She cast her mind back over the preceding days, trying to understand what had made him draw away from her so. None of it made sense, but she kept coming back to the moment when she had thanked him for saving her, up in the hills. It was almost as if those words had somehow insulted him, or demeaned him. But that was surely silly – why would someone object to being thanked?
They moved on in the market, and came to the local painter’s shop, where Primrose had learnt how to make paints with local ingredients. She determinedly pushed all thought of Gabriel aside, as they went in – she intended to learn more, and to buy significant supplies to take home for her future painting.
The day went past pleasantly, and, for whole minutes at a time, she managed to not think about Gabriel, and the distance between them. By the time they returned to the villa, she had regained much of her confidence in the world.
<<<
Gabriel smiled as he signed the papers, his signature joining those of Raphael and Señor Pérez.
The agreement they had reached was better than Raphael had originally expected, and Gabriel suspected that Señor Pérez had given them greater concessions that he otherwise might have, in part to compensate for his son’s actions. Now, Gabriel would be free for the remaining days of their sojourn in Las Palmas – free to explore.
He sighed. What value was there in being free to explore, if he could not do so with Lady Primrose? And he could not. Not unless he could manage to bridge the distance which had grown between them. A distance which he laid at his own door. For he had not been there when she had needed him, had barely arrived in time, twice – and whilst she had uttered words of thanks, he was certain that she had done so only for politeness.
The distance between them changed nothing in regard to his feelings for her – but then, that had always been hopeless, and he had known it from the start. He was a common born merchant, and she was a Duke’s daughter – that he had let himself forget that for the space of a few weeks, had let himself kiss her, and behave as if there might be more of that in the future, was unmitigated foolishness. And now, with the events of the last few days, he was painfully aware that she had been threatened with physical harm, only because of her association with him, with the business that his family did. He could not consider allowing any closeness between them, if doing so brought her into danger.
So perhaps it was best that he did not try to bridge that distance, after all – if he got used to it now, it would hurt less, when they reached London again, and she became swept up in the society of the ton – who looked down upon his lowly origins, no matter how much they valued the goods he imported for their pleasure.
He would try – try to remain aloof, to not hunger for her kisses, or the touch of her hand. But it would be, perhaps, the most painful thing he had ever faced. For her safety, he would do it – her safety mattered more than his own heartbreak.
He sanded the page, and gently blew the ink stained sand away, before handing it to Señor Pérez. It would be copied overnight, that they might each have a signed copy.
As they left the room, going towards the main parlour, and a celebratory drink, Sera and Lady Primrose came in through the front entryway. At the sight of her, his mouth went dry, and his heart pounded. Today, she looked bright and happy again, for the first time since the attack up in the hills. He drank in her appearance, until she turned a little and saw him.
Their eyes met, and something passed across her face, some flicker of emotion swiftly repressed. He tore his eyes away, unable to bear it, afraid that, if he continued to look, she would see his feelings writ clear on his face. He followed the others to the parlour, and soon, they were joined by Señora Pérez as well. As luck – or perhaps lack thereof – would have it, Gabriel found himself seated on the couch beside Lady Primrose.
Her scent surrounded him, and he could feel the warmth of her, mere inches away. The fall of her skirts brushed his leg, and his mind went back to their journeys up into the hills, to the moments when their fingers had intertwined, hidden beneath her skirts.
Sera accepted a drink from the footman, and smiled at Raphael.
“I gather, from the drink I have just been handed, and the smile on your face, that the agreement has been concluded?”
Raphael nodded.
“Indeed it has, to everyone’s satisfaction. Now, I am free for the remainder of our stay here, to spend my time with you – you will have to show me all of the interesting things that you have discovered.”
Sera laughed, shaking her head.
“I don’t think that you will want to see everything – for some things, like a traditional paint factory, are not really the sort of thing that entertains you. But maybe some of the beautiful locations nearby… a drive, perhaps?”
“Whatever you wish – after all, this trip was supposed to be for our pleasure, as well as business.”
They spoke for a little longer, about where they might go, with the Pérezs offering suggestions, and Gabriel envied his brother in that moment, deeply. He wanted a relationship like that – with Lady Primrose, if he was honest with himself – but he knew that he was unlikely to get what he wanted. Unable to help himself, he turned to look at her – and discovered her watching him. This time, when their eyes met, he forced himself not to look away. If what he found in her face was rejection, so be it – he needed to know.
There was no rejection – not directly – but what he saw was confusion, and hesitation, as if she wanted… No – that was his foolish hope speaking, not practicality. She smiled, and her face seemed all the more beautiful for it, but he could not bring a smile to his own lips in return. What was she thinking? She studied him, the smile fading, and a small frown creased her brow. He waited, feeling lost, and she gave the tiniest of shrugs, then looked away. It was a dismissal – one that he had expected, yet hoped not to see.
Then, she lifted her glass, swallowed the last of her drink, and spoke softly.
“I believe I will go and rest. All of that walking has tired me. I will join you again at dinner.”
She set the empty glass down, and slipped her hands from her hips, down and under her skirts, lifting them a little as she rose. Her fingers, as she did so, ran along the side of Gabriel’s thigh. Heat bloomed in their wake, and breathing became difficult, so much so that he emitted a tiny gasp.
She turned, as she reached her feet, and gave him another smile – this one full of challenge, then raised an eyebrow, before departing the room.
What had that meant? He did not know. Once, he might have assumed that her touch had been very intentional, that her expression was almost an invitation, to find a way to see her alone. But now… now he had no idea of her intent.
<<<
The final days of their stay on the island passed all too fast, and Primrose found herself discontent. Even while she drew and painted frantically, desperate to capture as much of the place as she could, she missed Gabriel. He was right there in the villa, but he might as well have been a world away.
She had hoped, when, after her visit to the marketplace, she had dared to run her fingers along his thigh, that he might seek her out – but it seemed that the barrier between them only grew greater.
And yet he watched her, and, when he did meet her eyes, there was an aching longing there – a longing she shared. How could she convince him to talk to her, to kiss her, to go back to the easy way that things had been between them, for that magic few weeks?
Now, on the last day of their stay, she was no closer to an answer to that question. Sera and Raphael had gone out for the day, as had Señor Pérez and his wife, leaving the house empty of all but the Pérez’s maids, footmen, the Cook, Mary, Raphael’s valet Garrett, Primrose, and Gabriel. The servants were virtually invisible, enjoying a day with little required of them.
Primrose wanted to find Gabriel, to confront him about his aloofness – but fear held her back.
What would she do if he rejected her?
So, to rel
ax, and hopefully gather her courage, she decided to go to the bathing room, and soak in the heated water. She would lie there, and think, would come up with a plan which might break through the ridiculous wall which had grown between them. She gathered up her things – a drying cloth, her hairbrush and pins, her precious French milled soap – and went downstairs.
She opened the bathing room door awkwardly, her hands full, stepped in, and turned to push it closed. When she turned back, already beginning to step forward to cross the room, she was brought to an abrupt stop.
Hands clasped her shoulders, stabilising her as she almost fell.
Gabriel.
It would seem that he’d had much the same idea as her.
She looked up into his face, and, for a moment, it was as if the distance between them had never existed.
Without any conscious thought, she closed the last inches between them, her bathing things still clasped in her arms, and rose to her toes, bringing her lips to his.
How she had missed his kisses! He moaned, and his lips moved against hers, returning the kiss with a hunger which sent quivers through her core.
Then, just as happiness began to bloom within her, he pulled back, pushing her away from him.
“I apologise. I should not… I will leave the water for you.”
With that he spun away, lifted his bundle of things from the bench, and was gone from the room.
Primrose sank onto the now empty bench, her things spilling unregarded from her arms, and a half-sob escaped her.
That kiss said that he still felt the same, but his words, and his action in leaving the room, said otherwise.
How could both be true?
Chapter Eighteen
The Morton Heritage had been loaded with all of the goods that Raphael had purchased from Señor Pérez, and with their trunks – now greater in number than when they had arrived, swollen with their personal purchases. Primrose had two extra trunks – one filled with paint making ingredients, and one with all of the smaller canvases which she had completed, carefully packed so that they could not rub against each other. The larger canvases were individually wrapped, and had then been strapped into bundles, protected on each side by a flat panel of timber.
Now, Primrose stood on the dockside, as they bid Señor Pérez and his wife farewell. Beside her, Gabriel spoke affably about how well the visit had gone for all concerned, despite the drama caused by the actions of Señor Pérez’s son. But he did not look at Primrose – had not done so all morning, as they had transferred from the villa to the port. The memory of that kiss, yesterday in the bathing room, ran repeatedly through Primrose’s mind – and the question she had asked herself then still begged an answer.
She felt hurt, and was beginning to feel an increasing degree of anger. Stubbornness made her ever more determined to break through his aloofness, no matter what it took.
Finally, they boarded the ship, and Primrose was relieved to discover that an extra, tiny cabin, immediately beside the one which she had been allocated, had been set aside just for the storage of her extra trunks and the canvases. It felt odd to be on the ship again, almost as if the four weeks on Gran Canaria had been a dream, as if no time had passed, and all would be as it had been before, once she went back up onto the deck. But she knew that was an illusion, knew that everything had changed, and mostly for the worse.
She arranged things to her liking, then took her pencils and a journal, and went up on deck. She spent the remaining few hours until the tide turned capturing studies of the sailors at work, and the view along the island shore, as the light changed. Gabriel was nowhere in sight, and she tried to convince herself that it was for the better, that she did not wish to see him, if he was going to ignore her. Her heart insisted otherwise.
She felt the moment that the tide turned, in the movement of the ship, and watched as the sailors scrambled to ease her out of the port, following the run of the tide, until they fully raised sail, and swung her about, turning away from the island, and towards the open sea. Then Primrose turned her eyes back to the island, and sketched it again as the afternoon light cast long shadows, throwing the ravine into stark relief, where it ran up into the hills above the town.
Immersed in her drawing, hurrying to capture the scene before they were too far from shore, she barely noted the sound of footsteps behind her.
Until they stopped.
And the scent that was uniquely Gabriel’s surrounded her.
Her heart skipped a beat, but she did not turn, forcing herself to simply continue sketching. She knew that he watched.
<<<
Gabriel had intended to stay well away from Lady Primrose, from the temptation of her lips, of her beauty – of the look in her eyes – but he had failed. Somehow, without any conscious choice, he found himself walking towards her, where she stood near the rail, sketching frantically as they drew away from shore.
He stopped behind her, and a little to one side, in a position which allowed him to look over her shoulder and watch the magic of her drawing render the island faithfully on the page. Her skill never failed to take his breath away. She must have known that someone stood there, yet she did not turn. Perhaps, the thought whispered through his mind, because she knew it was him, despite not having looked?
He ached to touch her, yet he knew that he should not. The only way that he would be able to stand it, when they returned to London, was if he kept his distance on the way back. He had been a fool to think that he might have anything lasting with the daughter of a Duke – and the events on the island had proven to him that, just by being associated with him, and his merchant activities, she had been put in danger. It was better that he not dream foolish dreams.
He would not do anything which might result in her being harmed.
The minutes extended, the ship moving steadily faster as the sails caught the wind, and the island receding, until it was too small in the distance to see any detail. Lady Primrose sighed, closed her journal, and tucked it and her pencil away in her pockets. Before he could step back, to allow her space, she turned, a rapid spin on the spot, which brought her face to face with him in an instant, as if she had intended to prevent him from moving before she faced him.
Her eyes met his, and the world faded away, he was drowning in their blue green depths, everything else unimportant. Her scent wrapped around him, and he found himself, ever so slowly leaning in, bringing his lips closer to hers. She gave a little gasp, and the sound drew his eyes to her lips. The breaking of their eye contact broke the spell of the moment. What was he doing? So much for his vaunted intent to stay aloof!
He drew back, breathing hard, and pain flared in her eyes, quickly replaced by an expression he recognised from London – it was the polite mask which she wore, to hide her true feelings from the people around her. That she felt the need to present him with that mask was deeply, excruciatingly painful – yet he deserved it. He had failed her, in so many ways. He swallowed that pain, stepped back, and gave her a flourishing bow, then turned on his heel and left her there.
He fled to the only place where he could guarantee that she could not follow – his cabin. Perhaps it was cowardly of him, but he did not think that he had the strength to maintain his aloofness, if he stayed in her presence.
<<<
Raphael had been speaking to the Captain, just before they had cast off, and had stayed up on the quarterdeck with him as they put out to sea, watching with pleasure the smooth running of the vessel. From that high up he could see the majority of the ship, and had noted with interest the moment when Gabriel had quietly gone to stand behind Lady Primrose, watching her draw. Over the preceding week, he, and Sera, had watched with concern as the warm companionship which had previously existed between Gabriel and Lady Primrose had faded, for no reasons that they could see.
He had believed that, perhaps, his brother was finding the love that he deserved, but over the last week or more, that impression had been called into doubt. In a way,
it was very odd to watch, for Raphael suspected that, most likely, the growing distance between Gabriel and Lady Primrose was caused by some perception on Gabriel’s part, or Primrose’s which might not be real. Rather as he and Sera had hurt each other badly, before they had untangled all of the incorrect beliefs which they’d had about themselves, and each other.
He shook his head sadly when Gabriel stepped back as he watched, bowed, and left Lady Primrose standing on deck, looking a little bereft. Obviously, whatever was at issue was not yet resolved. He hoped that it would be soon, that they might find happiness together – but he knew that there was little he could do to help – they would have to sort it out themselves, in their own time.
With that thought, he left the quarterdeck, feeling a sudden need to be in Sera’s presence, to enjoy the deep love that he had found.
<<<
Primrose found herself alternating between angry frustration, and hurt. Gabriel seemed to mostly keep to his own cabin, rather than frequenting the small salon as he had on the way out to the Canaries – which made it very difficult for her to encounter him. When she did, he was aloof, and avoided close proximity. She gave him that aloofness back, in double measure, but late at night in her cabin, she found herself in tears, all too often.
She loved him – she did not care, at all, that he was common born – all she cared about was the sort of man he was – courageous, caring, intelligent, and supportive of her interests. Why could he not see it?
She had thought, until that fateful day up in the hills, that he could see it, that he was beginning to accept that it might be possible, between them. Now, whilst his eyes seemed filled with a pain that echoed her own in those moments when she caught him unawares, his outward manner was all cold politeness.
Yet the memory of that searing kiss in the bathing room, the day before they had departed the islands, stayed in her mind. Surely, that kiss was the truth, and all of this coldness the lie?
A Minx for a Merchant : Book 5: Primrose: Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters - The Elbury Bouquet) Page 14