A Gentleman Never Tells (4 page)

Gabrielle looked at her father and had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him no. She wondered what had come over her. Why and how had she changed in such a short span of time? Five months ago she had readily agreed when her father told her he wanted her to marry Staunton, a man she had no feelings for whatsoever. She never once thought to disobey her father. She hardly even questioned him, but she had changed. She no longer wanted to just accept what her father wanted her to do without challenging him.

“Papa, I don’t want to—”

He held up his hand to stop her. “Whatever you say will fall on deaf ears, my dear. I don’t know the viscount but I’ll see what kind of financial arrangements I can make with him. They won’t be as lucrative as I had with the earl, I’m sure, but maybe he has something that would be worth an exchange for your hand in marriage. And, of course, I’ll provide him an adequate dowry. I spoke with my solicitor before I came back home. He is already gathering information on Brentwood for me and should have it to me before the man arrives late this afternoon.”

Gabrielle remembered the expression on Lord Brentwood’s face when he heard she was set to be married next week, and that gave her some comfort. He was not a happy man. No matter what he’d said about willing to lie in the bed he made. If she read him right, his expression told her he would rather suffer the depths of hell than marry her.

“Since you liked the viscount well enough to meet him in the park and let him kiss you,” her father continued, “I intend to see that you marry him.”

Showing more confidence than she was feeling, Gabrielle took a bold step toward her father’s desk, and in a strong voice, said, “I don’t want to marry him.”

The chair squeaked as he reached over and placed his glass on the desk. “You should have thought about that before you designed your affair with him.”

Gabrielle gasped. “There was no affair, Papa.”

He slammed a meaty hand down on his desk. “Then what would you call it, Gabrielle?”

“Madness,” she whispered. “Utter madness.” As the words passed her lips, fleeting memories flooded her. Strong, warm, and passionate arms wrapped tightly around her. Cool, soft, and inviting lips pressed against hers. A wide, firm palm pressed gently to her breast.

“Madness?” he asked and then sighed heavily before picking up his glass again. “Aptly put. Now leave me, Gabrielle, I’m tired of this subject, and I have work to do.”

Gabrielle studied her father. It was clear she wasn’t going to change him, but she could change herself. No, she
had
changed. She wasn’t sure what had happened to her when she saw her sister and Staunton together, but she wasn’t the same person anymore. She knew she’d done the right thing in keeping scandal away from Rosabelle’s name, and now she had to keep from ruining Lord Brentwood’s life, as well. Even though he had been kind enough to indicate he would marry her if her father insisted, she held out hope that he would come to his senses and help her convince her father that marriage between them wasn’t necessary.

With no fear of reprisal, she said. “I want to be present whenever you talk to Lord Brentwood.”

Not bothering to look at her, the duke harrumphed again and said, “Absolutely not.”

“It’s my life, Papa.”

He looked up at her. “Which you have turned into total chaos, along with mine. I’d say you’ve done quite enough.”

“Still squealing like a wild boar caught among the briars, Duke? It looks as though I got here just in time to help Gabby before you blow up like a hot air balloon.”

Gabrielle whirled to see her favorite aunt standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, a black travelling cape on her shoulders, a fancy feathered hat on her head, and cotton gloves on her hands. At the sight of her beloved aunt, Gabrielle felt as if a burden lifted from her shoulders, and she smiled.

“You know,” her aunt continued, “that my dear sister would have never allowed you to talk in that tone to one of her daughters.”

The duke grunted. “I see you still haven’t learned the art of knocking and being announced, Elizabeth.”

“Never saw the reason to, after my sister told me I would always be welcomed in her home. She said the door was always open to me, so why shouldn’t I just walk right in?”

“Because you are usually butting in where you’re not wanted,” the duke said.

“Auntie Bethie,” Gabrielle exclaimed excitedly and rushed toward her aunt. “I’m so glad to see you! I was hoping you would come soon.”

“Lovely to see you, dearest,” her aunt said as they hugged and kissed each other on their cheeks. “You do get more beautiful every time I see you.”

“Nonsense, Auntie, let me help you with your cape.”

Gabrielle’s father had three sisters, and while Gabrielle enjoyed seeing them all, she had never adored any of them the way she adored her mother’s only sister. Mrs. Elizabeth Potter was petite in size, but her loud and gravelly voice made her sound as boisterous as most men. Her nose and chin were sharp, and her eyes were as dark brown as the chocolate she liked to drink. She had a shock of golden-red hair that never seemed to fade or show gray. No doubt that was because of a secret solution she bought from the same apothecary where she bought her fountain of youth cream that she put on her face every evening before retiring. Gabrielle didn’t know why her aunt bothered to tint her hair. It was usually hidden beneath one of her many outrageously designed hats.

“You do remember that my wife passed on more than a dozen years ago, don’t you?” Gabby’s father barked. “Or have you gotten so old that your memory doesn’t serve you well anymore?”

“Don’t be such a tyrant, Papa,” Gabrielle said. “I’m thrilled Auntie Bethie is here.” Gabrielle took her aunt’s cape and laid it on a chair by the door.

“You would be,” her father murmured, “but I’m not. She dotes on you and treats you as if you were a piece of the finest china.” He looked over at her aunt and said, “I don’t even know why you are here.”

Auntie Bethie ignored him and smiled at Gabrielle as she handed over her drawstring reticule. “I’m here for the wedding, of course.”

Gabrielle blinked and opened her mouth to say the wedding had been canceled, but her father spoke first.

“You’re early,” he snapped.

“When it involves a wedding, a week is not too early to arrive. Besides, I wanted to surprise Gabrielle.”

Her father picked up his glass again. “It’s more like you wanted to irritate the devil out of me.”

She gave him a cunning smile as she untied the ribbon of her feathered bonnet and said, “You’ve always been able to see right through me, Duke.”

He matched her smile with a smirk of his own. “It’s easy to see through shallow water, Elizabeth.”

A deep, throaty laugh emerged from the small woman, and she walked farther into the room, taking off her gloves as she went. Her dark brown travelling dress swished around her ankles as she moved.

“I’m delighted I can still manage to irritate you, but by the looks of that glass in your hand, I’d say I’ll have to stand in line today. I think someone has already beaten me to it this morning. It’s a bit early in the day for the fish juice, isn’t it, Duke?”

“You would change your Puritan ways and be drinking, too, if you’d had the morning I’ve had,” he grumbled.

Though the subject was a serious one, Gabrielle couldn’t help but smile as her father and aunt traded barbs with each other. Even though their dislike for each other was very real, always intense, and at times very caustic, they could be quite comical. For as long as she could remember, the two had never had a kind word for the other. Because of their constant bickering when they were around each other, Auntie Bethie visited them only once or twice a year. She usually stayed at least three or four weeks every time. The duke would always find a reason to leave shortly after her arrival, and she would always leave as soon as he returned.

Elizabeth stopped in front of the duke’s desk, propped a lean hip against it, and asked, “Who is the lucky devil who dared to take my place of honor in your cold heart?”

Gabrielle’s father lifted his glass in salute to Elizabeth. “A viscount named Brentwood.”

Auntie Bethie turned toward Gabrielle. “Perhaps I’ll meet him at the wedding?”

“You’re too late for the wedding,” her father said gruffly.

Her aunt peeled her hat off her head, tossed the feathered bonnet to Gabrielle, and then turned back to the duke. “Will you make up your mind, old man? You just told me I was early.”

“Blast it, woman, you were early because the wedding was next week, and there was no reason for you to come until the day of it. And you’re late now because the wedding has just been canceled.”

A garbled gasp came from the doorway. “Gabby, you’re not going to marry Staunton?”

At the sound of her sister’s voice, Gabrielle spun toward the door. Rosabelle stood just inside the room, her bright blue eyes glistening with questions Gabrielle wasn’t ready to answer.

Rosabelle rushed breathlessly into the room, her long golden curls bouncing on her back. Her gaze searched wildly from Gabrielle to their father, to their aunt, and then back to Gabrielle. “Tell me, is what I just heard true?”

Looking at her sister’s hopeful expression, Gabrielle knew that Rosabelle was brimming with love for Staunton. Earlier in the day, Gabrielle had wondered how she’d missed their love for each other, but now she knew. She simply hadn’t cared enough for Staunton one way or the other to notice how he looked at any other young ladies, or how they looked at him.

The duke rose from his chair. “That is the truth.”

Relief that quickly turned to hopefulness washed down Rosabelle’s face. Her chest heaved with expectations, and her eyes once again eagerly searched every face in the room. But obviously reading the dire expressions of Gabrielle, her father, and her aunt, she quickly masked her happiness with a troubled, exaggerated frown of shock.

Rosabelle clutched her skirt in her hands. “Auntie Bethie, is this why you are here?” Not waiting for an answer, she turned to Gabrielle. “Gabby, this is absolutely the most dreadful news. Why? What happened between you two? When did it happen?”

Not wanting to get into this with Rosabelle or her aunt at the moment, Gabrielle said, “There is no need to go into the details about this to anyone, is there, Papa?”

“None I can see. Everything will have to be settled with Austerhill before anything concerning Brentwood need be formally announced. Though I’m sure your aunt will not rest her old bones until she knows more from you.”

Rosabelle kept concern on her features. Her hands worked the fabric of her dress. “How can you bear it, Gabby? You must be so brokenhearted and distressed. I don’t know why you aren’t drowning in a pail of tears.”

“Because she’s her mother’s daughter,” Auntie Bethie said. “She’s much too strong for that kind of nonsense.”

Feeling calmer now that her aunt was here and now that Rosabelle knew the wedding was canceled, Gabrielle said, “Don’t be alarmed for me, Rosa. You know that it never was a love match between us. It was all financial, so there are no broken hearts, just details that need to be handled, which Papa is already in the process of taking care of.”

“Still, to have your wedding canceled a week before—I don’t know what to say. You had everything planned. Your trunks are packed and ready to be delivered to your new home. What are you going to do?”

Those were little details Gabrielle didn’t need to be reminded of.

“She will do nothing,” Auntie Bethie said. “I shall be happy to take care of everything, all the cancellations, all the notes that must be sent, everything. I will handle it all.”

“Thank you, Auntie, that would be so very kind of you.”

“Consider it done.”

Gabrielle was glad to see Rosabelle’s attempted expression of alarm relax into a frown of real concern for her. She knew her sister hadn’t deliberately set out to steal Staunton away from her.

Gabrielle couldn’t blame Rosa for not telling her about the loving feelings she had for Staunton, either. After the way her father had put her through the mill with all his questions about Lord Brentwood, Gabrielle knew admitting to a wrong doing wasn’t an easy thing to do.

Now that Gabrielle had had time to think rationally, she couldn’t blame Rosabelle for anything that had happened. Gabrielle had read enough books and heard enough gossip from widows and dowagers to know it wasn’t unusual for young ladies to fall in love with men as handsome and dashing as Staunton. Even she had fallen victim to that malady once.

For a brief time last year, Gabrielle had fancied herself madly in love with a handsome soldier she’d seen while strolling with her family through Vauxhall Gardens. He had been so powerful looking, so handsomely debonair in his uniform, with his wide leather belt strapped around his slim waist and a shiny sword hanging by his side. When he’d looked her way and smiled, her heart fluttered and felt as if it had melted in her chest. She couldn’t count the nights she’d lain awake dreaming about him, hoping she’d see him again, but she never did.

“I know you are very strong, Gabby,” Rosabelle said. “You’re the strongest lady I have ever known; but still, you must be devastated by this turn of events.”

There was no acting or faking in Rosabelle’s comments about Gabrielle’s strength, and she appreciated the kind words from her. But there had been several times that day when Gabrielle hadn’t felt strong at all.

“Oddly, I’m not,” Gabrielle said, wanting to put an end to this uncomfortable conversation. “I will just say I am not unhappy about what has happened, Rosa, and leave it at that. I’m sure there will be gossip about me in the next few days, and quite possibly for weeks to come. But I believe the scandal of a canceled wedding will die down as soon as another scandal happens to take its place. Which, knowing London Society as we do, shouldn’t be too long. In any case, I’m sure the worst of it will be over by winter’s end and will in no way affect you or your prospects for a good match next Season.”

Gabrielle saw the love for Staunton in her sister’s face. That told her she had made the right decision to sacrifice her reputation to save Rosabelle’s. Her sister was in love, and Gabrielle wasn’t. What she had to do now was find a way to help the young lovers be together and to keep her father from forcing her to marry Lord Brentwood.