The Lady Forfeits
Carole Mortimer
COUNTESS UNDER DURESS! Lady Diana Copeland has hot-footed it to London to tell her new guardian, Lord Faulkner, exactly what she thinks of his outrageous marriage demands! Well, with her two flighty sisters having run off, no one else is going to do it… Surely this magnificent man with a naughty glint in his eye can’t be the pompous old fool she was expecting?Inhaling deeply, Diana fights not to get lost in the depths of Lord Faulkner’s intoxicating gaze… Or to make the worst forfeit – by agreeing to be the Lord’s new Countess! The Copeland Sisters Flouting convention, flirting with danger…
Diana sipped her tea delicately before answering. ‘Surely the reason for my being here is obvious, my lord?’
‘Perhaps to make enquiries about your two sisters?’
‘That was my first concern, yes.’
‘And your second?’ That nerve was once again pulsing in Gabriel’s jaw, and if he was not mistaken he was developing a twitch in his left eyelid too!
Diana sat forward to carefully place her empty teacup down upon the silver tray, that slight adjustment in her pose revealing more of the deep swell of her creamy breasts. Full and plump breasts, Gabriel noted admiringly, and slightly at odds with the slenderness of the rest of her, revealed by the cut of her gown. Born and raised in the country or not, Diana Copeland was every inch a lady, he noted as his gaze trailed down her graceful slim arms and her elegant hands in their white lace gloves. A self-confident and outspoken young lady who—
‘My second reason for awaiting your arrival here is, of course, that I have decided to accept your offer of marriage.’
AUTHOR NOTE
I’ve always delighted in reading stories of love and adventure set in the Regency period, and it really is a dream come true for me to now be able to write these stories myself. To be able to indulge that love to the full, to live in that period for months at a time, if only in my imagination. In fact, it’s sometimes been a shock to come back to the reality of modern times and realise that, yes, I do have washing to put on, food shopping to do, and dinner to cook for my husband and all those sons!
I really hope that you enjoy reading Diana’s story, and about the unlikely Earl who falls in love with her, as much as I have enjoyed being a part of their lives.
Look for
The Lady Confesses Coming soon in
The Copeland Sisters
CAROLE MORTIMER was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978, and has now written over one hundred and fifty books for Harlequin Mills & Boon®. Carole has six sons: Matthew, Joshua, Timothy, Michael, David and Peter. She says, ‘I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live in a lovely part of England.’
Previous novels by the same author:
In Mills & Boon
Historical Romance:
THE DUKE’S CINDERELLA BRIDE*
THE RAKE’S INDECENT PROPOSAL*
THE ROGUE’S DISGRACED LADY*
LADY ARABELLA’S SCANDALOUS MARRIAGE*
THE LADY GAMBLES**
*The Notorious St Claires **The Copeland Sisters
You’ve read aboutThe Notorious St Clairesin Regency times. Now you can read about the new generation in Mills & Boon
Modern
Romance:
The Scandalous St ClairesThree arrogant aristocrats—ready to be tamed! JORDAN ST CLAIRE: DARK AND DANGEROUS THE RELUCTANT DUKE TAMING THE LAST ST CLAIRE
Carole Mortimer has written a further 150 novels for Modern
Romance.
And in Mills & Boon
HistoricalUndone!eBooks:
AT THE DUKE’S SERVICE
CONVENIENT WIFE, PLEASURED LADY
Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks?
Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
The Lady
Forfeits
Carole Mortimer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
With thanks to all at HMB for helping to make my dream a reality.
Chapter One
‘Good God, Nathaniel, what have you done to yourself?’ Lord Gabriel Faulkner, Earl of Westbourne, exclaimed with less than his usual haughty aplomb.
Gabriel had come to an abrupt halt in the doorway of the bedchamber on first sighting his friend as he lay prostrate upon the bed. Lord Nathaniel Thorne’s, Earl of Osbourne’s, face was an array of cuts and rainbow-coloured bruises; a wide bandage about the bareness of his muscled chest attested to the possibility of several ribs also being broken.
‘Begging your pardon, ma’am.’ Gabriel recovered himself enough to turn and give an apologetic bow to the lady standing in the hallway beside him.
‘Not at all, my lord,’ Mrs Gertrude Wilson, Osbourne’s aunt, dismissed briskly. ‘I suffered the same feelings of shock upon first seeing the extent of my nephew’s injuries four days ago.’
‘Would the two of you stop discussing me as if I were not here?’ The patient was obviously less than pleased with this development.
‘The physician said you are to rest, Nathaniel,’ his aunt instructed sternly before turning that same steely-eyed attention on Gabriel. ‘I will leave the two of you to talk now, my lord. But for no longer than ten minutes,’ she warned. ‘As you see, Nathaniel is more in need of peace and quiet than conversation.’ She turned back into the hallway. ‘Come along, Betsy,’ she added. ‘It is time for Hector’s walk.’
Gabriel was rendered completely mystified by this last comment until another figure stepped out from the shadows of the hallway: a young, slender girl, with ebony curls surrounding the pale oval of a face made beautiful by huge blue eyes, clutching a small white dog in her arms.
‘If I have to suffer much more of this mollycoddling I will very likely resort to wringing someone’s neck,’ Nathaniel grumbled as soon as his aunt and her companion had departed and the two gentlemen were at last left alone in the bedchamber. ‘It is so good to see you, Gabe,’ he added more warmly as he struggled to sit up, the grimace on his face evidence, despite his denials, that it was a painful business.
‘Stay where you are, man.’ Gabriel crossed to his friend’s bedside, the usual look of determination now back upon a haughtily handsome face dominated by shrewd midnight-blue eyes. Tall and dark, and dressed in a perfectly tailored black superfine, silver waistcoat and grey pantaloons above black Hessians, the Earl of Westbourne gave every appearance of being the fashionable English gentleman, despite having spent the last eight years roaming the Continent.
Osbourne relaxed back against the many pillows behind him. ‘I had thought it was your intention to go straight to Shoreley Park when you arrived from Venice, rather than come up to London, Gabe? Which begs the question—?’
‘I believe your aunt has advised that you rest, Nate,’ Gabriel murmured, arching one arrogant brow.
Osbourne scowled. ‘Having summarily removed me from my own home and into her own cloying care, I believe if my Aunt Gertrude were to have her way she would now have me tied to the bed and all visitors refused entry.’
Despite his friend’s grumbling, Gabriel realised Nate’s aunt had done the correct thing as Nate so obviously found any movement extremely painful and couldn’t fend for himself. ‘What happened to you, Nate?’ he asked as he folded his elegant length on to the chair placed beside the bed.
The other man grimaced. ‘Well, despite what you said when you first saw me, I certainly did not do this to myself.’
But having served with Osbourne in the King’s army for five years, Gabriel knew better than most how proficient Osbourne was with both sword and pistol. ‘So how did it happen then?’
‘A little … disagreement outside Dominic’s new club, with four pairs of fists and the same amount of hobnailed boots.’
‘Ah.’ Gabriel nodded. ‘And would these four sets of fists and hobnailed boots have any connection to the gossip now circulating about town concerning the sudden demise of a certain Mr Nicholas Brown?’
The other man gave him an appreciative grin. ‘You have seen Dominic, then?’ He referred to their mutual friend, Dominic Vaughn, Earl of Blackstone, who had won a gambling club called Nick’s off a rogue named Nicholas Brown, who had then tried to sabotage and threaten Dominic any way he could until Dominic had had to deal with him in no uncertain terms.
‘Unfortunately not. I called at Blackstone House on my arrival in town earlier this morning and was informed that Dominic was not at home. That he has, in fact, gone into the country for several days.’ Gabriel looked thoughtful.
The three men had been friends since their schooldays together, that friendship continuing despite Gabriel’s sudden banishment to the Continent eight years ago. He dearly hoped that Dominic’s sudden departure from town did not mean his friend was about to face the same fate after being forced to shoot dead that scoundrel Nicholas Brown …
‘It is not at all what you think, Gabe.’ Nathaniel’s grin had widened as he reached for the letter on the bedside table and handed it to the other man. ‘The authorities have accepted Dominic’s account of what took place between himself and Brown; it would appear that Dominic is even now travelling into Hampshire with the intention of visiting the family of the woman he has every intention of making his wife. Look, see what he wrote to me before he left.’
Gabriel quickly scanned the contents of the missive from their friend. A brief, unhelpful letter, obviously written in a hurry, with little real information—apart from the news that Dominic had indeed gone into Hampshire with the intention of asking permission from this woman’s guardian for the two of them to marry. ‘And who, pray, is Miss Morton?’ He placed Dominic’s letter lightly back on the bedside table.
‘An absolute beauty.’ Osbourne’s eyes lit up appreciatively. ‘Not that it was apparent immediately, of course, because of the jewelled mask and ebony wig she wore when I first saw her. But once they had been removed—’
‘She was wearing a mask and wig?’ Gabriel repeated in astonishment.
Osbourne looked less sure of himself in the face of that Gabriel’s utter incredulity. ‘She was singing at Nick’s the evening the fight broke out, and so Dom and I had no choice but to step in and—’ He broke off as Gabriel raised a silencing hand.
‘Let me see if I have understood you correctly,’ Gabriel said grimly. ‘Are you really telling me that Blackstone is about to ask for the hand in marriage of a woman who, until a short time ago, sang in a gentlemen’s gambling club disguised in a jewelled mask and ebony wig?’ His tone had gone positively icy with disapproval.
‘I—well—yes, I suppose I am …’ Osbourne confirmed uneasily.
‘Has Dominic completely taken leave of his senses? Or perhaps he also received a blow to the head from one of those fists or hobnailed boots?’ Gabriel exploded. He could envisage no other explanation for his incredibly eligible friend even contemplating proposing marriage to a singer in a gambling club—no matter how beautiful she was!
Nathaniel gave a shrug. ‘His letter says he will explain all upon his return to town.’
‘By which time it will no doubt be too late to save him from this reckless venture; no guardian of such a woman would even consider turning down an offer of marriage from an earl. In fact, I would not be at all surprised if Dominic does not return to town already married to the chit.’ Gabriel scowled his displeasure at the thought of his friend’s obvious entrapment by this “absolute beauty”.
‘I had not thought of it in quite that way.’ Nathaniel frowned his own concern. ‘She seemed very much the lady of quality when I spoke with her.’
‘My dear Nate, I may have been absent from London society for some years,’ Gabriel drawled drily, ‘but I do not believe it has changed so much that ladies of quality now seek employment in gentlemen’s gambling clubs.’
‘Hmm.’ Nathaniel considered the matter further.
‘Perhaps, as you are travelling into Hampshire yourself, you might seek Dominic out and—’
‘My original plan to go to Shoreley Park no longer stands.’ Gabriel’s mouth tightened at the thought of the conversation that had taken place earlier that morning in the offices of his lawyer, that had succeeded in altering all his plans. ‘I arrived back in England only hours ago, to find an envoy from my lawyer awaiting me upon the quayside in possession of a letter requesting that I come to town immediately and meet with him. It would appear that the three Lady Copelands—having, as you are well aware, all decided to refuse my offer of marriage—have now chosen to absent themselves from Shoreley Park completely. No doubt in anticipation of my arrival there.’
It was an occurrence that did not please Gabriel in the slightest. Insult enough that his offer of marriage to one of his wards had been refused, sight unseen, without his now being put to the trouble of having to seek out all three of the rebellious chits!
The previous two Westbourne heirs having died at Waterloo, Gabriel had surprisingly come into the title of the Earl of Westbourne six months ago, along with guardianship of the previous earl’s three unmarried daughters. In the circumstances, and as he had a complete lack of interest in taking any other woman as his wife, Gabriel had deemed it appropriate to offer marriage to one of those daughters. Not only had they all refused him, but, to add insult to injury, they had now all taken it into their heads to defy even his guardianship. A defiance Gabriel had no intention of tolerating!
‘I called upon Dominic earlier with the intention of taking him up on his offer that I stay at Blackstone House with him when I returned to town.’ Gabriel shrugged. ‘It appears, in light of his disappearance into the country, that I shall have to make Westbourne House my home, after all.’
‘It’s been closed up these past ten years,’ Nathaniel grimaced. ‘It’s nothing but a mausoleum and it’s probably full of mice and other rodents, too.’
Gabriel was well aware of the dereliction of Westbourne House. It was the very reason he had been putting off his arrival there all morning. Once he had finished talking to his lawyer he had first called upon Dominic at Blackstone House, only to learn of the other man’s disappearance into the country. A similar visit to Nathaniel’s residence had garnered the information that he was currently residing at the home of his aunt, Mrs Gertrude Wilson, meaning he couldn’t stay with him either.
‘There’s absolutely no reason why you cannot stay at Osbourne House in my absence,’ the earl assured him, as if suddenly aware of his thoughts. ‘We could have both moved back there if my aunt had not taken it into her head to remove me to the country later this afternoon.’ He looked less than happy with the arrangements. ‘Take my advice, Gabe—never let a woman get the upper hand; she’s apt to take advantage while a man’s down.’
Gabriel had no intention of allowing a woman, any woman, to take advantage of him ever again, having learnt that hard lesson only too well eight years ago …
‘Oh, I say!’ Osbourne instantly looked contrite. ‘I did not mean to imply—’
‘No implication taken, Nate, I assure you. And kind as your offer is, I fear, as I must take up residence at Westbourne House at some time, it may as well be now.’ Gabriel rose languidly to his feet. ‘I will see if I can find someone suitable to go into Hampshire and locate Dominic, and hopefully return him to his senses before it is too late,’ he added darkly.
Society, as Gabriel knew only too well, did not, and would not, ever forgive such a social indiscretion as an earl aligning himself in marriage to a woman who had previously been a singer in a gentlemen’s gambling club.
‘Now I believe it is time I took my leave—before Mrs Wilson returns and has me forcibly ejected from the premises!’ He fastidiously straightened the lace cuff of his shirt beneath his superfine.
‘Can’t see it m’self,’ his friend snorted as he rang the bell for one of the servants to escort Gabriel down the stairs. ‘My Aunt Gertrude may have me at a disadvantage for the moment, but I very much doubt she would ever have the same effect on you.’
In truth, Gabriel had found Mrs Wilson’s polite if cool attitude towards him something of a relief after the years of being shunned by society. Obviously coming into the title of earl did make a difference! ‘Think it lucky that you have a relative who feels enough affection for you to bother herself about you,’ he said drily. His own family, such as it was, had not troubled themselves to even learn of Gabriel’s whereabouts this past eight years, let alone enquire about his health.
As Gabriel travelled in his coach to Westbourne House he considered the possibility, now he was in possession of the old and much respected title of the Earl of Westbourne, with all the wealth, estates and power that title engendered, as to whether there might be a sea change in the attitude of the family that had chosen to banish him from their sight all those years ago. Even if there was, Gabriel thought coldly, he was indifferent to becoming reacquainted with any of them.
Gabriel’s air of studied indifference suffered a severe blow, however, when he arrived at Westbourne House some minutes later.
The front door was opened by a perfectly liveried butler who, upon enquiry, informed Gabriel, “Lady Diana is not at home at the moment, my lord, but is expected back very shortly.”
Lady Diana Copeland? One of the previous Earl of Westbourne’s rebellious daughters who was supposedly missing from home? And, if so, exactly how long had she been in residence at Westbourne House?
‘The earl requests that you join him in the library immediately upon your return, my lady,’ Soames stiffly informed Lady Diana Copeland as he opened the front door to admit her. Instead the butler succeeded in bringing her to an abrupt halt so that she now stood poised upon the threshold.
‘The Earl of …?’
‘Westbourne, my lady.’
The Earl of Westbourne!
Lord Gabriel Faulkner?
Here?
Now?
And apparently awaiting her in the library …
Well, who had more right than Lord Gabriel Faulkner, the newly titled Earl of Westbourne, to be awaiting Diana in what was, after all, now his library, she scolded herself. Besides, had she not been anticipating just such an opportunity in which to personally inform the new earl exactly what she thought of both him, his blanket offer of marriage to herself and her two sisters, and the serious repercussions of that preposterous offer?
Diana stiffened her spine in preparation for that conversation. ‘Thank you, Soames.’ She continued confidently into the entrance hall before removing her bonnet and handing it and her parasol to the maid who had accompanied her on her morning errands. ‘Is my Aunt Humphries still in her rooms?’
‘She is, my lady,’ the butler confirmed evenly, his expression as unemotionally non-committal as a good butler’s should be.
Nevertheless, Diana sensed the man’s disapproval that Mrs Humphries had taken to her bed shortly after they had arrived at Westbourne House three days earlier and that she had chosen to remain there during the uproar of Diana’s efforts to ensure that the house was cleaned and polished from attic to cellar.
Diana had been unsure as to what she would find when she reached Westbourne House. Neither she, nor her two sisters, had ever been to London before, let alone stayed in what was the family home there. Their father, the previous earl, had chosen not to go there either for all of ten years before his death six months ago.
The air of decay and neglect Diana had encountered when she’d first entered Westbourne House had been every bit as bad as she had feared it might be—as well as confirming that the new earl had not yet arrived from his home in Venice to take up residence here. The few servants who remained had fallen into almost as much decay and neglect as the house in the absence of a master or mistress to keep them about their duties. An occurrence that Diana had dealt with by immediately dispensing with the servants unwilling or unable to work and engaging new ones to take their place, their first task being to restore the house to some of its obvious former glory.
A task well done, Diana noted as she looked about her with an air of satisfaction. Wood now gleamed. Floors were polished. Doors and windows had been left open for many hours each day in order to dispel the last of the musty smell.
The new earl could certainly have no complaints as to the restored comfort of his London home!
And, Diana knew, she had delayed that first meeting with the new earl for quite long enough …
‘Bring tea into the library, would you, please, Soames,’ she instructed lightly, knowing that all the servants, old as well as new, now worked with a quiet and competent efficiency under the guidance of this newly appointed butler whom she has interviewed and appointed herself.
‘Yes, my lady.’ He gave a stiff bow. ‘Would that be tea for one or two, my lady? His Lordship instructed that a decanter of brandy be brought to him in the library almost an hour ago,’ he supplied as Diana looked at him questioningly.
Diana could not help a glance at the grandfather clock in the hallway, noting that the hour was only twelve o’clock—surely much too early in the day for the earl to be imbibing brandy?
But then what did she, who had lived all of her one-and-twenty years in the country, know of London ways? Or, the earl having lived in Venice for so many years, were they Italian ways, perhaps?
Whichever of those it was, a cup of tea would do Lord Gabriel Faulkner far more good at this time of day than a glass or two of brandy. ‘For two, thank you, Soames.’ She nodded dismissively before drawing in a deep and determined breath and walking in the direction of the library.
‘Enter,’ Gabriel instructed tersely as a knock sounded on the door of the library. He stood, a glass half-full of brandy in his hand, looking out at what was undoubtedly a garden when properly tended, but at the moment most resembled a riotous jungle. Whoever had seen to the cleaning and polishing of the house—the absent Lady Diana, presumably?—had not as yet had the chance to turn her hand to the ordering of the gardens!
He turned, the sunlight behind him throwing his face into shadow, as the door was opened with a decisive briskness totally in keeping with the fashionably elegant young lady who stepped determinedly into the library and closed the door behind her.
The colour of her hair was the first thing that Gabriel noticed. It was neither gold nor red, but somewhere in between the two, and arranged on her crown in soft, becoming curls, with several of those curls allowed to brush against the smooth whiteness of her nape and brow. A softness completely at odds with the proud angle of her chin. Her eyes, the same deep blue colour of her high-waisted gown, flickered disapprovingly over the glass of brandy he held in his hand before meeting Gabriel’s gaze with the same challenge with which she now lifted her pointed chin.
‘Lady Diana Copeland, I presume?’ Gabriel bowed briefly, giving no indication, by tone or expression, of his surprise at finding her here at all when his last instruction to the three sisters was for them to remain in residence at Shoreley Park in Hampshire and await his arrival in England.
Her curtsy was just as brief. ‘My lord.’
Just the two words. And yet Gabriel was aware of a brief frisson of awareness down the length of his spine on hearing the husky tone of her voice. A voice surely not meant to belong to a young lady of society at all, but by a mistress as she whispered and cried out words of encouragement to her lover …
His gaze narrowed on the cause of these inappropriate imaginings. ‘And which of the three Lady Copelands might you be in regard to age?’ In truth, Gabriel had not been interested enough in the three wards that had been foisted on him to bother knowing anything about them apart from the fact they were all of marriageable age! Time enough for that, he had decided arrogantly, once one of them had agreed to become his wife. Except none of them had, he recalled grimly.
‘I am the eldest, my lord.’ Diana Copeland stepped further into the room, the sunlight immediately making her hair appear more gold than red. ‘And I wish to talk with you concerning my sisters.’
‘As your two sisters are not in this room at the moment I have absolutely no interest in discussing them.’ Gabriel frowned his irritation. ‘Whereas you—’
‘Then might I suggest you endeavour to make yourself interested in them?’ Diana advised coldly, the narrowness of her shoulders stiff with indignation.
‘My dear Diana—I trust, as your guardian, I may call you that?—I suggest that in future,’ he continued smoothly without bothering to wait for her answer, ‘you do not attempt to tell me what I should and should not interest myself in.’ A haughty young miss too used to having her own way presented no verbal or physical challenge for Gabriel after his years spent as an officer in the King’s army. ‘As such, I will be the one who decides what is or is not to be discussed between the two of us. The most immediate being—why it is you have chosen to come to London completely against my instructions?’ He stepped forwards into the room.
Whatever sharp reply Diana had been about to make, in answer to this reminder of the arrogance with which she viewed Lord Gabriel Faulkner’s “instructions”, remained unsaid as he stepped forwards out of the sunlight and she found herself able to see him clearly for the first time.
He was, quite simply … magnificent!
No other word could completely describe the harsh beauty of that arrogantly handsome face. He possessed a strong, square jaw, chiselled lips, high cheekbones either side of a long blade of a nose, and his eyes—oh, those eyes!—of so dark a blue that they were the blue-black of a clear winter’s night. His dark hair was fashionably styled so that it fell rakishly upon his brow and curled at his nape, his black jacket fitted smoothly across wide and muscled shoulders, the silver waistcoat beneath of a cut and style equally as fashionable, and his grey pantaloons clung to long, elegantly muscled legs, above black and perfectly polished Hessians.
Yes, Lord Gabriel Faulkner was without doubt the most fashionable and aristocratically handsome gentleman that Diana had ever beheld in all of her one-and-twenty years—
‘Diana, I am still waiting to hear your reasons for disobeying me and coming up to town.’
—as well as being the most arrogant!
Having been deprived of her mother when she was but eleven years old, and with two sisters younger than herself, it had fallen to Diana to take on the role of mother to her sisters and mistress at her father’s home; as such, she had become more inclined to give instructions than to receive them.
Her chin tilted. ‘Mr Johnston merely advised that you would call upon us at Shoreley Park as soon as was convenient after your arrival from Venice. As, at the time, he could not specify precisely when the date for that arrival might be, I took it upon myself to use my own initiative concerning how best to deal with this delicate situation.’
Haughty as well as proud, Gabriel acknowledged with some inner amusement at the return of that challenging tilt to Diana Copeland’s delicious chin. She had also, if he was not mistaken, already developed a dislike for him personally as well as for his role as guardian to herself and her sisters.
The latter Gabriel could easily understand; as he understood it from his lawyer, William Johnston, Diana had been mistress of Shoreley Park since the death of her mother, Harriet Copeland, some ten years ago. As such, she would not be accustomed to doing as she was told, least of all by a guardian she had never met.
The former—a dislike of Gabriel personally—was not unprecedented, either, but it usually took a little longer than a few minutes’ acquaintance for that to happen. Unless, of course, Lady Diana had already taken that dislike to him before she had even met him?
He quirked one dark, mocking brow. ‘And what
“delicate situation” might that be?’
A becoming blush entered the pallor of her cheeks, those blue eyes glittering as she obviously heard the mockery in his tone. ‘The disappearance of my two sisters, of course.’
‘What?’ Gabriel gave a start. He had known the Copeland sisters had chosen to absent themselves from Shoreley Park, of course, but once he was informed of Diana’s presence at Westbourne House, he had assumed that her sisters would either be staying with her here, or that she would at least have some idea of their whereabouts. ‘Explain yourself—clearly and precisely, if you please.’ A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw.
Diana gave him a withering glance. ‘Caroline and Elizabeth, being so … alarmed by your offer of marriage, have both taken it into their heads to leave the only home they have ever known and run off to heaven knows where!’
Gabriel drew in a harsh breath as he carefully placed the glass of brandy down upon the table before turning his back to once again stare out of the window. While he’d known the three Copeland sisters had absented themselves from Shoreley Park, to now learn that his offer of marriage had actually caused the two younger sisters to run away, without so much as informing their older sister of where they were going, was not only insulting but, surprisingly, had also succeeded in affecting Gabriel when he had believed himself to be beyond reacting to such slights.
He had been forced to live in disgrace all these years, always knowing that of all the people Gabriel had previously loved or cared about, only his friends Blackstone and Osbourne believed in his innocence. It had meant he hadn’t particularly cared, during his five years in the army, as to whether he lived or died. Ironically, it had been that very recklessness and daring that had succeeded in making him appear the hero in the eyes of his fellow officers and men.
Realising that two young, delicately bred ladies had been so averse to even the suggestion of marriage to the infamous Lord Gabriel Faulkner that they had chosen to flee their home rather than contemplate such a fate had laid open a wound Gabriel had believed long since healed, if not forgotten …
‘My lord?’
Gabriel breathed in deeply through his nose, hands clenched at his sides as he fought back the demons from his past, knowing they had no place in the here and now.
‘My lord, what—?’ Diana recoiled from the icy fury she could see in Gabriel’s arrogantly handsome features as he turned to glare across the room at her with eyes so dark and glittering they appeared as black as she imagined the devil’s might be.
He arched a dark brow over those piercing blue-black eyes. ‘You did not feel the same desire to run away?’
In truth, it had not even entered Diana’s head to do so. It was not in her nature to run away from trouble and she had been too busy since discovering her sisters’ absence for there to be any time to think of anything else. But if she had thought of it, what would she have done?
Ten years of being the responsible daughter, the practical and sensible one, had taken their toll on the light-hearted and mischievous girl she had once been, until Diana could not recall what it was to behave impetuously or rashly, or to consider her own needs before those of her father and sisters. She would definitely not have left.
‘No, I did not,’ she stated bluntly.
‘And why was that?’ An almost predatory look had come over his face.
Diana straightened her shoulders. ‘I—’
Quite what she had been about to say to Gabriel she could not be sure as the butler chose that moment to enter with a tray of tea things and place them on the table beside the fireplace. A tray of tea things set for two, Gabriel noted with some amusement; obviously, from that flicker of disdain he had seen on the fair Diana’s face a few minutes ago, she did not approve of the imbibing of strong liquor before luncheon, if ever.
To hell with what the Lady Diana approved of!
Gabriel moved with deliberation as he picked up the glass of brandy he had been enjoying earlier and threw the contents to the back of his throat before replacing the empty glass down upon the table beside the tea tray, the smooth yet fiery liquid warming his insides, if not his mood.
He waited until the butler had left the room before speaking again. ‘I believe you were about to tell me why it is you did not choose to run away as your sisters have done?’ he asked.
‘Would you care for tea, my lord?’
His eyes narrowed at this further delay. ‘No, I would not.’
Blonde brows rose. ‘You do not care for tea?’
‘It is certainly not one of the things I have missed in all these years of living abroad,’ he said drily.
Diana continued to calmly pour a cup of tea for herself before straightening, her gaze very direct as she looked across at him. ‘I trust your journey from Venice was uneventful, my lord?’
He gave an impatient snort. ‘If you are intending to distract me with these inanities, Diana, then I believe I should warn you that I am not in the habit of allowing myself to be distracted.’
‘I have heard you were considered something of a war hero during your years in the army,’ she commented.
She had heard of his time in the army? Had she heard something of those other, much more damaging rumours of his behaviour eight years ago, too?
Gabriel’s expression became closed as he observed Diana through narrowed lids. ‘And what else have you heard about me?’
Guileless blue eyes met his unblinkingly. ‘In what context, my lord?’
Over the years Gabriel had faced down enemies and so-called friends alike, without so much as even the slightest possibility of any of them ever getting the better of him, but this young woman, who had lived all of her life in the country, nevertheless showed no hesitation in challenging him.
‘In any context, madam,’ he finally replied.
Slender shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug. ‘I make a point of never listening to idle gossip, my lord. But even if I did,’ she continued, just as Gabriel felt himself starting to relax, ‘I fear I have not been in town long enough, nor is my acquaintance wide enough as yet, to have had the time or opportunity to be made privy to any … confidences.’
If Diana Copeland feared anything, then Gabriel would be interested to learn what that something was. She had certainly shown no hesitation as yet in speaking her mind, clearly and often! And if Gabriel had his way, this young lady would be returning to the country long before she had the opportunity to become “privy to any confidences” …
She raised one delicately arched brow. ‘Perhaps you would care to enlighten me?’
She was good, Gabriel recognised admiringly. Very good, in fact. She showed just the right amount of calm uninterest to indicate that the subject on which they spoke was of little or no relevance to her. If Gabriel had been less sensitive to the subject himself, he might even have been fooled by her …
‘Not at this moment, no.’ His jaw tightened. ‘Nor have I forgotten our original subject.’
‘Which was …?’
He drew in a deep and controlling breath, even as his hands flexed impatiently at his sides. ‘I wish to know why, instead of disappearing before my arrival in England as your sisters have obviously chosen to do, you have come to stay at Westbourne House instead?’
She straightened haughtily. ‘Are you, as the new owner of this property, expressing the sentiment that I no longer have that right?’
Gabriel made another attempt to regain control of the conversation. Something he was finding it harder and harder to do the longer it continued! ‘No, I am not saying that. As my ward you are, of course, perfectly at liberty to continue using any of the Westbourne homes or estates. It is only that, in this case, you must have been aware that once I had learnt you weren’t in Shoreley Park, Westbourne House was sure to be my first choice of residence?’
‘I was aware of that, yes.’
‘Well?’ Gabriel found himself becoming more and more frustrated with this conversation.
She sipped her tea delicately before answering. ‘Surely the reason for my being here is obvious, my lord?’
‘Perhaps to make enquiries about your two sisters?’
‘That was my first concern, yes.’
‘And your second?’ That nerve was once again pulsing in Gabriel’s jaw, and if he was not mistaken, he was developing a twitch in his left eyelid too!
Diana sat forwards to carefully place her empty teacup down upon the silver tray, that slight adjustment in her pose revealing more of the deep swell of her creamy breasts. Full and plump breasts, Gabriel noted admiringly, and slightly at odds with the slenderness of the rest of her revealed by the cut of her gown.. Born and raised in the country or not, Diana Copeland was every inch a lady, he noted as his gaze trailed down her graceful slim arms and her elegant hands in their white-lace gloves. A self-confident and outspoken young lady who—
‘My second reason for awaiting your arrival here is, of course, that I have decided to accept your offer of marriage.’
If Gabriel had still been enjoying his brandy at that moment, then he would surely have choked on it!
Chapter Two
Diana remained outwardly calm as she stood up to cross the room with purpose and rearrange the flowers in the vase that stood upon the small table near the window, having averted her face, she hoped, before any of the inner trepidation she felt in having voiced her acceptance of this man’s offer of marriage could be revealed.
His lordship’s surprise on hearing that acceptance had been all too obvious in the way those midnight-blue eyes had widened incredulously, followed by his stunned silence.
At any other time Diana might have felt a certain satisfaction in having rendered speechless a man of Lord Gabriel Faulkner’s obvious arrogance and sophistication. Unfortunately, in this case, and on this particular subject, she would have welcomed almost any other response from him.
Perhaps, as Diana had initially refused his offer, the earl had now decided to withdraw it? In which case, she would not only have caused herself embarrassment, but also placed him in the awkward position of having to extricate himself from an unwanted engagement.
If that incredulity was for another reason, such as now that he had actually met her, the new Earl of Westbourne found either her looks or her character unsuitable in his future countess, then Diana was not sure—following other hurtful events of this past week—that she would be able to withstand the humiliation.
‘Correct me if I am wrong, but did you not say you are the eldest of the Copeland sisters?’ he finally managed to say.
A frown creased Diana’s brow as she turned. ‘I did, yes …’
He looked a little bemused. ‘My lawyer led me to believe that the eldest of Copeland sisters was already betrothed. Is that not correct?’
Diana drew in a sharp breath even as she felt the warmth colouring her cheeks. ‘Then he was misinformed, my lord. I am not, nor have I ever been, formally betrothed. Nor do I have any idea how Mr Johnston could even have heard such a thing,’ she added waspishly.
Gabriel studied her closely, noting that high colour in her cheeks, the proud almost defiant tilt to her chin, and the challenging sparkle in those sky-blue eyes. He wondered as to the reason for them. Just as he also questioned the precise and careful way in which she had dismissed the existence of any betrothal …
His mouth firmed. ‘I believe Johnston was told of the betrothal by one of your sisters.’
‘Indeed?’ Blond brows rose haughtily. ‘Then it would seem that the man was not misinformed, after all, but merely misunderstood the information given to him.’
Somehow he did not think so … He had inherited William Johnston, along with the title, estates and guardianship of the three Copeland sisters, from their father, Marcus Copeland, the previous Earl of Westbourne. The lawyer was a precise and self-satisfied little man whom Gabriel did not particularly like, but at the same time he believed the lawyer would make it a matter of professional pride never to be misinformed or mistaken concerning information he gave to one of his wealthy and titled clients. So why was this betrothal no more?
Gabriel looked at her directly. ‘Was it you or the young gentleman who had a change of heart?’
‘I have just told you there was no gentleman!’ she protested.
‘A young man, then. One who no doubt found the prospect of marriage to a titled young lady whose fortunes now rested on the goodwill of her guardian a far different marriage prospect than the eldest daughter of a wealthy earl?’ Gabriel enquired, eyeing her knowingly.
Diana withstood that gaze for as long as she could before turning away abruptly, determined he should not see the tears that now glistened in her eyes and on her lashes.
Damn the man!
No—damn all men!
And most especially Malcolm Castle for having the backbone of a jellyfish!
She and Malcolm had grown up together in the village of Shoreley. Had played together as children. Danced together at the local assemblies once they were old enough to attend. They’d taken walks together on crisp winter days and fine summer evenings. Diana had even allowed Malcolm the liberty of stealing her very first kiss after he had declared his love for her.
She had believed herself to be equally as smitten. Her father had shown no disapproval of their deepening friendship. Malcolm’s parents, the local squire and his wife, were obviously thrilled at the idea of a possible match between their son and the eldest daughter of the wealthy Earl of Westbourne. All had seemed perfect.
Except, as his lordship had just pointed out so cruelly, the penniless eldest daughter of the previous Earl of Westbourne had not been nearly as appealing as a prospective wife to Malcolm, or to his parents. Diana’s father had not expected to die so suddenly and had not set his affairs in order with regard to his daughters. Financially, they were completely at the mercy of the new earl’s goodwill—and as he had been away from society for so long, Lord Gabriel Faulkner was an unknown quantity.
Diana had, of course, noted that Malcolm’s visits to Shoreley Park had become less frequent after her father died. There had been no suggestions of their walking out together, let alone the stealing of a kiss or two, and of course there had been no attending the local assemblies because Diana and her sisters were in mourning. But Diana had not been concerned, had believed Malcolm’s absence to be out of consideration for her recent bereavement and nothing else.
Until the previous week when Diana had learnt—from inadvertently overhearing two of the housemaids indulging in idle gossip—of the announcement of Malcolm’s betrothal to a Miss Vera Douglas, the daughter of a wealthy tradesman who had recently bought a house in the area.
To add insult to injury, Malcolm had called to see Diana that very same afternoon, full of apologies for not having told her of the betrothal himself, and insisting that it was his parents who had pushed for this other marriage rather than himself, and that, in spite of everything, it was still Diana that he loved.
Diana could perhaps have forgiven Malcolm if he had found himself smitten with love for another woman, but to hear from his own lips that he was only marrying this other wealthy young woman because his parents wished it was beyond enduring. A jellyfish, indeed! And one that she knew she could inwardly congratulate herself on being well rid of.
Except Malcolm’s defection had left her pride in tatters and made her the object of pitying looks every time she so much as ventured out into the village. So she had decided, with her usual air of practicality, that the perfect way in which to dispel such gossip would be if she were to accept, after all, the offer of marriage from Lord Gabriel Faulkner, seventh Earl of Westbourne. Marriage to any man—even taking into account that past scandal connected to Gabriel, which Diana’s neighbours had hinted at, but never openly discussed—surely had to be better than everyone believing she had been passed over for the daughter of a retired tradesman!
‘Am I correct in thinking that the dissolution of your previous engagement is the only reason you have now decided to accept my own offer of marriage?’ that taunting earl now prompted irritatingly.
How could Diana have known, when she so sensibly made her decision to accept his lordship’s offer, how wickedly handsome he was? How tall and muscular? How fashionably elegant?
How irritatingly perceptive to have guessed within minutes of her announcing her acceptance of his offer as to the real reason for her change of mind!
‘It was made more than clear that one of us must accept your offer if we wished to continue living at Shoreley Park,’ she informed him defensively.
Gabriel frowned darkly. ‘Made clear by whom, exactly?’
‘Mr Johnston, of course.’
Gabriel could see no ‘of course’ about it. ‘Explain, if you please.’
She gave an impatient huff. ‘Your lawyer stated on his last visit to us that, if we all continued to refuse your offer, we might find ourselves not only penniless, but also asked to remove ourselves from our home.’
Gabriel’s jaw tensed and he felt that nerve once again pulsing in his cheek. ‘Those are the exact words he used when speaking with you?’
Diana gave a haughty inclination of her golden-red head. ‘I am not in the habit of lying, my lord.’
If that truly were the case—and Gabriel had no reason to believe that it was not—then William Johnston had far exceeded his authority. It was not the fault of the Copeland sisters that they had no brother to inherit the title and estates, or that their father had not seen fit to secure their futures himself in the event of his death.
Damn it, Gabriel had only made his offer of marriage at all out of a sense of fairness, appreciating that, but for fickle fate, one of the Copeland sisters’ own cousins would have inherited the title rather than a complete stranger. A cousin, one would hope, who would have treated the previous earl’s daughters as fairly as Gabriel was attempting to do.
His mouth thinned. ‘I have no intention of asking you or your sisters to leave your home, either now or in the future.’
Diana looked confused. ‘But Mr Johnston was very precise concerning—’
‘Mr Johnston obviously spoke out of turn.’ Gabriel’s expression was grim as he anticipated his next conversation with the pompous little upstart who had so obviously put the fear of God into the Copeland sisters that they had felt as trapped as cornered animals. ‘This is the reason your two sisters have run away?’
‘I believe it was … the catalyst, yes.’
Gabriel eyed her curiously. ‘But only the catalyst?’
Diana grimaced. ‘My sisters have found life at Shoreley Park somewhat limiting these past few years. Do not misunderstand me,’ she added hastily as Gabriel raised his brows. ‘Caroline and Elizabeth were both dutiful daughters. Accepted the reasons for our father’s decision not to give any of us a London Season, or indeed his wish to not introduce us into London society at all—’
‘Am I right in thinking your father made that decision based on your mother’s behaviour ten years ago?’ he interrupted gently.
Blond lashes lowered over those sky-blue eyes. ‘Our father certainly blamed the … excesses of London society for my mother having left us, yes.’
Circumstances meant that Gabriel himself had not been part of that society for a number of years, but nevertheless he could understand Copeland’s concern for his three no doubt impressionable daughters. ‘He did not fear that keeping you and your sisters shut away in Hampshire might result in the opposite of what he intended? That one or all of you might be tempted into doing exactly as your mother had done and run away to London?’
‘Certainly not!’ Her reply was both quick and indignant. ‘As I have said, Caroline and Elizabeth found life in the country somewhat restricting, but they would never have hurt our father by openly disobeying him.’
‘They obviously did not feel the same reluctance where I am concerned,’ Gabriel pointed out with a rueful grimace. ‘Your presence here would seem to imply that you believe your sisters to have finally come to London now.’
In truth, Diana had no idea where her sisters had gone after they’d left Shoreley Park. But having searched extensively locally, with no joy, London, with all its temptations and excitement, had seemed the next logical choice. Except Diana had not realised until she arrived here quite how large and busy a city London was. Or how difficult it would be to locate two particular young ladies amongst its sprawling population.
‘I believed it to be a possibility I might find at least one of them here. My sisters did not leave together, you see,’ she explained as Gabriel once again raised arrogantly questioning brows. ‘Caroline disappeared first, with Elizabeth following two days later. Caroline has always been the more impulsive of the two.’ She gave an affectionate if exasperated sigh.
Gabriel’s face darkened ominously. ‘They had the good sense to bring their maids with them, I hope?’
Diana winced. ‘I believe they both thought that a maid might try to hinder their departure—’
‘You are telling me that they are both likely somewhere here in London completely unprotected?’ The earl looked scandalised at the prospect.
Diana was no less alarmed now that she had actually arrived in London and become aware of some of the dangers facing a young woman alone here—over-familiarity and robbery being the least of them. ‘I am hoping that is not the case, and that the two of them had made some sort of pact to meet up once they were here.’ Rather a large hope, considering Elizabeth had seemed as surprised as Diana—and resentful—by Caroline’s sudden disappearance. ‘In any case, I am sure they will have come to no harm. That we may even one day all come to laugh about this adventure.’
Gabriel was not fooled for a moment by Diana’s words of optimism and could clearly see the lines of worry creasing her creamy brow. It was a worry he, knowing only too well of the seedy underbelly of London, now shared. ‘I trust you did not also come to London unchaperoned?’
‘Oh, no,’ she assured him hurriedly. ‘My Aunt Humphries and both our maids accompanied me here.’
‘Your Aunt Humphries?’
‘My father’s younger sister. She was married to a naval man, but unfortunately he was killed during the Battle of Trafalgar.’
‘And am I right in thinking that she now resides with you in Hampshire?’
‘Since her husband’s death, yes.’
Good Lord, it seemed he did not have just three young, unruly wards to plague him, but an elderly widow he was also responsible for! ‘And where is your aunt now?’
She looked apologetic. ‘She does not care for London and has stayed in her rooms since our arrival.’
Thereby rendering her of absolutely no use whatsoever as a chaperon to her niece! ‘So,’ Gabriel announced heavily, ‘if I am to understand this correctly, your two sisters having run away, you have now decided to offer yourself up as a marital sacrifice in the hopes that, once they learn of our betrothal, they will be encouraged to return home?’
Diana met his gaze steadily. ‘It is my hope, yes.’
Gabriel gave a hard and humourless smile. ‘Your courage is to be admired, madam.’
She looked startled. ‘My courage?’
‘I am sure, even in the relative safety of Hampshire, that you cannot have remained unaware of the fact that you are considering marriage to a man that society has wanted nothing to do with this past eight years?’
‘I have heard … rumours and innuendo, of course,’ she admitted gravely.
Gabriel would wager that she had! ‘And this does not concern you?’
Of course it concerned her. But if no one could be persuaded to tell her of this past scandal, what was she expected to do about it? ‘Should it have done?’ she asked slowly.
He gave a bored shrug. ‘Only you can know the answer to that.’
Diana frowned slightly. ‘Perhaps if you were to enlighten me as to the nature of the scandal?’
Those sculptured lips twisted bitterly. ‘And why on earth would you suppose I’d ever wish to do that?’
Diana stared up at him in frustration. ‘Surely it would be better for all concerned if you were to inform me of your supposed misdeeds yourself, rather than have me learn of them from a possibly malicious third party?’
‘And if I prefer not to inform you?’ he drawled.
She gave him a frustrated look. ‘Did you kill someone, perhaps?’
He smiled without humour. ‘I have killed too many someones to number.’
‘I meant apart from in battle, of course!’ Those blue eyes sparkled with rebuke for his levity.
‘No, I did not.’
‘Have you taken more than one wife at a time?’
‘Definitely not!’ Gabriel shuddered at the mere suggestion of it; he considered the taking of one wife to be ominous enough—two would be utter madness!
‘Been cruel to a child or animal?’
‘No and no,’ he said drily.
She gave another shrug of those slender shoulders. ‘In that case I do not consider what society does or does not believe about you to be of any relevance to my own decision to accept your offer of marriage.’
‘You consider murder, bigamy and cruelty to children or animals to be the worst of a man’s sins, then?’ he asked with a bleak amusement.
‘I have no other choice when you insist on remaining silent on the subject. But, perhaps, having now made my own acquaintance,’ she suddenly looked less certain of herself, ‘you have decided you would no longer find marriage to me acceptable to you?’
Was that anxiety Gabriel could now see in her expression? Had the young fool who had rejected her, no doubt because of that change in her circumstances, also robbed her of a confidence in her own attraction? If he had, then the man was not only a social-climbing fortune-hunter, but blind with it!
Diana Copeland was without doubt beautiful—certainly not ‘fat and ugly’ as Osbourne had suggested she might be when he’d first learnt of Gabriel’s offer for one of the Copeland sisters without even laying eyes on them! Not only were her looks without peer, but she was obviously intelligent, too—and capable. Gabriel was fully aware he had her to thank for having arrived at a house that was not rodent infested and musty smelling, and with servants who were quietly efficient. She was, in fact, everything that an earl could ever want or desire in his countess.
Also, having now ‘made her acquaintance’, Gabriel had realised another, rather unexpected benefit if he should decide to make her his wife … No doubt that golden-red hair, when released from its pins, would reach down to the slenderness of her waist. Just as those high, full breasts promised to fit snugly into the palms of his hands and the slenderness of her body would benefit from a lengthy exploration with his seeking lips.
Obviously it was an intimacy that Diana’s cool haughtiness did not encourage Gabriel to believe she would welcome between the two of them at present— because she was still in love with the social climbing fortune-hunter, perhaps?—but she would no doubt allow it if she were to become his wife.
Diana felt her nervousness deepening at the earl’s continued silence. Nor could she read anything of his thoughts as he continued to look at her with those hooded midnight-blue eyes.
Was she so unattractive, then? Had her role as mistress of her father’s estate and mother to her two younger sisters this past ten years rendered her too practical in nature and, as a result, plain? Was Gabriel Faulkner even now formulating the words in which to tell her of his lack of interest in her?
‘You realise that any marriage between the two of us would require you to produce the necessary heirs?’
Diana looked up sharply at that softly spoken question and felt that delicate colour once again warming her cheeks as she saw the speculative expression in those dark eyes. She swallowed before speaking. ‘I realise that is one of the reasons for your wishing to take a wife, yes.’
‘Not one of the reasons, but the only reason I would ever contemplate such an alliance,’ Gabriel Faulkner bit out, his arrogantly hewn features now cold and withdrawn.
Diana moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I am fully aware of a wife’s duties, my lord.’
That ruthless mouth compressed. ‘I find that somewhat surprising, considering your own mother’s complete lack of interest in them.’
Her eyes widened at the harshness of his remark. Her chin rose proudly. ‘Were you acquainted with my mother, sir?’
‘Not personally, no.’ His disdainful expression clearly stated he had not wished to be either.
‘Then you can have no idea as to why she left her husband and children, can you?’
‘Is there any acceptable excuse for such behaviour?’ he countered.
As far as Diana and her sisters were concerned? No, there was not. As for their father … Marcus Copeland had never recovered from his wife leaving him for a younger man and had become a shadow of his former robust and cheerful self, shutting himself away in his study for hours at a time, and more often than not taking his meals there, too, when he bothered to eat at all.
No, there was no acceptable explanation for Harriet Copeland’s desertion of her family. But Diana did not appreciate having Gabriel Faulkner—a man with an acknowledged, if unspoken, scandal in his own past—point that out to her. ‘I am not my mother, sir,’ she said coolly.
‘Perhaps that is as well …’
She frowned her resentment with his continued needling. ‘If, having considered the matter, you have now changed your mind about offering for me, then I wish you would just say so. It is not necessary for you to insult my mother, a woman you admit you did not even know, whilst you are doing so!’
In truth, Gabriel had no interest whatsoever in the marriage of Marcus and Harriet Copeland; he was well aware that marriages amongst the ton were often loveless affairs, with both parties tacitly taking lovers once the necessary heirs had been produced. That Harriet had chosen to leave her family for her young lover, and was later shot and killed by that same lover when he’d found her in the arms of yet another man, was of no real consequence to the present situation.
No, the coolly composed and forthright Diana Copeland, whilst as head-turningly beautiful as the infamous Harriet, was most certainly not the mother!
‘Your mother produced only daughters,’ he drawled drily.
Those blue eyes once again sparkled with temper. ‘And if she had not, then you would not be here now!’
Gabriel gave her an appreciative smile. ‘Touché.’
‘Nor is it possible for anyone to predict what children will be born into which marriage,’ she argued.
‘Also true.’ He inclined his head. ‘I was merely questioning as to whether or not you are prepared for the physical intimacy necessary to produce those children? If we have girls to begin with, we will keep trying until we have a boy.’
Diana drew in a sharp breath. It had taken several days after Malcolm’s defection, accompanied by too many of those pitying looks of neighbours and friends, for her to come around to the idea of seriously considering the offer of marriage from Lord Gabriel Faulkner.
Accepting such an offer would not only salvage some of her own pride, she had assured herself, but would also help to persuade her two sisters to return home now that the possibility of marriage to a man they did not love had been removed.
Both of them were good and practical reasons, she had decided, for her to be the one to accept Gabriel’s offer. Except she did not feel in the least practical now that she was faced with the flesh-and-blood man …
She looked at him now beneath lowered lashes, appreciating the way his perfectly tailored clothing emphasised the width of his shoulders, his muscled chest, the narrowness of waist, and his powerful thighs and long legs, before raising her gaze back to that wickedly handsome face, heat suffusing her cheeks as she saw the look in the dark and taunting eyes that stared unblinkingly back at her. A quiver of … something shivered down the length of her spine as she found herself unable to look away from those mesmerising midnight-blue eyes.
Whether it was a shiver of apprehension or anticipation she could not be sure. Although the tingling sensation she suddenly felt in her breasts would seem to indicate the latter.
Diana found that slightly shocking when he had not so much as touched her. She had only ever known a pleasant warmth when Malcolm kissed her, not this blazing heat at just a look from Gabriel … ‘As I have stated, I believe I know, and am willing to participate in, all the duties expected of me as a wife,’ she said stiffly.
‘Perhaps we should test that theory before making any firm decision?’ he drawled.
Diana did not at all care for the return of that predatory glint to his navy-blue eyes. ‘Test that theory how?’
He raised speculative brows. ‘I suggest we try a simple kiss to begin with.’
She gave a start. ‘To begin with?’
‘Exactly.’
Diana swallowed hard, pride and pride alone preventing her from taking a step back as Gabriel crossed the room with a catlike tread until he stood only inches in front of her. So close, in fact, that she was totally aware of the heat of his body and the clean male smell of him that tantalised and roused the senses, her breath catching in her throat when she finally looked up into his compelling face.
Those midnight-blue eyes were hooded by lids fringed with long, dark lashes, his beautiful high cheekbones as sharp as blades on either side of his aristocratic nose, sculptured lips slightly parted, his jaw square and uncompromising.
In contrast, Diana’s own lips had gone suddenly dry, her breathing non-existent—in fact, she was starting to feel slightly light-headed from a lack of air in her lungs! She knew instinctively that any kiss she received from this man would be nothing like that chaste meeting of the lips she had infrequently shared with Malcolm Castle.
Diana could feel her pulse start to race and a welling of excitement rising up within her breast as those powerful arms moved firmly about her waist before she was pulled up against the hardness of Gabriel’s chest and his head began to lower towards hers.
She was perfectly correct. Being kissed by Gabriel Faulkner was absolutely nothing like being kissed by Malcolm …
His arms about her waist crushed her breasts against that hard chest even as he took masterful possession of her lips with his own. His mouth moved over hers in a slow, lingering exploration before the sweep of his tongue parted her lips and he kissed her more intimately still, that skilful tongue seeking entrance in gentle, flickering movements.
Diana’s pulse continued to race, to thunder; she felt both hot and shaky as their kiss continued, her hands moving up to Gabriel’s chest with the intention of pushing him away, but instead clinging to the width of his shoulders, able to feel the flexing of muscles beneath his jacket as she did so. No doubt he could feel her own trembling, as his hands moved caressingly down the length of her spine before cupping her bottom to pull her thighs up against his muscular ones.
Nothing that had gone before—not Malcolm’s kisses, or the talk Aunt Humphries had given concerning the marriage bed on Diana’s sixteenth birthday; a talk Diana had dutifully passed on to her two sisters once she’d considered them both old enough to understand—had prepared her for the heat of Gabriel’s kisses, or her complete awareness of that hardness that throbbed between his thighs.
Gabriel began to draw the kiss to a close as he sensed Diana’s rising panic at the intimacy, knowing by the shyness of her responses that the fool who had passed her over had never even bothered to so much as kiss her properly, let alone introduce her to physical pleasure.
He looked down at her beneath hooded lids, having firmly assured himself of his own willingness to introduce her to every physical pleasure imaginable, before allowing his arms to drop from about the slenderness of her waist. He stepped away from her, his expression deliberately unreadable. ‘Perhaps now would be the appropriate time to tell you that you did not ask me the correct question a few minutes ago when you were asking me for details of that past scandal.’
She blinked up at her, her cheeks still flushed. ‘No?’
Gabriel’s expression was grim. ‘No.’
She shook her head as if to clear it. ‘Then what should I have asked you?’
‘Whether I have ever been accused of taking a young girl’s innocence and then refusing to marry her when she found herself with child?’
Diana’s throat moved convulsively as she swallowed, knowing that her cheeks were no longer flushed, but deathly pale. ‘And have you been accused of that?’
‘Oh, yes.’ His teeth showed in a humourless smile.
She knew a brief moment’s panic, the blood pounding in her veins, the palms of her hands suddenly damp inside her gloves, her legs feeling slightly shaky. There was no possibility of her, or of any decent woman, marrying a man so unfeeling, so without honour—No, wait one moment, she told herself sternly. Gabriel had said he’d been accused of such a heinous crime; he had not admitted to being guilty of it …
She looked up at him searchingly. His was a hard and implacable face, the face of a man who would not suffer fools gladly. Those midnight-blue eyes were equally as cold and unyielding. But it was not a sly or malicious face—more one that defied anyone to ever question him or his actions. As he was now daring her to do?
She drew in a shaky breath. ‘You said you were accused of it, not that you were guilty.’
Those dark eyes narrowed. ‘I did say that, yes,’ he allowed softly.
‘And so are you indeed innocent of that crime?’
Gabriel gave a small, appreciative smile. Not a single member of his family had bothered to ask him that question eight years ago, choosing instead to believe Jennifer Lindsay’s version of events.
His friends Osbourne and Blackstone had not bothered to ask it either, but that was because they both knew him too well to believe he could ever behave in so ungentlemanly a fashion if he were indeed truly guilty of taking a young woman’s innocence.
That Diana Copeland, a young woman he had only just met—moreover, a young woman Gabriel had deliberately kissed with passion rather than with any consideration for her own innocence—should have asked that question was beyond belief.
Gabriel looked her straight in the eye. ‘I am.’ His gaze narrowed to steely slits as she continued to frown. ‘Having asked and been answered, you are now doubting my word on the subject?’
‘Not at all.’ She shook her head. ‘I just—What could this young girl, any young girl, possibly hope to gain by telling such a monstrous lie?’
‘As an only child I was heir to my father’s fortune and lands,’ Gabriel explained.
‘Was …?’
His mouth firmed. ‘That fortune and lands were instead left completely in my mother’s care on my father’s death six years ago. Fortunately I was not left destitute as my grandfather’s estate had been left in trust and could not be taken away from me.’
‘And this young girl’s lies are the reason your family and society treated you so harshly all those years ago?’ she pressed.
‘Yes,’ he grated.
She gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Then I can only imagine it must have been a doubly bitter pill to swallow when you knew yourself to be innocent of the crime.’
‘You only have my word for that,’ he pointed out grimly.
‘And is your word to be doubted?’ she asked delicately, eyeing him quizzically.
Gabriel frowned. ‘My dear Diana, if I truly were the man almost everyone believes me to be, then I could simply be lying again when I say, no, it is not.’
She smiled gently. ‘I do not believe so. You are a man, I think, who would tell the truth and—excuse me—to the devil with what anyone else chooses to believe!’
Yes, he was. He had always been so, and this past eight years had only deepened that resolve. But, again, it was surprising that this woman already knew him well enough to have realised and accepted that …
‘And the—the young girl,’ she spoke hesitantly. ‘What became of her?’
His mouth tightened. ‘My father paid another man to marry her.’
‘And the babe?’
That nerve pulsed once again in Gabriel’s tightly clenched jaw. ‘Lost before it was even born.’
Diana’s expression was pained. ‘How very sad.’
‘Knowing all of this, are you still of the opinion you wish to become my countess?’ he asked her directly.
Her cheeks were pale, her hair in slight disarray from their kisses, but there was still that familiar light of resolve in those sky-blue eyes. ‘You are no more responsible for what people may wrongly choose to believe of you than I can be held accountable for my mother having left her husband and three daughters.’
Gabriel’s mouth quirked. ‘The announcement of a betrothal between the two of us would certainly give society much to talk about!’
She smiled a little sadly. ‘No doubt. Perhaps, if you hope to become reconciled to society you should not, after all, contemplate taking one of Harriet Copeland’s daughters as your countess?’
Gabriel’s expression hardened. ‘I have absolutely no interest in becoming reconciled to society, or in having society be reconciled to me. Nor do I care what any of them may choose to think of me or the woman I take as my countess.’
‘Then we are in agreement?’ Diana held her breath as she waited for his answer.
‘I will have the announcement of our betrothal appear in the newspapers as soon as is possible.’ He gave a sharp inclination of his arrogant head.
This was what Diana had wanted, what she knew was necessary to salvage her own pride after Malcolm’s defection, and to encourage her sisters to return home. Yet the reality of being betrothed to the hard and unyielding Lord Gabriel Faulkner, a man beset with a past scandal that rivalled even that of Diana’s mother—worse, a man who had kissed her with such passion only minutes ago—caused her to inwardly tremble.
Whether that trembling was caused by apprehension or anticipation she was as yet unsure …
Chapter Three
‘I am seriously starting to doubt that your Aunt Humphries exists,’ Gabriel commented drily the following morning as he and Diana sat together in the small dining room, eating their breakfast attended by the quietly efficient Soames.
The previous afternoon had been taken up with various visits to the newspaper offices, the Westbourne lawyer, William Johnston, and to an old comrade in connection with Dominic Vaughn’s disappearance into the country. But Gabriel had returned home in time to change for dinner before joining Diana downstairs. Only Diana. Mrs Humphries had sent her apologies. Those same apologies had been sent down again in regard to breakfast this morning.
Diana smiled. ‘I assure you she does exist, but suffers dreadfully with her nerves. In fact, she did not wish to come to London at all and only did so because I insisted on coming here,’ she added affectionately.
Gabriel raised dark brows. ‘I am relieved she had enough sense to agree to accompany you, at least. But taking to her rooms the moment you arrived, and remaining there, is certainly not helpful. In fact, it is totally unacceptable now that I am residing here, too.’
She looked enquiringly at him. ‘Surely there can be no impropriety when you are my guardian?’
‘A guardian who is now, officially, your betrothed.’ Gabriel passed the open newspaper he had been reading across the table to her.
Diana’s hands trembled slightly as she took possession of it, searching down the appropriate column until she located the relevant announcement. The betrothal is announced between Lord Gabriel Maxwell Carter Faulkner, seventh Earl of Westbourne, Westbourne House, London, and his ward, the Lady Diana Harriet Beatrice Copeland, of Shoreley Park, Hampshire. The wedding will take place shortly at St George’s Church, Hanover Square.
There was nothing else. No naming of who Gabriel Faulkner’s parents were, or her own, just the announcement of their betrothal. Nevertheless, there was something so very real about seeing the betrothal printed in the newspaper and knowing that it would no doubt be read by hundreds of people all over London this morning as they also sat at their breakfast tables.
Not that Diana had even considered changing her mind about the betrothal since they had come to their agreement yesterday. Nor did she baulk at the comment that the marriage was to ‘take place shortly’—the sooner the better as far as she was concerned, preferably before Malcolm Castle and Miss Vera Douglas walked down the aisle together!
No, Diana had no regrets about her decision; it was only that seeing the betrothal in print also made Gabriel Faulkner so very real to her too. Not that there could really have been any doubts in her mind about that, either, after being held in his arms and kissed so passionately by him yesterday.
Just thinking about that kiss had kept her awake last night long after she had retired to her bedchamber …
Nothing in Aunt Humphries’s talk all those years ago, concerning what took place in the marriage bed, had prepared Diana for the heady sensations that had assailed her body as Gabriel had kissed and held her. The heat. The clamouring excitement. The yearning ache for something more, something she wasn’t sure of, but believed that marriage to a man of his experience and sophistication would undoubtedly reveal to her …
Gabriel watched beneath hooded lids as the colour first left Diana’s creamy cheeks before coming back again, deeper than ever. That rosy flush was practically the same colour as the gown she wore this morning, accompanied by an almost feverish glitter in those sky-blue eyes as she raised heavily lashed lids to look across the breakfast table at him. ‘You are concerned by the word “shortly” in the announcement, perhaps?’ he asked.
‘Not at all,’ she dismissed readily. ‘I would like to find my sisters first, of course, but can see no reason why the wedding should not take place immediately after that.’
‘No?’ Gabriel looked at her wickedly. ‘I had imagined that perhaps you might wish to give your young man—I trust he is a young man?—the appropriate time in which to rush to your side and admit to having made a mistake as he proclaims his everlasting love for you?’
Irritated colour now darkened Diana’s cheeks at Gabriel’s teasing tone. ‘He is a young man, yes … as well as a very stupid one. And even if he were to do that, I would not believe or trust such a claim.’ Her mouth—that deliciously full and tempting mouth—had firmed with resolve.
Gabriel leant back in his chair to look across at her speculatively. That Diana was beautiful could not be denied. That she had a firmness of will could also be in no doubt. That her nature was unforgiving where this young man was concerned he found surprising. Especially considering she had accepted Gabriel’s own claim of innocence the previous day without his having produced so much as a shred of evidence to back up that claim. Except his word …
He set his jaw. ‘Perhaps I should know the name of this young man? So that I might send him about his business if he should decide to come calling,’ he added as Diana gave him a sharp glance.
‘I trust I am perfectly capable of dealing with such a situation myself if it should ever arise,’ she retorted snippily.
Gabriel was well aware of the strength of Diana’s character—how could he not be when he knew she had acted as both mistress of her father’s house and mother to her two sisters since the age of eleven?
No, his reason for wishing to know who the young fool was who had turned away from Diana when her fortunes had changed was a purely selfish one; having secured her agreement to marry him, he had no intention of now allowing her to be persuaded into changing her mind. Firstly, because they would both be made to look incredibly foolish if the betrothal ended almost before it began. And secondly, because kissing her yesterday had shown him that marriage to her would not be the hardship he had always envisaged matrimony to be …
Beneath the coolness, and that air of practicality and efficiency she had displayed so ably by preparing Westbourne House for habitation, Gabriel had discovered a warm and passionate young woman that he would very much enjoy introducing to physical pleasure. He certainly had no intention of allowing some fortune-hunting young idiot to reappear in her life and steal her away from under his very nose. Or any other part of his anatomy!
Gabriel’s mouth compressed. ‘Nevertheless, you will refer any such situation to me.’
Diana looked irritated. ‘I feel I should warn you, my lord, that I have become accustomed to dealing with my own affairs as I see fit.’
He gave an acknowledging inclination of his dark head. ‘An occurrence that I believe our own betrothal now renders unnecessary.’
It was Diana’s first indication of how life was to change for her now that she had agreed to become Gabriel’s wife. A change she was not sure she particularly cared for. Ten years of being answerable only to herself had instilled an independence in her that she might find hard to relinquish. Even to a husband. ‘I am unused to allowing anyone to make my decisions for me,’ she reiterated.
Gabriel did not doubt it; it was because Diana was no simpering miss, no starry-eyed young debutante looking to fall in love and have that man fall equally as in love with her, that he could view their future marriage with any degree of equanimity. ‘I am sure that, given time, we will learn to deal suitably with each other.’
Diana gave a knowing smile. ‘I think by that you mean, with time, I will learn to accede to your male superiority!’
Gabriel found himself returning that smile. ‘You do not agree?’
She shook her head. ‘I do not believe you to be in the least superior to me just because you are a man. Nor is my nature such that it will allow for subservient and unquestioning obedience.’
Since meeting Diana, Gabriel had come to realise that the last thing that he desired in a wife was subservience or obedience. When he had told Osbourne and Blackstone a week or so ago of his plans to marry, Gabriel had assured them both that his marriage was a matter of obligation and expediency. Firstly, because he needed a wife, and, secondly, because of a sense of obligation to the Copeland sisters, because they had all been left without provision for their future when their father had died so unexpectedly. As such, subservience and obedience in his future wife had seemed the least that Gabriel could expect.
Having glimpsed the fire hidden beneath Diana’s cool exterior yesterday, Gabriel knew that in their marriage bed, at least, he required neither of those things!
‘My lord …?’ Diana gave him a searching glance as the silence between them lengthened uncomfortably.
Had she said too much? Been too frank about her character? But surely it was better for him to know the worst of her before they embarked on a marriage together, rather than learn of it after the event?
She had certainly believed so. But perhaps she had been a little too honest? ‘I could perhaps attempt to … quell, some of my more independent inclinations.’
‘There is no need to do so on my account, I assure you,’ he said with a twinkle in his eye before turning to dismiss the attentive Soames, waiting until the butler had left the room before continuing. ‘Diana, I had expected to be bored, at the very least, in any marriage I undertook; it is something of a relief to know that will not, after all, be the case.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You do not think it preferable to wait and perhaps marry a woman whom you love?’
‘Love?’ He managed to convey a wealth of loathing in that single word.
‘You do not believe in the emotion?’ she asked cautiously.
His top lip curled back disdainfully. ‘My dear Diana, I have discovered that love comes in many guises—and all of them false.’
She could perhaps understand Gabriel’s cynicism towards the emotion when he had been so completely ostracised after being falsely accused of taking advantage of an innocent young lady. Had he loved the young lady before she had played him false?
Yes, Diana could sympathise with him—possibly even shared his cynicism towards love. Malcolm Castle had certainly made nonsense of that emotion when he’d professed to still love Diana, but had every intention of marrying another woman!
She sighed. ‘Perhaps you are right and a marriage such as ours, based on nothing so tenuous and fickle as love, but on common sense and honesty instead, is for the best.’
Gabriel frowned as he heard the heaviness in Diana’s tone. One and twenty was very young for such a beautiful young lady to have formed such a pragmatic view on love and marriage. But perhaps, with the experience of her parents’ marriage, and her young man’s recent abandonment of her, she was perfectly justified in forming that opinion. After all, Gabriel had been but twenty years old himself when he learnt that hard lesson.
‘Which is not to say …’ he stood up slowly to move around the table to take Diana’s hand in his before pulling her effortlessly to her feet ‘… there will not be other … compensations in our marriage to make up for that lack of love.’
She blinked up at him as she obviously realised it was his intention to kiss her once again. ‘I—my lord, it is only nine o’clock in the morning!’
Gabriel threw back his head and laughed. ‘I trust, my dear, you are not about to put time limitations on when and where I may make love to you?’
Not at all. Indeed, she would dare anyone to put limitations on a man such as Gabriel Faulkner. It was only that his behaviour now deviated drastically from her Aunt Humphries’s description of what marriage would be like.
Her aunt had led her to believe that it was usual for a husband and wife to go about their daily lives separately—for the husband that involved dealing with business and correspondence in the morning and visiting his club in the afternoon, for the wife it meant dealing with the household responsibilities, such as menus of the day, answering letters, receiving visitors and returning those visits in turn, along with needlework and reading. Evenings would possibly be spent together, either at home or attending social functions, followed by returning home and retiring to their separate bedchambers.
On one, possibly two nights a week, the husband might briefly join the wife in her bedchamber, during which time it was the wife’s duty to do whatever her husband required of her. Aunt Humphries had been a little sketchy as to what that ‘whatever’ might entail, with the added advice that a husband had ‘needs’ a wife must satisfy, ‘silently and without complaint’ …
Luckily, Diana had some idea as to what those ‘needs’ might entail; her father had bred deer on the estate in Hampshire—no doubt what took place between a husband and wife in their marriage bed was not so very different from that process. Such an undignified business that it was not surprising her aunt had chosen not to discuss it!
But at no time had Diana’s aunt mentioned that a husband—or, in this particular case, a betrothed—was in the habit of stealing kisses throughout the day. Most especially the type of kisses that yesterday had made Diana’s toes curl in her satin slippers!
She straightened. ‘As I assured you yesterday, I believe I know my duty towards my future husband, my lord.’
Gabriel’s brow lowered. Damn it, he did not wish Diana to allow him to kiss her out of a sense of duty; he wanted her to now give freely what he had taken so demandingly yesterday. ‘Gabriel,’ he encouraged huskily.
That pulse was once again beating intriguingly in the slender column of her throat. ‘It would be improper of me to be so familiar until after we are wed, my lord,’ she said, her eyes lowered demurely.
His jaw clenched. ‘I believe you know me well enough by now to realise that I have no care for what is considered “proper”.’
She gave a nervous smile. ‘I am not sure—’ Her words were cut off abruptly as Gabriel lowered his head and took possession of her lips.
Full and sensuous lips that had tempted him unbearably this past hour as Diana had first sipped her tea and then bit into a slice of buttered toast smothered in honey. He’d found himself imagining heatedly what other uses those deliciously plump lips might be put to …
She tasted of that honey she had spread so liberally over her toast earlier, deliciously sweet, with an underlying heat that encouraged him to kiss her more deeply. His tongue appreciated the honey upon her lips before moving past that plumpness and into the hot, moist cavern of her mouth.
There had been no shortage of women in Gabriel’s life during his years spent on the Continent: blondes, redheads, dusky-haired and dusky-skinned Italian women, young and slightly older, all experienced, and all initially intrigued by his scandalous past, but choosing to linger after once sharing his bed in the hopes of being invited to share it again.
He had become an expert lover during those years, able to give satisfaction to even the most demanding and experienced of women. That he had never personally enjoyed anything more than the immediate satisfaction of the flesh was not the fault of any of those women; Gabriel had only allowed his physical emotions to become engaged in those trysts.
Holding Diana in his arms, moulding the soft curves of her body against his, tasting, feeding from her lips and experiencing the sweetness of her instinctive response, brought out a gentleness in Gabriel, a need to protect that he had long thought forgotten, if not completely dead—emotions that he knew from experience could be called incautious at best and dangerous at worst. Slowly introducing Diana to the pleasures of their marriage bed, melting that cool exterior, was one thing, feeling anything more than that physical pleasure himself was something Gabriel did not intend to allow to happen. No matter how tempting the honeypot!
Not liking the trend of his own thoughts one little bit, he swiftly removed his mouth from hers and raised his head before putting her firmly away from him. ‘I think we should stop there, don’t you, Diana?’
Diana felt too dazed at first to wonder why he’d ended their kiss so abruptly, but as his words penetrated that daze she instantly felt the embarrassed flush that heated her cheeks. Had her enthusiasm in responding to his love-making perhaps been inappropriate in his future countess, after all?
She stepped back, her expression becoming cool despite feeling her legs tremble slightly from the effects of that passionate kiss. ‘I believe you were the one who initiated that kiss, sir.’
He looked down his arrogant nose at her. ‘Are you questioning my right to do so?’
Diana suddenly realised that once she was Gabriel’s wife, she would have no right to question him about anything he might choose to demand of her. Could she bear that? Could she stand being nothing more than this man’s possession, his to do with whatever he wished?
If it succeeded in salving her wounded pride following Malcolm’s betrayal of the love they had professed to feel for each other, then yes, she could, she thought defiantly. ‘I apologise if you feel I lacked … decorum just now,’ she said stiffly. ‘I—I am overset, I believe, and far too emotional, both from Caroline and Elizabeth’s disappearance and seeing the announcement of our betrothal this morning.’
Gabriel felt a moment’s regret, guilt even, for what Diana evidently believed. But only for a moment—the tender emotions he had briefly felt towards her whilst kissing her were not for someone as disillusioned as he. Far better to keep some distance between them. For as much as he believed he would enjoy introducing her to all the pleasures of the flesh once they were wed, he had no wish to do so if there was any danger she might give in to romantic flights of fancy. It would only result in her knowing a worse disillusionment than she had already suffered at the hands of her fickle young man.
Gabriel stepped away and placed his hands firmly behind his back to withstand the temptation to touch her again. ‘No doubt we will receive an avalanche of visiting cards and invitations this morning following the announcement of our betrothal.’ His mouth twisted derisively. ‘The socially polite and the simply curious, all anxious to claim they were the first to receive Lord Gabriel Faulkner upon his return to London after an eight-year absence. Needless to say, I do not expect you to accept any invitations without first consulting me,’ he added.
Diana bristled with obvious indignation. ‘I may have lived all my life in the country, but even so I trust I know the correct way to behave. As such, of course I will not receive visitors, or accept any invitations, without first discussing them with you.’
He gave a hard smile. ‘My request has little to do with behaving correctly and more to do with the fact that I do not care for most of society.’
Diana was well aware of the reason for Gabriel’s dictate—‘request’ was not at all a fitting description! She also empathised with it; as the daughter of a notorious countess, Diana would no doubt come in for her own share of curiosity where society was concerned following the announcement of their betrothal. As such, she was more than happy to leave the choice of deciding which invitations they would accept or decline to Gabriel’s superior knowledge on the subject; left to her own devices, she might make a social gaffe.
She stifled a sigh. ‘I believe I will go upstairs and check upon my aunt.’
‘Perhaps whilst there you might suggest it would be a good idea if she were to join us for dinner this evening?’
Diana was aware that this was no more a ‘suggestion’ than Gabriel’s earlier dictate had been a ‘request’. ‘I will certainly enquire if she is feeling well enough to join us this evening,’ she answered coolly. She might as well start as she meant to go on; she had no intention of allowing Gabriel to simply dominate every aspect of her life, however arrogant he was.
He frowned slightly. ‘And I suppose that is the best I can hope for?’
‘It is.’ Diana met his dark gaze unblinkingly.
Gabriel gave her an appreciative smile. One thing he could say for Diana—she did not back down from any of his challenges. ‘It is my intention this morning to make discreet enquiries concerning your two sisters. I will obviously need detailed descriptions of them both …’ He listened attentively as Diana eagerly supplied him with those details. ‘Is there anything else you need to tell me before I go?’
She looked confused. ‘Such as?’
His mouth quirked ruefully. ‘Such as could either of your sisters have run off to be with a young man?’
‘Certainly not!’ Diana’s denial was immediate.
Gabriel held up his hands defensively. ‘I had to ask.’
There were high wings of indignant colour in her creamy cheeks now. ‘My sisters may have behaved rashly by running away, but I do not believe they would have been so rash as to have totally ruined their reputations, my lord.’
Gabriel wished he felt the same certainty about that as she did. Unfortunately, even if neither Caroline nor Elizabeth had initially run off to be with a man, he knew that situation could have changed. Caroline had, according to Diana, now been missing for over two weeks, and her sister Elizabeth only two days less than that. Plenty of time for unscrupulous men to have noted and taken advantage of two young women alone and unprotected.
‘I am glad to hear it,’ was all he said, as he didn’t want to distress her further. ‘Please pass along my respects to your aunt.’
Diana watched as he crossed the breakfast room in long and forceful strides, noting the way his dark-brown superfine moulded to the width of his shoulders and narrow waist, his buff-coloured pantaloons doing the same for his long and muscled thighs. Physical attributes, along with those sensually pleasurable kisses, which set her pulse racing just to think of them, indicating that the best—and certainly the safest—course was not to think about them at all!
‘I had almost forgotten …’ Gabriel suddenly said as he came to a halt in the doorway to turn and look back at her standing so elegantly in the centre of the room. ‘I realise that Hampshire is a large county, but do you by any chance know of a family named Morton?’ He had already sent several old comrades into Hampshire in search of Dominic Vaughn and the woman he had announced it was his intention to marry, but it would be negligent on his part not to enquire if Diana knew of the woman’s family. Something he had almost forgotten to do since kissing her earlier.
‘Morton?’ She looked momentarily startled. ‘The butler at Shoreley Park is named Morton, but, apart from that, I’m not aware of any family of that name.’
Gabriel’s expression became guarded. ‘Indeed? And does he possess a family? In particular, a daughter of marriageable age?’
‘Not that I am aware of … No, I am sure he does not,’ she said firmly. ‘Morton has been with us for years. I am sure I would have heard of a daughter if he had one.’
‘Hmm,’ Gabriel murmured softly. ‘Still, it is curious that your butler also possesses that name …’
‘Why is it curious, my lord?’ Diana looked puzzled.
‘I am not sure.’ He scowled darkly, the pieces of that particular puzzle becoming more obscure the deeper he delved into it. ‘It is a start at least,’ he muttered. ‘It may be that this butler has a niece of that name.’
‘I do not recall him ever mentioning one …’ A frown creased Diana’s creamy brow. ‘What is this woman to you, my lord?’
Gabriel became suddenly still. ‘Why should you assume she is anything to me?’
A delicate blush coloured her cheeks. ‘I thought, as you asked about her—’
‘Did you think that because I said the woman is young I must, either now or some time in the past, have had some personal interest in her?’ he queried with a gleam in his eyes she wasn’t at all sure of.
Diana had no idea what to think. In fact, this whole conversation was somewhat confusing to her. Indeed, she still felt slightly befuddled by her response to his kiss earlier and its abrupt and slightly hurtful ending.
She suddenly became aware how little she really knew of the man she had agreed to marry. She had believed him yesterday when he’d told her that he was not responsible for seducing that young girl and leaving her pregnant. However, she had to acknowledge that his past might appear in a somewhat different light to her if she were to learn that the allegedly wronged woman from eight years ago, and the one he now sought, were one and the same …
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