by Aileen Fish
The dark red blush in Daisy’s cheeks spread across her face and neck. “Eloise, please don’t tell Mother you found me here. She wouldn’t understand, not after the warning about him. And I’ll be lectured again about consorting with him. And I didn’t even want to come here. I only meant to retrieve the Farthingale heirloom necklace that he’d tucked into his pocket for safekeeping last night after I’d lost it. But one thing led to another. As you know, your grandson can be very persuasive and I, unfortunately, seem to be very easily persuaded by him.”
Gabriel regarded her thoughtfully. “You were warned about me?”
“Yes, about your wicked ways,” she said in anguish. “I tried to keep my distance, but you made us all feel so welcome, and I... we enjoyed your company so much, especially the boys did. So did my sisters.”
“I enjoyed this afternoon, too. It was a rare moment of fun for me. The first since my recovery.”
She raised her beautiful, round eyes to him, betraying disbelief. Of course, he realized in that moment, she must have heard all about the disreputable business he’d set in motion over the past few days. Her mother must have warned her about his distaste for marriage, and damn, about his newly acquired mistress. Had the news crushed Daisy, this lovely innocent who believed in all things good? Was it possible she believed there was still some good in him?
No, to allow her to think so was dangerous.
He’d spent too many years developing his repugnant reputation, for the good of England, of course. He wasn’t about to allow the girl to undermine all his hard work. Despite appearances, the war against Napoleon wasn’t over. Though exiled on Elba, the little Corsican had just escaped. All hell was about to break loose.
Gabriel knew that the Prince Regent would turn to him first for help. He’d operated behind enemy lines for years and knew the terrain better than anyone else. He’d quietly be ordered back to France within a matter of days, before everyone learned of Napoleon’s escape, and before Parliament voted one way or the other on a renewed war effort. That vote could take weeks. Every hour lost when dealing with the French menace on the Continent was dangerous. The little general had to be stopped before he caused more trouble.
Gabriel knew he’d be receiving his orders soon. He alone couldn’t stop Napoleon’s progress, but he could track him and relay sensitive military information back to the Duke of Wellington.
He glanced at Daisy, wishing he could reveal just how much her unexpected visit had meant to him, how profoundly her good humor, her laughter and affection toward the children, had moved him. She would make too much of it, perhaps hold out hope for something more between them.
Of course, it wasn’t possible. Now, more than ever, he had to maintain his wastrel reputation. He couldn’t change his wicked ways. Marriage was out of the question, for he would not leave behind a grieving widow or fatherless child. Not if he could help it.
Not while Napoleon remained a threat.
He spared Daisy another glance, hoping to catch her eye, but she was once again looking everywhere but at him. He’d taken advantage of her last night and wasn’t feeling very proud of himself right now. She’d been so willing and irresistible, and he’d indulged at the expense of caution.
There was also the thorny matter of hearts. While hers was fragile, his had long since turned to stone. Yet this afternoon, for a few precious hours, he had felt its joyous beat, felt alive for the first time in years.
“I’ll see what’s taking the children so long,” Eloise said, making her way to the door. “In the meantime, Gabriel, I expect you to do what’s right. You owe Daisy an apology.”
“For the little consolation kiss on the cheek he was about to give me when you walked in?” Daisy asked.
“No, for the scorching kiss you thought I didn’t see last night,” she said, firing her cannonballs before blithely walking away.
Daisy, looking quite pained, stood with her mouth agape.
“Seems we were caught,” Gabriel said, lifting a finger to her chin and gently nudging her mouth closed.
“You don’t owe me an apology. I enjoyed last night. That kiss should not have happened, of course. But it was harmless enough, wasn’t it? I mean, it didn’t signify anything, certainly not to you.”
Though it had to her, Gabriel suddenly realized with concern. Lord, what had he been thinking?
“However,” she continued, “others may make more out of the incident. I suggest we never mention it or think of it again.”
“Ah, pretend it never happened?”
Daisy nodded emphatically. “Yes.”
“Very well. Consider it forgotten.” He knew it was for the best. She was a good girl, not the sort to be trifled with, and he was duty bound to be bad.
Chapter 9
Propriety and modesty, not the rake’s desires, will determine how much bosom a lady will display.
Gabriel had long ago realized that the Dayne family produced good fighters and terrible diplomats, which explained why he and his father constantly argued. If forced to do one thing, the Dayne male instinctively rebelled and did the opposite. All men in his family were that bullheaded by nature, except Alexander, who was kind and perfect, and Gabriel loved him because Alexander, though easy-going and pleasant, was no toady. He stood up for himself and had always, always, looked after his younger brother Gabriel.
They’d shared the strongest of brotherly bonds, a bond Gabriel had been forced to break in order to maintain his cover as a boozing, brawling disrepute.
However, he’d promised his mother to be on best behavior today and not ruin her quiet tea party. He regretted the concession the moment he entered her fashionable salon and found it crowded with eligible young ladies and their parents. “How are you, Mother?”
He dutifully leaned forward to buss her offered cheek. His heart tugged as he noticed the threads of gray among her blonde curls and small worry lines at the corners of her green eyes. However, she returned his smile with a warm one of her own and her eyes brightened a little as he fell out of character for a moment and hugged her. “Dear boy, I despaired of seeing you here today,” she whispered rather shakily in his ear.
He drew back and gave a little shrug. “I promised I’d put in an appearance.”
Her smile faltered. “So you did, but you’ve broken so many promises lately... I wasn’t sure. Never mind. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. Your father will be pleased to see you.”
Gabriel doubted it, for he’d done a thorough job of disappointing him as well. “Who are all these people? I thought this was to be a quiet family gathering. You and Father promised not to goad me further on the matter of marriage. Yet, you seem to have invited every eligible young lady in London. Bloody hell, even the Fribble sisters.” Those females could talk the hind leg off a donkey and he was not about to be that donkey.
“Gabriel! Mind your language.” She shook her head and sighed. “It was your father’s idea to invite them all. Go bother him.”
He didn’t have far to search, for his father had seen him entering and was fast making his way through the crowd toward him. “About time you showed up,” he said, his face set in a glower. “You had your mother worried.”
“Good afternoon, Father. I see you’ve been busy concocting your matchmaking schemes, no doubt in consultation with Grandmama,” he said, referring to Eloise. “Quite an assortment of sweet temptations you’ve gathered here, but it won’t work. I’m not in the least interested.” He glanced at Lord Fribble’s two daughters to emphasize his point. The Fribble estate bordered Trent Hall, and the families had been friends for years. Gabriel had known the girls since they were irritating children and had always done his best to avoid them.
Hortense cast him a gap-toothed smile when she caught him looking in her direction. Gwendolyn just giggled. He stifled a groan as they approached, the pair still giggling in a high-pitched titter that assaulted his eardrums. “Afternoon, Miss Fribble. Miss Gwendolyn.
Lord, save me.
“We’ve just had a lovely chat with your cousin, Lord Graelem,” Gwendolyn mentioned, batting her eyelashes at him through dull, watery eyes. “A delightfully long chat.”
“Have you?” Better his poor cousin than himself.
“Indeed.” She tittered again. He tried his best not to wince. “We persuaded him to reveal the secret to his marmalade.”
“His is always so thick and robust,” Hortense added.
“A potent swallow,” Gwendolyn agreed.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “I hear he’s growing a magnificent cucumber as well, but no one is allowed to touch it but his wife.”
His father’s glower deepened. “Gabriel! The ladies were speaking of marmalade. Ladies, you were saying that he revealed his secret.”
Hortense shook her head in dismay. “Yes, but it is all so confusing, first selecting just the right oranges and there was mention of orange rind. I can’t keep it all in my head. He promised to write down the recipe for us.”
“Then I’m certain he will,” Gabriel intoned, “for he’s a man of his word.”
“Unlike you,” his father muttered for his ears alone.
“Where’s my cousin now?” Gabriel’s gaze scanned across the elegant room filled with ornate silver, antique porcelain, and overly dressed young ladies. Daisy, in her simplicity, would outshine these stuffed partridges. “Ah, there he is. Forgive me, ladies. Duty calls, but I’ll return shortly.”
“You had better,” his father grumbled.
But he wouldn’t. To do so would only heighten hostilities and he wasn’t about to humiliate his mother in front of her friends. Though he had to remain in character as the black-sheep son, merely feigning animosity toward his father would adequately serve the purpose. There was no need to cause more of a scene by pretending to be drunk and insulting their friends.
He crossed the room to join Graelem by the window, determined to remain in moderate seclusion for the remainder of the afternoon. In any event, he needed to speak to him about General Wolcott’s letter. Though they couldn’t discuss the contents at length for fear of being overheard, they could arrange a suitable time and place to meet with the select few men who would be assigned to this impending mission.
Graelem shot him a grin as he approached. “I thought you weren’t going to show, you devil. Your mother trapped me into joining her and the ghastly Fribble sisters. Gad! Never met more boring creatures in my life.”
Gabriel followed his gaze and gave a mock shudder. “Almost got trapped myself. They give new meaning to the word ‘empty-headed.’ But enough about them. I have more important concerns right now. Can you meet me and Ian at the club tonight?”
His cousin took a step back to stare at him, then burst into laughter. “No! Keep me out of your concerns. Is that what you and Ian call your nightly adventures in debauchery? Laurel will have my hide if I’m caught with you two reprobates in tawdry evening amusements.”
Gabriel tamped down his irritation. Obviously, his cousin had mistaken the reason for his request. The purpose was business, not pleasure. Still, his cousin’s desire to stay close to home surprised him. Few married men were that attached to their wives. “It didn’t take Laurel very long to put you on a short leash.”
Graelem arched an eyebrow. “You can stop the pretense. No one’s paying attention to us now. We’re quite alone in this corner.”
“What pretense?”
“Of the dissolute bachelor. That short leash comment. Wait, you’re serious?” He scowled at Gabriel with the full force of his dark eyes. “What’s wrong with you? Did you purposely come here to insult me?”
“Of course not.” Gabriel let out a sigh. “Sorry, I’m not at my best just now. I know you’re happy in your marriage.”
“And that irks you?”
Gabriel held up his hands as though in surrender, for his cousin still appeared put out. “Your capitulation is none of my business.”
“Capitulation?” His cousin eased his scowl and slowly shook his head. “Is that what you see when you look at me? A man with the headache of an independent wife.”
“Laurel is headstrong, you must admit.” Why were they even having this conversation when matters of far more importance needed to be discussed?
“And I wouldn’t have her any other way. She has fire, spirit, and intelligence.” He glanced at the Fribble sisters. “No woman with boiled potatoes for brains will do for me.”
“Nor for me, but Laurel comes with a very large and boisterous family.”
“Ah, you refer to the Farthingale horde.” Graelem shook his head and laughed. “Yes, those relatives can infest one’s home like pests in the woodwork, but they’re not so bad once you’re used to them.”
“And you are?” Gabriel asked, surprised by his cousin’s new-found domesticity. Things certainly had changed while he’d been away. Friends and family had moved on with their lives, little realizing Napoleon was still a threat. His spy organization remained active, not only on the Continent but in England, and Gabriel had been working to destroy it. He’d been shot for his efforts. In truth, he’d been shot several times in the past three years—mostly minor injuries, but the last time had been serious.
He was still alive because of Ian’s efforts and would be eternally grateful to him for it. Ian had rescued him from the French abbey where he’d been hiding, slowly bleeding to death from his injuries. Half the French army had been scouring the countryside for him at the time, for he’d gotten hold of sensitive French military maps. Fortunately, those soldiers hadn’t quite known whom they were looking for.
If not for that, and Ian’s timely rescue, he would never have seen his family again.
He’d missed so much in all that time away, including Graelem’s wedding.
“Yes, in fact I’m quite used to the Farthingales. I particularly like Laurel’s sisters,” Graelem said, reclaiming his attention.
Gabriel nodded. “I’ve met Daisy and the twins.”
His cousin laughed. “Yes, you seemed quite attentive to Daisy during Lord Hornby’s ball. And Grandmama told me just how attentive you were in the carriage.”
Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. “Must the entire world know that I kissed the girl? I assure you, it won’t happen again.”
His cousin arched an eyebrow. “Why not? She’s charming.”
“It was a mistake.” Had his entire family been enlisted in Eloise’s matchmaking schemes? Even Graelem? “I’m not interested in her.”
“Are you certain? Because I’m sure I tripped over your tongue a time or two at Lord Hornby’s ball. It seemed to roll out of your mouth onto the ground every time you caught sight of Daisy.”
Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and glowered at his cousin. “Thank you. You’re ever so helpful. Any other inane comments?”
“Seriously, Gabriel. Don’t you wish to settle down now that the war is over?”
Gabriel relented, accepting a cup of tea and slice of cake offered by a passing servant. “That’s just the problem,” he said in a whisper when they were once more alone in their corner of the parlor. “It isn’t over. In fact, we may be in greater danger than ever from Napoleon. That’s why Ian and I need to speak to you as soon as possible. I’ll soon be ordered to return to France.”
Graelem noticeably tensed. “Damn. What has happened?”
“Can’t tell you here,” he said, glancing around and noting the curious stares he was now receiving in return.
“Oh, hell. Your father’s approaching. He doesn’t look at all happy.” He gave Gabriel a slap on the back, as though to bolster his courage. Not that Gabriel needed it, for he was used to his father’s ire. This was the worst part of the necessary pretense, sending his father into fits of apoplexy. Shaming the honorable Dayne name.
His father stopped in front of him so that they were standing almost nose to nose. Of course, he was slightly taller and broader in the shoulders than his father. Still, the man was an imposing presence. “How dare you ab
andon the Fribble sisters.”
Gabriel shrugged, forcing all warmth from his voice and trying very hard to keep his heart from aching. But the anguish in his father’s eyes, in the eyes of the man he loved most dearly, cut like a knife straight through him. “I didn’t see the point in returning since I have no intention of marrying either of them, or any of your sweet young guests, for that matter.”
His father shook his head slowly, sadly. “What’s happened to you? I used to be as proud of you as I was of Alexander.”
“By the way, how is the dashing war hero?” Lord, he’d missed Alex’s bright smile and the good times they’d shared as boys. But to reveal the truth, to give his family hope of his redemption was impossible. The deception had to be perfect or Napoleon’s spies would know he was a fraud.
He’d spent years acting the immoral dissolute to earn their trust, handing over bits of information about English troop movements that were purposely given under Wellington’s orders and with approval of the Prince Regent. If not for that hard-won trust, he would never have been able to travel to France and gain access to Napoleon’s inner circle. “I haven’t seen my brother in years.”
“You will soon. He’s returning to London with his betrothed to formally announce their engagement.”
Gabriel shook his head. “His what?”
“Surely, you remember Lord Broadhurst’s daughter, Jillian.”
“Ah, his childhood sweetheart. Good old Alex. He always was the steady sort. Loyal, trustworthy, a perfect candidate for marriage.” He was happy for Alex, but truly saddened that he’d missed those years with him as well. He was now a stranger to his family and they were strangers to him.
“I don’t understand you,” his father said, letting out a ragged sigh, “or your desire to shed all obligation and do whatever you bloody well please. I’ve kept silent and allowed you to lead your life of debauchery, believing you’d soon tire of it and that would be the end of the family crisis.”
Gabriel arched an eyebrow as though bored. “But I haven’t.”