She matched his fury with her own and closed the remaining distance separating them, so close that her dress covered the toes of his boots. “You could have fooled me. Your cronies have seen you more than your own daughter has. When have you taken a moment to teach Phoebe anything?” She knew her words were unfair the moment they left her mouth, but she was too incensed to stop. “As you so kindly pointed out, I am here for a reason, and that is to ensure proper care for Phoebe. Something you yourself admitted you are not capable of doing.”
Elizabeth poked a single finger into his hard chest. At her touch, his eyes flew wide, before they narrowed, almost menacing. “If you want what is best for your daughter, you are going to listen to me—and my silly requests. Do you understand?”
“Oh, I understand all right. Now, let me make sure you understand.” He lunged forward, forcing her to scramble—either that or fall on her bottom. “If you continue to provoke me—” Another step, as she retreated. “Continue to push me—” One more step forward, and she backed right into the closed door.
His muscled frame leaned into hers. “Continue to dictate to me, I’ll have no choice but to demonstrate to you exactly who is in charge.”
Her body began to tremble when he lifted his hand and traced the tip of his finger along her jaw. Just when she thought she would melt at his feet, he tapped her chin as one would a child and stepped away. “Now, run along. I have much to do before dinner.”
Unable to move, she gaped at him as he dismissed her and crossed to what appeared to be a desk, making her realize they were in an office of some sort. The least of her concerns, not after his latest management of her. Would the man ever cease dismissing her?
That would have to wait until later; she had more important issues to deal with. She squared her shoulders and pushed away from the door. “About that room for Phoebe . . .” She trailed off, deliberately.
He stopped in mid-stride, fisted his hands, and gave a slight shake of his head, but he didn’t turn. A tiny flicker of amusement warmed her at his obvious displeasure. Serves the man right for his manner toward me. She remained quiet and almost gave up on him responding.
Then he ground out tightly, “Inform the housekeeper, Mrs. Wilkes, you should be moved to the peach suite. There is a connecting door to a smaller room that Phoebe may use.”
“Mrs. Wilkes? Do all your servants carry the name Wilkes?” she asked, not even trying to disguise her satisfaction at his surrender.
He continued to his desk. “Only Wilkes and his wife. When I’m in London, Wilkes travels along. His wife prefers the country, so she stays in Frenton.” He sat at the desk, still not looking at Elizabeth. “Now, if that will be all, I am busy.”
At the unmistakable dismissal, she opened the door to leave, but stopped when the urge to goad him became too great to ignore. “Thank you for seeing things my way . . . Your Grace.” Before he could respond, she swept through the doorway, closing the door behind her.
Chapter 20
Bloody, bloody hell! Gabe dropped his elbows on the desk with a dull thud and lowered his head onto his palms. What the devil was he to do with the minx? One moment he wanted to strangle her. The next, hold her close and kiss her senseless. One thing was clear; until a governess for Phoebe could be hired, her presence would torture him.
Frustrated, Gabe pushed the chair back, scraping it against the floor, and stood. With one purpose in mind he crossed the room to the waiting decanter of brandy. He gave silent thanks that even though the office belonged to his land steward, it was always freshly stocked and with nothing less than the best.
Glass and decanter in hand, he took up residence in one of the chairs arranged across from the desk, stretched out his legs, and proceeded to indulge in the fine liquor. Maybe the chaos of his life would appear less dire after a few glasses. Or bottles. And if the brandy didn’t help, there was always his stash of whiskey. Either way, he would rid himself of the fierce desire Elizabeth provoked, even when she was being demanding.
He smiled as he recalled their latest skirmish. If he hadn’t reined in the longing to pull her into his arms and show her how dominating he could be, the confrontation would’ve had an entirely different outcome. It had taken more willpower than he’d expected to step away from her. If only their tangles could end in more pleasurable ways. Preferably in a bed, not that he was particular about where the distinct pleasure of claiming her occurred.
After his behavior at the inn, he’d been surprised she hadn’t slapped him the moment he’d gotten close. Visions of her face as he’d spurned her still haunted him. He lifted the glass, hoping a mouthful of the potent liquid would burn away the discomfort, but all he found was the bottom of the tumbler.
Gabe lifted the decanter and quickly rectified the situation. This would be easier if he dispensed with the glass altogether. He took a healthy swallow and savored the heat that started in his gut and spread wide. At least he was still capable of feeling something.
Anything besides the dread that had run rampant since Elizabeth had whispered she loved him.
If he’d been anywhere besides a posting inn with women to escort the next morning, he would’ve found the closest bottle of spirits and numbed his body, perhaps for days. The night had been hellish enough, sitting in the uncomfortable chair—one not meant for someone of his size—before the downstairs fire, slowly sipping the swill the innkeeper swore was the best around. He’d lied.
Unfortunately, neither the dull ache surrounding his head nor the morning light had made his mood any better. And when Elizabeth had appeared, a hopeful smile gracing her beautiful face, the events that had unfolded the night before had come rushing back. He knew his flight from the inn had been abrupt, but every inch of him had screamed to retreat. Before he broke down, pulled her into his arms and accepted the love she’d offered.
He polished off another glassful, rested his head back, and let the fire run through his body. If he consumed enough, maybe he wouldn’t feel so horrible at the distance he’d been forced to erect between himself and Elizabeth. He hadn’t wanted to, but after a night of contemplating, he’d found no other answer. No matter how difficult it would be, he would do anything to keep from further hurting Elizabeth.
He cringed at the harsh words he’d thrown at her in the yard outside the inn, but he’d seen little alternative. Forcing her to perceive him as the man he was would no doubt destroy any love she felt for him. He wouldn’t think about why, if it was for the best, doing so had tightened something in his chest, making it hard to breathe.
He lifted the decanter to refill the glass and found it empty. When had that happened? Surely he hadn’t managed to polish off the entire thing. He soon realized he had somehow accomplished precisely that as he rose on slightly unsteady feet and the effects of so many drinks flooded him. He welcomed his intoxicated state. It was familiar. Something he knew how to navigate. Now, if only he had a willing woman, a woman who wouldn’t profess her love, a woman who knew how to carry on with a man like him, he might somehow manage to dispel Elizabeth entirely from his thoughts.
Gabe shook his head in disgust and sent the room spinning with his efforts. With years of practice, he righted himself. Another woman wouldn’t solve his problems. His body craved no one else. And he wasn’t about to embarrass himself trying to work up the enthusiasm to take one.
Constant inebriation held no appeal, either. He’d have to find some other way to keep from dragging Elizabeth off and pleasuring her in ways she never dreamed possible—ways he reflected on all too frequently.
On wobbly feet, Gabe tried to dispose of the empty decanter, set on retrieving a fresh one. His actions impaired by his half drunken condition, the bottle clanged upon hitting the others and he only just saved it from falling to the floor.
“Oh, Your Grace. I hadn’t realized you arrived,” an all-too-calm voice announced from the doorway.
“Phillip,” Gabe said, relieved to note his words appeared to be even and not slurred. “What are you doing about at this time of the day?”
Phillip approached the desk. “I knew you would be arriving soon. There are some reports I wanted you to review.” The efficient steward shuffled papers on the desk. “I wanted to ensure all was in order for when you arrived.”
Gabe contained a chuckle. The man never ceased to impress. He might be a couple years Gabe’s senior, but if Gabe was forced to speculate, he’d say Phillip lacked the more fundamental life experiences men his age possessed. However, when it came to managing Gabe’s various estates, the man had proved invaluable—and a touch annoying.
Having no inclination to oversee the estates himself, shortly after his father’s death, Gabe had released the reins to Phillip, which allowed for the pursuit of more leisurely activities.
After a few short months, Phillip had improved things greatly and even settled a few long-standing disputes with the tenants. Now, if only Gabe could make the man ease off slightly, affairs of the estate would be perfect.
“Phillip. We’ve been over this. I trust your instincts implicitly.” Gabe moved toward the desk carefully. “There is no need for me to review everything.”
“Thank you for the confidence, Your Grace, but in some instances, I feel you should be consulted.” Phillip regarded Gabe steadily. “This being your estate and all.”
It might be the alcohol fog surrounding him, but it sounded as if Phillip had chastised him. Gabe narrowed his eyes at his steward. The man’s face was the picture of innocence. Not a hint of disapproval could be found. His employee had never stepped out of place before, and it certainly didn’t seem that he’d start now. Gabe decided to ignore the remark.
“Especially if you are going to be investing in endeavors of your own.”
The remark reminded Gabe of his blackmailer and the excuse he had given his steward regarding the significant amount of money Gabe had needed on very short notice.
Getting away from his tormentor had been one of the many reasons Gabe had agreed to leave London. Knowing someone might be watching him whenever he left his house had sent shivers over his neck, and brought back feelings of when his father had been alive.
“I don’t think it necessary, but if you believe there is a need, I will stop by tomorrow.” Disinterested in looking at whatever Phillip had prepared, Gabe had every intention of finding an excuse to be unavailable tomorrow, and the day after, and any day he was in residence. He’d simply have to add Phillip to the list of people he planned to avoid.
He could put his name right next to Elizabeth’s.
I should have stayed in London.
Chapter 21
“I should have stayed in London,” Elizabeth grumbled as she stomped across the lawn, taking her frustrations out on the pristine grass. Crushing the green blades beneath the heel of her boots didn’t begin to satisfy her need to smash something. It was all Gabe’s fault. If she happened to imagine it was him she squashed beneath her boot, so be it.
After two full days of crossing paths with Gabe and being on the receiving end of his clipped comments, she’d found the house too confining and decided to ease her frustrations with a visit to the stables. With her horse, Shakespeare, in London, she had every intention of picking one of Gabe’s mounts—with or without his permission—to ride the remainder of her stay.
Perhaps she would teach a certain little girl to ride. Elizabeth had been younger than Phoebe when her father had placed her on her first pony. If it incited anger in Gabe, all the more reason to do it.
Her brisk stride settled slightly and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth to think of Gabe’s strong jaw tightening in fury. Any emotion beside the cold distance he currently presented her with would be an improvement.
Elizabeth approached the entrance of the stable the same moment a large form exited into her path. Strong hands grabbed her upper arms but didn’t save her from colliding with a hard, muscular chest.
Held against that chest, she glanced up expecting to see Gabe’s severe features. Instead she found a grin that could be considered nothing less than sensual, before meeting pale blue eyes dancing with merriment.
“Pardon me.” His velvet voice washed over her. The deep tones made him even more handsome.
Compelled by his easygoing demeanor, she smiled back. “No need. It was entirely my fault. My mind was elsewhere and I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Well, in that case, it is fortunate I was here.” His laughing regard became mischievous. “It would be a shame to allow you to walk into any harm.”
She cast her eyes over his attractive features. Everything about him—from his fashionably short blond hair to his striking jaw line with slightly square chin—spoke of his danger to a woman’s sensibility. Something told her if he wanted to, he could offer a woman’s self-control more harm than any physical obstacle would.
He was clean-shaven but the faint hint of light stubble kept his appearance from looking boyish. The suggestion of roguishness that flashed in his eyes confirmed he knew exactly what to do with a woman.
His grin had widened during her inspection. “I believe the proper thing would be for me to release you.” He sounded sincere yet made no move to free her.
Elizabeth didn’t feel threatened or in danger, but anyone exiting the stable would find her in his arms—and she wasn’t about to become the latest on dit.
Another slow minute passed. “Sir, I believe you were going to release me.”
“Actually, I believe I said the proper thing would be for me to release you. The thing is . . .” The roguish light returned to his eyes. “I’ve never been much for being proper.”
With other men, the statement would’ve been cause for subtle pause, but his improper speech spurred her on. “Be that as it may, I believe it would be in your best interest to release me.” She decided to match his audacity. “You see, I don’t presume you have any desire to marry me. And if we are caught in such an embrace . . . that is exactly what you’ll be forced to do.”
“That is where you are wrong.” When he didn’t immediately explain, her brows lowered in uncertainty. The man seemed determined to find pleasure in her bafflement.
Finally he spoke. “You see, I would like nothing better than to tie myself to a beautiful woman. And, you, my dear, are the very definition of beauty.”
The boldness of his words should have insulted her female sensibilities. Instead, she found herself warming to the handsome stranger and his wickedness. Something about him roused her naughty side. However, no matter how daring she felt, she couldn’t forget how damning a situation with a strange man could be.
As she was about to press the issue of being released, he removed his hands and stepped back. “Excuse my forwardness. When faced with such exquisiteness, I often find myself speaking without thinking.”
His words, colored with obvious charm, amused her. Light laughter escaped at his attempted contrition. “I somehow find that hard to believe. In fact, I suspect whenever a lady is present, beautiful or not, you are always in full facility of your thoughts and know precisely what to say to get exactly what you want.”
Normally, when faced with a practiced rogue such as this, she kept her head—not to mention her distance. Yet for all his apparent charm, he didn’t raise her hackles.
There was only one rake she preferred to associate with. However, that was something entirely different. She had loved Gabe well before he’d set about his rakish ways. Besides, she never believed he was the rake he led others to believe.
“Now that I’ve been thoroug
hly chastened, I should properly introduce myself.” He gave her a slight bow. “Nathaniel Frederickson, my lady. But, please, call me Nate. I insist all enchanting women do.”
Oh, he was good. If she were a simpering miss, she’d forever be his loyal admirer. Luckily for her, she had no such tendencies. So, instead of falling at his feet in a devoted swoon, she answered his bow with a pretend curtsy and smile of her own. “Lady Elizabeth Blakely. You may refer to me as Lady Elizabeth.”
He didn’t even try to look offended. “I see the lady has a clever wit of her own. Now, I know I must marry you.” He gave her another full smile. “How could I pass up such a gem? To find a woman of exceptional beauty is one thing, but to have that beauty companioned with intelligence is indeed a rarity. If my dear mama was alive, she would rue the day I let you escape.”
From anyone else the excessive flattery would be pure drivel. From Nathaniel Frederickson, it warmed her from the inside out. Not with passion, since she sensed his comments were based more on humor than truth, but with a feeling of ease.
Footsteps approaching from the stable pulled her attention from Nate. She couldn’t see around him to the door, but she feared she knew who owned those boots.
“Nate, I want you to look at my new mare before you head into town.”
When Nate faced Gabe, Elizabeth got a clear view of the very man she’d come to the stable to avoid. Accustomed to seeing him in his town attire, the sight of him in his buckskin breeches topped with nothing more than a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms, made her weak in the knees.
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