If—if—she were to accept Gabriel, or, at the very least, further whatever it was that was currently between them, these would be the types of women, the types of circumstances she would have to endure.
“Are you all right?” Sarah asked, placing a hand on Elizabeth’s arm, and she managed a nod. She would love, more than anything, to return home and leave this party behind, but that was not to be. For she had clients here who would find it rude, would find it odd, would say that this is what a fickle woman would do—attend such a party and then leave the moment she felt emotional or ill. No, she would remain and do what she needed to do. She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face, and began to make her rounds.
*
Gabriel sank into the broad leather chair in front of the fireplace of his study, his brow deeply furrowed in concentration as he studied the item he held between his fingers. The gold of the band glinted in the reflection of the orange flames, while the three diamonds in the center reflected a brilliant light around the dark walls of the room.
The ring had been his mother’s. Years ago, when her health began to decline, she had become too thin for the ring to fit any longer, and it kept slipping off her finger. It was then she had given the ring to Gabriel, making him promise to find a woman worthy to wear it.
It was not so much that the woman had proven difficult to find, Gabriel thought as the longcase clock in the hall chimed midnight. No, it was Gabriel himself who had not been prepared to offer it to anyone. Even when he had asked Elizabeth to marry him the first time, all of those years ago, something had kept him from offering such a gift to her. It was as though he had known that it wasn’t meant to be—at least, not at that time, at that moment. For the truth was, had they married five years ago, it never would have worked between them. He was not ready to be a husband, and he would have disappointed her at every turn.
But now… now he was sure that he could be the man she needed. He just had to determine that this was the right step to take—for both of them. For once he went down this path, there was no turning back. Gabriel refused to fail at anything in his life. Especially not at this.
He nearly jumped at the knock at the door, and he turned toward the voice of his butler.
“Your grace,” came his gravelly voice. “You have a visitor.”
Gabriel stood, confused, and shock coursed through him when Elizabeth walked through the door—alone. Never before had Gabriel felt so fortunate that his butler had been loyal to him and his family for years now. He was a man who could be trusted to keep the secrets within these walls. He nodded at him as Elizabeth took a step into the room, requested, “A towel?” and then bid him to close the door.
Gabriel then looked to Elizabeth, who remained standing there within the first few feet of his study.
“Is it now raining?” he asked.
It was a stupid question, for her entire being was sopping wet. Her hair was pressed against her face underneath a nearly ruined headdress, water dripping down the strands onto the plush deep green carpet at her feet. She looked down upon it, as well as at her now-ruined slippers and the damp folds of her silk gown, as though she was recognizing the water stains for the first time.
“Oh, dear,” was all she murmured, before finally looking up at him. “I’ve ruined your carpet.”
“Not ruined,” he clarified. “Marked slightly, perhaps. It seems you forgot your trusty umbrella this evening.”
“I am so sorry,” she said, biting her lip. “Forgive me?”
“Always,” he said, and at that moment so much more was spoken than what was said aloud.
Chapter Nineteen
He had said he would always forgive her. At least, that’s what Elizabeth thought he had meant as he watched her standing there ruining the beautiful, likely very expensive, carpet beneath her.
He would always forgive her, whereas she could not seem to find it in her heart to do the same for him—though, one could hardly compare a wet carpet to a tryst with Lady Pomfret—and perhaps others—now could one?
Elizabeth took the subtle headdress with its humble ornamentation of a few smile jewels from her head, rolling it in her bare hands, though she was aware she must look like a wet dog with her hair hanging in cloying chunks around her face. Her auburn locks were typically nearly straight, but once they became wet they sprang up into a curl that was now most likely out of control.
Meanwhile, Gabriel was the vision of perfection, slouched back once again in the wide, comfortable chair, his legs splayed, without a jacket or cravat, his shirt open to reveal the dark skin of his chest beneath it. The sight of him made her knees tremble ever so slightly, and a slow heat began to rise through her body.
She sighed. Coming here had been a terrible idea. In fact, she wasn’t sure why she had even had the idea at all, or what would ever possess her to act upon such a thought.
Gabriel crossed one leg over the other as he leaned back in his chair and casually folded his hands in his lap, perusing her. “What are you doing here?”
Elizabeth nodded. It was an appropriate question. What was she doing here? It was after midnight, and when she left Lord and Lady Holderness’ party, she should have gone directly home. When Justine had decided to leave, Elizabeth had offered to accompany her—in fact, she had more than wanted to do so; but her grandmother urged her to continue her conversations, reminding her of just how important they were. They lived not far, and Justine promised the carriage would return for her shortly and would await Elizabeth for whenever she was ready.
It didn’t take long until she was impatiently waiting for it, but the moment she was in the carriage, the thought of returning home caused a feeling of restlessness to course through her bones.
She had looked down at her hands, remembered her loss of gloves and Gabriel’s possession of them, and then determined that she must travel to his house to see them returned.
And, perhaps, they had some unfinished business to discuss.
Of course, Elizabeth wasn’t completely foolish. She had returned home and then found a hack to take her to the Duke’s house. It wouldn’t do for her driver to know her late-night whereabouts, nor for anyone to see her carriage take her there or be waiting in front of Gabriel’s spectacular Mayfair home. They might receive the incorrect impression of what it meant.
Now that she was here, standing in Gabriel’s study, with him sitting so nonchalantly in front of her, she felt the complete fool, despite her earlier conviction that she was far from it.
Just then the door opened slightly more than a crack, and the butler passed her a couple of pieces of cloth, which she gratefully took to dry her hair before removing her cloak to replace it with a towel to cover her dress. She had asked the hack to drop her off down the street so no one returning home would see her, but she hadn’t realized just how hard the rain was coming down.
“I, ah…” she cleared her throat, looking around her at the deep masculinity of the office that bespoke of the same characteristics as the man himself. “I came for my gloves.”
“Your gloves?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow, his expression causing her insides to turn to warm liquid. “Unfortunately I cannot aid you in your quest.”
“Did you not take them home?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she attempted to determine what his current ploy was. For he took every situation and turned it around to suit his own purposes. Including something as simple as when she had removed her gloves to feel the water on her fingertips.
“I did, but I gave them to my valet in order for him to have them laundered,” he said, spreading his hands wide. “So you see, you will have to wait. But Elizabeth,” he drew out the syllables of her name in that deep, sultry voice that made her tingle all over. “I could have returned them to you in the morning. Don’t tell me I now hold your only pair of which you are currently in desperate need.”
“I have more pairs,” she murmured, looking down at her hands now, which she folded within her navy blue cloak.
“Yet
you felt the need to come all the way to my lodgings in order to find your gloves.”
Oh, she wished he would stand, instead of leaning back and watching her with that smug expression on his face.
“I did,” she said with a nod, holding her chin high, refusing to back down. “For you see, your grace, I also needed you to know something. What happened at the party tonight should never have occurred. I became lost in my senses and did things… allowed things that should never have happened. I no longer want nor need any ties to you. You said you would call on me tomorrow, but the truth of the matter is that this cannot go on.”
“No?” he asked, seemingly unaffected by her words. “And why would you say that?”
“You and I are different people,” she said, all of her fears and worries flowing out now. She didn’t know if it was the late hour, or the intimate atmosphere, or the few glasses of champagne she had drunk that night in order to get through it, but suddenly all of her inhibitions fled, and her true thoughts came pouring out. “I will not discuss the past, not again, but it’s more than that. I love the bank, despite how difficult some days may be. You are a duke, and no matter what you say, your wife will have expectations placed upon her. I certainly would not meet any of them. You care nothing of what anyone thinks, but to me, it matters. It has to, due to the role in which I’ve been placed. And yet, you know that I am attracted to you, an attraction that I cannot seem to deny. Therefore, the only thing to do is for us to no longer see one another, besides during times for business and social engagements.”
He uncrossed his arms now, bringing them to the sides of the chair as he slowly began to rise and step toward her. His gaze had darkened, his expression unreadable, and Elizabeth swallowed hard. But she wouldn’t back down. She had come here for a purpose, and now that she had delivered her carefully practiced message, it was time to go.
“Good night, Gabriel,” she said, but as she turned, he crossed the room in an instant and reached out, catching her fingers in his, turning her around to face him.
“That’s not why you came here tonight,” he murmured, and her eyes widened.
“What are you talking about? Of course it is,” she said, indignant that he would so question her.
“No, that’s what you are telling yourself,” he said, still holding one of her hands in his, the other coming up to lightly stroke her face. She told herself to move back, to tell him to stop, but somehow she found herself leaning into him once more.
“Look me in the eye, Elizabeth, and tell me that you came here only for your gloves, that you truly no longer desire my company, and I’ll see the truth,” he continued. “Say the word and I will walk you to the door, say farewell, and have nothing further to do with you besides our business at the bank. But first, you must convince me, Elizabeth.”
As he spoke, he inched ever closer, his lips nearing hers, and she could feel his breath upon her cheek. He smelled slightly of brandy, but it was the musky scent of his cologne that was so distinctly him that overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes for just a moment, losing herself in the sensations that came over her just by his nearness.
Her rational thought was fighting against her instincts, telling her to do as he told her, to tell him that she must go and he should leave her be.
But when she opened her eyes and stared into the deep blue of his, they drew her in, pulling her closer, and all thought fled. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and with one hand entangled in his thick locks of midnight hair, she tilted his head down toward her and stood on her toes to press her lips against his.
He instantly responded to her invitation, taking the kiss and expertly deepening it. His tongue swept into her mouth, and she matched him stroke for stroke. Never before, even with him all those years ago, had she felt such a yearning to come ever closer to a man. His hands came around her back, wrapping the two of them more tightly together, their bodies flush against one another, his hard and unyielding.
She slipped one hand from the back of his head to place it on the opening of his shirt, over the bronze skin at his neck where her gaze had been lingering for so long, feeling the warmth of his skin on her fingertips. She moved her hands lower, trailing her fingertips along the bristle of dark hair that dusted his hard chest, and it seemed as though his breath was coming ever faster. It gave her a feeling of heady power to know she could have such an effect on him, but at the same time, it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted to see all of him, to know him as she had once before.
Elizabeth knew they could never truly be together—not in any way that would be longer than what had already come before. But she would give herself this one night. One more night to know him, to love him, to have a memory she could forever cherish.
She broke her lips away from his, unsure of how to tell him, to ask him for what she wanted.
“Gabriel…” was all that came out on a throaty whisper, but it seemed to be enough for him to understand what she was seeking.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his forehead against hers as they remained locked in an intimate embrace, their breath mingling together.
She nodded against him, feeling the hard set of his jaw beneath her fingertips.
“Very well,” he said, his voice full of smoke and promise of more to come. “But tonight, love, tonight I will show you exactly how it should be done.”
He nudged the towel off of her shoulders, allowing it to pool on the floor at their feet, and Elizabeth gasped as he suddenly bent at his knees and scooped her up in his arms, her own hands wrapping around his neck.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, to which he smiled seductively.
“My bedroom, of course,” he responded, but as he began to carry her out of the room, Elizabeth protested.
“Your servants,” she said, “whatever will they think? Can we not stay here, away from prying eyes?”
“Most are abed, except the butler, and he is as loyal as they come,” Gabriel said, clearly not concerned in the least, and for a fleeting moment, Elizabeth wondered whether this was the first time he had carried a woman through the house to his own chambers. “I can promise you, Elizabeth, the utmost privacy.”
“I am soaking your clothing.”
“It will wash.”
He paused for a moment, a thought clearly entering his mind.
“Is your carriage out front?”
“Of course not,” she said, indignant that he would even suggest she wouldn’t have thought of such a thing.
“Good,” he said, a slight smile teasing his lips. “Then we have all the time in the world.”
What he was going to do with that time, Elizabeth had no idea. When the two of them had previously come together, it was quick, hurried, with him finishing in the bushes beside them in order to “protect her.” She knew he had been remorseful afterward, which had hurt more than the actual act in itself.
Now, he carried her through his home, and Elizabeth knew that if she had to find her way out alone, she would become lost through the dizzying array of corridors and rooms within. Gabriel possessed wealth of which most people could only dream, and his London home was more expansive than many country estates she had visited.
Her heart began to beat so quickly and loudly that she thought he surely must be able to hear it as they climbed the stairs to the upper level. He strode down the carpeted hallway as though she weighed nothing, stopping in front of a door at the end of the hall. He nudged it open with his shoulder, revealing his chambers within.
As he stepped out of the corridor and into the room, he finally set Elizabeth back on her feet, and she looked around her in awe.
There was no question of the masculine feel of the room, and it bespoke Gabriel at every touch, from the dark stone surrounding the fireplace from where a dim glow fell over the room, to the dark gold drapes pulled over the windows on the wall beside. In front of them sat a writing desk, where she supposed he often worked in order to see out to the view beyond, though w
hat was beyond the curtains, Elizabeth had no idea, so turned around she was.
The canopy over the bed matched the curtains, and Elizabeth gasped at how massive it was. The ornate wood carvings within the headboard were rather ghastly, though she certainly wasn’t about to remark upon them at this moment. The thought, however, did ease her beating heart somewhat, at least for a moment.
Until Elizabeth remembered just what they would be doing upon the bed, and then she became slightly nervous once more.
Gabriel must have sensed it, for he walked over to a sideboard next to the fireplace, and picked up a glass.
“Would you like a drink?”
“You keep brandy in your bedroom?”
He shrugged. “It helps me sleep.”
Elizabeth took a step toward him, reaching for the glass after he had poured a bit into it.
“Very well,” she said, thinking it couldn’t hurt, and drank it down quickly, welcoming the burn in her belly.
He took the empty glass from her, deliberately allowing their fingertips to brush against one another, then placed the glasses back down before turning to her.
“Now, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice sending tingles down her spine. “Let your education begin.”
Chapter Twenty
What was this woman doing to him?
It was all Gabriel could do to keep himself under control, to prevent himself from tossing Elizabeth on the bed, ripping the buttons of her dress as he divested her of it, and entering her with all of the passion he had been attempting to hold back.
But that was not what a woman such as Elizabeth deserved. Nor what she would welcome, as far as he could gather.
So, instead, he had allowed a brief respite between them before he came toward her, forcing himself to be slow and tender. He brought his hands to her slim shoulders, turning her around so that her back was to him. Gabriel removed one pin, and then another from her hair, allowing the wet tresses to trail down her back. He had never before seen her hair disheveled, and it enticed him. He had imagined this moment for some time, of what it would be like to have her before him, beneath him.
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