by Amelia Grey
Gabrielle stood near the fireplace in the drawing room, sipping her second cup of afternoon tea. Brutus lay on his big pillow, so deep in sleep he was snoring, and other than the sound of the crackling fire, the house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Her aunt was spending the afternoon with a friend. Her father, knowing his solicitor was working on dissolving her first engagement and planning the particulars for her second, had left for his hunting trip, thus continuing his tradition of never being in residence when Auntie Bethie was visiting.
Gabrielle had probably thought more about Lord Brentwood in the past five days than she had about Staunton the entire six months she was engaged to him. It had crossed her mind that she could quite possibly see Staunton at Lady Windham’s party tonight. It wouldn’t bother her one bit to see him and talk to him. She had wondered why he hadn’t done the expected thing and approached her father about marrying Rosa, but it could be that his father had put a stop to that.
Should she let him know she knew about him and Rosabelle, and she would help them in any way she could in dealing with their fathers? Though at present she had very little clout with her father and absolutely none with Staunton’s, so her help might be limited.
When Gabrielle wasn’t thinking about the dashing Lord Brentwood and his dog, her sister was on her mind. Rosabelle hadn’t come out of her room since the morning she came running into the book room to ask if what she’d heard about Gabrielle’s broken engagement was true. Gabrielle had tried several times to talk to her, but she would either pretend to be asleep or pull the covers over her head and say she was too ill to talk.
And while Gabrielle had enjoyed having her vivacious aunt all to herself since their father left, she knew it wasn’t good that Rosabelle was avoiding her. Gabrielle had a feeling it was because her sister was riddled with guilt. Even though there was only thirteen months difference in their ages, Rosabelle had always seemed much younger.
Rosa was highly emotional and way too impetuous at times. Gabrielle knew she had to take some of the blame for that. Since their mother died, they had been raised mostly by governesses, and Rosabelle had often let her fears and insecurities surface. Gabrielle always took up for Rosabelle and sometimes even took punishments for her.
Perhaps their lives would have been different if their mother had lived or even if Auntie Bethie could have spent more time with them. But neither their aunt nor their father had wanted that. Auntie Bethie had tried to persuade Gabrielle’s mother not to marry the duke. The duke never forgave Elizabeth for her intrusion.
Gabrielle knew she couldn’t let Rosabelle continue to brood in her room. Her sister was carrying a heavy burden, and Gabrielle had to lighten it for her. She cared too much not to. And she needed to tell Rosa about Lord Brentwood before she heard about him and Gabrielle from someone else. So if Rosabelle wouldn’t come to her, Gabrielle would go to Rosa.
She placed her tea cup on the silver tray and looked over at Brutus. If she tiptoed out of the room, maybe she could get out without waking him. He could no longer make it up the stairs, and she hated for him to wait for her at the bottom rather than on his comfortable pillow by the fire.
Gabrielle went up to her sister’s room and entered without knocking. Rosabelle turned from the window by her bed where she stood still dressed in a white long-sleeved night rail in the middle of the afternoon. Her long blonde hair didn’t look as if it had been combed in days.
Her red-rimmed eyes searched Gabrielle’s face, and she blinked rapidly for a moment. It struck Gabrielle that her sister seemed frightened. Her gaze suddenly bounced erratically around the room, like a mouse cornered by a cat. She was looking for a place to run but couldn’t see how to get past Gabrielle.
“I didn’t hear you knock,” Rosabelle said in an accusing tone.
“That’s because I didn’t.”
“You should have. That wasn’t very mannerly of you.”
“I know, but I knew if I announced myself, you would either pretend you were sleeping or tell me you didn’t feel up to seeing anyone, as you have claimed for the past five days.”
Her sister’s shoulders and chin lifted in a show of courage, though her face was marred by fear and anguish. “I’m not pretending, Gabby. I haven’t been feeling well.”
“If you need a doctor, I will get one.”
“No, no, it’s not that serious. I’ll be fine.”
“When? Later today? Tomorrow? Next week?”
Rosabelle’s bottom lip trembled. “I-I don’t know. Don’t press me about this.”
Gabrielle walked farther into the room and shut the door. “It’s so unlike you to be ill for so long and to spend so much time in your room. I’m worried about you, Rosa.”
Her sister turned back toward the window. “Don’t be. I just need for you to leave me be.”
Rosabelle had always been one to run from her problems rather than face them, deal with them, and get over them. This time, Gabrielle couldn’t allow her to do that. Rosa had to admit what she’d done so she could begin to forgive herself and move past it.
“The time for leaving you alone is over,” Gabrielle said firmly. “I’m not going away until you tell me what is wrong.”
“Oh, Gabby, I can’t tell you. I’ve done something absolutely wretched, and I’m dreadfully sick about it. You’re the last person I want to know about this.”
“Tell me. I can help.”
Keeping her back to Gabrielle, Rosabelle rubbed her arms as if she were chilled. “No. I can’t. I don’t even know how to explain it so you would understand.”
Gabrielle’s heart broke for her sister. She knew exactly how Rosa was feeling, because she had felt the same way when her father kept asking her why she was in the viscount’s arms. Some things just couldn’t be explained. They could only be felt.
Gabrielle took hold of her sister’s arms and forced her to turn and face her. Fresh tears brimmed out of Rosabelle’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
“What do you mean I wouldn’t understand? Have you ever known me not to?”
“But this is different. You don’t know what I’ve done.”
Gabrielle led Rosabelle over to the slipper chair and gently sat her down. Gabrielle knelt down in front of her and took Rosa’s cold hands in her own. It was difficult to see her in this much pain. It would be so easy to just tell her she knew what she had done, and she forgave her, but somehow Gabrielle knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. Rosabelle needed to confess what had happened between her and Staunton.
“Look at me, Rosa. Have I ever given you reason to think you can’t trust me?”
She sniffled. “No.”
“Am I such an ogre to have caused you to think you can tell me things and I wouldn’t understand?”
“No, but if you knew, you would hate me, and I couldn’t bear that.”
Gabrielle squeezed her hands. “Didn’t I understand when we were younger and you pushed me into the pond and I got soaking wet and I caught a chill? Didn’t I understand when you failed to finish your schoolwork and I gave you mine so the governess wouldn’t punish you?”
Fresh tears left the pool in her eyes. “I can’t, Gabby. This is so different from childhood pranks or silliness. Don’t make me tell you.”
“I must. You cannot continue to hold this inside and let it fester, or you will continue to be sick.”
“But what I did is unforgivable.”
Another tear fell from the edge of her eye. Gabrielle reached up and wiped it away with her thumb. She smiled. “No, it’s not. Whatever has happened, or whatever you’ve done, you are my sister, and nothing could keep me from loving you. Nothing is unforgivable.”
“I-I love Staunton, and he loves me,” she blurted out, and then jerked away from Gabrielle’s grasp and hid her face behind both her hands and sobbed brokenheartedly.
Gabrielle gave a quiet sigh of relief. Now she could say, “I know, Rosa.”
Rosabelle took in a deep breath and let out
another sniffle. She slowly took her hands away from her damp face. Her wet blue eyes were wide with surprise.
“You know?”
Gabrielle nodded.
“How? When? Did Staunton tell you? He promised he wouldn’t say a word to anyone.”
“No, he said nothing to me. I only recently found out, and how doesn’t matter.”
“We tried to keep it from you and our fathers. I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, Gabby. We didn’t want it to happen; it just did, and I didn’t know what to do. I’ve tried to stay away from you these past few weeks so you wouldn’t see in my eyes how much I loved him.”
“I knew you were withdrawn but thought you were just sad because I was leaving to have my own home. Thank you for telling me the truth. All three of us would have lived miserable lives if the marriage between Staunton and I had taken place. I never should have let Papa arrange it for me in the first place, but at the time I thought it was the right thing to do. I knew I had no loving feelings for him, but I thought perhaps they might develop after we married.”
Rosabelle’s eyes widened. “I don’t know how you kept from loving him, Gabby. He’s the most handsome and dashing man in London! We didn’t fall in love until after you were engaged. Once we did, I was so miserable, but I didn’t know what to do.”
Gabrielle smiled and touched Rosa’s cheek with the palm of her hand. “I can understand that. All that misery is behind you now. You and Staunton can bide your time through the winter and, when the Season arrives next year, you two can meet fresh and make your plans to wed.”
“Do you think our fathers will let us marry?”
“Why wouldn’t they? They both had reasons for wanting a union between the two families, and those reasons haven’t changed. I’m sure Staunton will tell his father you are the lady he wants to marry, and it will be handled.”
Concern etched its way into Rosabelle’s features. She raked the backs of her hands across her cheeks and dried them. “I had thought I would have a note from him by now, but I haven’t heard a word from him.”
“I’m sure it’s just that he doesn’t know what is going on in this house, and he’s waiting until things settle down. He doesn’t know I know about you two. And, Rosa, no one will ever hear about it from me. He probably doesn’t want to contact you for fear someone would find out about the two of you.”
Rosa threw her arms around Gabrielle’s neck and hugged her tightly. “That’s what I thought, too. Oh, Gabby, you are the most wonderful sister a girl could have.”
Gabrielle pulled away and looked at Rosa while she brushed her hair away from her face. “And you are a wonderful sister, too; don’t ever forget that.”
“I won’t. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“There’s something else I need to tell you.”
“Oh, please tell me something wonderful, Gabby. I want to hear some good news.”
Gabrielle rolled her shoulders and cleared her throat as she thought about what she needed to say. “No, it’s not wonderful news, but you need to know, anyway. A few mornings ago I was in the park and had a chance encounter with Viscount Brentwood.”
“I recognize that name. The Brentwoods are twins, right?”
“Yes, but they also have an older brother who is a viscount. Anyway, I was walking Brutus, and he had his dog. The short of the long story is because we were seen together in the park, our names are now being linked together.”
Rosa’s brows drew together in confusion. “Linked together as in possible matrimony?”
“Yes, there is that possibility for my immediate future.”
“So that is why your wedding to Staunton was canceled?” Her brows drew together as if she was confused and then suddenly widened in shock. Her mouth fell open. “You were with another man while still engaged to Staunton.”
Gabrielle lifted her chin and said, “It wasn’t a planned meeting but, yes, that’s what happened.”
“Gabby, how could you do that to Staunton?”
A rueful chuckle passed Gabrielle’s lips. She would have loved to say, “Because, my dear, I saw Staunton kissing you.” But she couldn’t find it in herself to be that cruel and tell Rosa everything that happened that morning was because Gabrielle had seen her and Staunton in a passionate embrace.
“And now I know you and Staunton love each other, I see how it has worked out for the best. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, of course.”
“So don’t be bothered if you hear rumors about me and Lord Brentwood. We are handling everything quite well.” Gabrielle rose to her feet and inhaled deeply. “Now, Auntie Bethie and I are going to Lady Windham’s party tonight. I would love it if you felt up to joining us.”
“A party tonight? Oh, no, I couldn’t. Please don’t ask it of me. I’m ghastly tired, as I haven’t slept in days.” Her eyes welled with tears again.
“All right, but if you don’t feel like attending the party, at least come help me decide what I should wear.”
“How can you do it, Gabby?”
“What?”
“Be so strong. Be so sensible about everything. I would never go in public again if my wedding were canceled or if I thought there would be rumors about me.”
“At first, I didn’t want to go, either. Auntie Bethie told me I had to treat the canceled wedding as if I were riding a horse. When a horse throws you, you are supposed to immediately get back on and ride him. She said I must go out again, and the sooner the better. I know she’s right. I would be much happier to just stay inside or flee to the country until next spring, when I could start all over, but that would only put me running away from my problems, not facing them. I don’t want to run away from anything.”
As Gabrielle said those words, she realized for the first time they were true.
She had made a horrible mistake in kissing the viscount, but she wasn’t going to let that one lapse in judgment keep her from going forward with her life. Her father had left London, so she could no longer work on persuading him that she and Lord Brentwood shouldn’t marry. That left Lord Brentwood, whom she hoped would be an easier target than her father.
Since he would be at Lady Windham’s tonight, she would put her plans into action. She had only a few weeks at most to convince him she was not the lady he wanted to marry.
Eight
Do not look back in anger, or forward in fear, but around in awareness.
—James Thurber
A nervous fluttering attacked Gabrielle’s stomach as she entered Lady Windham’s house with her aunt later that evening. The spontaneous jitters had nothing to do with her dreading cold stares or unflattering comments whispered about her or her broken engagement. This wouldn’t be the first time she was the topic of conversation. People felt a certain familiarity that came with being the daughter of a powerful duke. Some were not only comfortable but believed they were justified in talking about her. Gabrielle had never minded.
Her fluttery feeling was because she knew she would see Lord Brentwood again tonight. She had paid special attention to her appearance, selecting a long-sleeved, high-waisted velvet gown of the palest pink that went perfectly with her golden-colored hair. A single strand of pearls circled her neck, and a delicate teardrop-shaped pearl dripped from each ear. Her hair was swept up into a loose chignon and circled by a band of pearls.
Lord and Lady Windham’s house was bright with the yellow glow of candles and oil lamps. Their home was one of the largest in Mayfair, and any event hosted by them was a grand affair. They spared no expense with food, drink, or the guest list whenever they gave a party. The house was buzzing with the constant strum of lively music, raucous laughter, and the chatter of conversations.
In the large foyer, the attendant helped Gabrielle and her aunt take off their velvet cloaks. From where she stood, Gabrielle could see into the drawing room and down the corridor. She quickly scanned the area to see if she could catch a glimpse of Lord Brentwood. When she saw no sign of him among th
e crush of people spilling into the rooms, she relaxed a little.
“Tell me, dearest, how are you feeling now that you are here?” Auntie Bethie asked her.
Gabrielle turned to her aunt, who was dressed in a puce-colored gown adorned with three flounces on the skirt and the sleeves. An elaborate necklace of gold and garnets was fastened around her neck, and large garnets were clipped to her ears. In her red hair, she wore a comb that had been festooned with ribbons and short-cropped pheasant feathers.
Long ago, Gabrielle had learned how to adapt and to accept whatever situation she was in at the time, so she gave her aunt a smile of confidence and said, “I feel exceptional, Auntie.”
Her aunt’s dark brown eyes gleamed with happiness. “That’s what I wanted to hear. You are doing the right thing, my dear, by coming out to the parties. When a person shies away from Society, it’s natural for people to think it’s because they have something to hide.”
Gabrielle pursed her lips and thought on that. “I suppose you are right.”
“I know I’m right. Now, who are those two young ladies I see standing over by that clock, trying desperately not to let me know they are trying to get your attention?”
Gabrielle laughed softly as she caught sight of her two friends motioning for her to join them. Fern Crenshaw was a lovely red-haired young lady who had married right after the Season ended and was blissfully happy with her new husband and the baby that was expected next spring. Babs Whitehouse was a voluptuous golden-haired beauty and an outrageous flirt who had turned down more than three offers for her hand this past Season. She was constantly admonishing Gabrielle for her prim and proper ways.
“No doubt they are eager to hear what has been happening in my life.”
“I’m sure they’ve heard the gossip their parents have brought home to them, and they are ready to hear the truth from you, should you decide to divulge more of it to them than you have to me.”
“Never, Auntie,” Gabrielle said with a sly smile.