‘Are you?’ Gabriel looked at her bitterly. ‘I have not received a single card or letter from any member of my family since I left. And what do you make of the fact,’ he continued remorselessly when Diana would have pointed out that his family could not have written to him when they did not know where he was, ‘that when I learnt of my father’s death six years ago, I wrote to my mother immediately, expressing my sorrow, and with the added request that I might visit her. A letter to which she did not even bother to respond.’
Diana’s heart ached at the emotion she so clearly heard in his tone. ‘That does seem damning, yes—’
‘It is no more than I might have expected,’ he rasped harshly. ‘Yet my mother’s ex-companion now requests that I hasten to visit my mother because her health is “fragile”? I think not.’
‘She also states that your mother has longed to see you for some time—’
‘Something I find extremely unlikely. Nor will she receive any forgiveness from me to ease her conscience.’
Diana eyed him compassionately. ‘It was not concern for your mother’s mortal soul I was considering when I suggested we should both go and see her.’
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. ‘What then?’
‘Your own,’ she said gently.
‘Mine?’ he barked. ‘You claimed to believe me when I told you I have done absolutely nothing for which I need feel ashamed.’
Diana had believed him. She still believed him. Indeed, this past two days in his company made her more convinced that Gabriel Faulkner was a man it was impossible not to believe when he claimed something was so! ‘Do you not see that, if your mother dies, now or some time in the future, without the two of you having reconciled, then you will be the one who is left alive to suffer the torment, possibly for the rest of your life, knowing that you could have set things right between you, but your pride would not allow you to do so?’
He stopped his pacing, his gaze suddenly shrewd as he looked down at her. ‘And is that what happened to you, Diana? Did your mother ask for your forgiveness for leaving you all and you refused her?’
Diana’s heart skipped several beats. ‘We were not discussing me or my mother—’
‘We are now,’ Gabriel cut in. ‘Tell me, did your mother come to regret leaving you all for the arms of her young lover? Did you refuse her your forgiveness?’ he persisted ruthlessly.
Diana knew that her cheeks had grown pale at the memories that assailed her of that terrible time they had all suffered after her mother had left them: her father a white and ghostly figure as he wandered from room to room in Shoreley Park, as if he might somehow find his wife in one of them if he just looked hard enough; her two sisters crying constantly at night until they fell into an exhausted sleep, only to wake again screaming or crying, and demanding to know why their mother did not come and comfort them as she’d used to do when they were beset with bad dreams.
And through it all, as Diana had done the best that she could to comfort all of them, she had felt her anger towards her mother growing for having so selfishly hurt them all, until it seemed her heart had become utterly consumed with hatred for her.
Her throat moved convulsively now as she swallowed down the bitter bile that had risen in her throat. ‘My mother never wished to return to us or ever asked for our forgiveness, so how could I have refused her?’ Her voice was flat, emotionless.
He frowned darkly. ‘Diana—’
‘If you will excuse me, my lord?’ She held her head regally high, her gaze deliberately avoiding his. ‘It is time that I go upstairs and change before dinner.’ Even if the thought of eating now made her feel ill.
She very rarely thought of her mother any more. There seemed little point.
‘You are standing in my way, my lord,’ she said stiltedly as Gabriel effectively blocked her escape by moving to stand in the open doorway of the study.
‘Will you allow me to apologise, Diana?’ Gabriel looked down at her searchingly, knowing by the pallor of her face and the haunted look in those sky-blue eyes that he had hurt her with his taunts about her mother. Even though he himself was hurting after receiving that letter concerning his own mother, it was not an acceptable reason for his having upset Diana.
He reached up to lightly clasp the tops of her bare arms. ‘I am sorry for my churlishness just now,’ he said huskily. ‘It is only—’ His mouth tightened. ‘I am sure that Alice Britton meant only to act for the best, but the past is better left alone. By both of us, it would seem,’ he added gently.
Diana raised long-lashed lids, those sky-blue eyes over-bright. With unshed tears? Had Gabriel hurt her that much? Had he really become so unfeeling this past eight years? So selfishly absorbed in his own disillusionment that he had ceased to care if, or when, he hurt others with his coldness and cynicism?
‘You are forgiven, Gabriel.’
He drew in a sharp breath at Diana’s softly spoken absolution, for once in his life not sure what to do or say next. Any more of his arrogance or sarcasm was likely to cause the glitter of tears he could see in her eyes to overflow, and yet to do anything else would be—
‘As I hope you will forgive me for my intrusion into something that is so very personal to you.’
It was too much. Diana apologising to him, when he was the one who had behaved so churlishly, was too much. He released her arms to pull her into his embrace, the top of her golden-red curls now resting under his chin and smelling of lemons. ‘I am a brute for hurting you.’
The warmth of her cheek rested against his chest. ‘I should not have attempted to interfere.’
‘No one has more right to do so,’ Gabriel grated fiercely. ‘You are to become my wife. My countess.’ And it was only now, holding her in his arms and totally aware of the vulnerability she was usually at such pains to hide behind that veneer of practicality and determination, that he realised the enormity of what his betrothal to this woman meant.
He had renewed his offer of marriage in the belief it was to be an arrangement of mutual expediency, she needing a sop to her injured pride following her young man’s defection, and he needing a suitable wife to act as mistress in his homes and provide the necessary heirs. All well and good.
Except he had not expected to actually like the woman whom he married. Or to desire her to the extent that holding her in his arms again like this was a physical torture. But as Gabriel refused to run the risk of his heir perhaps making his appearance only seven or eight months after the wedding and therefore causing even more unwanted gossip for them both, he knew he’d have to continue to suffer the torture a little longer unless he removed the temptation.
He took a firm hold of her arms and moved her away from him, dark eyes hooded by lowered lids as he looked down at her. ‘As you say, it is time we both went upstairs and changed for dinner.’
Diana blinked up at him, momentarily stunned by the sudden return of his previous coldness. But what had she expected? That talking of their mutual hurt at their mothers’ hands would somehow forge a bond between the two of them? That it would bring about an understanding between them, a closeness that would make their betrothal seem less daunting to her?
If that had indeed been her hope, then one glance at his haughtily remote expression, at the coolness in those dark blue eyes as he looked down at her, was enough to tell her that such a warmth of understanding did not, and never would, or could, exist between them.
Her own expression was as proudly distant as she gave a stiff inclination of her head. ‘Until dinner then, my lo—’ Diana broke off abruptly, startled into silence as she heard the sound of voices raised outside in the hallway. ‘What on earth…?’
‘Indeed.’ Gabriel’s expression was suddenly tense as he heard the commotion.
She frowned. ‘Perhaps we should go and see what is wrong?’
‘Perhaps we should.’ He brushed lightly past her to walk swiftly in the direction of those raised voices.
Diana almost had to run to catch up with those
long strides, so intent on doing so that she almost crashed into his broadly muscled back as he came to a sudden halt in front of her to stare across the wide hallway to where there were three people standing in the open doorway.
The butler, Soames.
A tall and handsome dark-haired man, with icy grey eyes and a livid scar down his left cheek that did nothing to detract from that handsomeness, but instead gave him an almost dangerous air.
And standing beside him, her beautiful face animated, was Diana’s sister Caroline…
Chapter Five
If there had been any doubts in Gabriel’s mind as to the identity of the young woman who stood beside his friend Dominic Vaughn, the Earl of Blackstone, then they were instantly dispelled as Diana gave a choked sob before moving past him to run quickly across the hallway on slippered feet.
She threw herself into the other woman’s arms with a loud cry of ‘Caroline!’, her joy obvious as she began to both laugh and cry at the same time.
Caroline joined in as they held each other tightly, causing Gabriel and Blackstone to exchange a look that involved raised eyebrows and wry smiles, before Gabriel then turned his attention back to studying Lady Caroline Copeland. Seeing how his friend looked at her, no doubt she was none other than “Miss Morton”—the same young woman who until a few days ago had been singing in Dominic’s gambling club wearing a jewelled mask and ebony wig in order to disguise her appearance! He’d started to suspect the truth after learning the Copelands’ butler’s name was Morton—truly no coincidence.
Slender and elegant in a gown of sea-green beneath her grey cloak, Caroline Copeland’s hair was pure golden rather than the reddish-gold of Diana’s, her eyes that same beguiling sea-green as her gown, her complexion alabaster, her pointed chin bearing the determination of her older sister.
A determination that, in Caroline’s case at least, had led to her both risking her reputation and putting herself in danger rather than ever marry Lord Gabriel Faulkner, he thought bleakly. His reputation had much to answer for.
‘How good it is to see you back in England at last, Westbourne!’ Dominic Vaughn came forwards to grasp the other man’s hand. ‘Not now, Gabe,’ he bent forwards to murmur softly to his friend before stepping back, the brightness of his smile lending his usually austere features a boyishness that Gabriel had not seen in him for some years. ‘We travelled all the way to Shoreley Park in order to see you, only to arrive and find that you had not gone there, after all.’
‘You have come from Shoreley Park, then?’
Gabriel turned to see a somewhat bewildered Diana standing beside her sister, their arms about each other’s waists as Diana stared across at the two men. Just as she no doubt wondered what Caroline was doing in the company of such a dangerous-looking man. Injured in the Battle of Waterloo, Dominic Vaughn had a scar the length of his left cheek, from his eye down to his arrogant jaw line. A scar that gave him a somewhat sinister appearance.
Gabriel turned to the stony-faced butler. ‘Bring tea for the ladies and brandy for the gentlemen to the study, if you please, Soames.’
‘Very well, my lord.’ The elderly man bowed stiffly before leaving, giving no indication, by word or demeanour, that he had moments ago been involved in a verbal exchange with a man and woman who were obviously known to his employer.
‘What—?’
‘We will wait until we are in the study to talk further, Diana,’ Gabriel instructed before standing back to allow the ladies to precede them, his bride-to-be obviously still dazed by the sudden and unexpected appearance of her sister in the company of Dominic Vaughn and Caroline eyeing Gabriel somewhat challengingly as she walked at her sister’s side.
‘You are going to have your work cut out with that one, Dom,’ he murmured drily to his friend as the two of them fell into step behind the women.
Dominic gave him an unconcerned smile. ‘It already is.’ He sobered slightly. ‘You intend to give us your blessing, then, Gabe?’
‘From the little I have already learnt of this business from Nathaniel, I believe I had better!’ He gave a rueful shake of his head as he followed the ladies into the study.
As expected, Diana instantly demanded to know how and why her sister came to be here at all, let alone accompanied by a man such as the Earl of Blackstone.
What followed, once Soames had delivered the requested tea and brandy, was almost certainly a truncated version of what Lady Caroline Copeland had been up to since her arrival in London, totally for Diana’s benefit, so she need not worry about the potential risks to her sister’s reputation, and also to place Dominic in the most positive light possible.
‘It seems I have you to thank for my sister’s safe delivery back to her family, my lord.’ Diana’s gratitude to Dominic for ensuring her sister’s safety since her arrival in London was tinged with concern. That he had been a close friend of Gabriel’s for some years had been made obvious to her during this past conversation, but grateful as Diana was to have Caroline restored to her, she could not help but think her sister travelling about the countryside in the company of such a man as the earl was highly improper.
She turned to Caroline. ‘Why did Elizabeth not travel back with you?’
Her sister looked surprised. ‘With me? But I assumed she had travelled up to London with you and Aunt Humphries.’
Diana’s trepidation grew. ‘She left Shoreley Park two days after you did.’ Caroline’s face paled.
‘You mean she may have been in London alone these past weeks? Dominic!’ Her expression was slightly panicked as she turned to grasp the arm of the stern-faced Earl of Blackstone.
Diana was no less concerned at having her worst fear confirmed—that Elizabeth and Caroline had not, as she had hoped, arranged to meet up in London…
‘One of your sisters has been returned to you unharmed, my dear; there is every reason to believe the same will prove true regarding your other sister.’
Diana barely heard Gabriel’s words of comfort as he walked into her bedchamber uninvited when she had not responded to his brief knock upon the door.
The initial shock of realising that Elizabeth was still missing had resulted in there being more questions than answers. The hour becoming late, Gabriel had suggested that Lord Vaughn also stay here for the night at least, and that Caroline’s and the earl’s luggage be taken upstairs, so that they might all retire and change for dinner before resuming the conversation.
Except Diana had been too upset to do more than collapse upon her bed once she’d reached her bedchamber.
She now sat in a ball of misery on the side of that bed, her eyes red and sore from crying, her cheeks still damp with those tears as she looked up at Gabriel. ‘I would not call finding Caroline alone in the company of such a man as Dominic Vaughn having her returned to me unharmed.’
Gabriel stiffened. ‘Blackstone has been one of my closest friends since childhood. Moreover, he is a man I would trust with my life. In fact, I believe I have done so on several occasions.’
Diana gave a despairing shake of her head. ‘Caroline is but twenty years old—’
‘Blackstone is only eight and twenty—’
‘In years, perhaps. But anyone looking at him could see that in experience and worldliness he is a man of much greater years.’ She gave a delicate shudder. ‘That he is—’
‘Have a care, Diana.’ Gabriel eyed her icily now. ‘After you and your sister had left the study earlier, Blackstone formally offered for Caroline and I have given them my blessing.’
Diana stood up abruptly, her eyes wide with shock. ‘You cannot be serious!’
He nodded. ‘Completely.’
‘But—’
‘Do not be naïve, Diana, one need only look at the two of them together to see how things stand between them.’
Yes, Diana had felt the undercurrents of heated awareness between her sister and the Earl of Blackstone. Felt them, and at the same time feared for her impetuous sister. ‘Caroline has led such a she
ltered life—’
‘Diana.’ Just her name, but spoken in such a reproving tone that it would be unwise to ignore it.
Except she was feeling less than wise at this moment! ‘Caroline has always been strong-willed and headstrong, but in this instance she cannot possibly be sure of her feelings. She and the earl haven’t known each other for that long—’
‘And we had known each other for less than a day when you accepted my own offer of marriage,’ he pointed out.
‘That is not the same at all!’ she said impatiently. ‘You know as well as I that the only reason I accepted your offer of marriage was so that neither of my sisters need do so.’
Yes, Gabriel knew of Diana’s reasons for accepting him. But knowing them and having Diana state them so bluntly were two entirely different things…
Something she also became aware of as she glanced across at him almost guiltily. ‘I did not mean to imply—’
‘I am well aware of what you meant, Diana,’ Gabriel said frostily. ‘But our own reasons for marrying should not reflect on Dominic and Caroline. Whether you like or approve of the match, they are in love with each other and intend to marry.’
And Gabriel’s own opinion hadn’t mattered either! His conversation with his friend, once the two ladies had retired to their bedchambers, had been brief and to the point; Dominic intended to marry Caroline Copeland as soon as it could be arranged for them to do so. His gruff advice that Gabriel not object to the match or the swiftness of the upcoming nuptials had been enough of an indication to him as to the intimacy of their relationship.
Although Gabriel doubted Diana would welcome hearing of that…‘I had the impression during our conversations about your sisters that you wished only for them to be free to choose who they fell in love with?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’
‘But you do not accept, because they have not been long acquainted, that Caroline is as deeply in love with Dominic as he is with her?’
Did Diana accept that? Caroline had always been the most stubborn and rebellious of the three sisters, the one always caught out in some mischief or another when they were growing up. Never seeming afraid of seeing a notion through once she had set her mind on it—Caroline’s flight to London two-and-a-half weeks ago was evidence of that!
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