Aaron moved up beside her. “I will take this turn.” He scowled at Miss Carter over his shoulder.
“No. I did not secure a seat. I shall take my turn like everyone else.” Gabby shooed him toward the seat. Which he had never actually sat in, so Gabby could sit there and still be within the rules of the game.
But Aaron had a feeling she would not welcome this suggestion. Instead he sat down and waited for her to begin again. But his objectives had changed—or rather been added to. Now he would not only be trying to get Gabby to sit on his lap but protect her from Miss Carter in the process.
Chapter 17
Gabby stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that. A large purple bruise covered her elbow and she knew several more colored her hips and thighs. The previous evenings fun and games had turned rather brutal rather quickly. More than once, Gabby had found herself deposited on the floor while Miss Carter looked smugly down at her.
But the occasions when Gabby had sent Miss Carter to the floor, were no less bruising and painful, though they did hold a certain degree of satisfaction. Still, Gabby felt every painful swish of her dress and breath that she took. Perhaps they should have played the move-all game earlier in Christmastide Season so as not to have these bruises for the ball tonight. It had convinced her that nothing she said to Miss Carter would make a difference. The woman was determined to hate Gabby.
Gabby ran her hands down the front of her gown. Even with the bruises, she felt pretty in it. The pale green gown with a golden lace overdress brightened her eyes, bringing out the honey-colored flecks. It was one reason Eleanor had insisted they buy it before leaving London. Gabby had intended to keep it tucked away until they returned for the Season. It was just the kind of gown to make an impression at one of the more fashionable society balls. And she needed to make an impression, just not in London as she had previously thought.
She glanced out the darkened window. The weather had remained clear for the past few days, and it had looked as if they may return to London, rather than moving on to Dovehaven after tonight’s Twelfth Night ball.
Tonight was the reason Gabby had brought this dress with her, rather than leaving it at Penderton House. She lifted the overlay away from the underdress and twisted from side to side. This would do nicely.
Aaron had looked at her differently over the last few days. It was foolish to hope, but she couldn’t help it. And tonight, she wanted to feel special—to feel beautiful.
She swallowed.
But would Aaron agree? He often made up excuses to seek her out and spend time with her. She could almost guarantee if she went to the library, he would appear before too long. That did not mean he loved her, but it meant something, did it not?
Gabby put a hand to her stomach and sucked in a breath.
She blinked rapidly several times and shook her head. She was being silly. How could someone like Aaron possibly love someone like her? She did not come from the Beau monde. And while she may have had aristocratic grandparents, she had not even known them—something obviously not in her favor.
It was possible she had conjured this supposed attraction in her mind. She’d heard of it happening before—someone wanting something so badly they saw things that were not really there.
She took in a calming breath.
“What ees zee matter? Vous look lovely zis evening.” Aline looked over Gabby’s shoulder and stared into the mirror.
“Nothing is amiss. I am just nervous. What if no one asks me to dance? We have seen how people react when they realize I am French.”
Aline smiled and patted Gabby’s arm. “You are much too beautiful for gentlemen to ignore you for long. Besides, once zey learn of your goodness, zey will forget all about your nationality.”
Gabby smiled half-heartedly. “Thank you, Aline.”
Aline gave Gabby’s shoulders a squeeze. Her maid had only meant to encourage and reassure, but it saddened Gabby.
She missed having a mother to guide and encourage her. She hardly remembered her, recalling only snippets of memories. And while her father had been attentive, it was not the same.
She blinked back the tears pooling in the bottoms of her lids. Now was not the time to become a watering pot. She’d known girls in France whose mothers were kind and caring. But she’d also known many whose mothers were anything but loving. So perhaps she was just as well with Aline.
Gabby turned and hugged her maid. “Thank you.”
The woman stiffened at first, but then relaxed and hugged Gabby back. “You’re welcome, miss.”
A knock sounded and Aline moved to answer it, but Eleanor pushed into the room before Aline had a chance to open it.
“Gabby?” Eleanor nearly floated into the room.
“Eleanor, you look lovely this evening.”
Eleanor smiled. “Thank you.” She stood back and looked Gabby over from head to toe.
Gabby’s hands shook. Would she approve of what she saw?
“Oh, this gown is everything I thought it would be.” She placed her finger to her lips. “But something is missing…”
Gabby turned and looked into the mirror. She twisted her head to one side then the other. Had she missed something earlier? There did not appear to be anything wrong with the back. Her hand flew to her hair. Perhaps that is where the problem lay. Her fingertips gently caressed the tiny pearls Aline had woven into the plaits and knot.
“I do not understand—”
A string of golden pearls swung over her head and rested against her collarbone. Eleanor fastened the necklace and stepped back. “Now you are ready.”
The pearls felt cool on her skin, but Gabby could not pull her gaze away from how they looked around her neck. “I cannot take your pearls, Eleanor.”
Eleanor smiled. “They are not my pearls, Gabby. They are yours.”
Gabby shook her head. “No, they are not.”
“They belonged to your mother. Your father’s solicitor sent them to Peter, along with a few other items your father wished for you to have. Peter delivered them just before we left London. He wanted you to have them for the upcoming Season. I had planned to leave them at Penderton House, but at the last minute I brought them with us.” She sighed. “I am so glad that I did.”
How had she never seen them before? Had Peter really purchased them and used her mother as an excuse? “But I have never seen them before—never been told about them.”
Eleanor shrugged gracefully—something Gabby knew she could never accomplish. “I am in earnest, Gabby.”
“It is not you I am questioning, Eleanor.” Gabby pulled her long gloves off the table and pulled them on one by one. She turned back toward the mirror and grunted, running her fingers over the pearls one more time. Had these really been her mother’s? Had Eleanor sensed Gabby’s need for a connection to her mother? Is that why she had brought the necklace?
Whatever it was, Gabby was grateful, even if the necklace did not make her any less nervous. The longer she stared in the mirror, the more her anxiety grew. “We should be going. I’m certain Lord and Lady Brinton are downstairs waiting.”
She swallowed hard again. The time had come. She placed a smile on her face and pretended that all was well, as opposed to how she really felt—as if a den of fox cubs rolled around in her stomach.
Gabby and Eleanor sauntered down the corridor. “Gabby, relax.”
Gabby looked over at Eleanor. “What if no one dances with me?”
Eleanor smiled. “I am certain you will dance with at least one gentleman. And others will follow.” She patted Gabby on the arm. “Hugh will dance with you also. So you are certain of two sets, at least.”
Gabby smirked. “Two sets? That is all I am assured? That is dismal, indeed.”
Eleanor nodded. “That is more like it. That is the Gabby that has won Lord Brinton’s heart.”
Gabby stopped at the top of the stairs. “Do you really think so?”
“I am certain he will offer for you before the Season is underway. I s
hall be surprised if he does not do so before we depart.” Eleanor squared her shoulders. “Now, it looks as if they are waiting for us.”
They moved down the first set of stairs. Aaron was the first to capture her attention. He stood in the entryway looking more handsome than any gentleman ought in his black superfine tailcoat. The dowager viscountess stood at his side and Rebekah next to her.
Aaron greeted Eleanor first with a smile, but Gabby could see it was only superficial; the twinkle she’d recently seen in his eyes was absent.
Or it was until his gaze found her as she stepped onto the marble-tiled floor.
Her breath hitched.
He stopped mid-conversation, his face relaxing into an affable grin. The dimple at the side of his eye, the one that only came out when he was genuinely smiling, appeared.
There it was. The look that gave her hope he felt for her the same way she felt for him. He stepped forward and bowed. “Good evening, Miss Babineaux.” His eyes never left her face, even as he bent low.
Gabby curtsied. “My lord. Thank you for the invitation. It was very kind of you.” What was she babbling about?
Lady Kirtley sidled up to Gabby’s side. “Guests will arrive at any moment. Perhaps we should allow Lord Brinton to prepare for the evening.”
“I believe everything is ready. However, there was a chalk picture in the ballroom I wished to show Miss Babineaux before it becomes smudged.” Aaron stepped away from his mother and Rebekah. “If you will excuse us.” He cupped Gabby’s elbow and guided her away from the receiving line. “I regret my guests will require my attention for some time. It will be dull, to be sure. But I had hoped to claim your supper dance.”
“I will save it for you.” Gabby raised her hand to the pearls around her neck, only then noticing her pulse that was surely about to burst through her skin. She glanced behind her as they passed through the ballroom doors. Her face warmed when she caught sight of Lord Kirtley’s raised brows and approving smile.
Aaron removed his hand from her elbow, instead, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Miss Babineaux, you will be quite sought after this evening, of that, I have no doubt.” That brought a frown to his face. “I am happy to have these few moments with you before the guests arrive.”
They stopped at the edge of the ballroom floor. Chalk created intricate patterns of vines, flowers, and leaves on the floor around the perimeter of the room. The center held a large design of a mariner’s compass in differing hues of grays and blacks.
Half a dozen golden chandeliers glittered in the candlelight, shadows dancing on the floor, even though the orchestra had not yet played their first notes.
“It is beautiful,” Gabby whispered in an awestruck voice. She dropped her hand from his arm and tilted her head back, taking in the fresco and the coffered ceilings.
“I am glad you approve.” His voice tickled the space between her earlobe and her collarbone at the same time his hand rested at the small of her back. Suddenly, just breathing took all of her concentration.
They circled the room—Aaron intent on the artwork of both the ceiling and the floor.
His hand dropped away from her back, the heat noticeably absent. But before she could lament its departure too much, he captured her hand in his. She could not decide which she liked better.
He pointed out distinct elements of the art, but Gabby paid minimal attention to his words.
Breathing still felt deliberate and her hand felt warm and tingly in his. Everything seemed right in this moment, and she wished it would never end.
They reached the far end of the room, and Aaron pulled her to a stop.
She looked up into his face. Why had they stopped? Had he realized she paid no attention to anything he said? Or was there something here he wished to point out?
He moved in front of her, staring down at her with an intensity in his gaze she was coming to recognize.
Her heart skittered in her chest. Was this it? Was this when he was going to tell her he loved her?
He flicked his eyes upward. His brows rose and he tilted his head slightly to the side, a crooked grin on his lips.
Gabby followed his gaze and her mouth fell open.
He had stopped her for a reason—wished for her to notice something.
A kissing ball hung just above their heads. They had been hanging about the house for more than a week but never had she stopped beneath one. That was not to say she had not imagined what could happen if she were to stop. She had imagined it. Many times over.
Gabby bit her lower lip, releasing it when Lady Kirtley’s warnings sounded in her head. Now was not the time for dried, cracked lips.
They stood for a moment, both looking questioningly at each other. Did he want her to kiss him? Gabby’s heart gave a painful thump. She did not think she could do it. But she did not need to question for long.
His head lowered slowly, giving her a chance to move away if she desired.
But she didn’t desire it. She was almost embarrassed to admit to herself what she wanted. Her muscles jumped in anticipation, her pulse hammering in her ears and neck.
He released her hand and ran his fingers lightly up her arm, resting his hand just below her earlobe. He grinned, obviously feeling the thumping beneath his fingertips. Taking it as permission, he closed the distance and covered her lips with his.
Gabby let out a whimper. She had never seen fireworks—only heard about them. Her father had told her a person could feel the power and energy of the explosion. But she’d never understood his meaning until now. She was certain they could not be half so spectacular or powerful as the energy pulsing through her body. It was frightening and exhilarating.
She raised her hands to his chest, grasping the lapels of his coat, both to keep herself standing and to bring him closer.
He sighed and deepened the kiss, sliding his other hand around her waist to the small of her back.
Hand holding was delightful, but his hand on her back was undoubtedly her favorite. She yielded willingly, allowing him to tighten his hold and pull her closer to him. “Gabby,” he mumbled against her lips. “I want to ask—"
A gasp pierced the air, and Gabby released his coat, pushing away from him. Lord and Lady Kirtley stood in the doorway. Eleanor’s hands flapped at her side, like a baby bird trying to fly, her mouth and eyes gaping open. The overall effect was less than flattering.
Lord Kirtley, however, grinned broadly, his head nodding with approval.
“What are you doing?” Lady Kirtley shrieked as she took three long steps toward them, her glare searing into Aaron.
“I believe you know what they were doing, my love.” Kirtley walked beside his wife with far less purpose in his stride.
She shot him a withering glance before turning it on Aaron. “I knew you favored her, but my lord! But…are you trying to ruin her?”
“No, surely not.” Aaron stepped slightly behind Gabby. Was he seeking shelter from Eleanor? Her back stiffened until he unclasped his hands to take hold of hers. “I am sorry, Gabby. That was not completely my intent in bringing you in here.” His voice was a pained whisper.
Gabby realized she had been too hasty earlier in declaring his hand on her back the decided winner. Because, now, the feel of her hand in his was amazing. It gave her confidence and reassurance. Both of which she needed to face Eleanor.
“What have we done wrong?” His voice was stronger than it had been when he apologized. “Are we not standing under a kissing ball? What is it for if not kissing? It would have been an unpardonable offense to the lady had I not done as tradition holds.” He squeezed her hand and stepped up closer behind her.
Lady Kirtley huffed. “A kiss on the cheek is acceptable, perhaps even a quick kiss on the lips. But that…that was not just a kiss. That was…” Her head shook as she sputtered. “Well, I am not going to voice what that was. No proper lady would.” She turned to her husband for support, but he only shrugged. “Are you not to do anything, Hugh? Will you a
llow him to take such liberties with Gabby?”
“Aside from asking for pointers, I should think not.” He slid a hand around his wife’s waist and led her off to the side. “They are in love, Eleanor, as you are aware. No one else saw them. I do not see any reason to do anything other than pat Lord Brinton on the back.”
She opened and shut her mouth several times, but he stopped her.
“Let it happen naturally, Ellie. Brinton could not kiss a lady in such a manner, and not have plans to marry her. Let it be for now. If, when the Season begins, he has not offered for her, then I shall call him out.”
Gabby’s face burned with humiliation at every sentence Lord Kirtley spoke. For her part, Gabby knew Lord Kirtley was right. She did love Lord Brinton. But what of him? Was Eleanor right? What were his intentions?
She ran the back of her hand over her pulsating lips. Could he kiss her like that if he did not love her as Lord Kirtley had insinuated? There were men who could, Gabby knew. But was Aaron such a man? If he was, would he not have given in to Lady Brinton’s advances?
Lady Kirtley broke away from her husband’s side and came to Gabby. “Come, Gabrielle, let us fix you up before anyone can see what he has done.” She cast another withering glare at Aaron.
Aaron lifted a hand. “But I have not finished—”
Eleanor glared over her shoulder. “You most certainly have finished, my lord.”
His head shook and he muttered to himself. He was no doubt regretting his actions.
Tears gathered in Gabby’s eyes, but she did not know if they were due to Eleanor’s reprimand or her embarrassment at being caught so thoroughly kissing Lord Brinton. Or it could simply be because the most enjoyable moment of her life had come to such an abrupt end. Whatever it was, she knew she should have felt a sting of regret, but she did not. Rather, she wished for a quiet corner where the kiss could happen again and again.
Lord Kirtley moved in next to Aaron. “Carriages are arriving. I should guess your first guest will be inside shortly.”
“Gabby?” Aaron’s voice was strained.
Thawing the Viscount's Heart: A Christmas Regency Romance (Belles of Christmas: Frost Fair Book 3) Page 15