“Asks me what?” Savannah asked genuinely confused.
“To marry him, of course.”
Shocked, Savannah laughed. Was everyone that naive? The duke was merely being polite to her because of Vincent. There were no intimate, romantic inclinations between them. They shared a kiss, nothing more. “The duke is merely being polite. He was an old friend of my late husband.”
“Yet I dare say he’s set his sights on you, even if he is unaware of it.”
This was the silliest thing she’d ever heard. As she was a lowly commoner and he a powerful duke, there could never be more between them than that stolen kiss. Eventually, he would find someone among the ton and marry. She did, however, wonder how their relationship would continue once he found his duchess. Not that it was any of her business. A twinge of jealousy reared its ugly head, but as he drew closer, that feeling changed to an emotion she hadn’t experienced in years. Not since before Roland died.
* * *
Gabriel looked quickly twice upon seeing Savannah. She stood across the room, speaking with Miss Collins, a young woman who’d been through several seasons without securing a match. Savannah was beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman in the room, dressed in a dark-gold confection that made her look like a goddess. It was daring, but daring was exactly what he expected from her. She wore pearl earbobs with a matching pearl choker and bracelet. She didn’t belong with the matrons. She needed to be seen by all. However, to be seen by all meant other men would ogle her, and since their kiss, he now considered her his. Not for anyone’s delight except his own.
Before he was halfway to Savannah, he felt an arm on his sleeve. He turned to see who the offending party was, for he knew by the touch it was not a female guest. His friend Henry Littleton, the Duke of Dover, stood there, a strange look on his face. Was it concern, or pity perhaps? He couldn’t be sure. “Dover? You look as if something ails you.”
“I need to speak with you in private.”
Gabriel stared at his friend in disbelief. He was truly in some sort of anguish. “Now?” he asked, hoping Dover would decide the matter wasn’t as urgent as he was making it out to be.
“Yes. It’s a highly sensitive matter, and you need to hear it from me.”
“What did you do this time, Henry?” he joked.
“I’m serious, Gabriel,” he replied. One thing about Dover, he never used Gabriel’s given name unless it was important. “There’s a private sitting room one floor up. No one should bother us there. Meet me in ten minutes.”
Gabriel sighed. “This better be good.”
“It could be life-altering.”
He shook his head. “Very well, ten minutes.”
The two men parted. Gabriel was more than perturbed by his friend’s insistence. As far as he was concerned, anything could wait until the following day. It had always irritated him that men had to use social gatherings as a means to conduct business. Nothing was that important.
As he neared Savannah and the other women, he greeted them as he always did. Evenings such as this were for entertainment. The ladies provided such entertainment simply by looking lovely. He took Miss Collins’s hand and greeted her, then Mrs. Dawson. He was still completely enthralled by her beauty. She left him breathless.
“Mrs. Dawson, may I have the next waltz? I believe it’s the dinner set.”
“You may, Your Grace, if you’ll sign my dance card. I would hate for another gentleman to insist it could be had simply because you forgot to sign it.”
She handed him a pencil and the card. He signed the appropriate spot before returning it to her.
“If you ladies will excuse me, I need to speak with someone.” He glanced at Savannah. “I’ll be back momentarily. The Duke of Dover has requested a word.”
“Your Grace,” she replied.
He bowed to both ladies and continued through the ballroom. Taking the stairs two at a time, he quickly made it to the top, bypassing the card room the duke had set up. He walked down the hall until he came upon the closed door containing the family sitting room.
The small room was done in red damask wall coverings with matching chairs and settees. Henry paced in front of the fire.
“What is so damn important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” Gabriel demanded.
“I know you’re like a guardian for the young earl, and that you’re assisting Mrs. Dawson with her late husband’s business affairs,” he said. “What I have to tell you could be disturbing.”
“Well? What is it?”
“There is a rumor going around that a man looking remarkably like Roland Dawson was seen at the docks yesterday.”
Gabriel arched a brow. “You do realize he’s dead.”
“Yes.”
“It must be someone who favors Roland, and whoever told you this is mistaken.”
“I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. I’m not sure who else has heard it, but I thought you should know either way.”
“I appreciate you sharing this with me.”
“Didn’t Mrs. Dawson have him declared legally dead?”
“Yes, after two years she petitioned the court in America and had him declared dead.”
“Hmmm,” Henry muttered.
“What? What is it?”
“I don’t know. It seems odd a man of his standing would fake his own death. Makes no sense.”
“Men have done more foolish things than that.”
This wasn’t at all what he wanted to hear, but what would he want? He needed to have men watch Sky View and their London home.
“Do you know which ship he came in on?” Gabriel asked.
“I was told he was seen boarding a ship to the islands,” Henry replied. “Didn’t Roland have a sugar plantation?”
“Yes, though it’s being looked after by the estate manager.”
“How are you going to handle this?”
Gabriel shook his head. “First of all, we don’t even know if it was Roland. One sighting of a person matching his description is reason to be on the lookout, nothing else.”
“I’m merely relaying the information, Gabriel. What you do with it is up to you.”
“And I appreciate you coming to me with it,” he replied. He needed to speak with his solicitors and see what would happen should Roland indeed still be alive. The nagging thought was why would he pretend otherwise? Why on so many levels. First of all, Gabriel needed to verify what he’d just been told. He’d send a man down to the docks to ask around, see what ships had departed recently for the islands.
“What do you plan on doing, and don’t tell me ‘nothing,’” Henry said. “I can see your mind whirling about.”
“I'm going to send a man to the docks to ask what ships have recently departed for the islands.”
“I’ll make some discreet inquiries around the docks myself. I know he owned a warehouse.”
“Yes, he did. His widow wants to see it along with one of the ships her son now owns,” Gabriel replied.
“Will you do it? Take her there?”
Gabriel arched a brow. “I’ll put her off for as long as possible. However, Mrs. Dawson is not easily deterred.”
Henry straightened his cravat. “I suppose we should rejoin the others.”
Gabriel nodded before walking out of the small sitting room ahead of Littleton.
By the time he and Littleton rejoined the others in the ballroom, the next set had just begun. He found Savannah near the same spot where he’d last spoken with her. She smiled as their eyes met and he smoothed any worry from his expression.
“Mrs. Dawson, I believe this next dance is mine?”
She put her gloved hand on his arm and let him lead her out to the middle of the ballroom. He caught her perfume; something light, like vanilla and oranges. It wasn’t too heavy a scent, perfect for her. Something he would forever associate with her.
“I assume you and Littleton were able to have your conversation in peace. He seemed quite serious,” she said as she put h
er hand on his shoulder.
“Littleton’s always serious.”
They began the waltz, saying nothing at first as couples whirled by. He could feel eyes on them, watching them. It was always like that for him, which was why he had such a distaste for social events. Although he didn’t care and paid no mind to the gossip, somehow, with Savannah, it was different. It was as if he wanted nothing more than to take her back to the country and keep her to himself, away from prying eyes. But now there was the possibility her husband might still be alive. Why was he being so illusive? Would she go back to him, or was there a glimmer of hope for them?
She appeared to notice they were the focus of discussion as well. “It seems we are the center of attention. Everyone is watching us.”
“Let them,” he growled.
“I suppose I’m not too well liked by some of the mothers this evening. They feel as though I’m monopolizing your time.”
“Ridiculous. I will dance with whomever I please and spend my time with whichever lady I want, and I choose you.”
“I’m flattered, Your Grace. I must tell you, though, I’m not interested in marrying again. Not right now.”
He laughed softly. “Neither am I, my lady, which is why I think we get along so well.”
She blushed. “You’re not interested in marriage, Your Grace?”
He hated when she called him by his title. He’d much rather she address him by his given name. “Gabriel,” he muttered. “I want to hear you say it.” He drew her closer, his breath coming short as he realized that if Roland were still alive, he might never hold her in his arms again. "As for marriage? Perhaps, someday”
“But don’t you need to be thinking about an heir? I believe I remember hearing somewhere that is quite important to you peers.”
He rumbled, “It is, but I am a firm believer that when the time is right, it will happen.”
“A proper English duchess will magically appear? Or will you find her amongst the ballrooms of London?”
The waltz was coming to an end. He didn’t want it to end, ever. He found he was enjoying the warmth of her against his body far more than he probably should. Not for the first time, he cursed English society’s rules.
“I’ll know when I find my duchess.”
Gabriel noticed Lady Dorset watching from the sidelines. She might be trying not to show her emotions, but he could read right through her. She was not happy he and Savannah were spending time together in such a public place. Knowing her, she was dreading the gossip and having to explain to those who didn’t know just who Savannah was and what role he played.
He returned Savannah to Lady Dorset. They would be going in to supper, and as one of the senior peers, he would be among the first to be seated. It was how things were done.
The countess was accommodating as usual. How could she not be in front of all the other ladies? As well, he was sure by now she knew of the parameters he’d set regarding her allowance. She was the one who’d convinced him to go through the books and make sure everything was as it should be going forward for young Vincent.
“Lady Dorset, I have invited Mrs. Dawson to the theater to see a new version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Would you care to join us?”
The dowager countess smiled crookedly. “Thank you for thinking of me, Your Grace, but I must decline. I’m sure Mrs. Dawson will be enthralled to see Shakespeare performed in his home country.”
Gabriel nodded as the dinner bell sounded. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Thank you again, Your Grace,” Savannah murmured.
“My pleasure.”
The next few hours were going to pass too slowly as far as Gabriel was concerned. He had no interest in dinner conversation when he’d rather have a more stimulating one with Savannah. He tucked away what Dover had mentioned for future inquiries. That Roland could still be alive was unfathomable. Men did sometimes fake their own deaths, usually to escape financial ruin or, worse yet, to escape a crime committed.
The Roland he remembered would put his family before anything else. The Roland he knew had perished in a storm at sea two years ago. He couldn’t afford to let himself think otherwise, because that would mean Savannah was still married. A thought he found himself unable to bear.
Gabriel led the others into dinner. His dinner companion for the evening was the Duke of Liverpool’s daughter, Lady Compton, whose husband, the Earl of Compton, was abroad on the Continent. Gabriel could not have wished for a better dining companion, and silently thanked the Duchess of Liverpool for her astute choice. At least Lady Compton wouldn’t sit and talk about the weather.
Chapter Thirteen
It had been with great reluctance Savannah left the ball, but when the countess was ready to leave, she knew she had no choice. The evening had been perfect, just as Lady Dorset had said it would be. Gabriel had been there. They’d danced twice, and even though she had been enthralled with him and his stimulating conversation, Savannah knew there would never be anything between them. There were far too many younger ladies wanting him to pay attention to them.
Then he angered her as quickly as he made her happy. She’d merely seen him at dinner as they were seated quite a ways from each other. He caught her eye several times with a look of mirth in those green orbs. That was enough, until after dinner, when she found out he’d left abruptly without a word to her. Men did that, and could get away with such behavior. She, on the other hand, was forced to endure tea and gossip after dinner.
Today, he sent a message around stating he would call on her that afternoon. So now they were courting? Whatever it was, he wanted to take her for a carriage ride through the park. The day was beautiful, perfect for such an outing.
She finished writing a letter to Vincent, telling him all about what she’d seen so far and that she’d be home soon. Having never been apart from him, this separation ate at her like a dark hole. Writing him filled the void, at least temporarily.
She walked downstairs to find not a footman or even the butler to give her letter to. Sometimes she still couldn’t keep straight what roles the various servants played. Some she thought overlapped, but she knew the English were quite set in their ways, and suggesting to the countess to change anything might be seen as meddling.
After finally finding the butler keeping vigil near the front door, she gave him her letter, then walked toward the drawing room. Fresh flowers filled a vase in the hall. Once in the drawing room, she saw two others, one slightly larger than the other two.
If the flowers were for her, why would anyone be sending her flowers? She failed to remember anyone except Gabriel who even remotely attracted her attention. To make matters stranger, there was no card for any of them.
Lady Dorset was seated on a chair, her needlework in one hand. She gazed up as Savannah entered the room.
“Good afternoon,” Lady Dorset greeted her.
Savannah had moved to the largest bouquet of pink roses. There were at least two dozen blooms, and their fragrance enhanced the room. “These are magnificent.”
“They are. You seem to have attracted the Duke of Clevedon’s attention.”
“They’re all from him?”
“They are.”
“He sent no card?” She studied the countess to see if her facial expression changed. As usual, however, the woman’s emotions were locked up tight.
“Yes, he did. They’re over in my desk,” she replied. “I didn’t think the servants should see who they were from. It’s highly inappropriate.”
“What? What’s inappropriate?”
“That the duke is sending you flowers and paying attention to you.”
“He’s overseeing Vincent’s upbringing. Of course we’re going to speak, but I wouldn’t go as far as to call it paying attention to me. I can’t stop him from sending me flowers either. That would be rude.”
The countess arched a well-manicured brow. “Then you shouldn’t lead him on.”
Savannah stared at her in disbel
ief. “You think I’m leading him on? I can assure you, Lady Dorset, that’s the furthest thing from my mind. The duke has merely become a friend and confidant.” She realized she probably shouldn’t have used the word confidant, but she blurted it out before thinking, and now it was out there.
“He’s taking you to the park this afternoon. The theater as well? If that doesn’t imply he’s interested, I don’t know what does.” She sniffed.
“He’s taking me to the park so I can see it for myself. There is nothing that old in America.”
“Of course there isn’t.”
“Well, if you expect me to cancel our outing, you’re going to be displeased, because I won’t.”
“No, I didn’t expect you to.”
Savannah stood there shaking. Not even her mother had ever spoken to her in such a manner. It wasn’t as though she were a young debutante. She was a widow, and if a man wished to take her somewhere for an afternoon, he could. She turned back to the roses and smelled them once again.
“I thought we’d return to Sky View tomorrow,” Lady Dorset announced. “I know you’re missing young Vincent.”
“Didn’t you want to stay a fortnight or longer?”
The countess smiled sardonically. “I’ve finished what I came to do, and thanks to the Duke of Clevedon, I can’t shop for a few items.”
“What has the duke got to do with your shopping?”
“I made the mistake of putting him in charge of Vincent’s affairs, which included the money. He’s cut me off. I can’t redecorate as I wanted. Not without getting permission for the extra funds that will be required.”
It didn’t sound like too much to ask. It wasn’t her money, and from what Savannah had just learned, the duke was protecting her son’s interests. “You could ask him for an increase in your allowance, couldn’t you?”
“He already did, but it’s hardly enough to cover the costs of what I need.”
“Clevedon is a reasonable man. I’m sure if you approach him, he’ll change his mind.”
Shaking her head, the countess sighed. “No, he won’t.” She rose from her chair, putting her needlepoint down. “If you’ll excuse me, my dear, I’m afraid I have a headache.”
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