Chapter Twelve #2
“Ah, but that is where you are mistaken. I was just as easily forgotten,” Gabriel spoke, revealing a little too much truth than he had planned.
The admission slipped out, raw and unguarded, a crack in his rakish armor that left him exposed to her scrutiny.
Lady Peregrine paused, regarding him. “That … is why I decided I do not want to reform a rake.” She sighed. “There is nothing romantic about … whatever that is.” She waved her hand about as if not certain a lady should name anything further.
Gabriel nodded. “I applaud your decision. Though I would…” He paused, conflicted on if he should continue with what he almost divulged.
His tongue was loose this evening; he needed to be more cautious. Hope had acted like whisky, the tight control he held over his tongue becoming less filtered.
“Yes?” She regarded him, her eyes searching his, as if attempting to lift the thoughts directly from the vault of his mind.
“I would say your efforts weren’t all in vain,” he answered, waiting to see how she’d interpret his veiled confession.
Her lips twisted, an expression he’d come to expect from her when deep in thought. It was endearing, and he smiled to himself as she gave him a wry expression. “I’m not counting Ramsford.”
“Good, you shouldn’t,” Gabriel retorted. Then decided to change the subject. “I hear your brother is returning, the eldest. I find I’m curious as to your thoughts on that subject.”
“Is that why you asked me to take a turn? Henley cannot keep a secret. He teases Anna about her inability to keep them, but he is no better. He might be worse.” She sighed.
Her exasperation was laced with affection, a sister’s fond irritation that made her all the more human, all the more captivating.
“Thank you for your concern, and for asking, but it’s of no consequence.
Edwin all but ignored me before, and I don’t expect that to change upon his return.
Henley will still take responsibility for all things, and Edwin will …
hopefully be older and wiser, but I cannot make that promise.
” She let out a long breath. “It’s my mother who—” She paused, then shook her head. “Never mind.”
“No, continue. I wish to know, if you’re willing to share,” Gabriel remarked, leading them into another circle around the ballroom. The music swirled around them, a lilting melody that seemed to echo the rhythm of his heart, urging him to draw closer to her secrets.
Pere looked to him then, as if studying his expression for sincerity.
Apparently reading what she was looking for, she continued.
“She’s … acting strange. I don’t know. And I know it probably doesn’t make sense, but she’s …
aware and not. She listens, but it’s like she hears what she wants and only will focus on the topics she finds interesting.
It was … difficult.” She paused then, and Gabriel sensed she had more to tell him but was questioning if she could continue.
“Does she still favor Edwin?” he asked, testing the waters.
Last year, he was privy to enough of the scandal to know the blatant favoritism Lady Devon had for her elder son, the one who had originally pursued Lady Anna, till the truth regarding his involvement in destroying Henley’s reputation came to light.
What a sordid mess that had been, and the catalyst for Edwin escaping to the Continent.
“Was it that obvious?” Lady Peregrine frowned, glancing to him before looking down to the polished floor.
“Yes.”
“Delightful.”
“Not the word I’d use.”
“Be that as it may, it was just … painful. Because she had Edwin’s letters all but memorized, but didn’t once ask about…”
“You,” Gabriel finished.
“Yes.” She regarded him, her eyes reflections of her hurt but also a strength that told him she wasn’t overcome.
Her resilience, that blend of vulnerability and defiance, struck him like a blow, making him ache to shield her from such wounds.
The music of the waltz began, and Gabriel led them toward the dance floor.
“I believe the only thing to do about it … is dance.” He smiled at her then, not the charming grin he used to deflect or seduce, but a real smile that echoed his soul.
Lady Peregrine studied him for a moment, her eyes searching his, and a small smile started in her expression and then found its way to her lips. “Dancing fixes everything,” she said with slight sarcasm.
Her tone was light, but the quiver in her voice betrayed a deeper longing, a wish to escape the pain of her mother’s neglect.
“Everything.” He led her into the swirling dancers. Then he had a brilliant idea. He arched a brow. “You know, once you told me that my talents were best displayed at Drury Lane. I believe it was meant to be an insult—”
“It was, but I was quite vexed, so I apologize—”
“No need. However, Kean is performing this week, and I have a lovely box seat … should you be interested in attending with me.” He watched as her expression shifted to curiosity, then hesitancy. “Henley and Lady Anna are of course invited too,” he added.
His voice softened, a rare sincerity breaking through, as if the invitation was not just to the theater but to a moment of shared refuge.
Lady Peregrine’s answering smile melted the tension around his mind.
“That sounds delightful and a much-appreciated distraction,” she answered. “It’s been an age since I’ve been to the theater. I don’t know why.”
“It’s my pleasure to offer an opportunity. I’ll speak with your brother, and we’ll sort out the details.”
Lady Peregrine regarded him for a long moment, then nodded. “Thank you. Not just for the theater … for tonight. You … I’ve not been fair to your character, my lord, and tonight you proved me wrong, and for that I’m thankful.”
“Thank you … I think,” he teased, flirting actually, as his smile broadened when she all but rolled her eyes in exasperation.
Her mock irritation was a spark to kindling, igniting a warmth in his chest that he dared not name. How he delighted in vexing her.
“Your reputation precedes you in much, but what people don’t know about you is the depth of character you can display, when so inclined, and I thank you for sharing that with me,” she finished, offering a tentative smile.
Gabriel nodded once, then as the music came to a close and he started in the direction where Henley waited, he whispered softly, “Thank you for noticing.” His voice was barely audible, a confession meant only for her, a crack in the armor he’d worn for so long.
Because it was easy to hide behind the facade.
But it was rare to find a person who he wanted to see him, the real him. And who would give the effort to actually look beyond and find his heart.
He released her with reluctance, the ghost of her warmth lingering on his palm like a brand.
As she walked away, her emerald skirts whispering secrets to the floor, Gabriel stood rooted.
The ballroom spun on without him—laughter, champagne, ambition—but for the first time, none of it mattered.
She had seen him. And in seeing, had rewritten the rules of his carefully guarded world.