by Meara Platt
Out of anger, she assured herself.
She would get over her ill feeling toward the bounder in a few days, for she was never one to hold grudges, even though he’d clearly been in the wrong. He’d also been arrogant and rude. He believed her to be a foggy-headed husband hunter with little polish and no sense of style.
What would he think of her when he learned of The Incident?
Why should she care? Indeed, she didn’t. She let out a huff and straightened her spine, now quite put out. Who was he to cast judgment upon her when he was unfit to move about in civilized society?
The carriage came to a stop at the opposite end of the park. “Ah, here we are,” Eloise said, drawing Daisy out of her thoughts.
Daisy lowered the window and stuck her face out. A light breeze tickled her nose. She noticed an imposing gray brick townhouse that appeared to be impeccably maintained. “This can’t be Lord Hornby’s residence. There isn’t a soul on the street.”
“Goodness, I meant to tell you, but it slipped my mind. Gabriel is to join us.”
“Now? Here? This is his home?” She tried to keep the dismay out of her voice, but knew she’d failed. She had expected the man to reside in a den of iniquity. After all, he had a horrid reputation. But to reside in this magnificent abode?
“Yes, this is his London residence. Of course, his seat is in Derbyshire.”
Daisy turned to her companion. “I’m curious about that, for you’ve never really explained how he acquired his seat. Certainly not through the Trent line, for he’s the younger son. And there are so many rumors circulating about it that one doesn’t know quite what to believe.”
“Is it important? He’s quite enterprising—acquired the Derbyshire estate and title all on his own.”
“But how?” Probably by cheating at cards, Daisy mused. Or doing the Prince Regent some wicked favor to earn his gratitude. Hushed up a royal scandal, no doubt.
Eloise sat upright and quirked her head. “How odd! You know, I’m not certain how it came about. The news spread quietly one day that he’d been made Baron Summersby and given a charming estate to go along with the title. Gossip has it that he saved the life of an unnamed royal offspring, or perhaps it was some other royal relation. The point is, Gabriel must have rescued someone important, although the details were never disclosed.”
“No doubt from a seedy establishment filled with cardsharps, cutthroats, and women of ill repute.” Daisy closed her eyes and stifled a sigh of exasperation. “Is there a reason you asked him to join us tonight?”
Eloise’s diamond earrings gleamed as brightly as her eyes. “I didn’t. He asked to accompany me.”
“He asked you? He ought to have been warned that I was to ride in your carriage. I’m sure he won’t be pleased to find me here.”
“Oh, he knew you were coming.”
Daisy tried, but failed, to muffle her surprise. “He did? And he still agreed to ride with you... er, with us?” How odd, for the man detested her. Well, he didn’t really. He felt quite indifferent toward her, which was in many ways worse, for hatred required some passion, while indifference was as exciting as sipping tepid soup. No flavor, no vibrance. Just watered-down bland.
“Good evening, Grandmama, Miss Farthingale.”
“Eep!” Gabriel’s whiskey-smooth rumble jolted her out of her thoughts. He’d moved so quietly that she hadn’t noticed his approach. He now stood by the carriage, a smirk on his handsome face.
Eloise harrumphed. “Must you be so formal, Gabriel? This is my dear Daisy, and I insist you call her so.”
“Very well,” he said, filling the doorway with his presence as he climbed in and settled in the seat across from her. “Good evening, dear Daisy.”
The bright streetlight illuminated his exquisite features.
Oh, she was doomed to an evening of torment! It wasn’t fair that a man as wicked as Gabriel should look so good. The cut of his formal black coat accentuated his broad shoulders, powerful chest, and trim waist. The light shimmering into the carriage from the street seemed to form a halo about his magnificent gold hair.
“Good evening, Lord Dayne,” she managed with a pronounced squeak to her voice. Be clever. Be clever. Now is your chance to show him you’re not in the least affected by his presence.
“Please, call me Gabriel.”
Unfortunately, he did affect her—she couldn’t overlook the rapid beats of her heart or the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She stared at his lips as they moved, unable to respond to his question. Wait, had he even asked a question? His lips were as tempting as hot scones slathered in butter. Made her want to sink her mouth on them and lick—stop thinking of slathering Gabriel with anything! Finally she managed an appallingly dim-witted reply. “What?”
He leaned close and began to speak to her as slowly as one would to a foreigner who did not understand the English language or to a person of limited understanding. “I... said... you... may... call... me... Gabriel.”
Ah, this was going to be a very long evening.
“I... heard... you... the... first... time,” she replied, leaning ever closer so that their noses almost touched as she imitated his manner of speech. “I... just... hadn’t... expected... the... offer.”
He chuckled lightly.
Their breaths mingled.
His was nice, as inviting as a soft May breeze.
Her skin grew hot and inexplicably began to tingle. Not fair. Not fair!
He chuckled again and eased his large frame so that his back rested against the polished leather squabs.
His long legs grazed hers as the carriage jerkily pulled away.
She let out a slight gasp— more of another eep really. Definitely not fair! She had better sense—or ought to have had better sense—than to respond to that knave’s accidental touch. And why was she still thinking of his lips and wishing to lick them?
Eloise was now staring at her. “Did you say something, Daisy?”
How could she when she could hardly string two words together? “No.”
“I thought you did,” she insisted, casting Daisy an assessing smile. Oh, dear. Was Eloise really thinking of using her to civilize her grandson?
She had to disabuse her of the notion at once. “But I didn’t say anything just now. Nor did I mean what I said earlier. You remember.” She arched an eyebrow and subtly glanced in Gabriel’s direction.
“Why not? I thought it was an excellent idea,” Eloise persisted.
“I know. But it isn’t.”
“Ah, I see.” Eloise’s smile broadened as she also cast a subtle glance in Gabriel’s direction. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice. “I do see.”
Daisy stifled a groan. “I don’t think you do, Eloise.”
“I’m sure I do.”
“I don’t think so.” Crumpets! She recognized that look of determination. Eloise was going to match make. A terrible idea that would not end well for her or Gabriel.
“But I do.”
Daisy heaved a sigh. “And I—”
“May I interrupt this scintillating conversation?” Gabriel asked dryly.
“Please do,” Daisy said, certain this evening was headed for disaster. She couldn’t possibly reform this rakehell, for she was an utter nitwit whenever in his presence. She didn’t understand why, but his wretched smirk was making matters worse. How rude of him! Indeed, quite rude. She had forgiven his behavior at their first meeting, but had no intention of doing so now.
“Your grandmother and I were trying to hold an intelligent conversation... that is to say, we are usually capable of holding intelligent conversations... and often do... at least, your grandmother does... though we aren’t having one just now, are we?”
Oh, dear. She was rambling and he was grinning.
A deliciously soft grin.
And now her entire body was doing the same odd, tingling dance it had done the first day they’d met.
“Yes,” she continued, wishing he’d stop looking at her in tha
t dangerous, heart-melting way. “That’s why you sought to interrupt. Is there something clever you wish to say?”
“Clever?” He let out a throaty chuckle. “That puts me under quite a bit of pressure. I merely wished to thank my grandmother for allowing me to ride with her to Lord Hornby’s ball. Thought I’d mention it before the evening wore on and I became distracted.”
“Quite understandable... er, yes.” Daisy began to fidget with her lace collar.
“Stop fussing,” Eloise whispered. “Pay no attention to that oaf, even if he is my grandson. You’re a delight and you look just fine.”
“For a snowball,” she whispered, feeling impossibly unsophisticated. Her gown needed more fabric at the bodice and less everywhere else. She felt miserable and uncomfortable, and Gabriel was still staring at her.
Finally he leaned forward, a mischievous grin on his lips. “Daisy—”
“Oh, dear! Please don’t tell me what you really think of me tonight. Let me keep a shred of dignity!”
He drew back and regarded her with something resembling astonished sincerity. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t.”
“But you look scared.”
“Not of you, but of the mistakes I’m sure to make tonight. You see, this is my first ball, and my first chance to make my family proud. I want everything to be perfect, but I’m so... so... and my gown is just... just...”
“Beautiful and so are you,” he said with unexpected gentleness.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
He leaned forward and took her hands in his, imbuing her with his warmth. “Daisy, you do look lovely and that’s the plain truth.”
“Are you certain?” she finally eked out.
“Yes.” He graced her with a long, lazy smile.
Daisy felt her cheeks flame. Great balls of cheese! The man was dangerous.
Is this how he’d seduced Lady What’s-Her-Name? And why Lord What’s-His-Name had shot him? Be clever... be calm... do not acknowledge this rogue. Oh, she desperately wanted to think of a smart retort to put him in his place. He had no right to be nice to her.
Certainly not this nice.
He flashed her another lazy smile.
The man was too, too handsome. And confident. And shameless.
His devastating smile was now causing her blood to bubble and her toes to curl in that pleasant way they curled beside a warming fire on a snowy day. Yes, they were definitely curling inside her slippers. Which meant she’d trip and fall flat on her face the moment she descended from the carriage, staining her dress—which really wouldn’t be a bad thing—and probably scraping her elbows. That wouldn’t be good.
Actually, none of it would be good.
She’d be a laughingstock, and Gabriel’s brother would never take her as his wife. He’d seek out an Incomparable, a woman of elegance who spoke with intelligence and could bear him exquisite children. She, on the other hand, would be shipped off to the Farthingale country home in Coniston, left to dream of unrequited love while rambling among the fields of lavender and dense bracken, lamenting the only man she’d ever loved—Alexander, if she ever got to meet him—and how he might have loved her, if only she hadn’t fallen flat on her face at her first ball.
“... which is why I hoped you would accept. Will you, Daisy?”
“What?” She slipped her hands out of his warm grasp. “I’m sorry, were you speaking to me?” Lord, what did he just say? “I... could you please repeat the question? Actually, I’d need to hear everything you said before the question.”
He threw back his head and roared with laughter.
Eloise burst into laughter as well. “Oh, this is too, too funny!”
Daisy desperately gazed from one to the other. “What is? Please tell me.”
“No,” Gabriel said, still laughing. “You’ve unmanned me, left me mortally wounded and drowning in my own blood.”
“I have? That sounds awful. I’m sorry for my inattentiveness, but I’m sure you’ll find others at the ball more interested in what you have to say. No, no! I didn’t mean it quite that way. I’m certain you’re quite interesting when you’re...”
“Not insufferable?”
“You’re a fascinating speaker. Positively gripping. And I’m sure I would have been enthralled had I bothered to listen.” Oh, crumpets. “Please tell me what you said.”
“No, not even if my life depended upon it.”
***
“I didn’t think it possible,” Ian said, catching up to Gabriel in Lord Hornby’s crowded gaming room later that evening. “You’re afraid of the girl.”
Gabriel stifled a sigh, knowing Ian would not relent in his quest to unearth the latest gossip about him and Daisy. “What girl, Your Grace?”
“Don’t you dare Your Grace me. You’re obviously trying to avoid the question, but you can’t. I’m speaking of Miss Daisy Farthingale, of course. Could I be speaking of anyone else?”
Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t know. By the way, thank you for Desiree. She was every bit as compliant as you indicated. We passed a most pleasant evening.”
“Ah, very cleverly switching the topic of conversation. But it won’t work. I know you spent the night alone at home and not with Desiree. I’m guessing Daisy had everything to do with that surprising decision and I’m now determined to learn everything I can about the girl.”
“That’s easily remedied. Why don’t you ask her to dance?” Gabriel gazed through the double French doors into the Hornby ballroom, which was packed with revelers, the women in crisp satin and jewels, the men in white tie and black formal attire. Strains of a waltz drifted through the hallway toward them. “There she is by the door, chatting with her Aunt Julia and Lord Hornby’s insipid son, Lumley. I’m certain she’d love to be rescued.”
“Not by me. I readily admit to being too cowardly to approach any of the Farthingale girls. Can’t risk being caught up in the whirlwind of marriage.” Ian let out an exaggerated shudder. “No, very happy to observe from a distance. But you’ve actually exchanged bodily fluids with her cousin. Or rather, you were on the receiving end of his little gift.”
“Damn it,” he said, curling his hands into fists to stem his exasperation. “Three-year-old infants have accidents, and I grant you I’d be laughing heartily if it had happened to you.”
“Gabriel, I don’t mean to give you a hard time. It’s just that you seem so calm about your impending... ah, how shall I tactfully put it?”
“Doom? No chance of it. I’ve exchanged nothing but pleasantries with the girl.” That is, if one overlooked the heart-wrenching set down he’d subjected her to the first day they’d met. He still felt terrible about it.
“You’re hiding from her.”
“I am not. If anything, she’s resisting me.” Not that he blamed her.
Unaware of Gabriel’s earlier rough treatment of the girl, Ian chuckled. “What have you asked her to do?”
“Dance. She has refused.”
“That isn’t possible. She’s supposed to be chasing you and you’re supposed to be fleeing. But she’ll catch you anyway.”
Gabriel uttered a silent prayer for this conversation to end. “Neither of us is chasing and neither of us is fleeing.”
“I don’t understand,” Ian insisted with a shake of his head. “You’re cursed. You walked down that street. You’re a marked man. Your bachelor life is about to end, even though you put down a six-month deposit on a charming apartment on Curzon Street for the lovely Desiree.”
Gabriel arched an eyebrow. “Kindly amuse yourself at someone else’s expense. I do not like to be spied upon.”
“I’m just trying to protect you. Now, you say the girl has refused to dance with you?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said with a nod.
“And you asked her?”
He nodded again. “Yes.”
“Nicely?”
“I asked her very nicely.”
Ian shook his head again as though confused. “And she said no.”
“Yes, she said no. The girl is not interested in me. I bore her to tears.” Though she’d delighted him to no end on their ride to Lord Hornby’s.
Ian cast him a painful look. “This isn’t possible.”
“Now you’re the one looking like the deer about to be shot.”
“This is no jest, Gabriel. If you’re not the next victim of the Chipping Way curse, then who is?”
Gabriel grinned broadly. “Perhaps it’s you. Perhaps you were meant to walk down that street, rescue Harry Farthingale, and fall in love with Daisy.”
“Me?” Ian rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Is it possible? But I don’t wish to fall in love with her. She’s the silliest of the lot!”
Gabriel struggled to keep his hands at his sides and not circled around his friend’s throat. “Don’t you ever speak of her that way. She’s clever and warm hearted. And we’re just a pair of condescending fools who don’t deserve her notice. If you ever—”
Ian smiled wickedly. “Gad, you’re gullible. The girl is obviously delightful, but I wasn’t sure you’d noticed.” His wicked smile broadened. “It is you, after all. Thank goodness!”
CHAPTER 5
A rake enjoys a tempting morsel. A lady will permit his eye to wonder, but never his hand to wander.
IAN’S SILLY GAME had gone on long enough, Gabriel decided.
He had to put a stop to it before Ian—in a drunken slip—did or said something foolish, perhaps revealed to Daisy that he, Gabriel, had been shot while breaking up a spy ring loyal to Napoleon, not while bedding a married woman.
Yes, he had to put an end to Ian’s game at once.
Daisy wasn’t meant for him. Indeed, Eloise had assured him that the girl was mad for his brother even though they hadn’t yet met. In effect, she’d fallen in love with Alex’s reputation. Gabriel was glad of it. Indeed, he was. Alex was a good sort, proper husband material, and a viscount to boot.
He, on the other hand, wasn’t suitable at all. He had a vile reputation, fully deserved, and he fully intended to do all in his power to uphold it. Now that he was home and his wounds were healed, he meant to spend his precious days making up for lost time in the company of loose women.