by Meara Platt
“One learns to hold one’s own in a family as large and boisterous as mine,” she said, shaking out of the thought. “I wasn’t in any real danger from either gentleman.”
She wanted to add that his cousin, Graelem, who was now married to her sister, Laurel, had taught her to shoot and to handle a knife as well as any man. He’d also taught her several tricks of defense, none of which she’d ever use on Gabriel if he decided to kiss her.
No! She meant Alexander. She’d never use those tricks on Alexander.
Gabriel furrowed his brow. “Your family ought to have been watching over you tonight.”
“Yes, well. I’m certain they didn’t mean to neglect me and I don’t hold them responsible. They thought me capable of taking care of myself. Which I was. I dispatched one gentleman with a bloodied nose and the other with a lump on his head.”
The furrow in Gabriel’s brow deepened.
She let out a ragged sigh. “Oh, you have such an upright look about you, as though you intend to... please don’t say anything to my parents.”
“They must be made to understand the consequences of their inattention.”
“There were no consequences. I defended my reputation quite capably. If you must know, I’m partly to blame. You see, I did something very foolish about a year ago and haven’t quite lived it down.”
“Daisy—”
“No, you’ll have to ask Eloise about it, for I’ll say no more.” She turned away and sank onto a nearby bench. “Please, this evening has been a disaster and your exchanging words with those gentlemen or my family will only make matters worse.”
He followed her, perching his foot on the bench and studying her quite thoroughly while he considered her request. He must have sensed her desolation and decided against adding to her worries, for he finally sighed and said, “Very well. I won’t say a word.”
“Thank you.”
His frown returned. “Don’t. I think you’re wrong.”
“Thank you, anyway. You’ve been the one bright spot in this dismal evening, chivalrous and valiant. My very own dragon-slaying hero. My very own Saint George.”
He surprised her with a disarming smile that reached his eyes and made them gleam with the luminous warmth of the candles in the wall sconces. “I’ve been called many names before, most of them unmentionable, but never, ever have I been called a saint.”
“Gabriel, I expected my first ball to be magical and the young men I’d meet to be charming. Instead, they were boors.”
He let out a chuckle. “Ah, here you thought I was the only boor.”
His gentle humor endeared him all the more to her. “You’re not at all. In fact, I find you very charming and I’m enjoying your company immensely.”
“I’m enjoying yours, too,” he admitted softly.
She let out a bubble of laughter. “We seem to have made great strides since our first encounter.”
“Indeed.”
She gazed up at him and her eyes widened at the tender expression she saw on his face. Her heart, already beating wildly, now shot into her throat. “May I ask you a question?”
“If it’s not too personal,” he teased. “I have very delicate sensibilities.”
“What were you and Eloise laughing about earlier in the carriage? I acted so silly, an utter dolt, but—”
He cupped a hand under her chin and gave it a playful tweak. “The jest was at my expense, not yours. I tried to charm you and you weren’t even listening. I delivered a magnificent apology for my earlier behavior, short, sweet, sincere. Just the perfect balance of humility and contrition. Then I asked, no, begged you to accept my offer of a dance.”
“You did?”
He grinned painfully. “And you never heard a word. It was a humbling moment for me. Well deserved, I may add. Daisy, I’m very sorry for what I said about you the other day. I didn’t mean a single word.”
She felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Truly?”
“Truly,” he responded, taking her hands into his own.
A shiver of delight ran up her spine, which she quickly resolved to ignore. “I’m glad.”
“Good. That’s settled.” He released her abruptly and resumed the search.
Daisy removed her gloves once more, and after promising to be careful not to dirty her gown and accessories, spent the next moments scouting through the last of the soil beds with him, lifting every pot and searching in, under, and around every leaf. They found a lady’s mirror and an earring under a bench, a man’s glove and a shoe buckle among the ferns, but no sign of the necklace.
“Does your offer still stand?” she finally asked miserably. “I mean, about the dance. I’d very much like one. It’ll be the only pleasant memory salvaged from this disastrous evening.”
“Perhaps later. First, let’s find your heirloom.”
Daisy’s cheeks suffused with heat. She sputtered an apology about not meaning to force him to do anything he did not wish to do, and that he needn’t dance with her ever, or feel compelled out of politeness or by order of Eloise to endure her company.
“Daisy, I do wish to dance with you. I just assumed our top priority was to find the lost necklace.”
“It is. It’s just that you’ve been so patient and—”
“You hate to impose further on my time?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“I’ll let you know when you become an imposition. Come here, you have a smudge on your nose.” He drew out his handkerchief and stepped toward the small fish pond to moisten one edge of the fashionable cloth. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered, staring into the water. “I thought you said you looked in here.”
“I did.” She came to his side and followed his gaze. “It’s clear enough to see straight through to the bottom.”
“But you didn’t stick your hand in it.”
“No, why should I? My vision is perfect and there’s nothing swimming in the pond but two goldfish.”
He sighed and pulled his cuff up as far as it would go. “Your knowledge of science is limited. Not your fault at all, but rather the idiocy of society in restricting the formal education of women.”
She turned to him in surprise. “That’s quite forward thinking of you.”
“You sound shocked. Did you believe me to be as stodgy as the fossils who run the Royal Society?”
“Indeed, no. But neither did I expect you to hold such radical views about women and their rights to an education,” she said with a nod of approval. “What does losing my necklace have to do with science?”
“Do you see how the light plays on the water?”
She returned her gaze to the small pond and studied the movement. “Yes, it’s quite beautiful. But what are you doing?”
“Hopefully retrieving your heirloom.” He dunked his hand into the shallow water, feeling about the bottom, and finally pulling out—a miracle!
“You’ve found it!” she gasped, watching the strand of pearls shimmer like starlight between his fingers.
He laughed, obviously feeling quite proud of himself. “Crisis averted.”
She gazed at him in amazement. “How did you know?”
“I stayed awake during physics class at Cambridge,” he said with a wry grin. “Though I never expected to put the theory of refraction of light to such good use. The bottom of the pool is deeper than it looks, you see.” As though to make his point, he held up his jacket sleeve to show that even his drawn-up cuff had gotten wet. Fortunately, not too badly.
“I don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t seem enough,” she whispered in relief. She felt giddy, elated, and in danger of actually starting to like Gabriel.
“Put them in your pocket,” he suggested after wiping droplets of water off each shiny bead with his handkerchief.
“I haven’t one. This gown wasn’t designed with much fabric to spare,” she said with a wince, feeling the heat of a blush creep up her neck and onto her cheeks. Her gown had been purposely fashioned to cling in the most obvi
ous places.
“Ah, um... I see the problem.” He studied her attire, his gaze slowly drinking in every curve of her body as though he could see through the fabric. He coughed as he stuffed the necklace into his breast pocket and patted it. “I’ll hold it for the moment.”
She wondered how she might feel cozily tucked against Gabriel’s chest. However, she quickly shook out of the bumble-headed thought. “My sister, Lily, tried to teach me about physics. She’s brilliant and an excellent tutor, but we’d hardly begun before the family caught on and put a quick end to my studies.”
“Not seemly for a debutante to be spouting equations while waltzing with a dashing duke, I suppose.”
“Lest the dashing duke find her a crushing bore.” She grinned before continuing. “So I’ll have to wait until the season is over before learning more about Sir Isaac Newton and his writings. Have you read his Opticks or the Principia Mathematica?”
He arched an eyebrow. “You know about those works?”
“Surprised?”
He shook his head and smiled. “I should be, but somehow I’m not. Daisy, you are a rare young lady.”
“In a good way or bad?” she asked with a sudden pang of doubt.
He seemed surprised by her confusion. “Good, of course. I meant it as a compliment.” He sighed. “If I help you, will you do something for me?”
“Help me? With what?”
“Well, do you wish to learn more about Newton or not?”
“Yes... no... it depends.”
“On what?”
“On what I must do for you in return.” He’d found her pearls and saved her from disaster, but she wasn’t so foolish as to sacrifice her virtue for a lesson in physics. She didn’t need to read Lady Forsythia’s book on reforming a rake to know that. “What is it you wish from me?”
His brilliant smile simply melted her bones. “I wish to dance with you.”
CHAPTER 6
A lady repays a debt to a rake with no more than a polite thank-you.
THE GIRL GREW PRETTIER with every breath, Gabriel decided, offering Daisy his arm and escorting her onto the dance floor. Once in place among the other dancers, he took her gloved hand in his, and resting his other hand at the small of her back, brought her as close as he dared. “You’re trembling.”
“With relief,” she said with the softest quiver to her voice. “I’m amazed. I don’t know what to say. You saved my evening. You saved me.”
“Very heroic of me, I must say.”
“It was. Thank you... Saint Gabriel.” She smiled up at him.
Once again, he made the mistake of gazing into her vivid blue eyes and quickly found himself enthralled by their magnificent depths. He was still gazing as the music started. And as the first dancers bumped into him.
“Gabriel? The music.”
And as her soft, incredibly tempting body yielded to him.
He was going to kiss her tonight, damn the consequences.
One harmless kiss.
Sweet.
Short.
“Did you forget the steps?” she asked, reaching up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Shall I lead? We can sit this one out if you don’t feel like—”
He stopped her as she was about to pull out of his arms, and moving with the music, began to twirl her about the floor. She swayed gracefully in her white satin, following his steps with ease. Surprisingly, she was an excellent dancer.
“I’m not incompetent in all things,” she murmured, seeming to read his thoughts. In truth, he didn’t think her incompetent at all, just young and inexperienced, and at times distracted by her boisterous clan and the burdens they unwittingly placed upon her slender shoulders.
“I’m sure you are a very accomplished young lady.”
She pointed her pert nose into the air and cringed. “Oh, dear.”
“I intended it as a compliment.”
“I know, but it’s such a hideous expression. My father often describes his Aunt Hortensia that way. She’s an utter ogre.”
He shook his head and laughed. It felt nice, he admitted, to hold Daisy in his arms. “You’re not an ogre at all.”
She let out a deliciously breathy sigh. “I’m not all that accomplished either.”
“Is that so? You don’t seem the sort to butcher Beethoven sonatas or sew crooked hems.”
“Oh, but I do so constantly,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Those aren’t important talents. Kindness and generosity such as you’ve shown my grandmother throughout the years of my absence are the virtues that count.” He knew it had been a harrowing time for his entire family. They must have felt helpless, no doubt blamed themselves as they watched him earn the reputation as the family disappointment.
The dance ended and he knew better than to try to continue the conversation by seeking Daisy’s hand for another. No, he’d already caused enough damage to her reputation by choosing to partner her in this one. Then there was the time spent in the library and the conservatory, innocently of course, but vicious rumors often started with much less.
Apparently, she’d already felt the sting of gossip a year or so earlier and suffered for it. He’d ask Graelem about that incident later.
His situation was different. He’d endured the lies told about him—indeed, encouraged those lies in order to maintain his disreputable appearance. Easier to slip in and out of France without being noticed. Easier to infiltrate the lower orders, make contact with Napoleon’s agents and make them believe he would betray his country for a few shillings.
He escorted Daisy to his grandmother’s side and settled her in one of the red velvet tufted chairs beside the lovable old harridan. “Don’t let her out of your sight, Eloise.”
His shrewd-eyed grandmother glanced from him to Daisy then back to him. “I’ll watch her like a hawk,” she assured, casting him a wry smile.
He turned to Daisy, intending to issue a stern warning... Well, he’d meant to speak sternly, but his tone might have softened in response to her delightfully earnest gaze. “You’re not to leave my grandmother’s side for the rest of the evening.”
He expected mild protest since the night was young, she was beautiful, and her admirers were many. Young Albert Dawson, lean and sharp-nosed, was already circling Daisy like a buzzard awaiting his meal. “And do not talk to him.”
Daisy looked around, confused. “Who?”
He turned and stared pointedly at Dawson, who had the good judgment to quietly slink away. “Never mind, he’s gone now.”
“Oh, him. He didn’t look very pleasant. Indeed, none of these young men look at all appealing. I’ll do exactly as you say. I’d much rather spend my time with Eloise.” She smiled up at him, doe-eyed and utterly delicious. Having found her heirloom necklace, he could do no wrong, at least for tonight.
Gabriel smothered a grin, feeling quite the cock-a-hoop, for the girl had a way of making him feel quite capable and important. “Good.”
She took a little breath and wiggled in her seat. “Yes, I’ll tie myself to this chair and never leave it. I won’t give you another moment’s worry.”
Oh, he liked that little wiggle.
And the thought of Daisy tied to a chair... perhaps naked and tied to a chair... perhaps naked and aroused and tied to his...
Thwap!
Hellfire! His grandmother had caught him squarely across the back of his head with her reticule as he’d innocently bent over Daisy’s hand to bid her farewell. Well, perhaps not so innocently, he knew, struggling to subdue his body’s response. Of course, getting walloped by one’s interfering grandmother went a long way toward cooling off all lust. Lord, what had she stuffed in her reticule? A cannonball?
“Leave us, Gabriel,” the beloved harridan intoned. “Go tend to your business.”
***
Much later that evening, Daisy snuggled in a corner of Eloise’s carriage and gazed out the window into the darkness that was about to lift with the coming dawn. There was an enchan
ting stillness to the London night, something warm and cozy about the gentle rocking of the well-oiled carriage springs and the nicely padded leather seats, something appealing about the light musk scent of Gabriel’s cologne and his comforting presence.
Eloise had always been her friend.
She now considered Gabriel a friend.
Tonight, he’d been more than that, he’d been her hero. Her very own wart hero, as her young cousin, Charles, would say.
She allowed her thoughts to stray as they rode in silence.
“What are you thinking about?” Gabriel asked in a whisper.
She must have had an odd expression on her face because Gabriel hadn’t taken his eyes off her the entire ride. He’d remained seated directly across from her, studying her since they’d left the Hornby townhouse. Well, she thought he had been studying her, but couldn’t be certain because there was hardly any light in the carriage and his eyelids were half closed. Perhaps she’d imagined it and he had briefly drifted to sleep.
Eloise had fallen soundly asleep the moment they’d started the journey home. Even now, her soft snores mingled with the rhythmic groaning of the carriage wheels.
“Oh, I was thinking of many things,” Daisy whispered back, hoping not to wake his grandmother, who was bundled in a thick fox fur and almost hidden from view. “Mostly of this beautiful night and how I survived my first ball, thanks to you.”
He shook his head. “Any friend would have helped out.”
“But only you did. I hope I may return the favor someday.”
He arched an eyebrow as he shifted slightly toward her. “A good deed is its own reward.”
She let out a merry, but hushed, laugh. “You sound like a minister at a Sunday sermon.”
He gave a mock shudder. “Who me? No, I’m an unrepentant sinner.”
She was a sinner, too. The thoughts now whirling in her head while gazing at him were undeniably wicked. She’d have to speak to her married sisters about these new sensations. Or read Lady Forsythia’s book. Even though she had no intention of reforming Gabriel, what harm could there be in learning the workings of a rakehell’s mind?