Chapter 10 #3
“I think he felt like a fraud inside,” she said pensively, “and that made him angry. He was an earl, but the estate was a shambles and in terrible debt, and he knew practically nothing about how to manage it.”
“Did he ever discuss it with you?”
Pandora smiled without humor. “No, Theo never discussed anything with me, or with Cassandra and Helen. My family wasn’t like yours at all. We were like...” She hesitated thoughtfully. “Well, there was something I once read...”
“Tell me,” Gabriel said softly.
“It was an astronomy book that said in most of the constellations, the stars don’t actually belong together.
They only appear to. They look to us as if they’re close to each other, but some of them exist in another part of the galaxy altogether.
That’s how my family was. We seemed to belong to the same group, but we were all very far apart.
Except for me and Cassandra, of course.”
“What about Lady Helen?”
“She’s always been very loving and kind, but she lived in her own world.
We’re much closer now, actually.” Pandora paused, staring at him fixedly and thinking she could try for hours to describe her family, and she still wouldn’t be able to convey the truth of it.
The way her parents’ love for each other had been conducted like warfare.
The glittering beauty of her untouchable mother, who would disappear to London for long stretches of time.
Her father, with his unpredictable mixture of violence and indifference.
Helen, who had appeared only rarely, like a visiting wraith, and Theo, with his occasional moments of careless kindness.
“Your life at Eversby Priory was very secluded,” Gabriel commented.
Pandora nodded absently. “I used to fantasize about being out in society. Having hundreds of friends, going everywhere, and seeing everything. But if you live in isolation long enough, it becomes part of you. And then when you try to change, it’s like looking into the sun. You can’t bear it for too long.”
“It’s only a matter of practice,” he said gently.
They continued the first hand of cards, which Pandora ended up winning, and played another, which she lost to Gabriel. After congratulating him good-naturedly, she asked, “Shall we stop now, and leave it a draw?”
His brows lifted. “With no victor? ”
“I’m a better player than you,” she told him kindly. “I’m trying to spare you the inevitable defeat.”
Gabriel grinned. “Now I insist on a third hand.” He slid the deck of cards toward her. “Your turn to deal.” As Pandora shuffled the cards, he leaned back in his chair and regarded her speculatively. “Shall we make the game more interesting by having the loser pay a forfeit?”
“What kind of forfeit?”
“The winner decides.”
Pandora chewed her lower lip, mulling over possibilities. She sent him a mischievous grin. “Are you truly bad at singing, as you said before?”
“My singing is an insult to the very air.”
“Then if I win, your forfeit is to sing ‘God Save The Queen’ in the middle of the entrance hall.”
“Where it will echo unmercifully?” Gabriel sent her a glance of mock-alarm. “Good God. I had no idea you were so ruthless.”
“Pirate,” Pandora reminded him regretfully, and dealt.
Gabriel gathered up his cards. “I was going to suggest a fairly easy forfeit for you, but now I see I’ll have to come up with something more severe.”
“Do your worst,” Pandora said cheerfully. “I’m already accustomed to looking foolish. Nothing you propose will bother me.”
But as she should have expected, that turned out not to be true.
Gabriel’s gaze lifted slowly from his cards, eyes bright in a way that caused the back of her neck to prickle. “If I win,” he said, his voice low, “you’ll meet me back here at half past midnight. Alone.”
Unnerved, Pandora asked, “For what? ”
“A midnight rendezvous.”
She looked at him without comprehension.
“I thought you might like to experience one for yourself,” he added.
Her stunned mind recalled the first night they’d met, when they’d argued over Dolly’s rendezvous with Mr. Hayhurst. Hot blood rose to her cheeks. He had been so nice—she’d been feeling so comfortable with him—and now he’d made a proposition that any decent woman would find insulting.
“You’re supposed to be a gentleman,” she whispered sharply.
Gabriel tried—and failed—to look apologetic. “I have lapses.”
“You can’t possibly think I would agree to that.”
To her annoyance, he regarded her as if she had all the worldly experience of a new-laid egg. “I understand.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You understand what?”
“You’re afraid.”
“I am not!” With as much dignity as she could summon, she added, “But I would like a different forfeit.”
“No.”
Pandora’s incredulous gaze flew to his, while the Ravenel temper blazed up like freshly stirred coals. “I’ve been trying very hard not to like you,” she said darkly. “Finally, it’s working.”
“You can call off the rest of the game, if you wish,” Gabriel said in a matter-of-fact tone. “But if you decide to play—and you lose—that’s the forfeit.” He sat back in his chair and watched as she struggled to recover her composure.
Why had he challenged her like this? And why was she hesitating?
Some lunatic impulse kept her from backing down.
It made no sense. She didn’t understand herself.
A confusion of recoil and attraction filled her.
Glancing at Gabriel, she saw that although he appeared relaxed, his gaze was keen, taking in every detail of her reaction.
Somehow he’d known that she would have trouble refusing him.
The room was filled with an ambient mix of conversation, piano music, laughter, the rattling of teacups and saucers, the clinking of crystal decanters and glasses, the riffling of cards from the nearby whist game, the tactful murmuring of servants, gentlemen coming in after having cigars on the balcony.
She found it nearly impossible to believe that she and Gabriel were discussing something so outrageous in the midst of a respectable family gathering.
Yes. She was afraid. They were playing a very adult game, with real risks and consequences.
Looking through the screened window, Pandora saw that the balcony was empty and shadowy, with night closing around the nearby headland. “May we step outside for a moment?” she asked quietly.
Gabriel stood and helped her from her chair.
They went out on the covered balcony, which extended the entire length of the house’s main section, the sides framed with latticework and climbing roses.
By tacit agreement, they went as far away as possible from the family parlor windows.
A westering breeze carried the sounds of the surf and the cry of an errant seabird, and whisked away the last pungent wisps of tobacco smoke.
Leaning back against one of the white-painted support columns, Pandora folded her arms tightly across her chest.
Gabriel stood beside her, facing the opposite direction, his hands braced on the balcony railing as he looked out to sea. “A storm is coming,” he commented.
“How can you tell?”
“Clouds on the horizon, moving in on a crosswind. The heat will break tonight.”
Pandora looked at his profile, silhouetted against the red tarnish of sunset.
He was a fantasy figure—the kind who existed in other girls’ dreams. Not hers.
Before she came to Heron’s Point, she had known exactly what she wanted, and what she didn’t want, but now everything was muddled.
She thought Gabriel might be trying to convince himself that he liked her well enough to marry her.
However, she had come to understand enough about his commitment to his family and responsibilities to be certain that he would never voluntarily choose someone like her as his wife.
Not unless it was a point of honor, to save her ruined reputation. Even if she didn’t want to be saved.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face him fully. “Are you going to try to seduce me?”
Gabriel had the gall to smile at her bluntness. “I might try to tempt you. But the choice would be yours.” He paused. “Are you worried that you might not want me to stop?”
Pandora snorted. “After what my sister Helen told me about the conjugal embrace, I can’t fathom why any woman would willingly consent to it. But I suppose if any man could make it slightly less revolting than it sounds, it would be you.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel said, sounding bemused. “I think.”
“But no matter how non-repulsive you might be able to make it,” Pandora continued, “I still have no desire to try it. ”
“Even with a husband?” he asked softly.
Pandora hoped the shadows helped to conceal her reddening face. “If I were married, I would have no choice but to fulfill my legal spousal obligation. But I still wouldn’t want to.”
“Don’t be so sure. I have persuasive skills you don’t know about yet.” His lips twitched at her expression. “Shall we go inside and finish the game?”
“Not when you’ve demanded a forfeit that goes against every principle.”
“You’re not worried about principles.” Gabriel leaned closer, crowding her gently back against the column. His taunting whisper curled in her right ear like a wisp of smoke. “You’re worried that you might do something naughty with me and enjoy it.”
Pandora was silent, trembling with mortified surprise at the slow burn of excitement that had awakened in all the intimate places of her body.
“Let fate decide,” Gabriel said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Her reply was honest and a bit wobbly. “I could end up having no choices left.”
“I’ll leave you a virgin. Only a little less innocent.” His fingertips found the inside of her wrist, his fingertips stroking a tiny pulse. “Pandora, you’re not living up to your reputation as the misbehaving twin. Take a risk. Have a little adventure with me.”
Pandora had never imagined being vulnerable to this kind of temptation, never guessed at how difficult it would be to resist. Meeting him in secret, at night, would be the most genuinely disgraceful thing she’d ever done, and she wasn’t entirely certain that he would keep his promise.
But conscience was putting up the flimsiest, most feeble possible defense against a desire that seemed shameful in its blind power.
Weak with nerves and hunger and anger, she made her decision too quickly, the way she made most of her decisions.
“I’ll finish the game,” she said crisply. “And before the night ends, the entrance hall will be echoing with your stirring rendition of the national anthem. All six verses.”
His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I only know the first verse, so you’ll have to settle for hearing that one six times.”
I n retrospect, Pandora shouldn’t have been surprised that the last hand of whist proceeded in an entirely different manner than the first two hands. Gabriel’s playing style altered drastically, no longer cautious but aggressive and swift. He won trick after trick with miraculous ease.
It wasn’t a fleecing. It was a massacre.
“Are these cards marked?” Pandora asked irritably, trying to inspect the backs of them without revealing her hand.
Gabriel looked affronted. “No, it was a sealed deck. You saw me open it. Would you like me to fetch a new one?”
“Don’t bother.” Doggedly she played out the rest of the hand, knowing already how it would end.
There was no need to tally up the points. He’d won by such a large margin that it would have been a pointless exercise.
“Cousin Devon was right to warn me,” Pandora muttered in disgust. “I’ve been flamboozled. You’re not a mediocre player at all, are you?”
“Sweetheart,” he said softly, “I learned how to play cards from the best sharpers in London while I was still in short trousers.”
“Swear to me these cards weren’t marked,” she demanded, “and that you weren’t hiding any up your sleeve.”
He gave her a level glance. “I swear it.”
In a turmoil of anxiety, anger, and self-blame, Pandora pushed back from the table and stood before he could move to help her. “I’ve had enough of games for now. I’m going to sit with my sister and the other girls.”
“Don’t be cross,” Gabriel coaxed, rising to his feet. “You can back out if you wish.”
Although she knew the offer was meant to be conciliatory, Pandora was highly insulted nonetheless. “I take games seriously, my lord. Paying a debt is a matter of honor—or do you assume that because I’m a woman, my word means less than yours?”
“No,” he said hastily.
She gave him a cold glance. “I will meet you later.” Turning on her heel, she walked away, trying to keep her stride relaxed and her face expressionless. But her insides had frozen with abject fear as she thought of what she would soon face.
A rendezvous . . . alone with Gabriel . . . at night . . . in the dark.
Oh God, what have I done?