The Unexpected Marriage of Gabriel Stone (Lords of Disgrace) (16 page)

Caroline came to herself with her head on Gabriel’s chest, knowing exactly where she was, who she was with.
I love him.
She knew that as a certainty, too, and she knew not to say the words. Not yet.
I will show him if he will only give me the chance.

She raised her head and discovered that Gabriel was asleep. Infinitely slowly she wriggled and slid until she could prop herself up on the pillow next to him and study him. The clever, cynical face was relaxed and off guard. Vulnerable. He looked younger with the dark lashes on his cheeks, the wayward hair tousled over his brow, the mocking mouth softened and curved into a half-smile. She could imagine him as a wild, eager youth and wondered at the process that had turned him into the self-sufficient man behind the gambler’s mask.

She reached down to pull the sheet up over their bodies, left the candles to burn themselves out, then snuggled back against him.
I will be sleeping with this man for the rest of my life now. If I can keep him. If we can make this work.
Her lids drooped and she fell asleep to the beat of his heart beneath her cheek.

* * *

Gabriel woke to dawn light and a feeling of bodily well-being. Except for cold feet. There was a definite warm draught stirring the hairs on his chest. He turned his head on the pillow and found Caroline curled up against him, her nose buried just under his collarbone, her hair veiling her face.

He had taken her virginity before marriage, yet he could feel no guilt.
We’ve done it, there’s no way back from this, she cannot change her mind now.

Her honesty about her physical desires had taken his breath away. Caroline, it seemed, was not good at prevaricating, not with herself and not, apparently, with him. That could be refreshing, it could be perilous. The little white lies and hypocrisies of everyday life kept the wheels of society moving smoothly and they probably kept marriages running smoothly as well, at least on the surface.

The nights, it seemed, would be pleasurable if Caroline’s sensual enthusiasm was anything to judge by. Which should mean she would be with child soon and that, surely, would content her. He supposed he would have to modify his life a trifle. Now he was about to take a wife he could hardly act the rackety bachelor every night. He wanted her to be happy, to enjoy being a countess. She deserved that.
Dinner parties
, he thought vaguely.
She’ll want escorting around to balls and so forth when the Season starts. Almack’s, even
. He grimaced. Alex and Cris would be taking their wives, Caroline could join their parties.

But that aside, his life wouldn’t change that much. He’d give her a good allowance, let her loose on the London house to start with. When a child was on the way she could move down to Edenvale and amuse herself with making that over as she wanted. The more she changed it, the happier he would be. There was no need to worry about emotions, about breaking her heart. This had been a marriage of necessity and he had been frank from the start. She was an intelligent woman who could have few illusions about him.

He found he cared that she was happy, an uncomfortable, unwelcome burden.
Keep her at a distance
, his head warned him even as he felt that warm, contented, sensation in his chest.
You’ll only let her down sooner or later if she comes to believe this is more than it is.

Caroline stirred, stretched, and her hand began to move slowly across his stomach. Yes, this was going to work.

‘Good morning.’ He slid up against the pillows with the result that her hand slipped southwards in a most delightful manner.

‘Oh!’ To his regret Caroline let go of his enthusiastically awakening wedding tackle and sat up in a swirl of sheets. Her eyes were sultry with sleep, her mouth was swollen with kisses and her cheeks were pink. ‘Gabriel.’

‘Which is who you were expecting, I trust. Did you sleep well?’

‘So well.’ She stretched with her arms above her head, presenting him with a ravishing picture of perfect small breasts, the movement of skin and muscle over her rib cage and stomach and a glimpse of her secret triangle of dark-blonde hair.

There was no artifice in the gesture, no calculation. Caroline was waking up, she needed to stretch and she was comfortable enough with him to do so without hesitation or self-consciousness. He was not used to that and it was, ‘Delicious,’ Gabriel murmured and pounced, rolling her on to her back and leaning on one elbow to look down at her. ‘Are you sore?’

That did make her blush. She wriggled experimentally, causing his heart rate to kick up several beats. ‘A little.’

He tossed the sheet on to the floor, slid down the bed and worked his way between her legs, pushing her thighs apart with his shoulders.

‘Gabriel?’

‘Shh. Relax. Go back to sleep if you like.’
As though I would let you.

‘Gabriel!’ His name broke in the middle and Caroline gave a faint shriek as he lowered his mouth to her.

He put his hands firmly on either side of her hips to hold her still and licked into the core of her, exploring her secrets, relentlessly gentle and persistent until her gasps of protest turned into sighs and she began to lift her hips to meet his questing lips and tongue. He took her over once, then again, then came up her body to slide into the soft wet heat that was so ready for him. She came for him again, crying his name as she convulsed around him, sending him over the edge, all technique and restraint forgotten.

‘Are you still reconciled?’ she asked a little later, her eyelashes tickling as she leaned over to kiss his throat.

‘Oh, yes, I think so, although I believe we will have to repeat the exercise frequently to make certain.’

She laughed softly as he pulled her tight against his side and Gabriel relaxed. Caroline was a darling. This marriage business would be no trouble at all, provided he kept it at the level of sex and friendship.

Chapter Sixteen

‘L
ord Edenbridge. Good morning, my lord.’ The Avenmore butler regarded Gabriel with a more kindly eye than he deserved, given that they had arrived on the doorstep of the St James’s Square house at the outrageous hour of nine o’clock. ‘My lord and lady are at breakfast, but if you would care to wait in the drawing room, I will apprise them of your arrival.’

‘We’ll join them, Benson. Just send in two more place settings.’

‘Yes, my lord.’ The butler did not quite roll his eyes, but Gabriel suspected it was a close-run thing. ‘Should I announce you? The lady—’

‘No need.’ He took Caroline’s arm and ushered her through to the dining room. ‘Good morning.’

‘What have you done now?’ Cris enquired, folding
The Times
and setting it beside hisplate as he got to his feet. ‘Good morning, Lady Caroline.’

‘Cris!’ Tamsyn scolded, getting to her feet, too, and hurrying around the table to hug Caroline. She released her, regarded Gabriel with her head on one side for a moment, grinned and hugged him, too. ‘You are going to get married, aren’t you? Sit down and have some breakfast and tell us all about it. I’ll just ring for— Oh, thank you, Benson.’

Gabriel waited until he had served both himself and Caroline from the buffet. ‘Yes. I am almost afraid to ask how you know. Some form of Devon witchcraft, I assume.’

Tamsyn shook her head at him. ‘A woman’s instinct. I only had to look at the pair of you.’

‘What happened?’ Cris, with his usual uncanny nose for trouble, knew this was more than a sudden attack of romance.

‘My father found me,’ Caroline said. She was wary of Cris, he knew, but he could only admire the calm way she gave him back blue-eyed stare for stare. ‘And Gabriel was there.’

‘So Caroline gallantly saved my honour, and what remains of my good name, by consenting to marry me.’ He saw her fingers tighten on the knife and fork as he spoke.
You must get used to it, my dear. Life with me is no romantic bed of roses.

‘You are a fortunate man,’ Cris said. ‘I felicitate you. Caroline, tell me what we can do to help you. We are entirely at your disposal.’

‘I hardly like to ask it, but Gabriel suggested that you might allow us to marry here.’ She was perfectly calm, perfectly composed. For a moment Gabriel was lulled into thinking that everything was all right, that Caroline was placidly accepting things as they were, as they had to be. Then he realised that she had learned this calm acceptance as a defence against her father’s tempers, his moods, his blows. And now she was using it as a defence against him.

‘Gabriel?’

He looked up at the whisper to see Tamsyn’s concerned expression, then down to where the fragile coffee cup had cracked in his hand.
Unthinking violence. Hell, what is happening to me?

‘Lord, I’m a clumsy oaf,’ he said lightly. ‘I’m sorry, Tamsyn. I’ll replace it.’ He glanced around and found Cris was still talking to Caroline.

‘Please, don’t worry about it. I bought them in Mr Wedgwood’s showroom across the Square only a few days ago. It is no trouble to find another.’ She passed him another cup and murmured, ‘Gabriel, is everything all right?’

‘Yes, of course it is. Unpleasant for Caroline, of course, her father ranting and raving and then finding herself landed with me as a husband. But for myself, I couldn’t be happier.’

‘No. Of course not.’ Her expression was a trifle quizzical. ‘As the daughter of an earl she must be considered most eligible, which we know is of paramount importance to you.’

‘Are you ever going to forgive me for opposing your match with Cris?’ he asked.

‘Certainly I will.’ Her slanting smile carried promises and threats. ‘Provided you make Caroline a good husband.’

‘I have every intention of doing so.’

‘I am sure you have. But is your definition of a good husband the same as mine, I wonder?’

Gabriel had told himself he was not going to be riled by her, that her wariness of him was more than understandable, so it was a surprise to find himself snapping back. ‘As we all know Cris is a paragon of all the virtues, so I doubt anyone else can reach his level of perfection as a husband.’

He deserved a snub for that remark, he knew, not to provoke Tamsyn into laughter. He assumed an expression of mild enquiry, accompanied by one of his better sardonic smiles, as Cris said, ‘Now what is amusing you, my love?’

‘Gabriel considers that you are a paragon of all the virtues and must be making me an absolutely perfect husband.’ Tamsyn was mopping her eyes with her napkin.

‘And am I not?’ Gabriel had never seen that tender look in the ice-blue eyes before.

‘You are coming along very nicely, my lord,’ Tamsyn said primly. ‘Constant practice is, of course, required.’

‘As with everything,’ Cris observed. ‘I must confess myself deeply flattered by your opinion, Gabriel. On the other hand, if I was certain you would know a virtue when you saw one, I might be more complacent.’

‘Gabriel has many virtues,’ Caroline said hotly. ‘I beg your pardon, Lord Avenmore, but I will not sit by and have him abused.’

‘He is teasing me,’ Gabriel said, and then, when she still looked unconvinced, added, ‘Male friends do, you know.’

‘It is true,’ Tamsyn put in. ‘You must have observed it. The fonder they are of each other, the more objectionable they become. Men are not good at showing their emotions. Look at them—they both look thoroughly uncomfortable now.’

‘As Gabriel appears to have finished his breakfast he and I can go and be uncomfortable together and leave you two to the full and frank exchange of your emotional states while you discuss arrangements for the wedding.’ Cris got to his feet. ‘Bring the coffee pot, Gabe, and we will retreat to the library to lick our wounds.’

* * *

‘I have known you for years, yet when you look like that I still cannot read you,’ Cris observed as they settled into the chairs facing each other on either side of the library fireplace. ‘I have no idea whether you are delighted that your hand has been forced or appalled that you have to do the honourable thing.’ He took a mouthful of coffee. ‘Which is why I never play cards with you except for coppers.’

‘I am neither,’ Gabriel said. Strange that he did not resent Cris’s probing, but then he and his three friends had never had secrets, not about the things that really mattered. Certainly not about the wounds they all carried from long ago. Except the one thing that he never, ever, talked about. ‘I am simply content with the arrangement. I should marry because of the title and Caroline is perfectly eligible if one discounts her appalling father. I like and admire her. There is a certain basic mutual attraction.’

‘Yes, one can see that.’ Cris’s lips twitched.

‘I believe her reluctance is because she knows my hand is being forced. I made the mistake of attempting moral blackmail when I was desperate for her to agree. However, she is now resigned because I am, apparently, considerably better than the alternatives on offer.’

The twitch became one of his friend’s rare grins. ‘The more I see of Lady Caroline the more I approve of her.’ He filled his cup and watched Gabriel over the rim. ‘So why are you merely content, given that you are definitely attracted?’

‘You think I will make any kind of a decent husband? Leaving aside this scandal, my reputation is not going to be any help to her. If we’re received I’ll squire her about, of course, but I’m hoping she’ll be happier in the country bringing up the children.’

‘This is not really about your reputation, is it?’

‘I always thought you were a loss to the legal profession. You should be making some poor soul’s life hell on the witness stand, not interrogating me.’ Gabriel leaned across to take the coffee pot and stayed silent until he had drunk the fresh cupful. ‘But, yes, you are right, of course. Damn it, Cris, I have no idea how to be a decent husband. I’ll be kind to her, look after her—that goes without saying. But neither of us were brought up to know what a happy family looks like. Her father is a self-centred obsessive, you know that. And then he hit her.’

‘Does she realise how much you have in common?’ Cris asked.

Gabriel shook his head. ‘And she won’t.’

‘She will when she sees your back. Or has she already?’

‘Not yet.’ He moved uneasily as though the pressure of the chair back might chafe the old scars into active life again and shifted the subject. ‘How do you do it, you and Alex and Grant? You all make your wives happy.’

‘Love,’ Cris said simply. ‘It is a novelty for men raised as we were. For most aristocrats, I suppose. But we married women who understood about love and family and
warmth
, I suppose. Do you love Caroline?’

‘No.’ Gabriel was certain about that. He had no idea what loving a woman in the emotional sense would feel like, but he was very certain he would know it if it happened to him. It had changed his friends and he was the same man that he had been before Caroline had erupted into his life. Absolutely the same.

‘Does she love you?’

Lord, I hope not.
The thought of hurting Caroline appalled him. He would try his best, but he felt he was embarking on a journey with no road maps, no compass. ‘I told you. She’s resigned to marrying me, but that is all.’

‘If you want my advice, and you probably do not, tell her about your family.’

‘You mean so she can conclude that I will turn out like my father and flee screaming?’ Gabriel enquired.

‘You never would. You wouldn’t be worrying about it if there was any danger of that.’

‘What a comfort you are,’ Gabriel retorted to cover the fact that, yes, it
was
a comforting thought. ‘I hardly recognise you.’

‘I know it. It must be the effects of marriage. What do you say, shall we see if Alex can join us and we’ll have a bachelor night out on the town?’

‘Perfect. I’ll call in on him on my way home.’ He got to his feet, but stopped at the door. ‘Did I tell you I found a new hell just off Hill Street?’

‘I am not playing cards with you! Have you any idea how expensive wives are?’

Gabriel was still smiling when he collected his hat from Benson.
Thank heavens for my friends.
‘Would you give my compliments to Lady Caroline and tell her I will call tomorrow? I imagine she is closeted with Lady Avenmore at the moment.’

He tipped his hat to a rakish angle, pulled on his gloves and sauntered along King Street, passing Almack’s with a faint shudder. Yes, thank heavens for his friends. There was no one else he could talk freely about his demons to, no one else he would admit weakness or anxiety to either. Certainly none of those things were to be discussed with a wife, a woman who needed only his strength and his protection, not his doubts and fears and secret nightmares.

* * *

‘Madame Fleur, this may be a quiet wedding, but I can assure you it will be an important one,’ Tamsyn said with a steely determination that sent a shiver down Caroline’s spine. It looked as though it was having a similar effect on the modiste who stood in the middle of Tamsyn’s bedroom surrounded by what appeared to be the entire stock of her shop, a number of half-finished gowns and several twittering assistants.

‘You are being given the opportunity not only to provide the wedding gown for the new Countess of Edenbridge, but her entire wardrobe. And to demonstrate that I was right to select you to dress me exclusively,’ Tamsyn continued.

The calculation was plain on the dressmaker’s face: upset a number of clients who were waiting for gowns or seriously displease the Marchioness of Avenmore
and
lose the publicity surrounding what might well be the most talked-of wedding of the summer.

‘But of course, my lady.’ Madame rose to the occasion, gathered up her tape measure. ‘My hesitation was merely while I acquainted myself with Lady Caroline’s colouring and style. If you would condescend to disrobe and to stand here, my lady, we will begin. The entire wardrobe, you say?’

‘Everything except a court dress. That can wait,’ Tamsyn said, brushing lightly past the fact that one might never be needed.

* * *

Two hours later Tamsyn was still talking of lists as they descended the stairs. ‘Millinery, shoes, stockings, corsets, lingerie, ribbons, hairdresser...I need more paper. I will go and jot all this down while I think of it. Why don’t you go and have a rest in the drawing room for a while? Do ring for the tea tray.’ She swept on, leaving Caroline feeling like a wilted nosegay in her wake.

‘Never mind tea, I need brandy,’ she murmured as she walked into the front reception room.

A young man clutching a leather portfolio rose to his feet. ‘Lady Caroline? Benson said I might wait for you in here.’

Sandy hair, green eyes, half a head shorter than Gabriel and not yet twenty.
‘Are you by any chance Mr Louis Stone?’ she enquired, holding out her hand to him.
At last, a glimpse into Gabriel’s home life.

‘Yes, I am.’ He peered at her myopically. ‘We haven’t met, have we?’

‘No, Gabriel described you. I was just about to take tea. Will you join me, Mr Stone?’ She rang the bell, then gestured to the sofa and sat down beside him so that he did not have to squint across the room at her. ‘I am delighted to meet one of Gabriel’s family at last. Are you in London permanently?’

‘No, just for the vacation. I go back to Cambridge at the beginning of October for the Michaelmas term,’ he explained. ‘But I am staying with Gabriel for the moment and helping him as much as possible.’ He was flushed with earnest enthusiasm and Caroline was reminded painfully of Anthony, even though Lucas was almost a young man. ‘I finished today’s tasks, so I have come to see if I could be of any assistance to you, Lady Caroline.’

‘Caroline, please.’ She smiled at him, liking his earnest manner. The contrast with Gabriel was almost amusing. ‘We will be brother and sister very soon.’ He grinned at her, suddenly a student and no longer the earnest man he was trying to be. ‘Tell me how you assist Gabriel.’

He talked readily, even when the tea tray had been brought and he had to juggle cup, saucer and a plate of cakes.