“Search the trunks in the attic and find the old blue livery my grandfather preferred.”
Twenty-two
Gabby and her mother were entertaining Lady Thorne and Sebastian’s sister when the butler interrupted. He stood uncertainly inside the threshold, tossing a quick glance at the guests.
“Is something the matter, Wesley?” Mama asked.
“I don’t believe so, Your Grace. I have a message for Lady Gabrielle.”
Gabby blinked. “Oh? Has Lord Thorne sent another note?”
His mouth turned down as he eyed Lady Thorne and her daughter. “No, milady.”
Mama reached for the silver teapot and smiled politely. “Perhaps you should step out with Wesley, my dear. Lady Thorne and I have much to discuss about the wedding.”
“Of course, Mama.” Gabby caught Eve Thorne’s eye, but the lady looked away as she fidgeted with her reticule. This evening would be the poor girl’s first venture back into society since her abandonment at the altar, and it seemed her nerves were a bit frayed.
Sebastian—Gabby had finally capitulated and begun using his given name, even though it still sounded odd to her—had been exceedingly grateful to Gabby for inviting his mother and sister to tea and for agreeing to accompany them to the theatre that evening. His praise had been lavish indeed. It had been the only time during their betrothal that she felt truly good about something.
It warmed her heart to think she might be able to help Miss Thorne. And if Gabby were to be bound in marriage to the lady’s brother, she preferred to begin on good footing with his kin.
“I won’t be long,” she said then followed the servant from the drawing room, closing the door quietly behind her. “What is it, Wesley?”
“Lord Ellis is requesting a word with you, milady.”
Her stomach dropped. She hadn’t seen Anthony since the Sorins’ ball, and she hadn’t spoken with him since the night she had gotten herself into this mess with Thorne. “Where is he?”
She mentally scolded herself for sounding too eager.
“I showed him to the blue drawing room. He insisted I retrieve you or he threatened to barge in on your tea.”
High-handed man. She frowned. What could he possibly have to say that they hadn’t already discussed? A wise woman would send him away without an audience, but she wouldn’t put it past him to make good on his threat. “Thank you, Wesley. I will see what it is Lord Ellis wants. You may go.”
The butler nodded and left her alone in the corridor. She made her way to the second drawing room, stopping outside the door to rub a palm over her heart. It knocked against her breastbone, proving it still had life in it.
When she had gained composure, she yanked open the double doors and glided inside, exuding as much confidence as she could manage.
“You are interrupting a lovely tea, Anthony.”
He was standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest and a mutinous scowl on his face. “Are you truly planning to marry that twit in two days’ time?”
Her answer caught in her throat.
“And you didn’t invite me to the wedding.” He dropped his arms and strode over to her. “I have known you all your life, and I’ve been excluded from the guest list.”
A blanket of heat wrapped around her. It was stifling and too heavy. “I—I didn’t think you would want to come.”
He stood too close. His scent beckoned her closer, but she resisted. His mouth twitched up at the corners. “I don’t want you to go either.”
A shocked laugh burst from her. “It’s customary for a bride to be present at her wedding. Of course I’ll be attending.”
He cupped her elbow and drew her to him. He looked down at her through thick golden lashes, his eyes a deeper shade of blue-gray. Her lips were suddenly dry and she licked them.
He groaned under his breath. “You should be marrying me, my love, not Thorne. We belong together. Why can’t you admit it?”
Her legs quivered. Oh, how she would love to toss aside her honor and throw herself into his arms, but she couldn’t. She had made a promise to Lord Thorne, and her stance on putting her brothers’ lives before her happiness hadn’t altered.
Reluctantly, she pulled away. “I am marrying the baron. I’m sorry, but I can’t go back on my word.”
“At least have the courage to tell me the reason. Tell me you prefer him. That you love him and want to spend your life with him.”
She shook her head and took another step back. If she said those things, she would be lying.
Anthony’s hand on her stopped her retreat. Dizziness kept her from pulling away again. His touch kept her from sliding to the floor.
“Do you have any feelings for him, Gabby?”
“I—I’m fond of him.”
“Fond? Just fond of him? That is the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard from you.”
His insult snapped her out of the spell he’d woven. Her hands landed on her hips. “Yes, I like the man I’m to marry. That is more than many ladies can say.”
“You’re not like other ladies. Your heart rules you; it always has.”
And therein lay the problem. In all her memory, she couldn’t recall a time when following her heart had ever led to good.
He tipped up her chin. “How long do you think you’ll be happy when you are only fond of your husband?”
“What does it matter? Fondness is enough for now. Perhaps I can learn to love him as I—” She caught herself before she blurted out the truth.
He caressed her cheek and she fought the urge to turn into his palm. Her skin tingled in the wake of his touch. “As you love me, sweetheart? Say it. Admit you love me. It’s not too late to cry off.”
A horrible pain seized her heart. It had been a mistake to grant him an audience. She was too weak. “I can’t. I have given my word. Please, leave me in peace.”
His hand dropped from her face and she was left wanting. “Then I’m afraid you leave me no choice.”
She blinked, alarmed by the stubborn tilt of his chin. “No choice? What is your meaning?”
“Thank you for seeing me, Lady Gabrielle. This has been an enlightening conversation.”
She called after him to wait, but he stalked from the room like a man marching to war.
***
Anthony decided to join Annabelle and Miss Teague for an early dinner. He had more than a few misgivings about leaving his daughter for several days, but he’d spoken with his butler and had confidence in the man. No one would be allowed to enter Keaton Place during his absence, not that he truly expected Annabelle’s sire to show his face in London.
His bigger concern was being absent from his daughter’s life again. He was already furious with himself for hiding in his chambers these past days. He’d despised his mother for isolating and shutting him out, and yet he had done the same thing in his grief.
Hell. He’d wanted to be better than his mother, to rise above his childhood circumstances. And he would. No more feeling sorry for himself.
Annabelle and Miss Teague were already seated at the small table in the nursery when he arrived. For his daughter’s comfort, he’d thought it best to enter her territory rather than dragging her to the dining room. Annabelle clung to Miss Teague’s side as she did every time he came within shouting distance.
Miss Teague offered a smile. “Good evening, milord.” She had taken more pains with her appearance this evening, dressing in one of the nicer gowns he had purchased as part of her wages. Their arrangement involved a roof over her head until Annabelle was married, food, a decent wardrobe, a modest allowance for her personal use, and a pension when her services were no longer required.
Everything he’d done was with Annabelle in mind. To her, Miss Teague was her mother. It didn’t seem right to treat her as a servant, although jealousy from the other servants might have caused tongues to wag. How else would Thorne know about the circumstances of Annabelle’s birth?
“Miss Teague, have you any knowledge of a
nyone on staff holding a grudge against you?”
She blinked, her blue eyes clouded by confusion. “No, milord. Has someone made a complaint against me?”
“Nothing like that. I didn’t mean to alarm you.” He pulled out the tiny chair and eyed it. Oak was a sturdy wood. It would hold his weight, he hoped. His confidence faltered when the chair creaked and groaned.
The corners of Annabelle’s cupid-bow mouth turned up slightly. “Papa is too big.”
His heart leapt at hearing her refer to him without being prompted, even if she was pointing out a glitch in his plan to dine with her. He grinned. “You are an observant young lady, Annabelle.”
Her smile slid from her face and she leaned against her aunt again. Perhaps sitting on one of her chairs was acceptable, but speaking to her was not. Duly noted.
Miss Teague picked up her fork and smiled sympathetically. “She is still a bit shy, milord. Please don’t take offense.”
He shrugged it off. “I don’t take it personally.” But he did. He wasn’t proud of the fact, but he didn’t see how rejection could be taken impersonally.
Snatching his fork, he dug into his buttered carrots. His knees nearly up around his ears made eating with grace a difficult feat. Annabelle smothered a giggle with her tiny hand when he bumped his elbow and spilled on his lap.
Her green eyes sparkled in her perfect little face as she whispered something to her doll, Lady Poppy. Her reaction made him even more eager to please her, so he purposefully fumbled his fork and turned dining into quite the spectacle. He was little more than a trained bear when treated to her laughter.
At one point, she even inched toward him and glanced up in expectation. Suddenly his napkin flew off his lap, landed on his head, and rendered him unable to see. Of course, that led to more silly antics, because how was one to eat when one couldn’t see properly?
Her belly laughs were the sweetest sound he’d ever heard and filled him with expanding warmth and the insane desire to giggle too. Instead, he grinned until his jaws began to ache.
Miss Teague sighed happily as she patted Annabelle’s back. “A few more meals such as this and I’m certain she will be putty in your hands, milord. Perhaps you would like to break your fast with us tomorrow?”
His merriment faded. How could it be that he was on the verge of breaking through Annabelle’s walls only moments before he was to leave? He cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I will not be available tomorrow.”
A pink blush infused Miss Teague’s cheeks. “Of course, milord. Forgive me for being presumptuous.”
“Not at all, Miss Teague. If I didn’t have pressing matters, I would be honored to breakfast with Annabelle. This is partly my reason for coming tonight. I’m leaving town for several days, and I wanted to inform you of my absence and reassure you and Annabelle that you will be safe here.”
Her smile returned. “I’m not worried, Lord Ellis. Even if my brother knew where we were, he doesn’t have the means to travel to London.”
Anthony had suspected as much, but he appreciated having his beliefs validated. “And I should probably inform you that when I return, I’ll have a wife.”
***
Gabby’s sisters gushed over her newest ball gown as she checked her reflection in the looking glass. Her mother slowly nodded her agreement. “You look lovely, darling.”
The muted red and the off-the-shoulder style were bolder than her mother typically allowed, but Mama had reluctantly agreed. After all, Gabby was to be a married woman soon.
She wished the prospect didn’t make her want to cry.
As if sensing her sadness, Mama grew misty-eyed. “I know I must let you go, but it’s harder than I expected.”
“Oh, Mama.” Gabby went into her open arms and allowed her mother to hold her. For a moment, she surrendered to the security of her mother’s embrace like she had when she was a child. She didn’t want to leave her family either, but this was her fate. Once she spoke her vows, she would belong to Sebastian’s family.
Fear squeezed her heart. He had promised to let her visit Mama and her sisters any time she wanted. He seemed honest and kind, but what if she’d misjudged him?
Gabby clung to her mother and tried to catch her breath. Her sisters crowded around them, their arms circling her and their mother.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Katie whispered in her ear. “You will see.”
Her sister’s sensitivity nearly broke her, but she managed to quash her tears. She’d been hiding her sorrow from everyone and she intended to keep it hidden.
She eased from their embrace with a breathy laugh. “I had best gather my wrap. Lord Thorne’s carriage will be here any moment.”
Her mother pursed her lips. “Perhaps I should accompany you.”
Katie hugged Mama’s arm and tugged her away. “Now, Mama. This is Gabby’s chance to become better acquainted with Lady Thorne. Besides, you promised to play whist with Lizzie and me tonight.”
Mama sighed and smoothed a hand over Katie’s hair. “I suppose you’re right. It won’t be long until I must say good-bye to all of my daughters. I shouldn’t allow the time to go to waste.”
She gave Gabby one more hug and allowed Katie to draw her from the bedchamber.
Lizzie lifted an eyebrow as she ran her gaze up and down Gabby. “You should take a heavier wrap.”
“It’s plenty warm enough for this one,” she said as she draped the thin material around her shoulders.
Lizzie marched to the wardrobe and grabbed a wool shawl. “I sense the weather changing. You won’t be warm enough.”
“I’ll be fine.” She refused her sister’s offering and left her chambers. Lizzie followed to press her argument.
“But what if you aren’t? What if you are wishing later you had listened to me?”
Gabby was willing to take that chance.
Her sister scrambled to keep up. “Wait a moment.”
The front door creaked open as Gabby descended the stairs. “Thank heavens,” she muttered.
Sebastian’s footman stood just outside of the door, waiting to escort her to the carriage. “I must go, Lizzie.”
“Please, take it just in case.” Her sister dogged her heels outside, trying to force the wrap on her.
“Really, Elizabeth. You are being a pest.”
Grateful to escape her sister, she accepted the footman’s assistance and clambered into the carriage. The inside was blanketed in darkness when the door closed, and she hadn’t even sat down before the coach jerked, tossing her back against a hard body. A large hand clamped over her mouth as she drew in a breath to scream.
Twenty-three
“You’re safe, Lady Bug.”
Anthony tightened his hold on Gabby as she flailed on his lap. If she broke free, he would have a hell of a time keeping her safe.
The coach careened around a corner and threw them to the left. Anthony’s shoulder banged against the wall, and an explosion of pain sent shock waves down to his elbow. Righting them on the bench, he planted his feet in preparation for the next sudden turn. Gabby continued to thrash, making his task more difficult than it needed to be.
“It’s me, Anthony. Be still before we become injured.”
Her reply was muffled, but he didn’t need to understand her words to know what she thought of his surprise. Her heel connected with his shin and he dropped his hand from her mouth with an incredulous yelp.
“Anthony, what do you think you’re doing? I’m expected at Drury Lane.”
“You are missing tonight’s performance.” He loosened his grip enough for her to swivel on his lap, but he refused to release her until there was no more danger. A wheel hit a rut in the road and she slammed against his chest.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she clung to him. “Egads! Is your driver trying to kill us?”
“Once we have cleared London, there won’t be sharp turns, but we really must press on if we don’t want to be caught.”
“Where are
you?” She groped his face and her finger rammed into his eye.
He jerked and almost unseated her. “Blast! What is it with you and your kin trying to blind me?”
“I can’t see a thing. At least open the curtain so we have a little light.”
She grasped the curtain’s edge, admitting a sliver of light from the carriage lamp. He slapped her hand away before she could fling it open.
“Not until we’re out of town.”
She huffed and dropped the curtain back into place. “Where in God’s name are we going, and why must we remain in the dark?”
He managed to capture her chin and pressed his mouth to hers, partly to stop her questions, but more so because he had missed her beyond words. She held herself rigid, her lips unyielding.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered.
She laid her hand against his cheek and sighed. “Oh, Anthony.” The wistfulness in her voice called to a part of him that longed to protect her.
“I love you,” he repeated. Tenderly, he kissed the corners of her mouth, her chin, the tip of her nose, each eyelid. Her breath quickened as her hand splayed on his chest, and she leaned into his kiss. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but something kept her from surrendering.
“Please, love me back, Gabrielle.”
She whimpered softly and placed her divine mouth against his. Her sweet taste flooded his senses as her lips parted and allowed him access. Warm tingles raced over his skin. She twined her arms around his neck, and her tongue brushed against his lips.
His heart was lighter and larger with her wrapped in his embrace. Thank God, taking her had been the right thing to do. Doubt had hounded him all evening.
Gabby’s ample bottom nestled into his crotch and her lush breasts pressed against his chest as she wiggled closer. She was the perfect amount of plump in all the right places. He covered her breast and marveled at how well it fit his hand. His thumb circled her nipple until it stood erect and ready for his mouth if not for the clothes in his way. Her heart drummed against his fingertips.
She moaned into his mouth. Blood raced through his veins, causing a low rumble in his ears and a throb in his cock.
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