A Gentleman Never Tells (9 page)

She didn’t finish the sentence, though Brent could imagine what she wanted to say but had then thought better of it. He’d found himself thinking the same thing more than once. And while he would love to blame Lady Gabrielle for Prissy’s running away, in truth only he was to blame.

“I’m the one who let go of her leash. I know she’s prone to be a wanderer, and that’s why I have never trusted any of the servants to walk her. If she can get away and explore, she will. Her disappearance is in no way your fault.”

“That’s kind of you to say.” Her eyes searched the distance behind him. “I’m afraid the only thing I’ve found is this is a very big park when you are looking for a little dog.”

“That’s what I’ve found, too.”

Brent couldn’t help but be touched by her concern for Prissy, but knowing how much she liked dogs, he wasn’t surprised.

“How long have you been out here?” he asked.

“Though Auntie Bethie would lead you to believe we’ve been here hours, we haven’t been here that long,” she said and lowered her lashes over her eyes so he couldn’t see in their depths.

Brent didn’t believe her. The tip of her nose and crest of her cheeks were dark pink from the cold. Mrs. Potter was shivering from the chilly wind. However, he couldn’t help but be impressed Lady Gabrielle came out on this windy day just to look for his dog. He was quite certain he had never met another young lady who would trouble herself to do that on such a cold morning.

He took a step closer, lowered his voice, and said, “I’m glad to see you are properly chaperoned this time.”

She lifted her chin in quiet defiance. “I do try to never make the same mistake twice, my lord.”

“That’s good to know.”

Their gazes held a moment longer than was necessary, and then she said, “Your injuries look better today.”

He gave her what he knew was a crooked smile and shifted his hat from one hand to the other. “You think so? I thought a monster was looking back at me when I was shaving this morning.”

“It seems I still have things to apologize for. I’m sorry about what Muggs and Lord Austerhill’s footman did, as well.”

Brent threw a quick glance to the beefy man sitting on the driver’s bench as he touched the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “Don’t be. It was a small price to pay for a few kisses.”

“You two are going to have to speak up if you want me to hear you,” Mrs. Potter called.

Lady Gabrielle glanced back toward the carriage with a smile and said, “We are only talking about the weather, Auntie.”

“Ah, that’s what I thought,” she answered and then chuckled. “In that case, carry on.”

“Your aunt is a very astute person.”

“I can see she amuses you. Some people, including my father, find her crude and offensive at times.”

“Everyone’s nature is different.”

“I know, but she has shocked most everyone in the ton at one time or another with her loose tongue.”

Brent nodded. “I’m sure. Has she lived with you since your mother’s death?”

“Good heavens no,” Lady Gabrielle said. “Not that I would have minded. I would much rather have had her than the string of governesses we’ve had over the years. But she and my father can’t tolerate each other for very long, and they stay away from each other as much as possible.”

“But he allows her to visit.”

“Yes, once or twice a year. She arrived in London just yesterday. She was going to help with last-minute preparations for the wedding.”

Brent watched Lady Gabrielle’s face carefully. There wasn’t even the tiniest bit of disappointment or bitterness showing in her eyes or voice when she mentioned the canceled wedding. That sort of thing would have devastated most young ladies. He couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t wanted to marry the earl’s son and why she was willing to elicit the aid of a complete stranger to make sure the wedding wouldn’t take place. That puzzled him immensely. He’d tried to get her to tell him when they talked yesterday. She was keeping that bit of information to herself, for now, but Brent intended to find out the answer.

“When I talked to your father yesterday, he mentioned your sister. I take it that, since she’s not with you, she doesn’t enjoy early morning jaunts to the park like you do.”

Brent watched a faraway look come to Lady Gabrielle’s eyes, as if she were remembering some private pain she didn’t want to surface, and he wondered what it was about the mention of her sister that brought such a look of sadness and contemplation to her face.

“Her name is Rosabelle,” she finally said. “Not even as a small child did Rosabelle want to start her day early or in a hurry. She has always wanted to stay up all night and sleep all day.”

“My mother was like that until she was given Prissy. That dog changed her life. She didn’t trust the servants to walk her, so she was up at dawn almost every morning to make sure Pris had her stroll.”

Lady Gabrielle lowered her lashes over her eyes, as if shielding what she felt from him. He hadn’t meant to bring up Prissy again.

“Gabby,” her aunt called, “I do believe it’s time for us to go. I’m going to catch a death chill if we stay out here any longer. Lord Brentwood?”

“Yes, madame?” he said, looking over Lady Gabrielle’s shoulder at the woman.

“We are planning to be at Lady Windham’s party on Saturday night. Will you be there?”

“Yes,” he said at the same time Lady Gabrielle walked closer to the carriage and said, “No, Auntie.”

“He just said yes,” Mrs. Potter contended.

“I mean no for me. I will not be attending any parties for the foreseeable future.”

The older woman’s brow wrinkled, and her lip curled up curiously. “That’s pure poppycock.”

Lady Gabrielle glanced back to Brent before saying, “There’s bound to be talk, Auntie.”

“Of course there will, but you have to treat it like falling off a horse. If one throws you, you get right back on and ride him again to overcome your fear. That’s what you shall do in this case. Besides, the best way to confront scandal and gossip in Society is to face it head on and dare them to breathe it to your face. I will not allow you to hide away in your house and feel as if you have been shunned by Society. No, it won’t happen as long as I am here.” She turned back to the viscount. “We all know gossip travels fast, don’t we, my lord?”

“Yes, madame.”

“I’ve hardly been in Town twenty-four hours and I’ve already heard about your twin brothers. Interesting fellows they must be.”

“Society seems infatuated with them, and I must admit they are not shying away but enjoying the attention.”

“See, Gabrielle. That’s how you handle scandal. Will they be attending Lady Windham’s party with you?”

“I’ve not talked to them personally about it, but they will probably be there, too.”

“Good. They can help keep you out of trouble. Judging from what little I know about your rendezvous with Gabby, I believe there will be a certain amount of unflattering talk when both of you appear at the same party for the first time. You must keep your wits, she must keep her head held high, and you both must resist the urge to fight back verbally or otherwise. It will only invigorate and prolong the gossip and enlarge the scandal. It will do more harm, and I would say the two of you have done quite enough already, wouldn’t you, Lord Brentwood?”

She spoke with such authority Brent was surprised the lady wasn’t the duke’s sister. But perhaps that was the reason she didn’t get along with Lady Gabrielle’s father. They were too much alike.

“Yes, Mrs. Potter, I understand,” Brent said, “but I would find it difficult not to defend Lady Gabrielle’s good name should it come to that.”

“Understood, my lord, however you must. She is a duke’s daughter, so she will be forgiven more easily than most young ladies in her current circumstances. The majority of people in Society will be respectful of her position, but there will be some who cannot contain themselves. For her, you must. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly.”

Mrs. Potter smiled and said, “Good. Come along, Gabby, we’ll return to the park at another time to look for your phantom dog. Preferably when it’s warmer and the sun is shining.”

“I’ll be right there, Auntie. Muggs, would you please help Brutus get into the carriage?”

Gabrielle turned back to Brent. Her blue gaze lighted on his face. She studied him as if she were trying to absorb every detail of his features, causing his lower stomach to tighten. He remembered her saying yesterday it was madness that caused her to kiss him, and he could almost believe it, because right now he was feeling a little madness himself. He was tempted to pull her to him and kiss her right in front of her aunt.

Lady Gabrielle looked deeply into his eyes for a moment before saying, “I hope you find Prissy.”

He nodded once, thankful he hadn’t followed his urge to kiss her. That would have been sheer, unadulterated madness.

“Do you want me to tell Mrs. Potter there is really a lost dog you were looking for?”

She shook her head. “She wouldn’t believe you.”

“I didn’t think so. Thank you for your help, Lady Gabrielle.”

Her expression changed to one of concern again, and she said, “There is always the possibility someone has taken Prissy home and is desperately trying to find her owner as we speak.”

“That she is safe and warm in someone’s gentle care is a comforting thought.”

“Gabby, we really must go.”

“I’m sure Prissy will turn up soon, Lord Brentwood. Would you mind sending me a note once you find her?”

He nodded. “Lady Gabrielle, Mrs. Potter.”

The servant rushed to help her onto the carriage, but Brent stepped in front of him and held out his hand for her. Lady Gabrielle hesitated and then looked at her aunt for approval. Only when Mrs. Potter gave the nod did Lady Gabrielle accept his offer and place the tips of her gloved fingers in his before stepping into the carriage. But just that brief touch was enough to send the heat of sexual desire rushing through him. He didn’t know why, but she affected him like no other woman ever had.

Lady Gabrielle seated herself beside her aunt and turned back and smiled at him with such genuine happiness that Brent’s breath caught in his chest. He felt the same feelings he’d had yesterday when she’d approached him. At times like this, she utterly enchanted him.

This was the lady who had intrigued him so desperately he forgot about everything but her in his arms. When they’d first met, she appeared so capable and independent. And this was the lady who stood so confidently before him and admitted she was betrothed to another.

He watched her as the carriage pulled away. Her father was a strong, unyielding man. Obviously, he’d taught his daughter to be a strong-willed and accomplished young lady, and obviously she had learned early how to get her way. And when he was with her, enjoying their banter, it was easy to forget she’d designed to catch him in a parson’s mousetrap. There could be only one reason why she had. She didn’t want to marry the earl’s son. But why?

Suddenly, he couldn’t wait for Lady Windham’s party so he could see the lovely and intriguing Lady Gabrielle again. He made a mental note that it would be five days.

He stood and watched until her carriage was out of sight before he started back toward his own vehicle. He would write up a notice for
The Times
and all the other newsprints when he got back home. Maybe offering a handsome reward for Prissy’s safe return would bring results quicker than his outings to the park.

A few minutes later, when Brent neared the curricle, he noticed a man standing a short distance away, looking at his horse. “Can I help you?” Brent called.

The man turned toward Brent, and the first thing Brent saw was a black patch covering one of the stranger’s eyes. His long beard was graying and unkempt. A tattered plaid scarf wrapped around his neck. His hands and arms were huddled to his chest in an unusual position, and as Brent got closer, he could see that he cuddled something beneath his coat—and it was moving.

Prissy was Brent’s first thought. He picked up his pace.

“No, sir,” the man answered, turning to walk away. “I was just admiring your fine horse and carriage. I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait,” Brent said, gaining on the man. “Are you holding something underneath your coat?”

The man stopped and faced Brent. “Yes, sir,” he said in a calm voice and showing no fear of being caught doing something wrong. “But I didn’t steal anything from your carriage.”

Brent didn’t know what the man carried but now realized it couldn’t be Prissy. She would have started barking like a fiend the moment she heard Brent’s voice. But he was curious as to what the stranger held.

“I believe you, but do you mind showing me what you are holding on to?”

“Don’t mind at all. Got nothing to hide.” The man unfastened the one large button on his coat and cautiously opened it.

Brent saw the wild black beaded eyes of a gray rabbit.

“Got yourself a pet, I see,” Brent said, realizing he was disappointed the animal wasn’t Prissy.

The man shook his head. “On a cold morning like this, I hold them underneath my coat to help keep me warm. I catch them in the park and sell them to taverns, inns.” He shrugged. “I sell to anyone that’s buying. Are you interested in it for your supper?”

“Not today,” Brent said, and climbed up on his curricle and headed out of the park.

Experience is not what happens to a man; it is what a man does with what happens to him.

—Aldous Huxley

She couldn’t get him off her mind.

It was frustrating for Gabrielle that most of her waking moments she was thinking about Lord Brentwood or his poor dog. It had been several days since she’d seen the viscount, and she hadn’t received a note from him saying Prissy had been found. She had managed to drag her aunt to the park twice more to look for the dog, with no luck. She hoped with all her heart the Pomeranian was back home and the arrogant viscount had just failed to notify her. She would make a point to ask him about Prissy tonight.

Every time Gabrielle thought about seeing Lord Brentwood at Lady Windham’s party later in the evening, her stomach would quiver excitedly. She didn’t understand why her attraction to him was so great. She only knew she had never felt this way about any other man.

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.”