The Unexpected Marriage of Gabriel Stone (Lords of Disgrace) (10 page)

Perhaps Gabriel was a forger as well as a lock-picking, play-acting, potential blackmailer... Her thoughts came to a crashing stop as she walked into his exceedingly solid back.
‘Ough!’

He had stopped behind a large oak by the opening into the lane that led to the turnpike road. ‘All clear.’ He turned towards the highway.

‘The village is that way.’ Caroline pointed to the footpath that led away across the meadows.

‘I said in the note to meet us at the junction where the gibbet is. With any luck no one will see the carriage and they certainly would if it were to drive into the village to collect us. If we keep to the wheel ruts we will avoid leaving tracks in the dewy grass.’

Caroline hitched up her skirts, jumped the shallow ditch and followed. ‘They gibbeted Black Sam Baggins the highwayman there last year and they haven’t taken the remains down yet. It’s disgusting.’

‘All the more reason for no one to suspect you’d be hanging around there—if you’ll pardon the expression—waiting for a passing vehicle.’

* * *

When they reached the sinister black gallows with the dangling iron cage Gabriel contemplated the revolting object while Caroline studiously counted how many varieties of wild flower she could see in the opposite hedge.

‘There’s not a lot left of him,’ Gabriel remarked.

‘Some of the local people stole his clothes very early on, before he began to...you know. And now the superstitious ones have been taking bits as they drop off—finger and toe bones and so forth. They grind them up and put them in medicines. Apparently fragments of highwaymen aren’t as efficacious as murderers, but we haven’t had any of those for many years, thank goodness.’

‘What on earth are deceased highwayman’s toes supposed to cure?’ Gabriel sounded more intrigued than disgusted. ‘There’s a fallen tree over there you can sit on while we wait. It looks dry, it is shielded from the road and you won’t have to contemplate the remains of Black Sam.’

Caroline sat down. ‘I think the bones are a cure for toothache and sore throats.’

‘I’d rather have the sore throat. You stay here.’ Gabriel melted away into the undergrowth.

By straining her eyes she could just make him out, still and watchful, his attention on the road. For a man who said he spent little time communing with nature, he certainly knew how to take advantage of it when he needed to. His russet greatcoat with its modest double cape and the conker-brown leather of his boots merged into the mottled foliage of the hedgerow and his dark head was hidden in the shade as the sun at last began to penetrate the trees.

As she stared she was able to make out one ungloved hand resting on the low bough of a young oak, then the sunlight sparked a glint of light off something metallic and she realised he was holding a pistol. If her father came, or Lucas, would he fire? Would she want him to? Of course not. But he wouldn’t, she told herself. He would threaten, that was all. Gabriel wasn’t reckless, nor really a criminal. He simply had a rather broader view of acceptable behaviour for an earl than she was used to.

There was the thud of hooves, felt through the soles of her boots before she heard it, then the jingle of a harness and an elegant carriage, glossy black and driven by a team of fine bays, appeared around the corner and drew up opposite her. The horses sidled and snorted, sensing perhaps the horrid thing hanging from the gibbet, and the coachman soothed them with a murmured word.

They stilled and for a moment nothing moved. Then Gabriel stepped out into the road, the hand that had held the pistol empty at his side. ‘Good morning to you, Thomas.’

The coachman touched the brim of his hat. ‘Good morning, my lord.’

The door on the far side from Caroline swung open and a man got out. ‘This is a damnably early hour for anything but a duel, Gabe,’ he remarked, his voice a pleasant drawl. ‘Have you any idea what time I had to get out of my bed?’

‘Did you bother to go to it?’ Gabriel enquired. Caroline caught a glimpse of him across the backs of the horses as he strode forward and took the other man by the shoulders in a brief, fierce embrace.

‘Oh, yes,’ his friend said with a chuckle as he returned the gesture with a buffet to Gabriel’s arm. ‘My lady wife expects me to act in a husbandly manner these days.’ Despite the laughter in his voice it was obvious to Caroline that this was one husband who was not bored with his marital bed.

‘And how is Lady Weybourn?’ Gabriel led his friend around the carriage.

‘Blooming, now the queasiness has left her. But why the devil am I summoned to this particularly gruesome spot at the crack of dawn?’

‘To rescue a lady in distress. Caroline, come and meet Alex Tempest.’

She emerged from her hiding place and walked towards them, smiling slightly at the contrast between Gabriel’s wild looks and the careless way he wore his plain and practical clothing and the elegant gentleman with the quizzical brows and the fashionable crop.

‘Oh, well done, Gabe,’ Viscount Weybourn said as she emerged. ‘And about time, too.’

Chapter Ten

‘N
o,’ Gabriel said. ‘No, no, and absolutely no. You have the wrong end of the stick, Alex.’ Caroline was staring at him as though he was talking complete nonsense. Alex was within a whisker of a smirk. And of receiving a right hook to the chin.

‘Lady Caroline, may I present Alex Tempest, Viscount Weybourn. Alex, Lady Caroline Holm, the daughter of Lord Knighton. Lady Caroline finds it necessary to leave her home clandestinely. Alone.’

‘Alone?’ Alex’s infuriatingly expressive eyebrows rose. ‘Then this is not an elo—’

‘Absolutely not.’ Caroline, thankfully, was still looking mystified. Gabriel contemplated kicking Alex on the ankle, then settled for saying, ‘I am merely helping Lady Caroline remove herself from her father’s house.’

‘Where to?’

‘London to start with. What happens after that is still to be decided.’

‘Urgent, I gather?’ Alex offered Caroline his arm and began to walk back to the carriage. ‘I believe we have danced together at Almack’s before now, Lady Caroline.’

‘Just Caroline, please. And, yes, I recall that with pleasure, Lord Weybourn.’

‘Before we begin a delightful reminiscence of every time the pair of you have met socially, could we get on our way, do you think?’ Gabriel retrieved the bags and handed them up to the coachman. ‘There is a certain urgency.’

‘Why? An infuriated father with a shotgun on your trail?’ Alex helped Caroline into a forward-facing seat and sat down beside her, leaving Gabriel to sit with his back to the horses. He lounged back into a corner and propped his boots up on the other end of the bench, enjoying Alex’s wince at the insult to the plush upholstery.

‘That and the prospect of a trip to the altar with Woodruffe.’

‘Lord Woodruffe? Edgar Parfit?’ Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘No, really, Caroline, you don’t want to go marrying him. A sad dog, that one.’

‘No, of course I don’t, which is why I am leaving home and Lord Edenbridge is helping me.’

‘Your father is not open to reason on the subject?’

‘No.’

There was a tremor in her voice and Gabriel glared at Alex, even as he saw the other man’s face harden as he heard it, too. He knew about Woodruffe’s proclivities, too, it appeared.

‘Nothing for it but to take a bolt to town, I see,’ Alex said easily. ‘You’ve nothing to worry about now. Gabe’s a scape-gallows, but I am thoroughly reliable and exceedingly respectable.’

‘If you are respectable it is only because of Tess’s influence.’

‘The love of a good woman,’ Alex said smugly.

Was that why Alex was so eager to assume this was an elopement—he was in love and therefore Gabriel’s actions must stem from the same source? He liked Caroline. Very much, he realised as he watched her making the effort to be calm and pleasant with Alex. He admired her. He desired her physically, which was hardly a surprise to him. And he would fight anyone who tried to hurt her. But then any gentleman with a shred of honour was duty-bound to protect a lady. The uncomfortable feeling of possessiveness was simply because this was the lady whose safety had fallen to him to defend.

‘Now, are you hungry, Caroline?’ Alex said. ‘We have a breakfast hamper under Gabriel’s seat. Dig it out, there’s a good fellow.’

‘Food that someone else has cooked?’ Gabriel swung his feet down and bent to explore the wicker basket. He was hungry. That was probably why he was brooding on his emotional state, of all things. ‘Heaven.’

‘Do I deduce that you have been fending for yourself?’ Alex caught the packet of bacon-filled rolls that Gabriel tossed at him. ‘That I should like to see.’

‘Lord Edenbridge has been acting as a hermit, part of my father’s landscaped park.’ Caroline took the roll Alex passed to her and a napkin that Gabriel unearthed from the hamper. ‘The kitchen sent him down supplies, but he has been cooking for himself in the hermitage.’

‘One snigger from you, Tempest, and you will regret it,’ Gabriel warned.

‘Dressed how?’ Alex demanded, filling beakers from a flask of cold tea. ‘Not in robes, surely?’

‘Oh, yes, with an enormous beard and a beautiful Welsh accent.’ Caroline was recovering her spirits along with the food, Gabriel was glad to see. ‘He was very convincing.’

‘Of course I saw the beard.’ Alex chuckled. ‘He was able to fool even Tess with such a disguise. But why—?’ Under Gabriel’s fulminating stare Alex snapped his mouth shut, but there was more speculation than amusement in the sharp hazel gaze that met his.

‘Later,’ Gabriel said. ‘I am only going to explain this once and I have no doubt there will be an audience awaiting us. Where are we going?’

‘Half Moon Street. My house. I sent a note to Cris and told him I would fetch you, but you are right, it is certain we’ll find him there with Tamsyn when we arrive.’

‘The Marquess of Avenmore? I have never met him, but I know his reputation. He is not going to approve of me, is he?’ Caroline sounded anxious again.

‘Cris is a pussy cat since his smuggler’s widow got her hands on him,’ Gabriel said, contemplating the choice between a raised pork pie or a slice of cheese flan and deciding on both.

‘He’ll fillet you if he hears you describing Tamsyn in those terms.’ Alex poured Caroline some more tea and settled to explaining that the new marchioness was a perfectly respectable lady who had committed the minor indiscretion of a first marriage to the leader of a gang of smugglers.

She was relaxing now, even laughing at Alex’s irreverent remarks. He had an indecent amount of charm when he chose to exert it. Before his marriage he had been wary of directing it at unmarried ladies and since his marriage he was probably in danger of grievous bodily harm from his adoring wife if he flirted, but Gabriel could tell he could not resist trying to put Caroline at her ease.

He should be glad of it. The last thing they wanted on their hands was a frightened woman, too nervous to make a decision about her own future. On the other hand, his idiocy last night had probably given her plenty to think about. Thank heavens he’d the self-control to stop. But what had he been thinking about?
With my damn boots on, too.
He could only account for it as the release of tension after the dangers of the night.

‘What are you glowering about?’ Alex enquired.

‘Is anything wrong, Gabriel?’

The last thing he needed was anxious sympathy and a pair of worried blue eyes gazing at him, to feel this strange pang under his breastbone because she was looking weary and that lovely blonde hair was bedraggled, with just one lock coming loose to her collar. He wanted to kiss the shadows under those periwinkle eyes...

‘Tired, that’s all. If Alex would only be quiet for five minutes together, I’d go to sleep.’ He stretched his legs out along the seat again, tipped his hat over his eyes and prepared to feign slumber. It came immediately, taking him by surprise, whirling him down into soft darkness and strange dreams, soothed by a soft, unfamiliar chuckle.
I’ve never heard her laugh, not like that...
Gabriel slept.

* * *

‘We have arrived. Do you have a veil?’

Alex’s words, the first in over an hour, jerked Caroline out of the trance state she had entered as the effects of food, warmth and safety took effect. She had been watching Gabriel as he slept, his long body loose and beautiful in its unconsidered sprawl. He should have seemed vulnerable, but she had seen the sudden tensing of his hands as they had slowed for a turnpike, then the instant relaxation as the familiar bustle of the gate registered with his sleeping brain. In a crisis he would have been awake and dangerous in seconds.

‘A veil? No, I am sorry.’ Of course, the viscount would not want his neighbours recognising the crumpled and unchaperoned female stumbling out of his carriage. This was a fashionable street and at least a few residents would know her by sight.

‘No need to worry, Tess made me bring one.’ Alex produced a handful of black gauze from his pocket and she swathed it over head and face as Gabriel sat up, got his feet on the floor and his hat straight.

‘What time is it?’

‘Gone twelve. Later than I’d planned, but Caroline would not let me spring the horses, said it would wake you up.’

Alex got out as the front door opened and Caroline made a business of ordering her skirts, grateful that the veil obscured her blush at the look Gabriel sent her. No doubt he was as surprised over her concern as Alex had been.

‘Have you got them safe?’ A lady was in the hall, flushed from Alex’s enthusiastic kiss. Caroline’s immediate impression was of softness—soft brown hair, soft curves on a slender frame, soft voice. ‘Oh, yes, there you are, Gabriel, and this must be— Oh!’ Caroline pushed back the folds of her veil. ‘But you are Lady Caroline Holm, I recognise you, although we have never met.’ She turned to the open door behind her. ‘Cris, Tamsyn, they are here safe.’

The tall, intimidating figure of the Marquess of Avenmore appeared in the doorway and, in front of him, a young woman who said, ‘But I’ve seen you before. In the corridor at Lady Ancaster’s soirée, with Gabriel.’

‘At Lady Ancaster’s...’ That must have been when Gabriel had just kissed her, had told her that he had never meant to act on the IOU for her virtue, had dismissed her, leaving her feeling naive and gauche and unwanted. This young woman had come up behind Gabriel. Had she overheard what Caroline had said?
A promise is a promise, but if you do not want me—

It could have meant anything, she told herself desperately.
If you do not want me to dance with you next week. If you do not want me to give you one of the kittens...

‘Kittens,’ she said out loud, wondering if she was about to faint.

‘For goodness sake, the poor dear is on the point of collapse.’ It was the brunette again. ‘Make room, all of you, and let her come into the drawing room.’

Hands propelled her through the door before she had the opportunity to make her curtsy to the marquess, which suddenly seemed important. She found herself seated on a
chaise
in front of a small fire that was comforting, despite the warmth of the day.

‘Tea is coming. Now put up your feet and we will send these men out.’ The brunette made vague flapping gestures as though shooing chickens and the three large males obediently took themselves off, leaving the room soothingly quiet.

‘Now do not feel you have to explain anything just yet,’ the lady from the soirée said. ‘If you have been with Gabriel for several days you probably just want to lie down with a cold compress on your head and sip camomile tea. That man manages to be utterly exhausting, even when he is simply standing still.’

‘It is because he looks as though he is thinking wicked thoughts all the time,’ the soft-voiced one said. ‘Really
very
wicked thoughts, even when he has a perfectly straight face. And I get intrigued and wonder about them and how wicked they are...and then I catch his eye and I am convinced he knows I am imagining such things so I blush and he smiles and then—’ She laughed. ‘And here I am, very happily married, passionately in love with my husband, pregnant, and the very last thing I want is to be doing anything even mildly naughty with Gabriel Stone. I’m Tess, by the way. Teresa Tempest, which is a ridiculous name. And this is Tamsyn de Feaux.’

‘Lady Weybourn, Lady Avenmore.’ Caroline dragged her tumbling thoughts back from contemplating Gabriel and wickedness and tried to remember her manners. ‘I am Caroline Holm, Lord Knighton’s daughter.’

‘And you are very welcome to my house,’ Tess said warmly. ‘Gabriel’s note simply said you needed rescuing. May we ask what from?’

‘Edgar Parfit, Lord Woodruffe. And, I suppose, from my father.’

‘He wants you to marry that slug? Well then, certainly you must be rescued!’ Tess turned to Tamsyn. ‘Have you met him? He’s a nasty, unhealthy, pale colour with fat hands and thick lips and a beastly habit of ogling any female who is not well protected. Even when you are, he tries to stand too close, or brush against you by
accident.
I stood on his toes with my new French heels the other evening—quite by accident, of course. He had tried to pinch my
derrière
. And he must need money because he is wildly extravagant.’

‘Fortunately I haven’t been out in London society long enough to have encountered him.’ Tamsyn regarded Caroline, head on one side. Caroline made an effort to sit up straighter and not look as feeble as she felt, just at this moment. This woman, the smuggler’s widow, looked as though she would take a musket to Lord Woodruffe if provoked, not run away. ‘I suppose that just refusing to marry him didn’t work?’

‘No.’ Caroline took a deep breath. ‘You will probably think I am exaggerating the problem. I had better tell you everything.’
Not about my IOU, bartering my virginity for the deeds, but everything else. They need to understand.

* * *

There was silence when she finished, then Tamsyn, her faint Devon accent heightened by emotion. said, ‘Your father is somewhat obsessional, is he not? And in the grip of a strong compulsion to gamble. I can understand how dangerous that can be. My cousin Franklin, Lord Chelford, got himself in over his head with gambling debts, then moneylenders, and ended with vandalism, murder and an attempt to frame me for the crime.’

‘And he almost managed to murder you,’ Tess said with a shudder. ‘It is all a secret, of course. People think he went slightly insane and died after an unfortunate encounter with a Bow Street Runner.

‘Anyway, we understand that people do act in these extreme ways and that you aren’t exaggerating in the slightest. Besides anything else, if your father is going to use force, then nothing else matters. And Gabriel is just the person to help, he was wonderful with Tamsyn’s problem.’

‘Once he stopped lecturing Cris on how unsuitable I was for a marquess,’ Tamsyn said with a grimace. ‘He was quite right, of course, but it did not endear him to me at the time!’

‘There are four of them, close friends.’ Caroline tried to pick her way through the relationships. ‘Gabriel, your husbands and someone else? Gabriel did tell me, but I’m afraid I have forgotten.’