by Louise Allen
‘Certainly I will.’ Her slanting smile carried promises and threats. ‘Provided you make Caroline a good husband.’
‘I have every intention of doing so.’
‘I am sure you have. But is your definition of a good husband the same as mine, I wonder?’
Gabriel had told himself he was not going to be riled by her, that her wariness of him was more than understandable, so it was a surprise to find himself snapping back. ‘As we all know Cris is a paragon of all the virtues, so I doubt anyone else can reach his level of perfection as a husband.’
He deserved a snub for that remark, he knew, not to provoke Tamsyn into laughter. He assumed an expression of mild enquiry, accompanied by one of his better sardonic smiles, as Cris said, ‘Now what is amusing you, my love?’
‘Gabriel considers that you are a paragon of all the virtues and must be making me an absolutely perfect husband.’ Tamsyn was mopping her eyes with her napkin.
‘And am I not?’ Gabriel had never seen that tender look in the ice-blue eyes before.
‘You are coming along very nicely, my lord,’ Tamsyn said primly. ‘Constant practice is, of course, required.’
‘As with everything,’ Cris observed. ‘I must confess myself deeply flattered by your opinion, Gabriel. On the other hand, if I was certain you would know a virtue when you saw one, I might be more complacent.’
‘Gabriel has many virtues,’ Caroline said hotly. ‘I beg your pardon, Lord Avenmore, but I will not sit by and have him abused.’
‘He is teasing me,’ Gabriel said, and then, when she still looked unconvinced, added, ‘Male friends do, you know.’
‘It is true,’ Tamsyn put in. ‘You must have observed it. The fonder they are of each other, the more objectionable they become. Men are not good at showing their emotions. Look at them—they both look thoroughly uncomfortable now.’
‘As Gabriel appears to have finished his breakfast he and I can go and be uncomfortable together and leave you two to the full and frank exchange of your emotional states while you discuss arrangements for the wedding.’ Cris got to his feet. ‘Bring the coffee pot, Gabe, and we will retreat to the library to lick our wounds.’
* * *
‘I have known you for years, yet when you look like that I still cannot read you,’ Cris observed as they settled into the chairs facing each other on either side of the library fireplace. ‘I have no idea whether you are delighted that your hand has been forced or appalled that you have to do the honourable thing.’ He took a mouthful of coffee. ‘Which is why I never play cards with you except for coppers.’
‘I am neither,’ Gabriel said. Strange that he did not resent Cris’s probing, but then he and his three friends had never had secrets, not about the things that really mattered. Certainly not about the wounds they all carried from long ago. Except the one thing that he never, ever, talked about. ‘I am simply content with the arrangement. I should marry because of the title and Caroline is perfectly eligible if one discounts her appalling father. I like and admire her. There is a certain basic mutual attraction.’
‘Yes, one can see that.’ Cris’s lips twitched.
‘I believe her reluctance is because she knows my hand is being forced. I made the mistake of attempting moral blackmail when I was desperate for her to agree. However, she is now resigned because I am, apparently, considerably better than the alternatives on offer.’
The twitch became one of his friend’s rare grins. ‘The more I see of Lady Caroline the more I approve of her.’ He filled his cup and watched Gabriel over the rim. ‘So why are you merely content, given that you are definitely attracted?’
‘You think I will make any kind of a decent husband? Leaving aside this scandal, my reputation is not going to be any help to her. If we’re received I’ll squire her about, of course, but I’m hoping she’ll be happier in the country bringing up the children.’
‘This is not really about your reputation, is it?’
‘I always thought you were a loss to the legal profession. You should be making some poor soul’s life hell on the witness stand, not interrogating me.’ Gabriel leaned across to take the coffee pot and stayed silent until he had drunk the fresh cupful. ‘But, yes, you are right, of course. Damn it, Cris, I have no idea how to be a decent husband. I’ll be kind to her, look after her—that goes without saying. But neither of us were brought up to know what a happy family looks like. Her father is a self-centred obsessive, you know that. And then he hit her.’
‘Does she realise how much you have in common?’ Cris asked.
Gabriel shook his head. ‘And she won’t.’
‘She will when she sees your back. Or has she already?’
‘Not yet.’ He moved uneasily as though the pressure of the chair back might chafe the old scars into active life again and shifted the subject. ‘How do you do it, you and Alex and Grant? You all make your wives happy.’
‘Love,’ Cris said simply. ‘It is a novelty for men raised as we were. For most aristocrats, I suppose. But we married women who understood about love and family and warmth, I suppose. Do you love Caroline?’
‘No.’ Gabriel was certain about that. He had no idea what loving a woman in the emotional sense would feel like, but he was very certain he would know it if it happened to him. It had changed his friends and he was the same man that he had been before Caroline had erupted into his life. Absolutely the same.
‘Does she love you?’
Lord, I hope not. The thought of hurting Caroline appalled him. He would try his best, but he felt he was embarking on a journey with no road maps, no compass. ‘I told you. She’s resigned to marrying me, but that is all.’
‘If you want my advice, and you probably do not, tell her about your family.’
‘You mean so she can conclude that I will turn out like my father and flee screaming?’ Gabriel enquired.
‘You never would. You wouldn’t be worrying about it if there was any danger of that.’
‘What a comfort you are,’ Gabriel retorted to cover the fact that, yes, it was a comforting thought. ‘I hardly recognise you.’
‘I know it. It must be the effects of marriage. What do you say, shall we see if Alex can join us and we’ll have a bachelor night out on the town?’
‘Perfect. I’ll call in on him on my way home.’ He got to his feet, but stopped at the door. ‘Did I tell you I found a new hell just off Hill Street?’
‘I am not playing cards with you! Have you any idea how expensive wives are?’
Gabriel was still smiling when he collected his hat from Benson. Thank heavens for my friends. ‘Would you give my compliments to Lady Caroline and tell her I will call tomorrow? I imagine she is closeted with Lady Avenmore at the moment.’
He tipped his hat to a rakish angle, pulled on his gloves and sauntered along King Street, passing Almack’s with a faint shudder. Yes, thank heavens for his friends. There was no one else he could talk freely about his demons to, no one else he would admit weakness or anxiety to either. Certainly none of those things were to be discussed with a wife, a woman who needed only his strength and his protection, not his doubts and fears and secret nightmares.
* * *
‘Madame Fleur, this may be a quiet wedding, but I can assure you it will be an important one,’ Tamsyn said with a steely determination that sent a shiver down Caroline’s spine. It looked as though it was having a similar effect on the modiste who stood in the middle of Tamsyn’s bedroom surrounded by what appeared to be the entire stock of her shop, a number of half-finished gowns and several twittering assistants.
‘You are being given the opportunity not only to provide the wedding gown for the new Countess of Edenbridge, but her entire wardrobe. And to demonstrate that I was right to select you to dress me exclusively,’ Tamsyn continued.
The calculatio
n was plain on the dressmaker’s face: upset a number of clients who were waiting for gowns or seriously displease the Marchioness of Avenmore and lose the publicity surrounding what might well be the most talked-of wedding of the summer.
‘But of course, my lady.’ Madame rose to the occasion, gathered up her tape measure. ‘My hesitation was merely while I acquainted myself with Lady Caroline’s colouring and style. If you would condescend to disrobe and to stand here, my lady, we will begin. The entire wardrobe, you say?’
‘Everything except a court dress. That can wait,’ Tamsyn said, brushing lightly past the fact that one might never be needed.
* * *
Two hours later Tamsyn was still talking of lists as they descended the stairs. ‘Millinery, shoes, stockings, corsets, lingerie, ribbons, hairdresser...I need more paper. I will go and jot all this down while I think of it. Why don’t you go and have a rest in the drawing room for a while? Do ring for the tea tray.’ She swept on, leaving Caroline feeling like a wilted nosegay in her wake.
‘Never mind tea, I need brandy,’ she murmured as she walked into the front reception room.
A young man clutching a leather portfolio rose to his feet. ‘Lady Caroline? Benson said I might wait for you in here.’
Sandy hair, green eyes, half a head shorter than Gabriel and not yet twenty. ‘Are you by any chance Mr Louis Stone?’ she enquired, holding out her hand to him. At last, a glimpse into Gabriel’s home life.
‘Yes, I am.’ He peered at her myopically. ‘We haven’t met, have we?’
‘No, Gabriel described you. I was just about to take tea. Will you join me, Mr Stone?’ She rang the bell, then gestured to the sofa and sat down beside him so that he did not have to squint across the room at her. ‘I am delighted to meet one of Gabriel’s family at last. Are you in London permanently?’
‘No, just for the vacation. I go back to Cambridge at the beginning of October for the Michaelmas term,’ he explained. ‘But I am staying with Gabriel for the moment and helping him as much as possible.’ He was flushed with earnest enthusiasm and Caroline was reminded painfully of Anthony, even though Lucas was almost a young man. ‘I finished today’s tasks, so I have come to see if I could be of any assistance to you, Lady Caroline.’
‘Caroline, please.’ She smiled at him, liking his earnest manner. The contrast with Gabriel was almost amusing. ‘We will be brother and sister very soon.’ He grinned at her, suddenly a student and no longer the earnest man he was trying to be. ‘Tell me how you assist Gabriel.’
He talked readily, even when the tea tray had been brought and he had to juggle cup, saucer and a plate of cakes.
Why, he worships his brother. This was far from the distant relationship that Gabriel’s few references to his family had left her imagining. ‘Do you see much of your brothers?’ she asked. ‘I have not yet been to Edenvale and I am looking forward to that very much. I imagine you all get together there as often as possible.’
It was as though he had brought a shutter down over his face. Louis said stiffly, ‘No, not often. Ben is with his regiment, of course, and George has his parish and Gabriel avoids the place like...I mean, he prefers London. I usually visit friends during vacations, but this summer Gabriel has started teaching me about the estates so I have seen much more of him.’
‘Tell me more about Edenvale,’ she encouraged him. ‘Gabriel has hardly mentioned it. It must hold wonderful childhood memories for you.’
This time the shutters positively slammed down. ‘I was never very fond of it. I have written to Ben and George and I have every expectation that they will be able to come to the wedding. Can I help with anything here? Place cards, perhaps? I have a good hand.’
So what on earth was wrong with Gabriel’s country house that he avoided it? And it certainly seemed to hold no good memories for Louis either. Yet Gabriel had made no mention of any problems to her and she assumed that was where they would go after the wedding. It occurred to her abruptly that the subject had never even been discussed.
There was no point in pressing Louis, nor should she. ‘I am certain Lady Avenmore would be delighted if someone took on that task. The marquess’s secretary is already loaded down with all the work we are finding for him. Ah, here she is. Lady Avenmore, may I present Mr Louis Stone, Gabriel’s youngest brother. Louis, the Marchioness of Avenmore.’
Louis made a very proper bow and shook hands and they all sat again while Caroline explained about his offer of help and Tamsyn accepted gratefully.
‘Lord Edenbridge, my lady.’ Benson ushered Gabriel in.
‘Tamsyn, Caroline.’ He stopped halfway across the carpet. ‘Louis? What are you doing here?’
‘I came to offer my assistance as I have completed everything you left me.’
‘Have you indeed? And you have made yourself right at home, I see.’ Gabriel cast a jaundiced eye over his brother’s crumb-strewn plate.
‘We are very glad to see him, and I am delighted to make his acquaintance,’ Caroline said. ‘We were just talking about Edenvale.’
In the silence that followed she thought she could hear her own heart beating.
‘What about it, exactly?’
‘I was just saying that I couldn’t tell Caroline much because I hardly ever go there,’ Louis said.
‘I don’t even know where it is,’ she added in an effort to ease the strained atmosphere. ‘I am looking forward to seeing it very much.’
‘We will drive over when we are in Brighton,’ Gabriel said with no marked enthusiasm.
‘We are not going there for our honeymoon, then?’
‘Brighton, yes. Edenvale, no. It needs work doing to it,’ he added. ‘I thought you would like Brighton. Have you been before?’
‘No, never.’ And I know a No Trespassing sign when I see one. ‘I am sure it will be delightful if this weather holds.’
‘It looks set fair. Excuse me, I must go and discuss wine with Cris. Make yourself useful here, Louis, and I will see you for dinner at Mount Street.’ He paused with one hand on the door. ‘I have asked Cris to be my best man. I wondered if you would like Alex to give you away, Caroline.’
‘Oh, yes, I would.’ He nodded and went out as she said to Tamsyn, ‘I cannot think of anyone better qualified to soothe a nervous bride’s nerves.’
‘Are you nervous?’ Louis asked, then blushed violently. ‘I do beg your pardon, I am sure that is the sort of thing one does not ask.’
He was so charmingly dismayed that she laughed. ‘It is merely the scandal, that is all.’
‘The scandal? You know about...?’ His voice trailed away. ‘Oh, you mean the scandal about the elopement. If you will excuse me, I will go and find Lord Avenmore’s secretary and offer to help with the place cards.’
‘And what was that about?’ Caroline asked Tamsyn whose bemused expression must be a match for her own. ‘What scandal?’
‘I have no idea. You will have to ask Gabriel.’
‘No, Gabriel has enough to worry about. If he wants me to know, he will tell me.’
‘You are very trusting. Anyone would think you were in love with the man,’ Tamsyn said slyly. ‘Have another cake.’
Chapter Seventeen
‘Deep breath, chin up.’ Alex said, settling her hand more firmly in the crook of his elbow. ‘You look ravishing, you’ll bring Gabriel to his knees, every man in the place, including the vicar, will want to run off with you and all the ladies will be green with envy over your gown.’
If the laugh that escaped her was shaky it did release some of the tension, which was presumably why Alex was laying on the flattery with a trowel. ‘Thank you,’ Caroline said, answering the intent, not the words.
‘Off we go then.’ Alex set off at a slow walk for the head of the stairs, then paused for her to lift the hem of her skirt a little an
d get a grip on the spray of cream-and-pink roses and ferns she carried.
At the foot of the great sweep of staircase the household staff were arrayed in formal ranks and, as she came down the final curve, Caroline could see heads turning in the drawing room. Goodness knew what strings Cris and Alex had pulled, what wiles Tess and Tamsyn had employed, to get such a number of guests there. And such influential ones, too. Two Patronesses of Almack’s, the Swedish ambassador and his wife, one ancient duke, a marquess, a scattering of countesses, an archdeacon...
Tess had briefed her about each and every guest and it had all fled what passed for her brain now the wedding was actually happening. She had hardly slept last night, tossing and turning with nightmare visions of everything that might happen to stop it—her father appearing with a shotgun, the archbishop refusing the licence, Gabriel coming to his senses. And when she had fought all those phantoms down she was racked with worry that it would happen and that the marriage would be a disaster and—
‘Breathe,’ Alex murmured as they entered the drawing room. For a second her knees turned to jelly and then she looked up through the gauzy veil and saw Gabriel standing at the far end of the room. He was a stranger, a well-groomed gentleman in a beautiful tail coat and silk breeches, his hair fashionably cropped, his expression severe. And then he saw her and everything was all right. She had no idea what tomorrow might bring, but here, now, the man she loved was smiling at her, was, against all convention, holding out his hand to her, and she was conscious of nothing more than his voice speaking the vows, the warmth of his grip, the caress of his lips as he put back her veil and kissed her.
‘You make a very lovely countess,’ Gabriel said as they processed back between the rows of guests.
‘It is this gown.’ She was walking on air now in her pretty French kid slippers, ready to believe he thought her lovely as the cream silk whispered behind her, as the tiny crystals and pearls caught the light and sparkled like snow in summer, as the diamonds he had given her flashed defiant fire at her ears and throat, wrist and in her hair.