consistently pushing her to attend so she could further herself. It made both women roll their eyes.
The shop bell tinkled as
the door opened and closed. Cassandra didn’t pay it any attention. Mrs. Flynn’s dress store was incredibly busy so people were often coming in and out. Cassandra just wanted to keep her head down and leave. If only Emily could decide on what colour to choose; she had been around the shop three times already.
Two times too many for Cassandra.
“Good morning, little lady.”
Cassandra looked up. And then did a double-take. Mr. Jackson was standing on the other side of the table, openly leering at her. Cassandra stared. The man didn’t live in this part of Ipswich, nor did he work anywhere nearby. To see him standing before her was bewildering.
“Mr. Jackson. What are you doing here?”
“I saw you as I was walking past.” Mr. Jackson spread his hands. “I thought I’d come along to...incite an apology.”
Cassandra blinked. Had she heard him correctly?
“I beg your pardon?”
“I want an apology from you, little lady,” Mr. Jackson sneered, his eyes narrowed. “You treated me disgracefully last night and shamed me in front of everyone. Now I want you to apologise.”
The nerve of the man! Cassandra glanced at Emily, who was staring at Mr. Jackson like he had gone mad. So were the four young ladies and the matronly woman who were also in the shop. Cassandra folded her arms and cocked her head.
“You want me to apologise to you for throwing you out of Seton Hall because you were drunk and putting your hands on Ada?”
“She shouldn’t be asking for me to touch her.”
“And you should not blame others for your actions. Ada never did anything to you, and I was within my duty to protect her.” Cassandra shook her head. “The girls work there, but they are not there to satisfy...certain urges. They are respectable young ladies and they expect to be treated as such.”
Mr. Jackson sniggered.
“If you think those girls are respectable, you’re incredibly naive. So,” he rolled his shoulders, “I can safely say you’re not going to apologise.”
“I’m not going to apologise for throwing you out,” Cassandra jabbed a finger at him. She didn’t care that her anger was getting the better of her or that this was in a public place. How dare he speak like that so openly? “You should be the one apologising to me for the way you treated me. And to Ada. If you can’t do that, then you won’t be welcome at Seton Hall. I’ll make sure Father’s aware of it.”
“You think he’s going to listen to you?”
“He will because he’s not a disrespectful piece of dung.” Cassandra took a deep breath and stepped back. “Now, I would like you to get away from me.”
The young ladies across the shop were whispering between themselves, one of them openly staring at Cassandra. Mr. Jackson arched an eyebrow and folded his arms.
“I didn’t realise you owned this place, Miss Cassie. I can be in here if I please. You have no say in where I can and can’t go.”
“But I can.”
Cassandra looked around to see a tall, slim woman with iron-grey hair step into the shop from the back room. She fixed Mr. Jackson with a steely glare.
“Sir, you need to leave. You’re disrupting my customers and I won’t tolerate your behaviour towards them. If you don’t, I can easily summon the constable.”
Mr. Jackson looked like he was going to say something, but then thought better of it. He scowled at Mrs. Mary Flynn and turned back to Cassandra.
“I’ll get my own back on you, you little chit,” he hissed. “You’ll regret making a fool out of me.”
Cassandra bit back her retort. She watched him leave, the door slamming so hard behind him that the doorframe rattled. That was when Cassandra could breathe a little more easily. Even hours after throwing him out of Seton Hall, Mr. Jackson still smelled strongly of drink. He probably hadn’t stopped.
“Cassie?” Emily appeared at her side. “What was that all about?”
Cassandra sighed and turned to her friend.
“I’ll tell you once we’ve got this fabric chosen.”
Chapter 8
“I’m glad you’re agreeing to this, Percy.” Gabriel shook his brother’s hand, “I don’t want to upset the young lady.”
“The least I can do is meet her,” Percy shrugged. “If she’s that keen to meet me, I want to explore that possibility. There’s a chance I might like her, too.”
Gabriel grinned.
“Trust me, you’ll like her. Anyway, if this does work out and you do marry, you’ll be able to take some of the pressure off you. You’ll certainly make finding a wife for you so much easier than it was finding a wife for me.”
Percy chuckled.
“That’s because the suitable women around here are either too subservient to you or too much to handle.”
“I prefer the latter, but they’re definitely not the type to be the future Viscountess.”
“I’m sure Miss Gibson will be delighted to hear that.”
Gabriel shuddered. He’d really messed things up starting an affair with Jessica. In his mind, a short-term fling with the girl would have been perfect. And Jessica had known this up front. It was a bit of fun, just between them. But now Jessica seemed to think that more could happen between them.
She was determined to become Gabriel’s wife, even with clear indications that she was not going to get what she wanted. Even if Gabriel had considered her, she wouldn’t have been accepted by his parents. Derek Tattershall, especially, had declared that Jessica would never become his daughter-in-law, citing her unsuitable.
Now he had witnessed how fixated she was, Gabriel was inclined to agree.
He left the house and headed back home, going through the fields again. It was a beautiful day, and the sun was beating down enough to make Gabriel feel the sweat under his collar. He couldn’t wait to get back to the cottage and strip down to just his shirt so he could get a little cooler.
Being disowned did have its advantages; he didn’t necessarily have to follow the rules, and that included having to wear a multitude of clothing to follow the fashion of the time.
But as Gabriel stepped through the gate of the cottage, he realised that it wasn’t going to happen for a while yet. Not when he had a guest. A tall, slim man with broad shoulders and dark hair flecked with white was pacing around the garden, inspecting the feeble attempts to tidy up the garden. Gabriel bit back a groan.
His father was here.
Taking a deep breath, Gabriel headed across the garden.
“Father. I thought you were with Aunt Sally.”
“She and your mother headed into Ipswich before coming back to the house for dinner.” Derek turned and fixed his son with a steely gaze, “I thought I’d see how you were getting on.”
Gabriel snorted and folded his arms.
“I’m the same as you were the last time you came to see me. Nothing’s changed.”
“I noticed. Including your attitude,” Derek narrowed his eyes. “Allen said you went to talk to Percy.”
“He is my brother, and he hasn’t cut contact with me.”