The Lady Forfeits

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘I live in the hopes that you may eventually do so!’ Her eyes sparkled up at him mischievously.

  He found himself returning the warmth of her smile. That smile fading again as he grimly considered the task in front of him. ‘As you suggest, I will visit my mother now and leave you to change for dinner.’

  Diana had not even realised she had stopped breathing until Gabriel left the bedchamber and she felt that breath released in a shaky sigh. Simply because he had taken her hand in his and kissed it? Ridiculous. Dozens of men, young as well as old, had kissed her hand in the past—but it had always been the back of her hand, never her palm…

  There had been an unmistakable intimacy in Gabriel having placed that kiss in her palm before then folding her fingers about it. Diana could still feel the warmth of his lips through the lace of her glove. She was just so totally aware of everything about him, from his dishevelled black hair to his rain-spattered Hessians. There was no doubting that, perfectly groomed and tailored, Gabriel was one of the most devilishly handsome men she had ever met. But he was even more so slightly dishevelled and less than his usual arrogant and assured self.

  None of which was in the least relevant to their present dilemma! Well…it was mostly Gabriel’s dilemma, Diana admitted, but one to which she had assured him she had no intentions of abandoning him.

  Alice Britton’s concerns for Felicity Faulkner, for the strangeness of the situation here, had, Diana considered, been completely justified. There was indeed something bizarre about this household.

  ‘Gabriel?’

  Having only seconds ago entered his bedchamber, Gabriel now looked up to see Diana standing in the open doorway between their two rooms, the heavy weight he felt pressing down upon him momentarily dissipating as he took in the beauty of her appearance.

  As she had intended, she had obviously taken advantage of his hour’s absence in which to wash and change before dinner, her cream silk-and-lace gown perfectly complimenting the magnolia of her skin, her eyes a clear blue, her lips a full and strawberry blush, and her red-gold curls kept in place by two pearl-encrusted combs.

  The picture she looked was breathtakingly beautiful.

  His expression softened somewhat. ‘You look…very lovely, Diana.’

  ‘As intended.’ Her manner was brisk as she stepped into his bedchamber. ‘How was your mother?’

  Gabriel sobered instantly. ‘It is difficult to tell when she remained asleep the whole time I was in the room.’ Nevertheless, he had been shocked at how much older his mother looked; her face was much thinner and paler than it used to be, and there was an abundance of grey amongst the darkness of her hair as it lay in loose curls about her shoulders.

  Diana frowned. ‘She was not aware of your presence at all?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you attempt to make her aware?’

  ‘Of course I did!’ Gabriel said. ‘I both held my mother’s hand and talked to her, but she remained completely oblivious to my presence.’

  Diana could see by the harshness of his expression how much it pained him to admit it. No doubt, having prepared himself for the meeting, it had been something of a disappointment that she had not even woken long enough to acknowledge that her only son was in the room with her.

  She moved forwards to place her hand lightly on his jacket-clad arm, at once able to feel his tension beneath her fingertips. ‘No doubt you will have better luck in the morning.’

  ‘Let us hope so.’ In truth, he had been very disturbed by his mother’s condition and wished he had not remained away as long as he had. A fact he must needs relay to Alice Britton at the earliest opportunity, along with his apology for having written back to her so tersely two days ago. If anything, his mother’s old companion had understated the situation that existed here, so much so that Gabriel felt inclined to remove his mother as soon as she felt well enough to travel. Always supposing that Felicity would agree to leave with him, that was…

  ‘I am sure, when she wakes, that your mother will be overjoyed to see you again, Gabriel,’ Diana said, smiling at him encouragingly.

  His answering smile was less assured. ‘Let us hope so.’

  ‘Were you and your mother close once?’

  ‘Very.’ Gabriel’s father had already been aged one and thirty when he and the twenty-year-old Felicity had married thirty years ago. He’d been a man very set in his ways and not inclined to visit the nursery much after his son was born. He’d only really taken an interest in Gabriel once he reached an age where it was possible to put him up on a horse or teach him how to shoot a gun.

  Not so Gabriel’s mother, who had spent much of her day in the nursery with her only child. Consequently, Gabriel’s relationship with his mother had always been that much closer; to now see her looking old and frail was hard indeed for him to bear.

  Diana nodded. ‘Then I cannot doubt you will become so again.’

  Gabriel eyed her ruefully. ‘It is as well that one of us is an optimist.’

  ‘Not only that, but I have laid your evening clothes out ready on the bed for you!’

  Gabriel turned to look at where his evening clothes were indeed laid out ready for him to change into once he had washed and tidied his appearance.

  ‘I felt it was the least I could do considering I am the one responsible for depriving you of your valet.’ Her smile became impish.

  He eyed her quizzically after noting that even his shirt studs lay neatly beside his necktie. ‘Most women would have no idea what was required.’

  Her expression saddened. ‘My father decided to dispense with the services of his valet two years before he died, so it was left to me to see that he did not appear downstairs every morning and evening dressed in his nightclothes.’

  Gabriel frowned as she avoided meeting his searching gaze by removing her hand from his arm to turn away and look out of the window. She was so young to have needed to take upon her own shoulders the responsibility of her increasingly reclusive father and two younger, impulsive sisters. Even so, he could detect no resentment towards her family in her tone or expression—only love and acceptance.

  Diana was like no other woman Gabriel had ever met.

  Like no other woman he was ever likely to meet.

  And she was very shortly to become his wife.

  He seriously doubted that he was deserving of such luck, considering the haphazard way in which he had chosen that wife. He would be nothing but a fool if he were to take that luck for granted.

  Gabriel looked admiringly at the fragile arch of Diana’s nape. The softness of the hair that fell in enticing curls against her skin. The creamy softness of her shoulders and arms revealed by the wide neckline and short sleeves of her cream-silk gown. The delicate length of her spine. The implied curves of her body beneath the drape of that silk.

  And he knew that he no longer cared about where they were and why they were here.

  He wanted—no, needed—this connection with Diana like he’d never needed anything before in his life.

  Chapter Ten

  From the weighty and lengthy silence behind her, Diana believed that she had somehow displeased Gabriel. By putting his evening clothes out ready for him to change into once he returned from visiting his mother? Or perhaps she was mistaken, and it was not she who had displeased him, but the unsatisfactory visit to his mother that still troubled him?

  ‘My lord—oh!’ She came to a startled halt as she turned to find him standing just behind her.

  So close she could now feel the heat of his body through the thin material of her gown. So close that as she slowly raised her gaze to look at him, she could see the black ring that encircled the dark indigo of his eyes, giving them the appearance of that intriguing and mesmerising midnight-blue.

  Her own eyes dropped from the intensity of his stare, only to come to rest on the sensual curve of his mouth, firm and sculptured lips that she knew would feel soft and compelling against her own.

  She suddenly pulled hersel
f up short. These were not thoughts, memories, she should be having when they were alone together in his bedchamber!

  ‘Diana?’

  She raised heavy lids as a quiver of awareness ran the length of her spine at the husky compulsion in his tone. It seemed she had been mistaken, that Gabriel was not displeased with her at all, that his emotions were something else entirely…

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue before attempting to speak. ‘It really is time you considered changing for dinner.’

  His own lids dropped, the expression in his eyes hidden by long, dark lashes. ‘Gladly—if you would care to continue to act as my valet?’

  She swallowed hard, her mouth having suddenly become dry as even the air seemed filled with heated expectation. ‘Of course I will help if you feel it necessary.’

  He smiled slightly. ‘Not necessary, exactly, but I believe we might perhaps enjoy the intimacy?’

  Betraying heat suffused her body as she responded to the lazy sensuality in Gabriel’s voice. Everything else, everyone else, receded to the back of her mind, as she could see and feel only him. ‘If you would care to turn around?’

  He held her gaze with his own for long, timeless seconds before he gave the slightest of nods and turned the broad width of his back towards her. Something, she believed, that he did not choose to do with many people…

  Gabriel could feel how Diana’s hands trembled slightly as she raised them to the neckline of his jacket, her fingers lightly brushing against the soft darkness of his hair as it curled on to the high collar, causing him to almost groan in response.

  The visit to his mother’s bedchamber had been totally unproductive: he had not so much as been able to speak with her, let alone gauge how she felt about him being here. Returning to find Diana waiting for him had filled him with a strange and unfamiliar feeling of gladness. Of unaccustomed warmth.

  It was the oddest sensation for a man who had spent the past eight years coldly shunning friends as well as enemies.

  Gabriel was so much taller than Diana that it was not easy to slide the perfectly tailored jacket from his shoulders and down the length of his arms. She was very aware of everything about him as she inadvertently touched the width of his shoulders, his muscled arms and finally the bare skin of his long and elegant hands.

  She felt decidedly hot—and very bothered—by the time he turned to face her, obviously intending her to now unbutton his waistcoat. Evidence, if she should need it, that this had very little to do with her acting as his valet and everything to do with the intimacy he had mentioned earlier.

  She was so aware of his gaze upon her that she fumbled slightly with unfastening the buttons on the silver-brocade waistcoat, her fingers coming into contact with his shirt-covered chest as she slipped this garment down his arms before discarding it on .to the bed beside his jacket.

  She hesitated, then asked, ‘Would you like me to remove your necktie and shirt, too, or do wish to do that for yourself?’

  ‘Which would you prefer?’ he growled softly.

  Diana’s heart leapt in her chest at the mere thought of unbuttoning and removing his shirt and, in doing so, laying bare the wide expanse of firm and muscled flesh beneath. Her gaze flickered up before as quickly moving away again as she saw how focused his own gaze was on the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. ‘Is this altogether wise, Gabriel?’ she murmured huskily.

  ‘Does everything between us have to be wise?’ he countered.

  She raised startled lids. ‘We will be expected downstairs for dinner shortly.’

  ‘It is not my dinner for which I feel hungry.’ There was an incredible heat in his gaze as he continued to look down at her.

  Diana found she could no longer look away from the intensity of those dark and compelling eyes, instead becoming lost in the warm invitation he made no effort to hide. Despite all the recent conflict, they had found a closeness here at Faulkner Manor that was very precious. Alone in his bedchamber there existed only the two of them, so close, so very aware of each other.

  Assisting him to undress did not feel at all like it did when she helped her father—

  ‘I would hope not.’

  ‘Surely I did not say that aloud?’ Hot colour suffused her cheeks as he teasingly answered the comment she had believed existed only inside her head, but which she had obviously voiced aloud.

  ‘You did,’ he confirmed, liking those bright wings of colour in her cheeks, her eyes a bright and sparkling blue as she looked up at him. ‘How does it feel then, Diana?’ he asked gruffly.

  ‘I—different. So very different.’ Her voice was soft and breathy and almost made him shiver in response.

  ‘But not unpleasant?’ he pressed.

  ‘I—no, not at all.’

  ‘Then I see no reason why we should not continue…’ Gabriel reached out to take both of her hands before lifting them and placing them flat against his shirt-covered chest.

  Touching him, able to feel the muscled hardness of his chest through the fine silk material of his shirt, the firm beating of his heart and his warmth, Diana saw every reason why they should not continue.

  And every reason why they should!

  Her trembling fingers moved to unfasten the meticulous knot of his necktie before placing it on the bed with his jacket and waistcoat, aware of his intense regard as she slowly released the four buttons at the throat of his silk shirt.

  The two sides of the shirt fell apart to reveal that the skin beneath was indeed firm and lightly tanned; there was a light dusting of dark hair upon his chest.

  ‘Would you scream in protest if I were to remove my travel-worn shirt completely?’

  Diana raised blonde brows. ‘I never scream, my lord.’

  There were several scenarios in which Gabriel could imagine that she might—scenarios in which his lips and hands were upon the most intimate parts of her body.

  He reached up to pull the shirt over his head before discarding it untidily to the floor. ‘Leave it,’ he instructed as she would have picked it up. ‘For God’s sake, Diana, would you just touch me?’ His jaw was tightly clenched as he steeled himself for the first sensation of those slender fingers upon his naked flesh.

  He watched as the moist tip of her tongue moved nervously across her lips even as she raised those hands and placed her fingers lightly against his skin, hesitantly at first, and then more assuredly as she slowly traced the firm contours of his chest. Gabriel sucked in his breath and held it there as her fingernails scraped lightly across the hardened nubs nestled amongst the dark dusting of hair.

  Diana stilled, eyes wide as she looked up at him. ‘You seem to like that as much as—’ She broke off with a self-conscious gasp.

  ‘As you did?’ Gabriel finished throatily. ‘Oh, yes!’

  ‘I had no idea.’ She touched him again, delight now warming her cheeks as she saw the way those hard nubbins became harder in response, the tension in his shoulders and clenched hands also revealing the intense pleasure he felt from the caress of her fingertips.

  As a child Diana had used to love sitting in her father’s library, looking through the hundreds of books he had there, and Gabriel’s wide and muscled chest, the flat contours of his stomach, were so very much like the drawings of the Greek gods in one of those books.

  It was also exhilarating, she discovered, to be able to return some of the pleasure she’d experienced when Gabriel touched her and placed his mouth on her. Ah, yes…

  ‘Diana, what are you doing?’

  Her lips and tongue were now against the tautness of Gabriel’s flesh, her mouth curving into a smile of satisfaction at she both heard and felt his arousal. She glanced up at him beneath lowered lashes, noting the tension in his jaw and the nerve pulsing in his throat. ‘Do you wish me to stop?’

  ‘Dear God, no!’ he groaned and one of his hands moved up to become entangled in the curls at her nape as he held her to him.

  She needed no further invitation to continue to place ope
n-mouthed kisses on his chest even as her hands moved lower, lightly caressing the muscled flatness of his stomach above the hardness of his arousal pressing against his pantaloons.

  It surprised her that there was an answering warmth between her own thighs, her breasts becoming full and aching, the hardened tips chafing against the soft material of her shift.

  It was a revelation to Diana that she received as much satisfaction in giving Gabriel physical pleasure as she did in receiving it—

  ‘You might have considered locking the bedchamber door if you had intended bedding your future wife, Gabriel!’ There was absolutely no apology in the scornful voice that sliced coldly through their intimacy.

  Diana had sprung guiltily away from Gabriel at the first sound of that horribly familiar voice, her face paling as she saw Jennifer Prescott standing in the doorway that adjoined the two bedchambers. Humiliated colour brightened Diana’s cheeks as the other woman looked across at her in utter contempt. ‘And perhaps you should have considered knocking before entering,’ Gabriel rasped into the chilling silence, Diana able to feel the blazing heat of his body against her spine as he held her firmly in front of him.

  His aunt’s mouth sneered at them. ‘You may rest assured I will make a point of doing so in future.’

  ‘A better idea would be for you not to come to either of these bedchambers again whilst Diana and I are staying here,’ Gabriel bit out. ‘Now that you are here, perhaps you might like to tell us what it is you wanted?’

  ‘You had been up here so long I thought it best to come and tell you both that dinner is ready to be served.’

  ‘I had no idea that Faulkner Manor was so depleted of servants that you needed to behave as one yourself,’ he jeered.

  Jennifer gasped in outrage. ‘You are so insulting, Gabriel!’

  ‘I have not even begun to be insulting as yet,’ he drawled.