Simply Forbidden (24 page)

“I didn’t ask my mother to arrange for our marriage to end.”

He managed a shrug, but she stepped even closer and put her hand flat on his chest. Tears glinted in her eyes and he swallowed hard.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What is there to say?”

She held his gaze. “That you care about me? That you want to stay married?”

Frustration laced with anger rose in his throat and for the first time in his life, he had no idea how to stop it. “What is the point? You obviously don’t listen to a damn word I say.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I wanted to marry you. You are the one who refuses to believe that I meant it. You are the one who keeps assuming I’ll walk away.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean …”

“Christ, Lisette, you fling words at me like honeyed traps, like tests that you want me to fail. How the devil am I supposed to react when you never tell me exactly how you feel or what you want? How many times will you push me away just to see if I’ll come back? And what happens when I grow weary of always having to prove myself to you and do walk away? Will you feel vindicated then? That you were right and that ultimately you are unlovable?”

“I don’t think that.” She was pale now, lower lip caught between her teeth as if to stop it from trembling. “I don’t try to trap you.”

Wearily, he shook his head. “Yes, you do. You’re doing it now. Half of me wants to toss you over my shoulder and take you to bed and make love to you until that’s all you can think of, all you can crave. At least there I know you want me. The other half of me wants to walk away now before you pick me apart and spit out the pieces.”

Anger finally sparked in her eyes and she lifted her chin. “And you’re good at that, aren’t you?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Walking away. You walked away from the problems in Spain and never tried to proclaim your innocence and you walked away from your responsibilities as an earl because you refused to confront your uncle face-to-face.”

He set his teeth. “I was
carried
out of Spain on a litter because I was barely alive.”

“That might be true but you’ve never tried to restore your reputation, have you?”

He stared at her, his breathing as labored as hers. “Why should I bother to defend myself when I’m already condemned?”

“Because many see your silence as a confirmation of your guilt.”

“The men who fought with me, the prisoners in that French prison,
they
know me,
they
know I’d never betray my country.”
He leaned closer. “Perhaps I’m not like you. I don’t need everyone to think that I’m perfect.”

She flinched at that. “I don’t …”

Shaken, he cupped her cheek. “I didn’t mean that, Lisette. God, I …”

She stepped out of his reach. “You might not have meant it, but it’s probably true.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I think my father is calling us.”

“Don’t walk away from me now,” he said urgently, quietly. “Not like this.”

“You don’t have to stay.” She swallowed hard.

“Of course I’m staying. We’re married and this is a perfect opportunity for me to stand by you and help restore our battered reputations.” He bowed. “You’re right about one thing. I can’t keep running away from everything.”

L
isette smiled at the next guest in the line, allowed her hand to be kissed, and answered a question about her recent marriage, all without really registering who she was talking to or what she actually said in reply. She just wanted the ball to end so she could stop pretending everything was fine. Hadn’t she done that her whole life? Tried to keep her family together with her boundless optimism and refusal to dwell on the past?

Just to make matters worse, Gabriel stood by her side, his faint smile in evidence, the tension coursing through him at being trapped in the receiving line evident in every taut line of his body. He thought she didn’t want him, thought she played games with his emotions….

“Lisette, why don’t you and Gabriel go and mingle with the guests, now?” her mother asked quietly. “I’ve asked Marguerite and Anthony to do the same.”

Gabriel took her hand and led her into the ballroom, his grasp firm, his presence beside her both a sanctuary and a hell.

“May I get you something to drink, my dear?”

She glanced up at him and realized he wasn’t looking at her at all. “Yes, please, that would be lovely.”

He placed her gloved hand on his sleeve and walked through the assembled guests, nodding occasionally at acquaintances but not stopping to speak to anyone. She’d forgotten how much he hated crowds. Spending the evening by her side would cost him a restless night. She sensed the strain in him already.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She took a deep steadying breath. “For staying with me despite everything.”

The small orchestra started tuning their instruments and the chatter around them grew more animated until it was difficult to hear. “I mean it, Gabriel. What I said to you earlier about always running away from things—you’ve already proved me wrong by standing up with me tonight.”

“You are my wife. What else would I do?” He inclined his head, found her a seat, and walked across to the buffet table to get them something to drink.

She waited until he took the seat opposite her and plucked up her courage. “I do not want to stay here for very long myself this evening.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m not feeling very well.”

“Ah. I suppose that is understandable.” He drank his lemonade. “We’ll stay for a few dances and then we can leave.”

“Are you ever going to look at me again?” she whispered. He was silent for so long that she had to glance up at him.

“Is this another of your games?” He sounded as weary and defeated as she felt.

“No, I just hate it when you are angry with me.”

“That’s because you want everyone to like you and be happy around you.”

“Not everyone. Just you.” She took a deep breath. “I wanted that baby, too. I cried all afternoon. I want to be married to you, Gabriel.”

He looked at her then. “But …?”

“But nothing.” She held his gaze. “I just want to be married to you.”

“Excuse me, Swanfield, but there is something you need to know.”

Gabriel looked up at Paul St. Clare and sighed. From the determined expression on his friend’s face he guessed Paul wouldn’t leave until he’d spoken to him.

“Paul, can’t you see that I am busy?”

Paul lowered his head and whispered, “Lord Nash is in the card room and he’s already making trouble.”

Gabriel stood up. “I’m sorry, my dear. There is something I need to attend to for your father. Will you excuse me for a moment?”

Lisette barely nodded, and he cursed Paul’s timing, knew that he would probably regret not staying with her, but realized he had no choice. He followed Paul toward the rear of the ballroom where two rooms had been set aside for cards and gaming.

He didn’t need to ask which room Lord Nash occupied; the sound of raucous laughter was enough to guide him. He entered the room as quietly as he could and worked his way around the edge of the small crowd that had gathered around a handsome blond man.

He noticed Christian approaching from the other doorway and managed to catch his eye, made sure that his new brother-in-law understood that if anyone was taking Nash on, it would be him.

A couple of the men standing next to him seemed to recognize
who he was and stepped aside, until eventually there was a substantial gap in front of Nash, which Gabriel adroitly filled.

He smiled gently at his victim.

“Good evening. Would I be addressing Lord Nash?”

“Indeed you would, sir.” Lord Nash bowed and toasted Gabriel with his glass. “I regret I cannot return the salutation, sir, as I do not have the pleasure of your acquaintance.”

Gabriel continued to smile and several more of the men gathered around Nash quietly dispersed. From the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw that Christian had been joined by Paul and Lieutenant Colonel Constantine Delinsky and that they were ushering everyone out of the card room. “Apparently you are acquainted with my wife.”

Nash’s smile disappeared. “Your wife?” He laughed nervously. “I doubt that, sir, seeing as I’m not the sort of man who likes to dabble with married women.”

“Oh, she wasn’t married when you ‘dabbled’ with her.”

Nash glanced sideways at the door. “I have no idea what you are referring to, sir, perhaps you have mistaken me for someone else. Will you please excuse me?”

Gabriel moved slightly to bar his way. “I’m the Earl of Swan-field.”

“Swanfield?” Nash swallowed loudly.

“Do you recall my wife now?”

“Are you referring to Miss Delornay-Ross? I was just talking about her sudden rise in fortunes.” Nash forced a smile. “You can hardly blame me for repeating the truth, sir. Your wife wasn’t exactly a saint in her youth.”

“My wife was a young woman who believed she was in love. The fact that she believed she was in love with
you
is perhaps baffling, but she wasn’t experienced enough to know what a complete bastard you were, was she?”

“I say, my lord, that is …”

Gabriel stepped even closer so that his face was half an inch from Nash’s. “She also had no idea that you were pursuing her simply to win a bet.”

“I didn’t need to pursue her, Swanfield. She was quite willing to bed me.” He sniggered. “As willing as she was to bed her own twin, or so I’ve been told.”

Rage seared through Gabriel’s veins as Nash continued to preen for his audience. “She was in love with you. She believed you meant to marry her.”

“Ah, is that what she told you, Swanfield?” Nash asked, as if they were the best of friends. “Did she pretend to be a virgin to ensnare you? I can understand that you might be a trifle annoyed about that, but it is scarcely my fault, is it?”

Gabriel wrapped his hand around Nash’s neck and squeezed until the man’s eyes bulged. “She pretended nothing, and you are a pathetic excuse for a gentleman.”

Someone cleared his throat beside him. “Gabriel? Don’t kill him. He’s not worth dying for.”

He realized that Paul was speaking to him and he managed to lessen his grip and refocus on Lord Nash.

“As far as I am concerned, whatever my wife did before our marriage is irrelevant. I suggest that you forget you ever knew her, because if I ever hear a single whisper that you have been gossiping about her, I will find you and kill you. Do you understand?”

He released his grip and Lord Nash staggered backward, his cheeks flushed a hectic red. He glanced at Paul, Christian, and Constantine, straightened his cravat, and managed a sneer.

“I should have known a man with your lack of class wouldn’t bother with the formality of a duel. And perhaps you and Miss Delornay-Ross deserve each other. I understand from your cousin that your mother and your wife’s mother are well matched as both of them are lower-class whores.”

Before Gabriel could react, Christian had a knife at Nash’s
throat and drew it across his skin. Blood trickled down from a small puncture wound just behind his ear to mar the whiteness of Nash’s intricately folded cravat. “What did you say?”

“Nothing! I said nothing.” Nash whimpered.

Christian laughed. “The only coward I see here is you, Nash, a man afraid of a little blood, especially when it’s his own.”

Gabriel touched Christian’s shoulder. “Leave it, Delornay. He doesn’t merit either your attention or your anger.”

Christian let Nash go and stepped back. “You can thank my brother-in-law for your life by remaining silent about my sister.” He pocketed the knife. “But if you say another word about my family, I will come after you as well, and my methods of silencing you will not only be painful but terminal.”

Lord Nash staggered backward and met Gabriel’s stare; his mouth worked but no words came out of it. Gabriel nodded at the door. “Get out and let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

They watched Lord Nash leave, escorted by Delinsky and Paul. Christian turned to Gabriel, his normally cool eyes full of rage and anguish. He reminded Gabriel of himself in his younger days. “He insulted my family and yours. Don’t you care?”

“Of course I care, but murdering the fool in cold blood at your sister’s coming-out ball would hardly help matters, would it?”

Christian sat down with a thump. “I suppose not, but I doubt he’ll remain silent, do you? He seemed rather put out that we disagreed with him at all.”

“He’s a fool,” Gabriel said abruptly. “If we have to, we’ll deal with him in private. There are many ways to make his life very uncomfortable without actually killing him.”

“But none of them are quite so satisfying,” Christian muttered.

Gabriel tasted bile and swallowed hard. “Maybe for you, but I’ve seen enough bloodshed to last me a lifetime.”

When Christian told Lisette what had happened, would she think Gabriel a coward? Would she assume he’d turned his back on a fight because that was his nature? He got to his feet. “I have to find Lisette.”

“Before the gossips do.”

“Something like that.” He nodded at Christian. “I appreciate your help.”

“Even though I damn near killed the man?”

Gabriel shrugged. “You did what you thought was right.” He looked over at the door where the previously evacuated card players were now returning. “I’ll see you later.”

While she waited for Gabriel to return, Lisette listlessly plied her fan and watched the other guests promenade around the ballroom waiting for the first dance to start. A dance she would miss if Gabriel didn’t return soon. Had he arranged for Paul to interrupt him if he saw Lisette was making his life difficult? Or was Paul simply so in tune with Gabriel that he’d sensed the conflict and acted by himself?

She sighed and took a sip of the champagne Gabriel had brought her. Emily walked by with their father, her face alight with happiness, and Lisette had to smile. Whatever her parents’ motives in hastening her marriage, Lisette couldn’t deny that Emily would benefit from it. At least she’d have the opportunity to find a man she loved without the specter of a ruined reputation behind her.

“Lady Swanfield?”

“Yes?”

She turned to find an elderly man at her elbow. His skin was the color of yellowed parchment, and he walked with the aid of a cane. Without asking for permission, he took the seat that Gabriel had vacated.

“So you’re Gabriel’s wife.”

Lisette studied the old man cautiously. “I am. Might I ask your name, sir?”

“I’m Mr. Reginald Granger. Your husband’s uncle and trustee.”

Lisette stiffened. “Good manners dictate that I should be pleased to meet you, sir, but I find myself unable to agree.”

Mr. Granger smiled to reveal small, rotting teeth. “I assume Gabriel has told you his twisted version of events. That boy has no respect for the years I toiled away for him, no respect at all.”

“He is scarcely a boy, sir, and perfectly able to handle his own affairs.”

His laughter was meant to belittle, to hurt. “You didn’t see him when he returned from Spain, did you? I had no problem convincing the highest court in this land that he was incapable of managing his estates.”

“As far as I understand it, sir, my husband was far too ill to defend himself from any assault on his estates or his person.”

“Told you that, did he?” Mr. Granger gave a bark of laughter. “Did he forget to mention that he signed everything over to me again?”

Lisette slowly shut her fan and tried not to let her surprise show on her face. She looked away from the old man and straight into Gabriel’s stormy blue eyes. With all the care she could muster, she rose to her feet.

“Your uncle just introduced himself to me.”

Gabriel inclined his head. “I can see that.”

“He really is a most unpleasant individual, isn’t he?”

Gabriel’s gaze flicked to his uncle and remained there as if he couldn’t bear to look away. “Aye, he is.”

Mr. Granger didn’t bother to rise. “I was just telling your wife why you’ll never get your estates back from me.”

“He insists you signed them over to him on your return from Spain.”

Gabriel’s expression stilled. “Is that so?” Lisette stepped
closer to him as his gaze locked with his uncle and his whole body tensed as if for battle. “Good night, Uncle.”

He took Lisette’s hand and started for the door. When they reached the landing and stepped into the crowds milling on the stairs, he froze as if he had no idea what to do next. Lisette tugged on his hand.

“Come this way. It’s a lot quieter.”

She guided him through the servants’ door and along the narrow passageways to her old bedchamber. He walked across to the unlit fire and sank into one of the chairs, his head in his hands. Lisette didn’t say anything as she took the chair opposite him.

After a long while, he raised his head. “I suppose you want to know if it is true.”

“That you signed over the estate to him?”

His mouth twisted. “He’s right. I did.”

She studied him carefully as he shoved a hand through his hair.

“Aren’t you going to crow?”

“Why would I do that?”

He looked up at her. “Doesn’t this confirm your suspicions that I walk away from damn near
everything
?”

Lisette took a careful breath. Here was her opportunity to make things right, to show him that she could understand his problems and help him face them, that she didn’t want to pretend that everything was perfect anymore. “Despite great provocation, you haven’t walked away from me, so I must assume that whatever your uncle did to make you sign away your rights was heinous indeed.”