Historical Trio 2012-01 (37 page)

It was far from an ideal end to the ecstasy of their earlier intimacy, but no doubt Gabriel would thank her once he knew what she had done.

‘My maid has been sitting with your mother for several hours now, with instructions to come for me should she receive any visitors,’ she started to explain hurriedly.

‘Your maid has been sitting with my mother?’ he repeated slowly.

Diana nodded. ‘Do you recall that I left the dining table earlier in search of a handkerchief?’

‘Yes.’ Of course he remembered that, and a damned long time she had taken about it too. Over ten minutes of absolute silence between himself and Jennifer, as they glared their glittering dislike at each other, knowing that if he said one word to the witch then an avalanche of them would follow, all of them unpleasant. She had seemed to know that too and for once in her life had remained silent.

‘I had no real need of a handkerchief.’ Diana smiled triumphantly. ‘It was merely a ruse to allow me the time in which to arrange for my maid to go to your mother’s rooms.’

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you had agreed with Jennifer that there was no need for your maid to sit with my mother?’

‘I only gave the appearance of agreeing,’ Diana corrected, moving to stand in front of the mirror on the dressing table in order to study her reflection as she pinned her hair neatly into place.

‘Did you?’ he asked, thoroughly confused.

She turned to eye him impatiently. ‘Really, Gabriel, I am sure I am making myself perfectly clear. I lied when I appeared to take Mrs Prescott’s word for it that your mother didn’t need my maid’s company.’

Gabriel became very still. ‘I was led to believe you were incapable of lying.’

‘The very reason it is easier to be believed when one is left with no other choice but to do so!’

Gabriel stared across at her wordlessly. He had just been mentally praising Diana for her honesty, for her utter lack of artifice, and all the time she was as skilful at deception as the next woman.

No doubt she had a good reason for it, he told himself. She had good reason for most things she did. Even so, it was unsettling to realise she was as capable of lying as anyone else. ‘Would you care to tell me why it was you felt the need to lie on this occasion?’

‘Surely that is obvious?’ she said incredulously.

‘Not completely, no,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Explain, if you please.’ He stood up and began to gather up his clothes.

Diana blinked. She was not sure how she was supposed to even think, let alone explain, when Gabriel stood before her in all his naked glory! Their lovemaking had been a revelation to her. A wonder. A joy beyond imagining. And just looking at the magnificence of his unclothed body was enough to bring the warmth back into her cheeks. And other places too. Private, intimate places of her body that he now knew more intimately than she did herself.

Gabriel had been beautiful in his arousal, and he was no less so now, the candlelight giving his flesh a golden hue as it caressed the hard planes of his body and revealed that thatch of black hair surrounding his now-softened shaft. Even in repose it was far more impressive than those sketches of the Greek gods in that book—

‘Diana!’

She gave a slightly dazed shake of her head, closing her eyes briefly before lifting her gaze to concentrate Gabriel’s scowling face rather than the magnificence of his body; she might perhaps be able to concentrate on the matter in hand if she did not look at all that male beauty! ‘Could you dress whilst I explain?’

‘Willingly, if it is going to speed up the proceedings,’ he said. He turned his back on her to sort through the clothes he had amassed on the bed.

Even his sculptured back was beautiful, Diana acknowledged achingly, longing to reach out and touch those wide and muscled shoulders, which tapered down to a narrow waist, to fondle his nicely curved buttocks—

‘You do not appear to be explaining anything as yet, Diana,’ Gabriel reminded her impatiently, his back still towards her as he pulled his shirt on over his head and instantly covered at least part of his nakedness.

But still not enough for her to focus on coherent thought, the intimacy of the situation rendering her temporarily speechless.

‘I swear I will come over there and shake you if you do not begin this explanation in the next ten seconds!’

Diana gave a guilty start as she heard the savagery in Gabriel’s tone. It was understandable—she needed to pull herself together. ‘When I left the dining room earlier in search of a handkerchief, I first visited your mother’s rooms—I wished to satisfy my curiosity before taking any further action,’ she explained as he stared at her incredulously.

‘And did you? Satisfy your curiosity!’ he rasped as Diana looked at him blankly.

‘Your mother was still sleeping,’ she said.

‘Perhaps that is as well when she would have had absolutely no idea who you were if she had been awake.’ Gabriel was dressed in his pantaloons and boots now, as well as his shirt, although he had left the latter unfastened, and the darkness of his hair was dishevelled as he looked across at her with accusing eyes. ‘I had intended to introduce the two of you tomorrow.’

‘Obviously, as she was asleep when I entered her bedchamber, you are still free to do so—’

‘How kind!’

She crossed the room to stand before him. ‘Gabriel, I believe you are missing the point…’

‘Perhaps that is because you have not told me the point, as yet.’ His increasing frustration with this situation was obvious in the dangerous glitter of his eyes.

Diana sighed. ‘Despite her alleged malaise, I do not believe that a lady who must not yet be fifty should be asleep as much as Mrs Prescott claims your mother has been in recent months.’

‘And?’

‘And so when I entered her rooms earlier I took it upon myself to check the contents of the medicine bottle, which stood upon her dressing table. Amongst other, less innocuous substances, I discovered—as I suspected that I might—that it contained laudanum. It is a substance I am familiar with because my father took it in the last years of his life in order to help him sleep,’ she said.

‘Are you saying that all this time my mother has been taking a sleeping draught?’ Gabriel asked slowly. That made absolutely no sense to him when his mother’s problem seemed to be an over-abundance of sleep, not a lack of it. Unless, of course, her life was now so hellish that she preferred to sleep most of the time rather than live in that hell?

‘I am afraid there is no more time for me to explain this situation just now.’ Diana moved hurriedly across the room to pick up the lighted candle. ‘I had meant to go immediately to your mother’s rooms as soon as dinner was over.’ Her cheeks became flushed as she obviously recalled exactly why she had not done so. ‘May—my maid—came to tell me that Mrs Prescott had attempted to visit your mother’s rooms only a few minutes ago.’

‘And?’ he pressed.

‘When she couldn’t gain entry through the locked door, she knocked upon it. May ignored that, of course, as I had instructed her to do should the need arise. Mrs Prescott has now gone back down the stairs to collect a second key from the housekeeper.’ She grimaced. ‘May took advantage of her absence to leave your mother’s rooms to quickly come and inform me of events.’

‘Considering you are a visitor, newly come into this house, you appear to have taken rather a lot upon yourself,’ Gabriel commented. To him, at least, things were still incomprehensible; fortunately, Diana gave every appearance of knowing exactly what she was doing and why.

‘I would have preferred to discuss it with you first, of course—’

‘Of course,’ Gabriel muttered somewhat sarcastically.

‘But as we were seated at dinner all together there was obviously no opportunity for me to do so,’ she continued. ‘As I have already explained, there really is no time to lose,’ she added firmly as Gabriel would have pressed her for more details. ‘May has been with me for years and is very loyal, but it would be unfair to expect her to deal with Mrs Prescott’s unpleasantness twice in one evening.’ She turned upon her heel with the obvious intention of leaving.

Gabriel reached out and took hold of her arm. ‘Not so fast! First, at least tell me the purpose of keeping Mrs Prescott from entering my mother’s rooms?’

‘Surely that is obvious?’

His mouth tightened. ‘Humour me.’

She glared at him. ‘For the purpose of allowing your mother to awaken, of course, and so enabling her to speak to the son she has not seen in eight years.’

Gabriel was so surprised by this explanation that he relaxed his grip on her arm. A fact she did not hesitate to take advantage of as she rushed from the bedchamber.

Chapter Thirteen

B
y the time Gabriel had collected his addled wits enough to hurry from the now-darkened bedchamber in pursuit, he was just in time to see Diana’s skirts disappearing round the end of the hallway in the direction of his mother’s rooms, the candle disappearing with her and once again plunging him into darkness.

A darkness that was not only physical, but also emotional.

The depth of their lovemaking had been so consuming that even now he found it difficult to comprehend exactly what she was about from the little she had told him—not an altogether pleasant experience for a man who had always prided himself on his mental and emotional acuity!

Outside his mother’s suite of rooms, Diana had placed the lit candle on the hallstand and was standing in front of the door, her arms extended and her expression defiant as Jennifer used every means she could to dislodge her from that protective stance.

One of which was to now reach out and grasp a handful of Diana’s hair. ‘How dare you?’ his uncle’s wife ranted shrilly as she tugged viciously on those golden curls. ‘You have absolutely no authority to stop me from entering my sister-in-law’s rooms—’

‘Diana may not—but I certainly do,’ he announced.

Diana turned gratefully to look at Gabriel as he approached them quickly, once again looking every inch as vengeful as his angelic namesake with his unfastened shirt billowing about him. Although, thankfully, this time the cold fury glittering in his eyes was not directed at her, but at the young woman married to his uncle.

‘Release Diana immediately.’ He towered over both women, but it was Jennifer who remained the focus of his ruthless gaze. ‘Do not put me to the trouble of having to repeat the instruction, madam,’ he warned in an intimidating voice that sent a shiver of apprehension down Diana’s spine.

An apprehension that Jennifer also felt, if the suddenness with which she released her grip upon Diana’s hair was any indication, although the defiance in her expression remained as she looked up at him, hands now resting challengingly upon her hips. ‘Perhaps you should see to restricting the behaviour of your fiancée rather than remonstrating with me.’

Gabriel raised dark brows. ‘Diana is more than capable of deciding for herself what she will and will not do.’

The dryness underlying his tone gave Diana the courage to state exactly what she intended doing at this moment. ‘I have just informed Mrs Prescott that the two of us will sit with your mother tonight, thus leaving her free to enjoy an untroubled sleep.’

He looked at her searchingly for several long seconds, a shutter coming down over his expression before he turned back to Jennifer. ‘I can see no reason why you would have any objection to that?’

Jennifer’s beautiful face became flushed with her displeasure. ‘
I
have seen to Felicity’s care this past four months—’

‘And a right mess—’

‘And now you are deserving of an unbroken night’s sleep,’ Diana smoothly interrupted his angry outburst; a justified outburst, she felt sure, but one guaranteed to further inflame this already heated situation. ‘I assure you,’ she continued firmly, ‘Gabriel and I are more than happy to sit with Mrs Faulkner tonight.’

‘And if I object?’ Those brown eyes flashed Jennifer’s displeasure with the proposal.

‘It is not a matter open for discussion, madam.’ Gabriel looked down the long length of his nose at her. ‘Nor do I expect to ever witness you treating Diana in that disgraceful manner ever again.’

‘But—’

‘If you have nothing of interest to say, then I would appreciate it if you would remove yourself from this vicinity altogether.’ His expression was full of his undisguised disgust.

Diana knew that she would cringe in mortification if Gabriel should ever look at her in that way and Jennifer Prescott was not proof against it either; she looked less than her usual defiant self. ‘Charles shall hear of your highhandedness the moment he returns.’

Gabriel’s top lip curled back disdainfully. ‘I shall look forward to it,’ was all he said.

Brown eyes flashed furiously. ‘You have no right—’

‘If nothing else, I have the right of being my mother’s son,’ he said harshly. ‘You, on the other hand, are no more than a guest in my mother’s house, with no authority to say who shall or shall not visit with her.’ He looked down at her scornfully. ‘Now, if you would kindly remove yourself, Diana and I wish to go inside and sit with my mother.’

Jennifer bristled with rage. ‘If I chose, I could make life so uncomfortable for you that you would wish you had never been born.’

‘Madam, if such an occurrence meant I never had to set eyes upon you again, then I would be happy for you to try!’

‘You liked me well enough once,’ she sneered.

‘You are mistaken, madam.’ Gabriel’s tone was one of boredom now. ‘That I succeeded in tolerating your presence when we were both children would be a more apt description.’

Jennifer’s cheeks now become deathly pale. ‘How I have always hated you,’ she spat. ‘With your “Lord of the Manor” attitude and your oh-so-superior manner!’

He eyed her mockingly. ‘At last we are in agreement on something, madam—our heartfelt dislike of each other.’

If Diana had needed any further confirmation—which she did not—that Jennifer Prescott had lied about the happenings of the past, then the other woman had just given it to her. So she had always hated Gabriel, had she? That was very interesting…

‘It is late and tempers are becoming fractious.’ Diana spoke calmly as she turned to the other woman. ‘Please do not trouble yourself any further concerning Mrs Faulkner. I assure you, having nursed my father for the last few years of his life, I am more than up to the task of caring for Gabriel’s mother.’ Having—hopefully—left Jennifer with absolutely no further argument to make, Diana put an end to their conversation by knocking softly on the door of the bedchamber and requesting that May unlock the door and admit her.

Gabriel continued in a silent battle of wills with Jennifer for several seconds after Diana had entered his mother’s bedchamber, before finally his uncle’s wife gave a frustrated snort and flounced off down the hallway, leaving him to slowly follow his fiancée into the muted illumination of his mother’s rooms.

Diana stood beside the bed in whispered conversation with her maid, who then dropped them a light curtsy before she vacated the bedchamber, and Gabriel crossed the room to stand beside his mother’s bed.

He had spoken the truth earlier when he admitted to finding his mother much changed from when he had last seen her. Well…perhaps when Gabriel had last seen her was not a good comparison to make; his mother had been distraught the day he’d left Faulkner Manor, her face deathly pale, her eyes red from hours of crying in the face of his father’s implacability regarding Jennifer Lindsay’s accusations.

But his mother had always been a beauty, a glowing ever-young beauty it had always seemed to him. Now she looked every one of her two-and-fifty years, the darkness of her hair showing strands of grey, her face so white and thin and lifeless it was much like one of the masks worn during the time of carnival in Venice.

‘I am sure the changes you see in your mother are only superficial, Gabriel.’

He glanced across the bed to where Diana looked back at him so compassionately. A compassion he found it hard to accept, even from the woman he had so recently been intimate with.

He looked away. ‘Perhaps, having now dispatched my uncle’s wife, you might care to give me an explanation as to why we have done so?’

‘Of course.’ She smiled briefly. ‘But perhaps we should go through to your mother’s private parlour so that we do not disturb her?’ She indicated the adjoining room, the door standing open to reveal that it was furnished comfortably. ‘We can leave the door open so that we will still hear her if she should stir.’

Gabriel looked at her through narrowed lids. ‘From what you already said to me in your bedchamber, I thought disturbing my mother enough so that she awakens is our main purpose for being here?’

Diana felt her cheeks warm at this reference to when they had been in her bedchamber such a short time ago, when Gabriel had touched her with an intimacy and a skill that still took her breath away. When she had returned those caresses in a way that shocked her to even think of it…

Her gaze avoided meeting his. ‘I have every hope that your mother will wake very soon,’ she said abruptly. ‘I simply think it would be better if this conversation were not the first thing she hears when she does so.’

He raised dark brows. ‘Why not?’

Diana looked pained. ‘Gabriel, when I came to your mother’s rooms earlier this evening—’

‘You mean when you
said
you were fetching a handkerchief?’

‘Yes.’ Diana squirmed at this pointed reminder of her duplicity—her only excuse was that she had done what she thought was for the best. ‘The laudanum in your mother’s medicine really is of a very high dosage, much more than it needs to be if it is only taken as an aid to help her sleep. Besides,’ she added, ‘Mrs Prescott has several times confirmed that she alone has been responsible for your mother’s nursing care this past four months. And that care will have no doubt have included administering her medicine.’ Diana chose her words carefully, but purposefully.

Gabriel stared at her levelly for several seconds before nodding. ‘You are right, Diana—this conversation would be much better taking place in the privacy of my mother’s parlour.’ He left the room without waiting to see if she followed him.

Which she did, of course; if Diana’s suspicions proved to be correct, then this was not going to be a particularly pleasant conversation, even if it was a necessary one.

Gabriel delayed continuing this conversation with her for some minutes by putting a taper to the fire laid in the hearth, staring down at the flames that quickly caught the kindling alight before then bending down to add some of the coal from the bucket beside the fireplace. And all the time his thoughts were racing. Mulling over the things Diana had already said. The suspicions arising from those observations.

It took him several minutes to regain control of his emotions enough to draw in a deep breath before turning to face her, his hands tightly gripped together behind his back. ‘Very well,’ he said stiltedly. ‘You may continue your explanation now.’

She grimaced. ‘You understand it is only a theory as yet?’

‘At this point in time a theory is more than sufficient.’ His jaw was so tightly clenched he felt as if the bones might crack. Dinner had been hellish, the time in Diana’s bedchamber had been paradise; only God knew what the next few minutes were going to be like.

She began to pace the parlour. ‘I have found Mrs Prescott’s behaviour most unusual, since our arrival earlier today. Do you recall that she was not waiting for us in the hallway when we finally entered the house, but was in fact hurrying down the staircase, her face flushed from exertion? As if she were returning from some urgent errand?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘I had thought, once you told me of your…past connection—’

‘There’s
no
past connection!’

‘No. Well. Just so.’ Diana felt slightly unnerved by the force of Gabriel’s protest. ‘I believed at first that might be a possible explanation for Mrs Prescott’s flustered behaviour, but I have had a chance to rethink her actions since and now believe that she hurried back into the house in order to go up to your mother’s room and administer another dose of her medication.’

‘Perhaps my mother’s medication was due?’

‘Then Mrs Prescott’s dedication to her patient, at a time when she was in such an obvious state of personal turmoil, would indeed be admirable.’ Diana found it impossible to keep the derision out of her tone; she was usually a forbearing woman, usually only too happy to see the good in others, but she simply could not find a single thing about Mrs Prescott to like.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Then we are to take it there was another reason for the administration of my mother’s medication at that particular time?’

‘I believe so, yes.’

‘I am sure you are about to tell me what that reason was?’ he drawled as she hesitated.

Then, ‘None of Mrs Prescott’s behaviour would have struck me as odd if it were not for the strangeness of her conversation at dinner. After first assuring us that your mother was not ill enough to require the care of a doctor or a nurse,’ she explained at his questioning glance, ‘she then went on to claim that your mother was too frail to sustain the strain of a coach journey back to London with us. Those two statements were in complete contradiction of each other. Rather than simply allowing my imagination to run riot at the possible reasons for that, I excused myself with the intention of checking your mother’s health for myself.’ She pursed her lips. ‘You will recall, no doubt, that Mrs Prescott showed the first signs of agitation at dinner after you had told you that you had found the time to visit your mother’s rooms earlier?’

‘I do recall that, yes,’ he admitted.

‘I now believe that your mother did not wake during that visit for the simple reason that she was too deeply drugged by the laudanum in her medicine.’

‘For what purpose?’ he asked curiously.