How to Catch an Errant Earl

by Amy Rose Bennett

  “Oh, Charlie . . .” Arabella sighed and shook her head. “You see right through me.”

  “We did share a room together at Mrs. Rathbone’s Academy. Come . . .” She linked her arm through Arabella’s. “Let’s take a turn about the garden and you can confess everything to me. You know I’ll be the soul of discretion.”

  Arabella was aware Gabriel tracked her progress as she and Charlie crossed the terrace and descended the steps to the gravel path that meandered through the walled garden. His expression was mildly curious and pensive at the same time. Arabella was grateful that he didn’t follow.

  When they were well out of earshot of everyone, Charlie paused beneath the boughs of an enormous horse chestnut tree. “Now out with it, Arabella,” she said as she took a seat on a stone bench and Arabella did the same. “Has Gabriel done something to hurt you? Because if he has—”

  Arabella shook her head. “Not really. I’m afraid it’s rather more complicated than that. Although we’ve been pretending otherwise, Gabriel and I, we are not a love match.” Her chest rose and fell with a despondent sigh. “Perhaps I should start from the beginning.” And then she told Charlie everything. She described exactly how she and Gabriel met and how he compromised her, although she’d been a very willing participant. How Gabriel had done the honorable thing and proposed to her to avoid a scandal. And the terms they’d both agreed to once they’d wed—that they’d only try for a child when Gabriel’s title was secure—Charlie had clearly been shocked to hear Gabriel’s cousin would try to claim the earldom for himself. And then Arabella confessed that because Gabriel couldn’t promise fidelity, she’d added further caveats that curtailed him from having a physical relationship with not only her, but anyone at all.

  “Hmmm.” Charlie gave Arabella a considering look once she’d finished her story. “So just to be clear, you’re telling me that since you consummated your marriage, nearly three weeks ago, you and Gabriel haven’t been intimate? At all?”

  Arabella shook her head. “No. We haven’t even kissed.”

  “My goodness.” Charlie glanced toward the terrace where Gabriel was talking to her brother, then met Arabella’s gaze again. “I understand you’re risking your heart by inviting Gabriel into your bed, but . . . but aren’t you at all tempted to . . . I mean, Gabriel is . . .” Charlie blushed then, and she was not one to blush easily. “By all accounts, Gabriel is a wonderful lover. Indeed, the whole of London knows it. I imagine it’s been very difficult for both of you, not to give into desire. I honestly don’t know how you have the strength to deny him.”

  It was Arabella’s turn to blush. “He is . . . wonderful.” She bit her lip as tears brimmed. “Oh, Charlie, I feel like I’m going about this the wrong way. And the worst part is, it seems I’ve fallen in love with him anyway, despite my best efforts not to. But he doesn’t love me. At least he doesn’t think he ever will. And he’s also told me countless times he doesn’t believe he can be faithful. And I don’t think I can bear it.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “I wish I knew how to make my husband fall in love with me.”

  Charlie squeezed her hand. “Oh, Arabella, are you sure he doesn’t care for you? I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He can’t take his eyes off you. While we’ve been sitting here, he keeps glancing over to you. When you speak, he hangs on your every word. I don’t know Gabriel that well, but I’ve never seen him behave that way around other women before.”

  Arabella shook her head, unconvinced. “It sounds like you are talking about Sophie and Nate, not Gabriel and me.” And then she recalled Gabriel’s sketchbook. He did seem to like looking at her . . .

  Charlie smoothed a curl away from Arabella’s cheek. “Having a brother like Nate, I do believe I have a little insight into the male mind. One thing I’ve learned is that men are physical creatures, driven by strong primal urges, and I think pushing Gabriel away is the worst thing you can do. Give a little, it might give Gabriel the nudge he needs to realize that what he shares with you is more than just base lust. I watched Nate falling in love with Sophie, even though he’d convinced himself he never could do such a thing, and that was partly due to the fact she took the initiative. She wooed him. She told me that as they became more physically intimate, she sensed Nate was opening his heart. It will take time, but keeping your husband at arm’s length, I don’t think that will help.”

  Arabella’s gaze wandered to Gabriel. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.

  Charlie’s smile was gentle. “He probably is too. But I think it would be foolish of you to let fear stop you from going after what you really want. You already love him, so what have you got to lose?”

  * * *

  * * *

  Gabriel watched Charlie conversing with Arabella. Even though they were some distance away and in dappled shadow from the horse chestnut canopy, he got the distinct impression that whatever they spoke about was serious; Arabella’s expression was grave, perhaps even desolate, and her slim figure radiated tension, even when Charlie slipped her arm around Arabella’s shoulders and gave her a hug.

  Uneasiness stirred and he frowned. His wife was unhappy on their wedding day, and he suspected—no, he knew that he was to blame.

  As soon as Charlie left Arabella’s side and returned to the terrace, Gabriel excused himself from his conversation with Max, Nate, and Sophie and sought out his wife. He needed to make amends.

  “Why are you over here on your own, Bella?” he asked gently as he approached.

  She gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m a wee bit tired. That’s all.”

  “I’m afraid that’s my fault,” he said as he flipped out his coattails and took a seat on the bench beside her. He studied her lovely hazel eyes. The breeze stirred the leaves of the horse chestnut, highlighting the flecks of green and gold in her irises. “Is something else the matter though? You don’t seem yourself.”

  A short laugh that contained no mirth at all escaped her. “That’s exactly what Charlie said.” Her gaze fell to the gravel at their feet and Gabriel frowned. Was that the glimmer of tears he saw on the tips of her golden brown lashes? Or was it a trick of the light?

  He imbued his voice with every ounce of sincerity that he could. “The fact that I visited the Pandora Club and got horribly drunk last night has upset you, hasn’t it? You can be honest with me, Bella.”

  Her gaze whipped up to his again. Her expression had turned indignant. “It’s not just that. I’m upset that you’ve been avoiding me. I don’t want to sound needy or come across as a managing female, but last night, I was worried sick about you. I had no idea where you were. Or who you were with. You told me you didn’t bed a prostitute at that club, and for reasons I can’t quite explain, I do believe you on that score. All the same, I waited alone in the dining room for you . . . for hours . . . and then I couldn’t sleep.” She shook her head and looked away. “It was humiliating. And distressing.”

  Guilt plunged through Gabriel’s gut like a knife. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I’ve been utterly thoughtless and selfish.”

  Arabella didn’t disagree with him. “And this morning, I wanted to thank you for the stéthoscope and the money for my charities. I’ve never received gifts quite so wonderful or thoughtful in my entire life. But when I did see you, we barely exchanged two words. You seemed far too busy. I don’t expect us to live in each other’s pockets, but last night and this morning, I felt like an afterthought.”

  Another stab of guilt sliced through Gabriel. “Again my fault,” he said softly. “I went for a ride to clear my head, and then I had to see my man of affairs and my solicitor about some pressing business matters.” Threading his fingers through Arabella’s, he raised her hand to his lips. “I sincerely apologize for upsetting you so much, and I’ll endeavor to keep you abreast of my movements in the future.” />
  “Thank you.” Arabella squeezed his hand. This time when she smiled, it reached her eyes. “Your apology is accepted and all is forgiven.”

  Gabriel breathed an inward sigh of relief and smiled back. He was suddenly struck by something significant Arabella had revealed. “So you were worried about me?” he asked in a low voice meant to stir her.

  Arabella’s gaze dipped to their hands; their fingers were still entwined. “Yes . . .”

  A strange warmth suffused Gabriel’s chest. “I suppose this is the first time that I’ve had to account for my whereabouts. It’s never really mattered to anyone until now. I must confess, it is a novel concept, Bella.”

  “Oh . . . how dreadful,” she said softly. “That no one would care.” Her eyes were filled with compassion. “I’ve been thinking . . . about tonight. It is technically our wedding night and—”

  Gabriel frowned. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll respect your wishes.”

  “Thank you, but I . . .” Bright color flooded Arabella’s cheeks. “How shall I put this . . . ? The distance between us, I don’t like it, Gabriel. And on today of all days. I was wondering . . . I mean . . . I don’t know how to say it.” Her blush deepened as her eyes locked with his. “I’ll permit kisses.”

  Gabriel’s blood surged. “Kisses. I like the sound of that. Very much, Bella. May I have one now?”

  She swallowed nervously. “You want to kiss me . . . in front of everyone?” Her gaze darted to the terrace before returning to his face.

  “Why not?” He shrugged a shoulder and offered her a crooked, thoroughly wicked smile. “We are married. Twice over in fact. I think it’s allowed. And no one will mind.” He trained all his attention on her pretty, entirely delectable mouth. “It will keep me sustained until later when our guests are all gone.”

  “Very well,” she whispered.

  Gabriel lifted a hand and cradled Arabella’s face as though it were a precious, delicate bloom. This was the first time in weeks that she’d invited him to taste her sweeter-than-honey mouth, and he didn’t want to frighten her with the strength of his ardor. Or waste the opportunity to fan the flames of her own desire. Anticipation spiraling through him, Gabriel’s heart galloped crazily as he ever so slowly leaned in for the kiss. His strategy of teasing her with heavy looks, fleeting touches, and glimpses of his physique had definitely wreaked havoc on his own equilibrium, if not hers.

  As his mouth roved over Arabella’s, he endeavored to rein in his passion and keep the kiss gentle and light. But it seemed he fought a losing battle. Her scent—roses and something deliciously feminine—teased his senses, sharpening his lust, and despite his best efforts to remain in control, the kiss deepened. When Arabella’s lips parted so he could delve inside and taste her thoroughly, he couldn’t stifle a groan. His cock twitched, his body burned, and an unfamiliar ache akin to yearning took up residence in his chest.

  Arabella’s warmth, her sweetness, her enthusiastic surrender were headier than the champagne he’d been quaffing all afternoon.

  Christ, he needed this woman with an intensity that shook him to his very core. How he’d gone this long without having her in every conceivable way, he couldn’t fathom at all. He hoped this was but the first step in enticing Arabella back to his bed. Because he wouldn’t truly be satisfied until he was buried deep inside her and she was crying his name to the heavens.

  * * *

  * * *

  Thank goodness it was all over.

  Alone in her bedroom at long last, Arabella kicked off her gold slippers and took a seat at her satinwood dressing table. She began to remove the strands of seed pearls from her hair. Talking to Charlie about her troubles had certainly helped to ease her mind. Hearing Nate had taken a little while to realize he’d fallen in love with Sophie gave Arabella a small glimmer of hope that perhaps, in time, Gabriel might come to care for her. And then maybe he wouldn’t stray and break her heart.

  Touching her fingers to her lips, Arabella revisited their kiss in the garden. Her mouth curved in a smile. It had been lovely. Wonderful in fact. And heaven help her, she wanted more. She wanted her husband’s lips on hers and his tongue in her mouth. His fingers to caress her skin . . .

  She was so confused. Should she reveal how she felt? That she had fallen in love? She didn’t want to come across as needy and desperate, because that might drive Gabriel away too. No, she couldn’t afford to let him see how she really felt, not until she was sure he was beginning to care for her. He had seemed genuinely touched when she let slip that she’d been worried about him . . .

  With a heavy sigh, she raised her hands to her neck to unclasp the necklace. Charlie was right. One thing was certain, she couldn’t keep pushing Gabriel away. Because then he would look elsewhere.

  “Can I help you with that, sweetheart?”

  Arabella looked up. In the reflection of the dressing table mirror, she could see Gabriel lounging against the doorframe, a seductive smile on his lips. He’d discarded his coat and waistcoat and was in the process of rolling up his sleeves to reveal his well-muscled forearms with their dusting of fine black hairs; he had such beautiful, masculine hands. “Yes. You may.”

  “No lady’s maid yet?” he asked, pushing away from the doorjamb.

  “No, unfortunately. Mrs. Mayberry said she would begin interviews tomorrow.”

  “Very good.” His long fingers caressed her nape as he reached for the clasp of the necklace. “It pleases me greatly to see you wearing my wedding gift.”

  Could he see the gooseflesh pebbling her skin and the wild flutter of her pulse in her neck? “I enjoy wearing it,” she murmured, aiming for an unaffected tone but failing dismally. Her voice was noticeably husky. “I feel very spoiled.”

  “And so you should be. You deserve nothing but the best, Bella.”

  Arabella focused her attention on removing Lady Chelmsford’s pearl brooch and quizzing glass from her bodice. She was suddenly so self-conscious, and so acutely aware of Gabriel—the heat of his fingers, the sound of his breathing, the scent of his sandalwood-laced cologne—she didn’t know where to look, or how to act. No doubt he’d come to collect more kisses. The thought made her dizzy with desire. She was a hopeless case indeed.

  Gabriel began to remove the pins from her elaborate coiffure. “What are your plans for tomorrow, sweetheart?” he asked as her curls started to fall about her shoulders. “Aside from finding a lady’s maid.”

  “I . . . ah . . . Lady Chelmsford would like to talk more to me about my interest in philanthropy. About my plans to establish an orphanage one day. She’s a member of the Mayfair Bluestocking Society and they . . .” She lost her train of thought and closed her eyes as Gabriel’s fingers threaded through the tumbling tresses at the back of her head and he began to massage her scalp. If she were a cat, she would have purred. “Heavens, that feels good . . .”

  She felt rather than heard Gabriel chuckle. Her hair was pushed to the side and he rained a trail of hot kisses across her shoulder. Arabella’s toes curled in her silk stockings, and she clutched the polished wood tabletop before her.

  “And how does that feel, pet?” he purred. As he spoke, his lips caressed her skin, making her shiver with anticipation all the more.

  “I think you know.” Looking up, her gaze locked with his in the mirror.

  His smile was pure sin right before he gently tugged on her earlobe with his teeth.

  “I said kisses not bites were permitted,” she whispered.

  “Well then . . .” Gabriel feathered a kiss across the top of her ear, then her temple. “Kisses alone it will be.”

  Before she knew what he was about, Gabriel swooped down and swept her up into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped. He carried her through to her sitting room with floor-eating strides as though she weighed nothing at all.

  “Carrying you to the sofa
, sweetheart, where we’ll both be a lot more comfortable.”

  Arabella wasn’t going to argue with his reasoning.

  As Gabriel gently laid her on the red damask sofa, he followed her down, his mouth on hers, claiming her in a hungry, ravaging kiss. One hand came up to cup her jaw, and his tongue caressed hers with long, slow, languorous strokes.

  Arabella moaned, and her arms twined about him, her fingers curling into his hair. With one foot on the floor, Gabriel pushed his other knee between her thighs. His hand covered her breast, squeezing gently.

  Why, oh why had she foolishly denied Gabriel and herself this exquisite pleasure for so long? But then a little voice whispered: Because one day, he will also make someone else feel this way, Arabella. He’s your husband but he hasn’t promised to stay true to you.

  She stiffened in his arms and Gabriel broke the kiss.

  “What is it, Bella?” he murmured. The hand cradling her face slid to her neck. His thumb caressed the spot just above her collarbone where her pulse beat hard and fast. “Am I being too rough?” He grazed a burning kiss along her jaw. “It’s just been so long and you taste so damned good.”

  She swallowed and shook her head. “No . . . you’re not being too rough. It’s just . . . I find it difficult to be like this with you, when I know that you don’t love me and that one day you will bed another.”

  He placed his forehead against hers, and when he spoke, his warm breath fanned across her lips. “You think too much, Bella. There are so many things we could do to relieve our frustration, to give each other pleasure, if only you’d live in the moment and let go. There’s nothing wrong with giving in to passion.” He nuzzled her ear. “We’re married, remember? We can do whatever we like.”

  She shook her head. “I want to relent, but I can’t. I’m not like you. I’ve said it before. I want to be more than just a quick tumble. A bit of sport. I’ll not go back on my word about giving you a child when the time is right. But until then, the only way I’ll welcome you back into my bed is if you can promise me you’ll be faithful. Or better yet, if you can profess your love for me. In any case, we both know you won’t do either of those things.”