Chapter Ten
Gabriel couldn’t erase the smirk from his face as he recollected Ramsford’s expression in speaking with Lady Peregrine.
He would have given a small fortune to have overheard that conversation, but Ramsford’s countenance gave him a few clues as to how it proceeded.
It was a firm setdown, of that he was certain.
Ramsford had approached with a lazy charm that was insufferably confident, and as his attention turned to Lady Peregrine, he decided that making an appearance at the Devertans’ rout was actually bloody brilliant—and entertaining as well.
Her expression was frigid fire; it was a wonder Ramsford didn’t read her immediately. Perhaps he wasn’t as intelligent as Gabriel had assumed—or maybe, Gabriel considered, he was able to read Lady Peregrine better than most.
Regardless, Ramsford’s look shifted immediately, only to have the bloody fear of God put in him when Henley approached. Gabriel chuckled to himself just imagining what Henley had said to the blackguard; the veiled threat would have been horrifying coming from one so skilled at delivering a beating.
But his thoughts lingered on Lady Peregrine. She had held her head high; her words, though he couldn’t hear them, were articulated without reservation. She didn’t shrink back—there was no fear, just determination and an unwillingness to deal with Ramsford’s arrogance.
It was glorious.
She was glorious, and for a fleeting moment, he was glad he kissed her—tasted her fire, knew the strength she held within.
Too bad it was a stolen moment.
And one he could not and would not repeat.
Gabriel shifted his gaze and started toward one of the faro tables in the several rooms lining the ballroom’s perimeter.
He was nearly to the room when he glanced back once more, his gaze scanning the room.
His steps paused as he noted the determined strides of Henley, Lady Peregrine demurely following.
Demure? Lady Peregrine? He turned to watch whatever was about to happen unfold.
She lingered behind her brother, her whole demeanor soft and so …
debutante-like. Gabriel frowned. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand she was a lady of high quality—no, he was well aware—but this was the woman who had, not ten minutes before, given a peer of the realm a sharp rejection without a blink.
She had been fierce, determined, bold even.
Now, she followed her brother, a step behind him, the perfect image of a reserved innocent.
Gabriel moved around several people standing in idle chatter to get a better view.
Henley led his sister toward a group of gentlemen, all of which seemed to cease talking at their approach.
An introduction. Henley was introducing his sister to several men, all of which seemed to quickly ask for dances, since Lady Peregrine offered an artful curtsey and then her dance card.
Gabriel frowned. If Henley were proceeding with introductions, then they were perhaps not the caliber of rake Lady Peregrine had at first intended to pursue. The thought should have offered some relief, yet Gabriel found an odd knot of irritation tightening in his chest.
He recognized one of the men, Lord Woodbury.
Affable chap, but certainly sowing his wild oats, if the titter could be believed.
Surely Henley wasn’t anticipating such a match for his sister?
Lady Peregrine would certainly not tolerate any sort of infidelity.
He winced as he considered just how Lady Peregrine would take matters into her own hands.
He dismissed the idea but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the interaction taking place. After a moment, Lord Woodbury offered his hand to Lady Peregrine and led her to the dance floor.
The knot in his chest started to burn.
He never should have darkened the bloody door of the ballroom.
He’d known it was foolish, but the temptation to see Henley and Lady Peregrine address the situation with Ramsford was too enticing.
And, if he were being honest, he wanted to ensure that Lady Peregrine was well after their private moment.
Even though it was only a kiss, it was her first, and he’d rather brazenly stolen it.
But she was no wilting English flower; that had been made abundantly clear when she had given Ramsford his setdown.
Gabriel shook off the memory of the kiss and watched as Woodbury and Lady Peregrine began dancing to a Scottish reel.
He should leave.
Or at least play faro and distract himself—distract, it was becoming a common word in his vocabulary, and he wasn’t sure how he wanted to face the truth of it.
Distraction was just a way of avoiding the reality.
But facing one’s demons shouldn’t happen in the middle of a London ballroom, so with a charming smile forced through his lips, he approached the faro table.
And played the worst set of his life.
After one game, he decided he’d be better off leaving the ball entirely, since the only time he’d been able to focus was when his attention was on somewhere it didn’t belong. Rather someone.
Exactly half a ballroom away.
Wrapped in a soft sage gown.
Damn it all. Against every shred of better judgment, Gabriel wound his way around the ballroom till he was beside Henley.
“Good evening.” He bowed, his gaze straying once to the dancers and the figure in the green dress before focusing on his friend.
“Hello to you too.” Henley raised his glass then took a step closer. “It is done.” He spoke softly, keeping his words from the listening London ton.
“I know. I watched. It was one of the highlights of my life.” Gabriel chuckled.
Henley regarded him with a grin. “It was rather fun. Pere did well; I’m not sure what she exactly said but he got the point.”
“I have no doubt he is still bleeding from the verbal wounds she gave him.”
“Likely. But I have no pity. It was less than he deserved,” Henley replied.
“I agree.” Gabriel gave a sharp nod.
His attention strayed back to the dancers. His curiosity rising to the surface, he searched for a way to ask a question regarding the introduction without raising suspicion.
“That’s an odd expression; all you need is a ledger and a pen and you could be doing calculations,” Henley teased, arching a brow.
“Math never was my strong suit. I have other … talents.”
“And that is where this conversation ends.” Henley raised a hand in surrender.
“Did you see Woodbury?” Gabriel asked, proud he came up with an inconspicuous way of ferreting out information.
“Ah, yes. Well, I didn’t notice him till Pere mentioned wanting an introduction. It’s been an age since I’ve seen him. I rather thought he was still in the Caribbean at his family’s estate.”
Gabriel nodded. “I didn’t know he’d returned either,” Gabriel added with a shrug, his suspicions validated.
However, he found it interesting that Lady Peregrine had requested the introduction. That was a twist he hadn’t expected. Yet, it shouldn’t shock him; she was rather bold when she wanted to be. Fascinating, really.
“Already bored?” Henley asked while Gabriel mused to himself.
“In a London ballroom? Always. But I must admit, I couldn’t resist the temptation of watching Ramsford’s fall.”
“Ah, so that’s what dragged you out here? I should have known.”
“There’s little else that could entice me here, I assure you.” Gabriel scanned the room.
The footmen meandered with warm champagne, and the perimeter of the ballroom was a flood of pastel color as this season’s debutantes waited to be asked to dance. He gave a slight shiver.
“My Lord.” Lady Peregrine’s voice captured Gabriel’s attention from the lonely edges of the ballroom. “I didn’t expect to see you.” Her tone was cold, her eyes even chillier, even if her smile pretended to be warm.
Gabriel almost shivered.
But rather than serve to make him distance himself from her, he found it a challenge. “Ah, Lady Peregrine, a delight as always.”
Her eyebrow rose, a disbelieving expression in her eyes.
“Lord Hawthorne, Lord Allendale,” the nameless partner of Lady Peregrine greeted them, then took his leave.
“And which of your swains was that?” Gabriel asked, watching as her expression turned mutinous.
The ballroom just got a lot more interesting.
“Lord Merligh.”
“I believe he is a friend of Lord Woodbury; I think I remember him from Eton as well, but I can’t be sure,” Henley offered.
The next song began, a waltz, and Gabriel couldn’t resist a devilish grin as he offered his hand to Lady Peregrine. “Would you do me the honor?”
Her eyes narrowed, then flickered to her brother, then back to him. For a moment he wondered if she’d refuse him outright.
He wiggled his fingers.
She scowled but placed her hand in his. “Of course, my lord. I’d never imagine refusing you,” she said with a false sweetness.
Henley nodded at them as Gabriel led her onto the dance floor.
As Gabriel pulled her into the frame of the waltz and into the throng of dancers, he couldn’t suppress a small laugh.
“You might be smiling, but you’re not fooling me.
Tell me, have you thought about how you’ll verbally dismember me, or do you need another minute to collect your thoughts?
” He whispered the words, adding a velvet softness to his tone, wanting to draw her in against her will.
He was playing with fire and had never been more careless of the danger.
Lady Peregrine blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re speaking of.” She all but shrugged. “Dismemberment would be too kind,” she added lowly, a frightening grin lighting up her features.
“Ah, I wait with bated breath,” Gabriel remarked, arching a brow.
“You’ll have to keep waiting. In fact, why don’t you keep holding that bated breath; let’s see what happens? Might save me from needing an alibi.”
Gabriel couldn’t resist the chuckle that escaped.
He decided a change of subject was needed. “What did you say to Ramsford?”
“Ah, yes. You were spying, weren’t you? I saw you hiding behind a pillar like a child being disciplined.”
“Or like a gentleman who didn’t wish to intrude.”
Her expression was delightfully sarcastic.
“Well, what did you say? I’m quite curious. His expression was devastated, after the confusion passed. He never was the brilliant sort.”
“I’m not telling you,” Lady Peregrine replied, all but sticking her nose in the air.
“Why ever not?” Gabriel asked, frowning.
“Because it’s something you want, and I feel a deep satisfaction in denying you what you seek.”
“That’s rather vindictive of you.”
Her full lips split into a smile—a real one—a sight that was a punch to the gut as it hit him with full force.
He blinked for a moment, and she continued.
“Yes, how vindictive that I would set a boundary that you can’t cross, when you are so used to plowing over them in your attempt to teach others whatever moral—or rather, immoral—lesson you wish to articulate,” she finished.
“Yes, it’s vindictive when I use your wants against you, but it’s all fair game to use them against me,” she added, her expression confident.
Gabriel tipped his head. “I concede on this point. You win this round, Lady Peregrine.” He nodded.
She regarded him skeptically. “Why are you here tonight?” she asked.
“To watch you give Ramsford his comeuppance. It was a highlight.”
“I don’t think he gave as much weight to my words as he did Henley’s, but I’d rather do the same in his situation, so I cannot find fault.” She gave a small laugh. “Did you see how his face turned ghost white?” she asked, her expression dancing with mirth.
“I could see it from a ballroom away, Lady Peregrine. Well done. Regardless of whose words he took more seriously, you stood up for yourself, with poise and dignity and proved yourself.”
Lady Peregrine regarded him as the music ended. “Thank you. I think.”
“No, thank you is the proper sentiment when someone gives you a compliment.”
“Forgive me, I’m not used to receiving compliments from you.”
“Just lectures?”
“Among other things.” She gave him a flirtatious side-eye, and Gabriel almost lost his footing as he wound around a gentleman in conversation.
“Among other things indeed.” Gabriel recovered and paused before Henley. “I’ll take my leave.”
“Good evening, Lord Hawthorne,” Lady Peregrine replied, all flirtation missing from her expression.
“Allendale, Lady Peregrine.” Gabriel lifted the lady’s hand and kissed it, his body responding to her bloody hand like it was an intimate caress.
He needed to leave. Now.
Without a backward glance, he all but fled the room.
And as he rode home in his carriage, he considered that Lady Peregrine had terrified two gentlemen that evening. One who pretended to want her, the other who pretended he didn’t.
The sage gown haunted him—soft, defiant, unforgettable. Let her hunt Woodbury. Let her reform the world. He was done playing guardian angel.
Except the knot in his chest had twisted into something dangerously close to longing.