“I understand it is not unusual for the Regent to attend. He is great friends with the duke.”
Gabriel doubted the rotund monarch would be up for such an arduous trek as they had just taken.
A tall, uncharacteristically blond Cromwell approached them and pointed at Gabriel. “Seize him! And bring him to the tower,” he ordered nobody in particular.
Gabriel cut him a haughty look. “I’m the other Charles— or can’t you tell? Besides, it would appear your men have deserted you.”
Byer glanced over his shoulders and frowned. “What the devil happened to them?”
“How did you know it was me? Oh, never mind—it was Drake, wasn’t it?”
“I will not reveal my sources.” He cut a glance at Drusilla and bowed low. “And how arrogant we are to assume it was Your Highness I knew. It was your lovely companion I recognized.”
“Kind sir.” Drusilla dropped a curtsy and then handed him an orange. “And who are you? The Protector of lobsters?”
Gabriel laughed.
“Sharp-tongued Nell.” Byer ran a finger around the ruff at his neck, his exposed skin indeed an alarming shade of red.
“Hot?” Gabriel asked with a snicker. “I almost took that costume, but I am wiser than you.”
“I can’t imagine yours is much better,” Byer said, eyeing the heavy cloak.
“It isn’t.” Gabriel cut his wife a pitiful look.
She heaved a mock sigh. “Very well, you may take it off, Your Highness.”
Gabriel opened the heavy gold clasp that held the garment on and swept it off with a flourish. He gestured to a passing footman. “Put this in the cloakroom, please.”
The man sagged when Gabriel laid the burden in his arms.
The ballroom became even stuffier as more guests made their way from their carriages.
The doors remained closed in anticipation of a royal visit and the massive room was stultifying, a heavy fog of perfume and sweat hovering above the crush of bodies.
The dance floor was cramped and Gabriel was grateful his costume did not allow for much dancing as he could barely see past his wig. Drusilla, on the other hand, had danced with a very stiff Byer and a half-dozen others by the time supper rolled around. He looked over the dancers on the floor, searching for her plain bonnet, which was conspicuous among all the sparkling finery. He’d last seen her dancing with a man dressed as what he supposed was a corsair. But they were nowhere to be seen, now.
* * *
Drusilla leaned heavily on the tall corsair’s arm as she limped beside him. “Are you sure you are quite all right?” he asked, “Or shall I carry you.”
She cringed at the thought of making such a spectacle—even though she was in costume. “No, I do not require carrying. Perhaps you might help me to a seat on the terrace and then fetch my husband.”
“Ah, of course. And who might he be in this wild menagerie?”
“His Royal Highness Charles II.”
Her companion chuckled as he opened one of the closed French doors and guided her through before closing it behind her. “Better than Charles I.”
Drusilla smiled at the small jest. She had no idea who the corsair was, although there was something about his voice that teased at her memory. He had coal black hair that made his light blue eyes striking behind the full black velvet mask he wore.
He began to lead her down the steps and into the garden. Drusilla hesitated.
“It will be more private,” he assured her. “There is a seat just there—beside the fountain.”
Drusilla saw he was right and allowed him to help her to the stone bench. The garden had been lighted with colored lanterns, but the two nearest the fountain had gone out. There were other couples in the gloom, but nobody close by. A slight flutter of worry settled in her stomach before she recalled that she was a married lady: her reputation was no longer more delicate than an orchid. Still . . .
He crouched down in front of her, his colorful robes billowing as he dropped to his haunches. “Would you like me to look at your foot? After all, I am the oaf who may have broken your toes.”
Drusilla wiggled her toes, which indeed did feel crushed. But she hardly wanted some strange man looking at her foot. “That won’t be necessary. I would much rather you find my husband, if you do not mind.”
He hesitated, and then stood. “Stay right here—don’t walk on your foot or you might make it worse.”
Drusilla wanted to roll her eyes, but instead she forced out a smile. “Yes, of course.”
She looked down at her foot when he turned and left, grateful for the second time tonight that she’d worn sturdy shoes for her costume. If she’d been wearing dancing slippers when the clumsy corsair trod on her foot, it might indeed be broken.
She leaned down and untied the laces, reflecting on the odd evening. She’d danced almost every dance—a first in her life. The corsair had come upon her when she’d been looking for Gabriel. She was tired—they’d had a very energetic evening the night before—and she’d wanted nothing more than to go home early and curl up together in one of their beds.
Her face heated at her thoughts, even though she was alone. “Silly,” she muttered beneath her breath, toeing off her sturdy shoe, wincing when she tried wriggling her toes. The mysterious corsair had caught her before she could reach Gabriel and had begged for the next set so insistently it would have been uncomfortable to say no.
The first dance had been a waltz, which she had danced only a few times before—all this past week and just the one time with her husband. A dance that had seemed romantic and delightful with Gabriel had felt uncomfortable with a costumed stranger. She had not liked feeling another man’s hands on her. Nor had she liked his probing questions after she’d told him she was married. He had proceeded to winkle increasingly private details from her, his manner gentle but persistent.
“Even though your face is concealed from me, you seem to be a very happy lady,” he said at one point.
What did a person say to that?
“Yes, I would call myself happy.”
“Ah, you must be in love.”
She’d drawn the line at sharing something she’d not even told her husband yet. Her silence must have told him that he’d stepped over the line.
“I apologize, that was ill done of me. But I can’t help noticing you are glowing.”
She knew he was correct: she was glowing. Eva had noticed it, Fletcher had noticed it, and Lady Exley—in her direct manner—had commented on her appearance a few nights ago at dinner. She was in love with a man who seemed at least to be very fond of her, if not actually in love himself.
“Thank you,” she’d said, her voice cooler than usual to hide the joy she felt that even a stranger would notice her happiness. “I am very fortunate.”
“Indeed,” he had murmured quietly, and that had been the last they’d spoken until he’d trod on her foot.
As she massaged her toes she realized the corsair had been gone long enough to have found Gabriel, even in this crowded ballroom. She released her foot and sighed. Well, she would just have to put her shoe back on and go find him herself.
She should have guessed a pirate could not be trusted.
* * *
Gabriel removed his wig the moment he shut the door to the carriage.
“Feel better?” Drusilla asked as he lowered the window and let the breeze ruffle his damp hair.
“Much. Although I’ll need to bathe as soon as I get home.” He was distinctly ripe smelling. “Are you sure you don’t want me to sit in the other seat?”
“I am sure,” she said in the cool, prim manner he now knew hid great depth of feeling.
“How are your toes?”
“Sore, but uninjured.”
He took her hand in his beringed fist, wondering—not for the first time—how Byer could stand to wear so much jewelry. He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I will inspect them myself when I come to you tonight. Closely.”
>
She flashed him a shy smile.
“If I had met the blackguard who injured you, I would have had him dragged to the Tower.”
“That seems a severe punishment for mere toe treading.”
“He also abandoned you in your time of need.”
She chuckled. “To be honest, I was rather glad. There was something about him . . .”
“Oh?”
“Yes, he was asking odd questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“About our marriage, me, you, us.” She shrugged. “Personal questions.”
“I don’t like the sound of that—you have no idea who he was?”
“None.”
“Hmm.”
She squeezed his hand. “It was nothing. I’m just glad to be going home—glad this is the last big event of the Season.” She leaned against his shoulder. “Glad we will be going to Sizemore with Samir soon.”
Gabriel released her hand and slipped his arm around her. “He is a good little boy.”
“He is. I think he will make an excellent elder brother.”
Gabriel had to play her words over in his head before he gasped and grabbed her by the shoulders. “What?”
She looked up at him, the streetlights giving him brief glimpses of her smiling face. She nodded. “I believe it is true. It has been almost six weeks since we married and I should have started my courses by now.”
He pulled her into a crushing embrace, until he realized she was making slight choking sounds, and he released her, kissing her hard.
“You are happy?” she asked in a breathless voice.
He laughed. “I am happy.” She stiffened in his arms. “What is it?” he asked.
“I just realized that our child shall be only a bit younger than his or her aunts or uncles.”
Gabriel blinked. “Why, so they will.” He thought of something else, too. “And what of you, Drusilla? Are you happy with this? I know a marriage, husband, and children were not what you had planned for yourself.” She said something into his shoulder. “What was that, darling? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said I never dreamed I could have such a thing with you.”
“Oh, why is that?”
She chewed her lower lip, her expression anguished.
“What is it, Dru?” he asked, the diminutive form of her name slipping easily from his tongue. “Why do you look so sad?”
“I’m just so happy.” The words were hard to understand they were so soft.
He chuckled. “And that is a reason to look sad?”
“I am afraid my happiness will not last.”
Gabriel made a tsking sound and drew her close. “My little porcupine,” he said into her plain straw bonnet. “We should both rejoice in our good fortune in finding each other. I will not lie to you, Drusilla; I did not enter this marriage with a great deal of optimism. But as you gave me glimpses beyond your mask, I realized what a treasure I had inadvertently—and undeservedly—been given.” She pulled away and looked up at him, her cheeks damp.
“Don’t cry, my lovely Drusilla.” He leaned in and kissed away her tears. “Have you not realized that I’ve come to love you?” He stared at her stunned expression and shook his head. “And here I thought you were so clever.”
Her jaw dropped. “Y-you love me?”
He laughed softly at her marveling tone. “I love you. I should have told you when I first deciphered my emotions, but you are so—self-contained, so stern, so remote. I couldn’t imagine you would appreciate my messy feelings.”
“When? When did you know?”
“I believe I began to love you when you were so generous and accepting of Samir. But every day I have found more and more about you to admire, respect, and—yes—to love very much. You’re kind, intelligent, generous—”
“Oh stop,” she said, burying her face in his chest. “You’re making me blush terribly.”
He laughed softly.
“Are you certain I’ll be enough, Gabriel? After all, you were raised to believe—”
He gave her a gentle squeeze. “You forget, my love, that my mother also had a hand in my raising. All my life she has taught me that love is real. Even before she found it herself, she always believed in it. It’s true I would have lived as my father lived had I stayed.” He stroked her soft cheek. “But I chose to come to England and live a different life. I love you, Drusilla—and I want you. Only you—there will be no other woman in my life.”
She shook against him, as if the violence of her emotions was too much.
“Shhh,” he murmured into her hair.
She said something against his chest.
“What was that, sweetheart?”
“I’ve loved you since that first summer we met.”
All the air left his lungs, and he turned to face her, taking her chin between his fingers and forcing her to look at him. “What?”
“Yes, I did. But I knew even then, before I saw how many women pursued you—hurled themselves at you—that you would never want a woman like me. So I—I—”
“So you abused me at every opportunity.”
She choked out a watery sound that was half cry, half laugh. “Oh, Gabriel! I was so afraid you could never care for me, that you would take lovers and that I would die inside.”
“You goose,” he said, brushing back a spiraling strand of hair. “Besides, I can see you killing me before I see you dying.”
She sniffed loudly. “I might have.”
Gabriel pulled her soft, feminine, and already beloved body against him. “Your strength of purpose is one of the things I love and admire most about you.”
“Oh? What other things do you love and admire?”
He grinned into the darkness. “Well . . . I like the way you win some of our arguments—”
“Some!”
“All right, most of our arguments. I like your beautiful, wild hair and the feel of it across my body. When I’m naked,” he added in a rough whisper. “And I like the way you look when I am thrusting inside you and—”
“Gabriel!”
“Am I making you blush?” he asked as she pulled away and straightened her bonnet.
“I’m as red as a beet.”
“I love beets.”
They were enjoying a deep, languorous kiss when she broke away, her expression suddenly pensive.
“What is it?” he asked.
She bit her lower lip, her forehead furrowed with worry.
“Drusilla—”
“I went to see Giselle and Maria today.”
* * *
Drusilla had expected him to yell. Or to look angry. She had not expected him to laugh.
She frowned, inexplicably peeved by his response. “What is so funny?”
He shook his head, still chuckling. “I’m laughing because I’m imagining their surprise.”
Drusilla grunted. It was true, the two women had been flabbergasted to find her in their small but charming sitting room.
“I’m sorry for going behind your back on this matter, but I felt a persisting aura of mystery between us would only give my rather fertile imagination more, er, fertilizer.”
“I daresay they both admired you very much.”
Drusilla could not answer to that, but she had felt an unexpected twinge of admiration for them—of course that was nothing to the jealousy she felt. She didn’t know what she had expected to find, but it hadn’t been two well-spoken and attractive women in a house that had been decorated with exquisite taste. And it had almost ripped her apart to imagine Gabriel making love with them in that house.
Gabriel took her hand, no longer laughing. “I should have taken steps to introduce you to them myself—but I was far too cowardly. I’ve noticed before that women are frequently braver than men.”
She gave him a slight smile, unable to scrub her imagination of disturbing pictures of him with his ex-lovers: touching them, being touched.
It would take time, but she would conquer her em
otions.
Gabriel lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I am pleased you made their acquaintance, Drusilla. You are correct in saying it will make future relations much easier.”
The carriage rolled to a halt just then and Drusilla was spared from responding—which was an enormous relief. While she had wanted to establish contact for Samir’s sake, that didn’t mean it was an enjoyable activity. The fact that the women were so elegant and well spoken might have actually made matters more difficult.
A footman opened the carriage door, but Gabriel handed Drusilla down. It wasn’t until he was halfway up the steps that he realized the door was open.
Parker stood in the opening, his face tight and tense.
“What is it?” Gabriel demanded, his voice harsher than he had intended.
Before he could speak, Byer came up behind Parker. “I’ve just come from Giselle and Maria’s; Samir has been kidnapped.”
Chapter 25
Drusilla had always believed she’d seen her husband at his most angry when he’d attacked Visel. But this . . . he sat across from her, engaging in low-voiced conversation with Byer, and his eyes—his lively green eyes—seemed to have become stone.
Gabriel had only stopped long enough to strip off his cumbersome costume before accompanying Byer to Alder Street.
He hadn’t been gone long and Byer did not return with him.
Drusilla had changed into a comfortable gown and paced until his return. She led him to the library. “Sit, have some tea.”
He did not demur, his expression almost crazed.
“What happened, Gabriel?”
“Giselle and Maria’s maid discovered Sami’s nurse, Mrs. Banks, in her room with a large lump swelling on her head.”
“Is the lady hurt?”
“Not seriously, thank God. She was already awake when I got there, but she remembered nothing as both she and the boy had been asleep when it happened. The open window in the schoolroom makes it clear how the person—whoever it was—entered the house.
“It is a steep climb with very little to hold on to,” Gabriel said, his expression taut with worry. “I hope to God Samir took no harm or—”
The door opened to the library, and Parker stood in the doorway, a full tray in his hands. He glanced nervously from Gabriel’s angry face to Drusilla.
Notorious Page 30