Clearly, whatever this stranger’s identity, he was at a level or two above her partner. Brightman took a half step back from her as if the more dominant wolf had arrived to lay claim on the choicest sheep.
“We have not been introduced, Your Lordship,” Brightman said, his voice quavering. “It is a masque and the Lady’s face is covered.”
A pair of hard gray eyes skimmed over her, both insulting in unspoken tone and sending an unnerving feeling through Sarah. She took an instant dislike to the stranger.
“Indeed,” said the man in black. He touched his tongue to his bottom lip. “She is a mystery.”
Sarah wanted to slap the smug smirk off his face.
“And she has promised me the next dance,” a gruff voice came from behind her, rising just above the din, and without a trace of politeness in the tone.
Sarah felt a hand close over her elbow. Before she could turn her head to see the source of the comment, she was rudely whisked off toward the dance floor. She had to all but run to keep up with his long strides.
“Sir, please!” She tried to dislodge her arm without drawing too much attention, but his grip held fast. It was when she was spun about and pulled into a pair of strong arms, and she caught his spicy scent, that she realized that it was Gabriel who’d spirited her away.
Exasperated over the rough handling, she gritted her teeth and spat out, “Must you be rude? I was having a perfectly pleasant conversation with the man in black.”
The lie soured in her mouth, but she wasn’t about to tell her overbearing husband that she was relieved with the rescue.
Gabriel’s grip tightened as the orchestra struck up a waltz. “The man in black is Lord Pembrook, the worst sort of scoundrel. He is not the sort with whom my wife should associate.”
Was there a touch of jealousy in his words? Likely not. He’d have to care in order to feel that emotion.
She dragged her gaze over him and admired what she saw. It was impossible not to. Dressed in black himself, but for an azure blue waistcoat, Gabriel was drawing more than a few feminine stares; not just hers.
Despite the mask, his handsome face was hard to hide completely, and his fine form was enough to set several fans fluttering as eyes followed him everywhere.
The proprietary envy was her curse, not his. She did not like the attention he was getting.
“If left up to you, husband, I would associate with no one outside of your family,” she snapped. Her patience was at an end. “I may have lived a mostly solitary life in my cottage, but I did occasionally manage to see a friendly face in the village.” He whirled her around the floor. When she trod upon his toes, drawing a masculine grunt, the misstep was not entirely accidental. “If my social interactions were left up to you, I’d be spending many hours counting the clock ticktocks while staring at the ceiling.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “Mother promised to introduce you to a few friends, and you will be formally launched at the Hollybrooks’ ball. After, you will not have a moment to yourself. The invitations will come at an alarming rate.”
“The ball is two weeks away and I am still fearful of being thrown into such a large crowd for my first foray into society,” Sarah countered. “Noelle, Laura, and I thought it best for me to try out my lessons under the protection of a disguise.”
He expelled a harsh breath between gritted teeth. “And neither you nor your conspirators thought to ask my opinion before you snuck off like a thief in the darkness?”
Her spine tingled. “I did not sneak off. You were informed that I was spending the evening with Noelle, and I am.”
“You left me believing that you were having a quiet visit at home,” he said tightly.
“I certainly did not,” she said. “You assumed as much.”
For a moment, they fell silent. Gabriel expertly managed the waltz, despite years of little practice. Sarah’s second and third toe-trod were accidental. Still, she offered no apology.
They did not speak again until the dance ended. His glare kept another potential partner at bay. The poor man took one look at her angry partner and scurried away.
“You have not explained your presence here, Gabriel,” she said. “Are you seeking out a new mistress?”
Before their argument drew attention, Gabriel led her to the patio and into a quiet corner. He ignored her accusation. This did not reassure her.
“From now forward, if you wish to go out, I will escort you. I’ll not have you wandering loose without supervision. You have only recently become my wife and your lessons are incomplete. We’ll not risk your reputation on your ill-conceived whims. Mistakes will embarrass both you and my family.”
Ill-conceived whims? Embarrass the Harringtons? Fire burned through her. She faced him squarely and tapped her toe.
“I am not a slobbering idiot,” she ground out. “I can make polite conversation, manage proper fan waving, and am well-schooled in how to use the correct spoon . . . though I do loudly slurp my soup and wipe my mouth on my sleeve. Thank goodness they are not serving soup at this ball or I would shame the Harringtons down to their collective toes.”
Was that a smile beneath his mask?
Sarah wanted to slap it from his face.
“Now you are being silly,” he said. “I have never seen you slobber.”
“Silly, impulsive, and an embarrassment?” Her voice rose. She crossed her arms. “You forgot plain, dull, improper, and impertinent. Is there anything I missed?”
“Sarah.”
“No.” She held her palms up and open. “You have not spent enough time with me since our wedding to dare make an opinion about my nature. However, I certainly know you. You are arrogant, boorish, and rude. You think only of yourself and nothing about the feelings of others.”
“You have discovered all this about me in a matter of days, have you?”
“I have,” she snapped. “Given another week, I should have a full list of your faults by which to confirm my conclusion.”
Full of fire, she wanted to continue the argument but thought the location less than ideal. Instead she turned on her heel with the intention to leave him cooling his toes alone on the patio with her sarcasm ringing in his ears.
He had another idea. With a quick grasp of her arm, Gabriel spun her about and jerked her into his arms. She gasped as his mouth slammed down over hers.
Heat rushed into her body as he forced apart her lips and plunged his tongue into her mouth. Her shock turned to passion with a moan, and then shifted quickly to anger. How dare he give her a first real kiss after insulting her with his cutting words? How dare her body respond with interest when her mind was so outraged?
With a shove, she pushed back. He released her. “Do not ever kiss me again,” she said through gritted teeth and stalked away.
* * *
Gabe waited until Sarah was out of hearing range and chuckled. Not ever kiss her again? Ha. Their kiss, as brief as it was, had been delightful. Her passion, peaked in part by her outrage, had certainly made his body take notice.
When had his wife become such a termagant? This had to be Noelle’s influence. Yet, he found that despite her newly discovered desire to ruffle him up, there was something intriguing about having a wife who looked him squarely in the eyes and spoke her mind.
And Sarah had spoken her mind, quite elegantly in fact; without stammering, blushing, or looking at the floor. Who knew she was such a perceptive young woman. He was arrogant, boorish at times, and the other things she cast at his head.
He’d proven them all tonight. For good reason.
Finding his wife at the ball had raised his ire. Seeing her speaking with Lord Pembrook had both angered and alarmed him. Sarah was far too innocent and trusting to see through to the black heart of a man like Pembrook. Too many innocents had fallen to ruin in his bed.
Then, another thought came to min
d. Perhaps he’d misjudged Sarah. She’d discovered courage, or perhaps she’d had it all along and just needed to bring it to the fore. And she was intriguing in her costume. The weight she’d gained suited her. She no longer looked like a starved chicken.
There was no reason for her not to draw male interest. She was both lovely and interesting. Despite her accusation, he’d never found her dull or anything else she’d claimed.
He truly needed to pay closer attention to his bride or he would lose her to another man. Fire burned in his stomach at the idea of another man kissing, and bedding, his wife.
The taste of her lips had stirred him. What other interesting things might he discover in his blossoming rose?
Gabe grinned. He should take her home and work some of the sass out of her, in his bed. However, he wasn’t quite ready to press the issue. He wanted to give her more time to gain solid footing, for although she’d set him in his place and did not flinch away from his touch, he suspected that she was not quite ready for the intimacies of marriage. If he pressed her now, it might be a repeat of their wedding night.
The best he could do was to tempt her, tease her, and wait for her to come to him. She had kissed him in his bath. It was the first sign of affection that she’d shown him. He wondered how long it might take her to find her own way to his bedroom.
* * *
Noelle’s face was concerned when Sarah returned to the ballroom. She took Sarah’s hand. “Was Gabe cross with you?”
Sarah nodded. “He was.” She peered over her shoulder. Gabriel was not in sight. “He was not pleased with my presence here and told me so.”
“What did you say?” Noelle asked. Mister Blackwell stood nearby, talking to a tall man in a red coat.
“I told him that I was not about to sit inside Harrington House and collect dust. I should be allowed to test my wings in this setting and did not need his permission to do so. I also called him rude and arrogant.”
Noelle rubbed her palms together. “Brava, country mouse!” she exclaimed then lowered her voice when several pairs of eyes turned in their direction. She pressed her gloved hand over her mouth, her eyes amused. “I am certain that your husband was not pleased to have his wife argue for her freedom . . . and insult him, too.”
Sarah scanned the crowd and caught a brief glimpse of Gabriel entering the room. Just as quickly, he vanished again in the crush. “Truthfully, I am not sure what he is thinking. We argued and then he kissed me. Hard. It was no chaste kiss.”
Amber eyes widened. “He kissed you?” She reached out and drew Sarah back to the wall and out of earshot of a group of women lingering nearby. “He really kissed you?”
A slow smile tugged up the corners of Sarah’s mouth. “He did.” She flushed as heat crept up her body. “It was no innocent kiss. My body still hums from it.”
“What then did you do?”
“I told him to never kiss me again.”
Bubbling laughter spilled from Noelle. “You did not?”
“I did.” A moment of worry overcame her and her smile faded. “Did I do the right thing? What if he takes my words to heart and never tries another kiss?”
“Nonsense,” Noelle interjected. “You have just issued him a challenge that he, as a man, will not be able to ignore. He will be driven to kiss you again and again.”
“Truly?” This was an intriguing turn.
“Yes, truly. As I explained before, men do love to chase women for sport. They are hunters. It’s in their blood. If we make it too easy for them then they get bored and turn to more challenging prey.”
Prey? “You make it sound calculating.”
Noelle patted her arm. “Not in the least.” She glanced over at Mister Blackwell. “I did not like Gavin when we first met. I wanted no part of him, but he was a bold man. He would not accept my indifference. Now we cannot be apart.”
As if feeling their eyes on him, Mister Blackwell turned, and seeing their stares, he winked at Noelle. It was a simple gesture, yet enough to draw a smile from his wife.
Sarah let her gaze drift over the crush. Gabriel was taking a very long time to return to her.
Could he be angry still? She had rebuffed him. What if he went off in search of more amiable female company?
It took a minute to finally spot him near the dance floor. Her fear was confirmed. Clinging to his arm was a woman dressed in a scandalous ice-blue dress, cut obscenely low. She wore the mask of a cat covering the upper half of her face.
Gabriel bent to speak intimately to her and she laughed, leaning forward to give him what Sarah suspected was a fully unencumbered view of her large breasts.
Heat crept up the back of her neck.
“Rest easy, dearest,” Noelle said, tightening her grip on Sarah’s arm. “He knows you are watching. Ignore the display. If he is like the rest of the Harrington men, he will not find the brazen offering of her wares enticing when he has a wife who holds his interest.”
While doing her best to follow her friend’s advice, Sarah pretended disinterest. After a few minutes, Gabriel dislodged the tart from his arm, sending her into a pout. He glanced toward Sarah, and she quickly looked away before he could see her staring.
This business of enticing her husband was headache inducing. Why could he not adore her madly and end this game?
She hated that she was not naturally passion inspiring. That she was just ordinary. No expensive gown or fashionable coiffure would turn her from mouse to swan.
“Stop that at once, Sarah,” Noelle snapped. “I can see your wavering confidence on your face. You are letting your insecurities take over your mind.” She darted her eyes about. “Smile at the man in the gray coat.”
“What?”
“Smile at him,” Noelle commanded. “Now.”
Sarah smiled at the stranger. He stopped abruptly and was almost hit from behind by a matronly woman in a pink gown. Within minutes, Sarah was squired out onto the dance floor, the stranger’s compliments on her beauty filling her ears.
How he found her beautiful when she was masked was beyond comprehension. Still, it did lift her spirits to be considered so, even if it was nothing but empty charm.
With Noelle’s encouragement, Sarah danced for the next hour with several partners. Occasionally, she noticed Gabriel watching her from his place near the wall, his eyes drifting over the heads of several changing companions as he seemed more interested in her than whatever conversation was going on around him. When she partnered with a young man so handsome that he made her eyes ache, Gabriel glowered. Yet he did not approach.
She managed to hide her satisfied smile. She stepped forward to her partner and was twirled about.
Gabriel had not danced. She was certain that it was not from lack of effort from the women of the company. Every woman, from young misses newly launched from the schoolroom, to women well past the blush of youth, paraded past him in a steady line of fluff and satin.
Not that he’d noticed.
Politely, he had rebuffed them all, appearing content to sip spirits and watch her.
She shivered under the intense heat in his eyes. She felt hunted, just as Noelle predicted.
And she was content to be the subject of his attention, though she tried not to find so much pleasure in such. Perhaps Noelle was right. She held his interest. For now.
The night grew late when Noelle was no longer able to hide her yawns behind her fan and Mister Blackwell pronounced it time to get his wife home to bed.
They left the ballroom to collect their wraps when Gabriel appeared. “I think I can manage to get my wife home safely, Blackwell,” he said. Gavin nodded. Noelle and Sarah quickly exchanged kisses on both cheeks and said their good-byes.
“I will see you tomorrow,” Noelle said.
Sarah nodded and they exchanged a pair of satisfied smiles. She whispered, “I still have much to learn.�
��
Gabriel took her elbow and ushered her out into the night. He said nothing, leaving the sounds of chatter from the departing guests to fill the quiet between them. After she was settled into the Harrington coach, she leaned back against the squabs and shook out her skirt.
The weight of his gaze drew her eyes up to his. She could not read his mood from his expression.
“Did you enjoy your first ball, Wife?”
“I did,” she said. “Very much.”
He rested his chin on his bent hand and let his eyes drift over her. “You managed to snag several admirers.”
Her brows went up. “Did I? I did not notice.”
Teeth flashed in the dim light as they passed slowly down the street. “You not only noticed, my dear Sarah, but took pleasure in flaunting the attention.”
“I think you misread my politeness for something more,” she replied, lifting her chin. Inside she was pleased he’d noticed. “Though, I cannot speak for the men.”
“They were besotted,” Gabriel assured her. “I must take comfort in knowing that you were in masque. Had your identity been discovered, the Harrington town house would be besieged by eager bucks on the morrow.”
Heat crept into her cheeks. “You speak nonsense.”
“Do I?”
“I am not the sort of woman with whom men become ‘besotted,’” she said. “I believe men are easily taken by a new face; even one that is masked. Had they a chance to meet me in another setting, the outcome would have been different.”
He watched her for a moment before speaking. “You see yourself as plain?”
She shook her head. “I am practical. I do not consider myself plain. I consider myself as average, not above other women. Were I not Albert’s sister, and we had met at a society event, you would never have noticed me.”
Chapter Ten
Gabriel wanted to argue her point but knew she was correct, and he felt like a cad for being so superficial. Had they been introduced at a ball or party, he would have politely spoken to her for a few minutes then excused himself and gone off to find a stunning beauty to spend the rest of the evening dancing attendance to.
The Wife He Always Wanted Page 11