For a long moment, he stood there staring at her as though he couldn’t quite decide whether to wring her neck for interfering, or break into a grief-stricken state of panic. Eventually, he gave a concise nod. “You’re right,” he said, turning to Amelia. “I’ve allowed a tragic experience to guide me. It wasn’t your fault, and—” his shoulders slumped with defeat. “It wasn’t mine, either.” He took a moment to catch his breath before adding, “It just happened. You and Julie have suffered long enough because of it. Especially Julie. So if you wish to have a little outing together, go ahead.”
Amelia practically squealed as she flung herself into his arms. “Oh, thank you, Raphe! Thank you so very much!”
“Take the phaeton,” he told her, “and ask a maid and a footman to accompany you.” He looked at Gabriella. “Am I forgetting anything?”
“You should be home no later than six o’clock,” she said, feeling much like the other half of a parent. “And stay on Piccadilly for today. You’ll easily find what you need there.”
Amelia didn’t wait for Raphe to change his mind. She quickly agreed to all the terms and departed with haste. “I’ll worry about them until they return,” Raphe quietly spoke.
“Yes, but you did the right thing. They’re both old enough to escape their leading strings.”
He winced at that. “I just—”
“I know,” she said as she reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “But Amelia is right. You cannot continue like this. Your sisters have their own lives to live.”
Pulling her closer, he lowered his head to hers for a quick kiss. “Thank you for helping me through it.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you for letting me do so.”
Chapter 28
“I’m hosting a ball in a couple of weeks,” Raphe told Coventry a couple of days later as the two of them shared a drink in Coventry’s study.
“Yes. I received the invitation. Thank you.”
“It’s an opportunity for me to prove my worth—to show the ton that I’m not an undeserving nobody who just walked in off the street.”
“Do any of them claim to know about your past?” Coventry asked with a frown. As Raphe had gotten to know the duke better, he’d gradually revealed his connection to St. Giles and to Guthrie. It had been a risk, but he’d known they’d never be true friends unless he shared this part of himself. And rather than be appalled by it, the duke had applauded Raphe for his “courageous achievements,” even going so far as suggesting that Raphe one day show him where he grew up.
“No,” Raphe said in answer to his question, “but I’m thinking of being honest with Warwick.”
Coventry’s eyebrows rose. “That’s quite a gamble.”
“I know,” Raphe agreed. “But he already thinks something’s amiss. He accused me of being an imposter, and assured me that he meant to uncover the truth. I think it might be better if I come clean on my own.”
The duke tilted his head. “Perhaps.”
“I know he cares about Gabriella’s wellbeing. If I can convince him of my love for her, I think I may stand a chance.”
“And if you don’t?” Coventry asked. “Is Scotland an option?”
Sinking back against his chair, Raphe considered the question. “I’m not sure. I think Gabriella deserves better than that.”
“What did you do?” Warwick’s posture was more rigid than Gabriella had ever seen it. He’d just burst into the parlor where she was having tea with her mother and aunt, and now stood glaring down at her.
“Wha—what do you mean?” she asked, her teacup rattling slightly against its saucer as she set it aside.
“Fielding just called on me,” he practically spat.
“Fielding is here?” Gabriella’s mother asked as she looked toward the door.
“He was here,” Warwick said. “And he informed me that you have cried off your engagement to him, Gabriella, and that he has agreed to honor your wishes. There was nothing I could say to change his mind. Nothing at all.”
A rush of relief sailed through her on a wave of elation even as the room was pitched into silence. It was official. Her engagement to Fielding was over. It felt euphoric!
“What. Do. You. Mean?” Lady Warwick clipped with a bite that could snap an adder’s neck in half. She turned a frosty look of disapproval on Gabriella.
“It’s for the best,” Gabriella told her parents, who looked positively furious now. “I’m tired of being pushed and manipulated into something I do not want, of having my future planned by other people.”
“You mean by us?” Warwick asked tightly.
“I’ve never been allowed to be my own person.”
“We are your parents,” Lady Warwick told her sharply. “We know what’s best for you.”
“Do you?” Gabriella asked. “Do you really?”
“Of course we do!” they spoke in unison.
“Is that why I feel like a puppet? Because you know best? For the past year, I’ve been told what to wear, who to talk to, which parties to attend, and whom to marry. You have influenced everything without ever asking me if it was what I wanted.”
A nervous laugh escaped Lady Warwick. “Of course it’s what you wanted.”
“You know that’s not true,” Gabriella told her seriously. “It’s what you wanted.”
“Yes. It was,” Warwick spoke. “We wanted to bury the lingering effects of your sister’s stupidity by aligning ourselves with the most respectable family there is. Not just for our sakes, but for yours.” His face was set like stone. “And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you run off and marry some good-for-nothing scoundrel instead, because that’s what this is about, isn’t it, Gabriella? It’s that undeserving bounder next door.”
“Careful, Papa.” Gabriella glared at her father, and as she did so, she saw his eyes widen with what could only be defined as a newfound awareness of her. There was respect there now, perhaps even a little fear, as though he’d suddenly realized that she was capable of more than just being a bargaining chip. The steel in her voice had done that, and it provided her with a sense of assurance she’d never before possessed. It strengthened her resolve and made her feel as though she was capable of taking on anything, if the prize to be won was Raphe.
“You’re in love with him,” Warwick said. “You’re in love with Huntley.” His wife gasped, as though this were the most preposterous thing she’d ever heard.
It might well have been, Gabriella decided with no small measure of resentment. “Yes,” Gabriella said. She would not deny it. On the contrary, she would shout it from the rooftops, let the whole world know now that she’d found the courage to stand up for what she believed in.
“But do you know him?” Warwick asked. “Has he told you everything there is to know about his past? About him working in the docks as a common laborer?”
“He has told me everything, Papa,” Gabriella said.
“So you are aware that he’s also made quite a name for himself in St. Giles as a bare-knuckle fighter for Carlton Guthrie?”
“Oh dear,” Aunt Caroline murmured. It was the first thing she’d said since Warwick’s arrival.
Lady Warwick crossed herself, which was rather odd. She wasn’t Catholic, after all.
Gabriella glared at her father with newfound fury. “You’ve continued with your investigation of him, no doubt hoping that you would find some terrible secret to use against him. Well, I’ll have you know that I am perfectly aware of the man he is. I know how difficult his life has been, and if you have any shred of goodness left in you, you’ll let this matter rest before it threatens to ruin the most noble and honorable man I’ve ever known.”
“Gabriella—”
“I will marry him,” she said, cutting off her aunt’s insistent voice. Her hands balled in her lap, her nails digging against her palms. “With or without your blessing.”
“Though I do believe we’d both prefer to have it,” a deep voice spoke from the doorway.
<
br /> Elation shot to the surface as Gabriella’s head whipped around to face the man who’d stolen her heart. He was standing behind the butler, about to be announced. “Huntley!” Her smile was immediate as she rose to her feet and went to greet him, dismissing the butler as she did so. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought it might be time for your father and I to have a little chat,” he said, eyes shining with adoration as he smiled back down at her. His hair was a little disorderly, but it was one of the things she loved about him—his departure from the social norm. “And there is something else,” he murmured. “Your sister wishes to make an attempt at reconciliation. For Lucy’s sake.”
Gabriella stared at him. “How can she be so forgiving?”
The edge of his mouth lifted. “Because the love she feels for her daughter is greater than her pride.” He held her gaze. “Would you like to share the news or—”
She shook her head. “I think you should do it, since you’re the one who saved her, and since my parents would never have had this second chance with her if it hadn’t been for you.” When he nodded his agreement, she turned to face her father. “Papa, the Duke of Huntley would like a word with you.”
Warwick looked somewhat uncertain. Lady Warwick scowled in an ugly manner that made Gabriella cringe. Her aunt, on the other hand, looked as though she were wishing she was twenty years younger, and available to receive Huntley’s ministrations. Gabriella couldn’t help but smile. She was well acquainted with his irresistible charm.
“Very well,” Warwick finally said. “Let us adjourn to my study.”
Chapter 29
“Have a seat,” Warwick said as he ushered Raphe into his study and closed the door behind them. Doing so, Raphe watched him go to a narrow table that stood against one wall with a tray full of carafes on it. “I’m guessing this conversation will require fortification?”
“It might,” Raphe agreed. “I’ll have a brandy, please.”
Crossing to his own chair a minute later, Warwick set a tumbler in front of Raphe before sitting down as well. “Are you aware that Gabriella is no longer engaged to Fielding?”
“Yes,” Raphe said. He chose not to elaborate, since doing so was unlikely to help his cause. Instead, he said, “With that in mind, I would like to ask you to reconsider your position regarding my request to court her myself.”
Leaning back in his chair until the leather squeaked, Warwick regarded Raphe with an assessing look. “I don’t trust you,” he said after a long drawn-out moment of silence. “According to the man I hired to investigate your circumstances, your last place of residence was somewhere in St. Giles. He also tells me that you have ties to Carlton Guthrie—a man suspected of being behind all manner of crime. Which tells me that you cannot possibly be who you claim to be. No heir to a dukedom could ever have fallen so low.”
Unperturbed by Warwick’s insistence on finding the truth since he’d been expecting it, Raphe slowly nodded. “I might be equally mistrusting if I were in your position. However, I would ask that you hear me out before making erroneous assumptions.”
Warwick’s eyebrows flattened themselves as he puckered his forehead. “I’ve always prided myself on being fair, though I must confess that my daughter has recently cast some doubt in my mind where that is concerned. It appears that she’s taken quite a liking to you.” Folding his fingers across his stomach, he tilted his head back and pursed his lips. “I’ll allow it. For her sake.”
Steeling himself, Raphe squared his shoulders and straightened his back. “The information that you’ve uncovered about me so far is true. I’ve spent the last fifteen years in the slums, just trying to get by while supporting my sisters.”
“Go on,” Warwick said, narrowing his gaze.
“My father took his own life when I was eight, leaving behind a massive debt.” He went on to tell him how his mother had abandoned them all, how he and his sisters had been forced out of their home, about Guthrie’s willingness to help them as long as Raphe paid off his father’s debt, and about his sister’s untimely death. “I know that my past will always leave a door open to scandal, which is why I concocted the story about growing up secluded in the North. I hoped it would explain our lack of finesse when my sisters and I first arrived at Huntley House. They both deserve to claim the lives they were born into.” Expelling a heavy sigh, he added, “I want you to know that I did the best that I could, under the circumstances.”
Warwick’s face remained impassive throughout the entirety of Raphe’s explanation, except for the occasional twitch at the corner of his mouth. His hard eyes held either admiration or condemnation. Raphe wasn’t entirely certain which, until the earl eventually spoke with surprising modesty. “I daresay, I owe you an apology, Your Grace.”
“There’s no need,” Raphe said. “I understand your mistrust of me completely. Especially once I realized that it wasn’t just a matter of securing an excellent match for your daughter, but that you were genuinely trying to protect her from harm.”
A shadow settled upon Warwick’s face, accentuating his age and a weariness brought on by worry and responsibility. “Her sister made an unfortunate match for herself. I wanted to make certain that the same did not happen to Gabriella.”
“I understand.”
The sympathy with which he spoke seemed to alert Warwick. He gave a snort. “You cannot possibly.”
“Which brings us to the second matter that I wish to discuss with you. Your other daughter, Victoria, has suffered a great deal at the hands of the man she married—more than you can possibly imagine.”
“How do you—”
“Gabriella received word from her recently.”
“I wasn’t aware.” Warwick’s eyes filled with emotion. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Because she knows how angry you’ve been and because Victoria asked her not to.”
With a tortured breath, Warwick seemed to lose whatever strength he’d had left. He slumped against his chair and spoke to his desk. “I was heartbroken. And yes, I was furious, though mostly at Connolly. He took advantage of Vicky and of me in the most despicable way possible.” He gave a rough shake of his head as he lifted his gaze to meet Raphe’s. “I did the only acceptable thing, considering the circumstances. I made certain that they wed.”
“He abandoned her, though,” Raphe said, watching the color drain from Warwick’s face, his lips parting with horror. “He took all the money you gave him and left her to fend for herself, pregnant with his child.”
“Dear God.” The whispered words sounded like a mournful prayer. “She should have come to me. Why on earth wouldn’t she do so?”
“Because of pride and fear, I suspect.”
“But I’m her father.” Warwick’s voice finally cracked. “In spite of everything, I love her. Good Lord! How hard it must have been for her, how terribly difficult and terrifying and—” He got to his feet. “I must go to her. Tell me where she is, please, so I can find her and bring her home.”
Raphe stood up as well. “She is safe, my lord. I brought her to my own house.”
Warwick’s gaze darted to the door with wild emotion. “And the child?”
“Her daughter is naturally with her. But, before you hasten over there to see them, we ought to discuss this matter calmly.” When Warwick looked unwilling, Raphe said, “I took the liberty, at her request, of ensuring an annulment of the marriage. It was granted on the basis of Connolly’s false pretenses.”
“So she is free?”
“Yes.”
The tension in Warwick’s shoulders dissipated. “I don’t know how I can possibly thank you.”
“There’s no need. And besides, you might want to wait with your thanks until we’ve discussed Victoria’s future. You won’t like this, but considering the scandal that her return to Society would likely incur, being an unmarried woman with child, I made her an offer that she has chosen to accept.” He then told Warwick about Ben and the caretaker position in Glouc
ester, complete with the cottage for the two of them to live in.
“This friend of yours is willing to take on the responsibility of being a father to another man’s child?”
“He loves her, and she loves him. They would like to have the chance to spend their lives together without the ton’s scorn.”
Warwick sank back down into his chair. He expelled a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say. Frankly, I am humbled by the thoughtfulness and the consideration that you have shown toward my family.” Raising his gaze to Raphe’s, he took a moment to look at him before saying, “If you wish to court Gabriella with the intention of marrying her, you have my blessing.”
Joy bloomed in a rush of warmth, filling Raphe to the brim. “Thank you, Warwick.” He stuck out his hand as the earl got to his feet once more. They shook on their newfound respect for each other, and drank a toast to the future. Misty eyed, Warwick nodded. “My wife will be speechless when I tell her.” He chuckled slightly, then paused. “When can I see Victoria again? And what about Mr. Thompson? I should like to make his acquaintance if he and Victoria are to be husband and wife.”
“In an effort to draw the least amount of attention to ourselves, I believe a joint trip to my estate in Gloucester might be the best way forward. There, secluded from the prying eyes of Society, you’ll have the privacy that you, and more importantly, she, needs. Victoria wants to reconcile, but don’t expect her to rush into your arms. There’s still a lot of pain and resentment there, and she’ll need both patience, understanding, and remorse from you and your wife if you’re ever going to repair the relationship that I presume you want to have with her.”
“I was a blind fool to put the opinion and high regard of others ahead of my own daughter’s happiness. I never should have forced her to marry Connolly once I realized the sort of man he was. I should have found a different way, a better way, without sacrificing Victoria like a pawn in a chess game.”
A Most Unlikely Duke Page 27