Triana's Spring Seduction

by Tabetha Waite

  He wasn’t disappointed as the movement on his leg abruptly stilled. “Indeed.” After a brief pause, she gave a shrug. “However, I’m afraid you’re mistaken on that point, as I was at the opera tonight and did not see the duke anywhere in attendance. Besides that twit was with Eastbury.”

  He grinned inwardly, knowing that once he relayed this next little tidbit she would likely fly into a frenzy, whereas he would gladly bend her spirit back into submission. It was one of the things he actually liked about her — the fact she was always willing to spread her legs.

  “She may have arrived with Eastbury, but she left with Chiltern in a hired hackney. I saw it with my own eyes.” Instantly, her hand gripped his thigh, her fingernails digging into his skin. “But why dwell on their little tryst? I am here on other matters, after all.”

  “Then why don’t you get to it?” she snapped, her green eyes blazing with ill humor. Rising to her feet, she began to pace back and forth in agitation.

  He leaned back on the bed, his greedy eyes taking in the view of her naked tirade, her heavy breasts bouncing lightly with every heaving breath; her unbound hair just brushing the top of her rounded bottom. Again, he could feel the stirrings of passion gaining control. “Did you happen to see Triana talking to Corressa tonight?”

  “Bothersome woman,” Cordelia muttered angrily. “I told that deplorable captain to steer clear of that harlot, but as usual, he was led by his cock.” Shaking her head, she set her hands on her hips. “No matter. In a few weeks I shall be far away from this wretched city and sipping tea in France.”

  “Naturally,” the man murmured, and then patted the bed beside him, inviting her to rejoin him there.

  She crossed her arms and did her best to glare at him. “Do you think of nothing else but your own satisfaction?”

  He simply grinned. “Come now, Cordelia. We’re two of a kind, remember? And like me...” His voice dropped an octave as he stood up. “...you always get what you want.”

  Cordelia continued to shoot daggers out of her calculating eyes, but he could tell his words were starting to work their usual magic. “You’re a bastard.” She tried one last jab at his expense, although it lacked conviction.

  With a twist to his lips, he reached out and squeezed her breasts until she gasped in painful pleasure. “Undoubtedly,” he purred, pulling her back to the bed. “But you’re a dirty whore, and together we can bring the world to its knees.”

  And as he took her once again, he knew she was helpless to agree.

  ***

  Triana didn’t realize she’d dozed off until the hackney came to an abrupt halt and she jerked awake.

  “Do you know how lovely you are when you’re sleeping?” Her gaze flew to Gabriel, where he sat in shadow on the other side of the carriage.

  Trying to still her hammering pulse, she rolled her eyes and made light of his statement. “If I’m sleeping, then naturally, I would have no idea, now would I?”

  A hearty chuckle followed. “I do enjoy it when you’re putting me in my place.”

  Triana gave a reluctant grin in return, as she moved her head and grimaced, noticing a slight crick in her neck. Good Heavens, how long had she slept? Surely it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Even so, she asked, “How long have I been asleep?”

  Gabriel ignored her query as he alighted the hackney and quietly spoke to the driver. He reached a hand back in, and Triana accepted it as he helped her step down. Once she did so, the carriage immediately drove off. Surprised at first that Gabriel hadn’t wanted the driver to wait for him, she glanced beyond him — and froze.

  This was not Abernathy House, nor did the activity of the city surround them. Before her stood a sprawling, slate gray manor that seemed to rise up out of the darkness like some imposing foe from a Gothic novel. If it wasn’t for the bit of illumination shining through a few, haphazard windows, she might have been convinced that it was haunted, or at least inhabited by some madman.

  She glanced at Gabriel, who announced flatly and without emotion. “Welcome to Chiltern Hall, my lady.”

  Her mouth fell open in a rather unladylike gesture; shock rendering her temporarily speechless. “Chiltern Hall? But why are we here, at your home, and not—?”

  “This may be my estate and my property,” he interrupted. “But rest assured, madam, it is not my home.” He turned on his heel and strode toward the front door, leaving her to stare after him in confusion.

  What was going on here?

  Triana rushed forward, prepared to stand in front of Gabriel and demand some answers, but she paused when a starched and proper butler appeared to greet them. He bowed formally from the waist, his expression blank as he gave a strictly formal welcome, as if their spontaneous arrival was nothing unexpected. “Your Grace.”

  “Hannity,” Gabriel returned in the same, stiff manner. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” The gray haired servant replied, moving aside so they could enter.

  Gabriel wasted no time upon their entrance but instructed, “I shall need my chambers prepared in the east wing, as well as the blue room for Lady Triana.” Without another word, the butler bowed and went off to do his master’s bidding, no questions asked.

  Still reeling from the fact that she was even here, Triana couldn’t help but take a moment to glance about her surroundings. At first glance, one would have thought they were in a museum than an actual residence, for everything was in neat, orderly form — the tapestries, priceless antiquities, and gleaming, walnut staircase boasting of decades of wealth and privilege. Instead of inviting, it looked rather… cold and unfeeling.

  “I’m going to have a drink.” When Gabriel spoke to her, his words were nearly as brusque as when he’d spoken to Hannity. “I suggest you follow Greta—” A young, dark haired maid in a starched, white apron miraculously appeared and bobbed a light curtsy. “—and get settled in. We have much to discuss in the morning.”

  With that, he turned to leave her standing in the middle of his stately foyer.

  In the morning? It wasn’t until his words sank in that she placed her hands on her hips. It was the stance Triana normally took with Travell whenever he tried to order her about. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Gabriel paused and turned back to her, determination writ in every line of his unyielding face. Confident that she had his attention, she lifted her chin. “Now, if you would kindly call your carriage to take me back to London—”

  He crossed his arms. “And if I don’t?” He raised a curious brow and — damn his stubborn hide — he knew she didn’t have a ready answer.

  For one, she didn’t have any idea where Chiltern Hall actually was. Since she’d chosen to fall asleep rather than concentrate on her surroundings, she had no clue how far they’d actually traveled — or in which direction. She had no idea what time it was, and the idea of trudging about in the dark in unfamiliar territory held little appeal. And other than making her way back to town on foot, she really had little option other than to accept the duke’s generosity and remain a guest at Chiltern Hall, albeit a reluctant one.

  As if reading her thoughts, Gabriel gave a light smirk. “Exactly.” And this time, he did not hesitate as he left her.

  “Miserable wretch,” she grumbled, right before she looked up and realized the maid, Greta, was still patiently waiting for her. “As it appears I have no choice in the matter, and I certainly have no intention of sleeping in the foyer, I suppose you should show me to my room.”

  The maid tried and failed to hide a smile as she said, “This way, my lady.”

  As Triana followed the girl up the stairs and along several hallways with twists and turns, she realized it would be very easy to get lost in such a mammoth of a mansion.

  She would likely need a trail of breadcrumbs to find her way back out of this maze.

  Finally, Greta paused before an open door on the second floor, at the same time several maids rushed out
, bobbing quick curtsies as they went on their way. She turned to Triana, and said a bit sheepishly, “The main rooms haven’t been used for some time and since we weren’t really expecting His Grace this evening…” She let her words trail off, but Triana understood her meaning. The rooms had been very rapidly prepared for their stay.

  However, the moment Triana stepped over the threshold; she couldn’t help but gasp, this time in delight. It was one of the loveliest rooms she’d ever laid eyes on, decorated in varying shades of white and powder blue. She let her gaze roam freely over the expensive, Queen Anne style furnishings; a wardrobe, desk, a carved chaise, before coming to rest on the large, four poster, complete with an elegant set of bed steps. It occupied the middle of the room like a massive centerpiece with its flowing canopy curtains.

  “The blue room is the second largest chamber in the manor,” Greta was saying, as Triana continued to peruse her surroundings in awe. “Other than the master’s suite, of course.”

  This made Triana still. Heavens above, surely she hadn’t been assigned to the mistress’ chamber! If so, then that meant Gabriel would be…

  Her eyes slid to the closed door on the opposite wall — the one which, no doubt, adjoined the master’s chamber.

  “Would you be requiring a bath before bed, my lady?” Greta asked, though Triana had to swallow several times before she could speak, her throat having suddenly gone dry.

  Somehow, she managed a nod. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

  As Greta left to prepare the water for the large copper tub sitting in the corner of the room, Triana sighed and sank down on the bed, attempting to make any sense of why she was even here.

  ***

  Gabriel didn’t even bother pouring himself a glass of brandy, feeling that a clear head was what was truly required, although a dose of strong spirits wouldn’t be entirely amiss considering the circumstances.

  Upon entering the study, a room he hadn’t entered in nearly two decades, he hesitated — his gaze riveted on the massive oak desk that dominated the masculine room as a flood of memories rushed back to haunt him. With a deep breath, he walked over to one of the floor length windows and stared out at the darkness. There was a sudden twinge in his chest as he brought to mind a nearly forgotten stitch in time…

  As a boy, he’d had a certain talent for eluding his strict nanny. While he had led her on a merry chase countless times, he always managed to get caught by the irate woman eventually, for while he had a mischievous nature at heart, it was also a very predictable one. He could have hidden in the gardens or the kitchen cupboard, but he found himself continuously drawn to the same place. Most of the time, Gabriel wouldn’t even make his presence known as he just stood inside the doorway of his father’s study, content simply to silently watch his sire as he bent over the estate ledgers and scribbled away, unaware that he was being observed, so intent was he on his work. But if there was one thing the prior duke had firmly believed in, it was to keep a flawless account of one’s holdings. He’d always said that the key to passing down a spotless legacy, and to keeping an age-old fortune from faltering was to maintain a strict household.

  After all this time, it was rather ironic that Gabriel was now in possession of the manor, the one thing that had driven him away all those years ago.

  With a curse, he pushed his past behind him where it belonged and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand — how he might manage to make it through this night with his sanity intact, knowing that Triana slept under the same roof.

  Unbeknownst to Triana, he and Travell had discussed the possibility that Madame Corressa might yet be under surveillance for her ties to the Evening Swan’s captain. They both hoped that wouldn’t be the case, for the courtesan hadn’t been intimate with the man for well over six months. However, since there had been that thread of concern, they had thought it best to keep an eye on Triana, from a distance, of course. It had been planned that Travell was going to be the one at the opera, but since he’d been detained by an urgent missive from the Prime Minister at the last minute Gabriel had stepped in.

  Since it was considered a spy mission, Gabriel was careful to retain a proper disguise. He doubted that even Triana had noticed that beneath his greatcoat were the rugged clothes of a stagehand.

  Or that they had been followed.

  It was a wonder he hadn’t missed the dark figure that began to set off after them as they left the opera house, as furious as he’d been with Eastbury. But after reminding himself that he had to focus, he’d been able to keep his calm, thus alerting him to the potential danger. He was worried Triana might catch on to his sudden awareness, so he had been grateful when he noticed her even breathing, letting him know she’d fallen asleep. That had been all he needed to tell his driver to lose their shadow in the congestion of the city. While he had made sure to give ample compensation to the man for his trouble and his silence, Gabriel was convinced that they hadn’t seen the last of Cordelia’s hired henchmen.

  Which was why Gabriel had taken Triana to Chiltern Hall. It was the only place he and Travell agreed no one would look for her — where she’d be safe.

  Thankfully, he knew his servants were extremely loyal and discreet, although their allegiance, wasn’t foremost in his mind at the moment. If Travell couldn’t get away from London, he would be alone with Triana for an entire night. A very long night.

  But, dammit, he would retain control, even if it killed him. He refused to defile his best friend’s sister — no matter how much he desperately wanted to.

  He just prayed he would hear from the viscount soon.

  As if on cue, there was a light rap on the door as Hannity strode in. He handed him a sealed missive. “This just arrived for you, Your Grace.”

  Gabriel dismissed the servant, as he began to read the carefully penned letter from Travell;

  I was most aggrieved to receive your message. Unfortunately, we felt that might be the case, which is why we devised this plan. While I’m pleased to hear my sister made such wonderful progress, I fear for the danger we have now put her in, although I trust you unreservedly to keep her safe.

  Even as I write this, I have already sent her maid, Genevieve, to the country to visit with her family with my good wishes, giving every impression to our mother that she has joined my sister on a short sojourn to visit the girl’s sick cousin. While Lady Trenton is irate about the entire affair, she will continue to be my concern.

  Otherwise, I leave Triana in your capable hands and regrettably tell you that I will be unable to join you this evening. The Prime Minister is quite insistent that I am needed here as there have been new developments in the case, which I will reveal to you on our next meeting.

  If you do not hear from me prior, I shall see you within two days’ time at the appointed rendezvous.

  — Curdiff

  Gabriel crumpled the note in his fist.

  Bloody hell.

  ***

  Triana closed her eyes in calm serenity the minute she sank down into the steaming, rose-scented water. Unfortunately, the contentment didn’t last longer than it took to open her eyes — and spy that closed door. The one that taunted her, reminding her that it led to the master’s chamber…

  With a long-suffering sigh, Triana scrubbed at her pale skin until it practically glowed with a pinkish hue, the joy of a soaking bath evaporating like the steam. She quickly dried herself off, having dismissed Greta some time earlier. She certainly didn’t wish to be fussed over as if she were the duchess of the house.

  Triana put on the simple white nightdress that the young maid had graciously provided for her use and sat down at the vanity where a candle had been left burning, in order to brush her hair with the same borrowed toiletries. No questions had been asked about her reasons for being there, although she thought she’d heard the chatty girl say that the items had been Gabriel’s mother’s things packed away in storage, but as her mind had been wandering at the time, she couldn’t say for sure.

&nbs
p; Her eyes instantly slid back to that blasted door as if pulled there by some magical string. She could almost picture Gabriel standing in the frame, eyeing her with that sleek, silver gaze…

  She set down the elegant, ivory brush with a thunk! and rose to her feet. She needed to… think, to do something other than glare at that sturdy, hinged oak and wonder what he was doing on the other side. She paced the floor and tried to summon her earlier anger. She had been brought here without any explanation, and while that should have been enough to spike her ire, all she could hear was that annoying voice in her head.

  The perfect opportunity for you to be alone with Gabriel has literally been dumped in your lap and all you can think of are the whys! Here’s your chance to grab that one, glorious night with the man you love before the axe of marriage to Eastbury falls on you. Take it and never look back!

  Absently, Triana found herself crossing the room, her bare feet making not even a whisper of sound on the lush carpet that covered most of the shining hard wood. She paused by the door and strained her ears to listen, but she could hear nothing on the other side. Her hand trembled as she raised her hand to knock…

  What are you waiting for!

  Triana slowly lowered her hand. Coward was the first word that came to mind, although she firmly pushed it aside. She preferred to blame her uncertainty on ignorance or even innocence, for how could she have even begun to contemplate a seduction with an experienced man like Gabriel when she wasn’t even sure how to go about it?