Chapter Sixteen
Gabriel had never been much of a reader, but he had passed these last two days mainly before the fire, chuckling and often turning the pages with a desperate need to see what would happen next.
He’d had his footman hunt down copies of all Caroline’s books under C.D. Winthrop’s name, even going directly to her publisher for a few titles. He had only meant to peruse them a bit. See what he thought, learn how her mind worked, admire her gumption, and then put them away. But he’d found himself totally enthralled by the stories themselves.
Yes, they were a bit bombastic in places, and no, Caroline did not know how to properly keep a horse-drawn carriage from tumbling over a cliff in Cornwall. But to be fair, most people didn’t know that. Gabriel’s youth had been very adventurous.
He’d sent her the asparagus as a joke, but the sending of one bouquet per book quickly became a habit. He’d kept the florist quite busy over the last few days, delivering a veritable garden of flowers to the door of Devereux House.
There were pansies for the heroine’s name in The Screaming Vampire of Whitewood Abbey , then apple blossoms for a particularly well-written chase scene through an orchard in The Creeping Terror of Bainbridge Hall . Gabriel had been informed by the bookseller that “Mr. Winthrop” should have a new pamphlet coming out soon. Gabriel had eagerly asked that one be set aside for him.
Caroline had been the entire focus of his thoughts these last few days.
If he wasn’t reading her stories, he was thinking of her as she’d been writing them.
He liked to imagine her bent at her desk, scribbling away feverishly by candlelight. The idea of her bent over across a desk, that enticing body of hers ripe for exploration, only spurred him on. For the first time in his life, the heat and spice of lust merged with admiration, and it was the most addictive combination he’d ever imagined.
Seeing Caroline again had become a reward in and of itself. He wanted to finish all her work and then, only then would he see her.
He wanted to tell her that she was brilliant, that she was interesting, that she was funny, that she was gorgeous, that she had a core of steel and a heart of gold, and that he was absolutely, recklessly, deliriously falling in love with her.
The subject of blackmail rarely crossed his mind these days.
Yes, he and Caroline had begun in a rather unorthodox manner, but so what?
Eleanor of Aquitaine was already bloody married when she met Henry II; in comparison, the future Rockford-Devereux alliance had begun with all temperance and restraint. Gabriel no longer cared that the girl had taken advantage of him. In fact, he was rather grateful she’d taken the trouble. It seemed his bliss would be never-ending.
Until the day that it ended.
It ended practically the instant he’d finished Caroline’s last pamphlet.
Indeed, no sooner had Gabriel closed the cover than his butler entered with the worst possible news outside of war or an embargo on French cognac.
“Her Ladyship has arrived, my lord.”
“Which Ladyship?” Gabriel had been stunned. “Wait. The Ladyship? As in the dowager Countess of Rockford? As in my mother?”
“That would be the one, sir.”
“I thought she hated London during the Season.”
“Nevertheless, my lord, Her Ladyship has arrived and wishes to see you at once.”
Gabriel’s good cheer vanished immediately. He realized there could be only one solid reason she’d come to town.
“Whyever did I write to her about the bloody blackmail?” he growled.
Gabriel’s mother had come to do something about Caroline. Once the dowager had it in mind to do something, it would get done with the greatest possible speed and decorum.
Inwardly groaning, kicking himself for not having kept all this to himself, Gabriel went to meet her. She was seated in the morning room, sitting with a statue’s poise and coldness as her son entered and bowed to her.
“Mother. Good to see you.”
“I’m sorry I’ve had to come under such circumstances,” she replied.
Gabriel had never been especially close with his mother, but he respected her a great deal. That respect had a healthy dollop of fear on top of it, for Eugenia, Dowager Countess of Rockford, was and always had been a great lady in every sense of the word.
She was the sort of woman who commanded every eye when she entered a room, who oversaw all about her with a calmness and detachment that was almost inhuman.
Gabriel knew full well that his mother had been the sole reason their family hadn’t fallen into total disgrace during his father’s debauched time as the earl. No matter how her husband embarrassed and insulted her, Lady Rockford had borne it with elegance and style, and such a charming ease that one could believe nothing terrible was happening at all.
Now rapidly approaching the age of sixty, her fabled, sharp-featured beauty had softened a touch, and there was more gray than russet in her hair. But the dowager still dressed in the most impeccable and appropriate fashion, and her steely resolve still drew admiration from all who laid eyes on her.
Gabriel was certain his mother was going to eat Caroline Devereux alive. He had to put a stop to that at once.
“I can guess why you’ve come to town, Mother.” He sat across from her. “I’m only surprised you didn’t write to let me know you were coming.”
“I thought under the circumstances you would relish the opportunity to accept my help.” The dowager took up a teacup and sipped, her face of neutral disdain never altering once. “We must stand together against this young harlot, mustn’t we?”
“You shouldn’t call Miss Devereux that.” His words and tone were too strident, and he could tell his mother noticed. Damn. Gabriel softened his approach. “I’ve gotten to know her better since last I wrote to you. She’s a great deal to recommend her.”
“How delightful. If she were not threatening to drag your, and by extension, my name through the sludge of London’s worst gossip, I would like to meet her.”
“I think my dear father is more to blame in that department than Miss Devereux is,” Gabriel muttered.
“Yes, but your father merely wrote that letter. This Miss Devereux is threatening to use it against us.”
Yes, that blasted letter. Gabriel had heard nothing from Simon. Well, the lad was only eight. Likely he’d forgotten the game as soon as Gabriel had left the room. Perhaps enlisting a child into his schemes had not been Gabriel’s most brilliant idea.
“Caroline has done none of this maliciously. I think you’ll have more sympathy for her if you spent time talking. You of all women should know how brutally unfair London can be on a lady.”
“Indeed.” His mother pursed her lips, tightening the line of her mouth. She looked as if she were puckering up after biting a lemon. “Though unlike this Miss Devereux, I never resorted to the most unladylike behavior possible.”
Gabriel had the good taste not to snort. “Come, Mother. We would not be in this situation today if you hadn’t betrayed old Rockford.”
“I beg your pardon?” Her cheeks darkened; her eyes widened by a fraction of an inch; he’d never seen such violent emotion out of her. She was not the most demonstrative of women.
“The rumors have echoed through Havenlock Hall for years. You and that groundskeeper, what was his name? Marley?”
“Morley,” she replied.
For an instant, it was like a fleeting glimpse of the sun coming out upon a rainy day.
There was the slight softening of his mother’s eyes, the wistful gaze off into some better, happier past. No sooner had light appeared in the chink of her armor than it vanished. She looked poised and closed off again.
“I admit there was a flirtation between us. I even admit that once, on a pathway through the woods, he might have kissed me.” She cleared her throat and studied her gloved hands. “And I admit only that. I broke from him and asked that nothing more happen between us, and he respected my wishes. Nothing further occurred.”
“Mother, do be serious.” Gabriel leaned forward and spoke low. “There’s no one else here. I look nothing like old Rockford, do I?”
“No, and you don’t take after my side, either. It’s true. But neither do you look like Morley. I’m a bit mystified that you can sit here and act as though I am lying to you! Perhaps you think that everyone is as happy to shrug off their duty in this world as your father was, but I assure you I’m made of different stuff.”
Gabriel knew that the woman liked to keep her composure.
She liked the image she’d fixed of herself, the perfect woman of society, the ideal wife, the appropriate mother. Then again, she was also rather bad at lying in his experience.
He’d always been able to tell, for example, that she meant it when she told Philip she loved him. Her elder son had found real favor in her eyes. It was the younger to whom she’d had to lie when saying, “I love you.” A pitiable state, that.
She had never been able to lie to him, and right now she seemed to be telling the absolute truth. Believing that he could not be a bastard, that he was indeed the Earl of Rockford, should have given him relief. And it did, but Gabriel almost hated the confirmation that he and the old earl had indeed shared blood. Either way, his true parentage was not the most pressing matter.
“All right. Perhaps what you say is true. Perhaps you and this groundskeeper merely felt drawn to each other but never crossed the line of propriety. But you often told me growing up that the truth does not matter as much as appearances. The fact is that the possibility of that letter getting out, written in the old Earl of Rockford’s hand, is still a menace to our peace of mind and potentially even our standing in society. You know I don’t care for that stuff, but I know it’s something you value. Shouldn’t we want to be as safe from this scandal as possible?”
“That your father should have written such an obscene letter in the first place, why, it baffles me eternally.” The older woman narrowed her eyes. “And you’ve seen this letter yourself? You know of its existence.”
“I have no doubt that it is very real,” Gabriel said. He decided to leave Caroline’s impressive talent for memorization out of this conversation.
“How do we even know she’ll give it back?”
“Well, once she’s Countess of Rockford, she’s unlikely to want to sabotage herself, wouldn’t you agree?” Gabriel knew this conversation would continue meandering nowhere useful. He stood and bowed respectfully to his mother again. “Now if there’s nothing more you require, I’m off. I have an appointment to keep.”
“It’s not with that odious Devereux girl, is it?” The dowager looked pained. “Can’t you at least avoid giving her the attention she clearly craves?”
“She doesn’t crave it. And when she’s officially engaged to me as the future Countess of Rockford, you’ll need to be civil to her. So begin practicing now.”
His mother looked as if she’d never seen him before. “Tell me something, Gabriel. Is it possible you don’t object to a union with this common criminal? Has she seduced you so entirely?”
She had seduced him entirely, though not in the way any woman had before.
Caroline’s earnestness and passion had stirred him, not simply her lips and eyes and the sumptuous promise of her body that he felt when he held her. But the question did linger: was he all right with how she’d managed to attain him?
Gabriel decided not to worry about that.
“I shall be home for dinner. We can talk more then,” he told his mother.
With that, he took his leave of her. At least she did not harp after him.
Gabriel prepared himself for the afternoon, adjusting his hat and his gloves, letting Smith help him into his coat, and taking up the final floral offering he would bring to Caroline. It would be the last bouquet for the last story. Until he’d read her next pamphlet, that is.
The butler at Devereux House immediately bowed and let the earl through to the drawing room.
“May I take your plant, sir?” The butler eyed the rather splendid, fragile-looking creation in its china pot.
It was a moon-white orchid with a blush of pink at the center and had cost more than the whole of his other hothouse acquisitions combined.
“I’d like to give it to Miss Devereux myself.” Gabriel allowed the butler to place the orchid upon a table and then go fetch his young mistress.
As he sat and waited, Gabriel thought over and over about his mother’s words. Her disdain for Caroline and her question continued to vex him.
Had he entirely become enchanted with the girl? Or had he made the best of a bad situation?
When the parlor door opened, Gabriel turned to greet Caroline but came face to face with another Devereux instead.
“Well, hello, Simon.” The earl smiled at the little boy. “How’ve you been keeping?”
“Fine, your Lordship!” Simon hurried over. His cheeks were bright with energy, and he lowered his voice as he came up to Gabriel. “Look! Look here, I won the game.”
Gabriel almost forgot how to speak when the child slipped an envelope from out his pocket. He’d had to fold the thing in half, but that was no bother.
Gabriel hurried, taking the sheet of paper out and reading it. Instantly he knew that they had struck pure blackmail gold.
There was his father’s spiky handwriting; there was the opening of Devereux! followed by the exact words Caroline had already spoken to him before. Gabriel got to appreciate the old earl’s unfailing sense of crudeness in relation to his wife and younger son.
At least Philip has the look of me, but that little bastard brother of his. Born on the wrong side of the blanket, ha! Born to the wrong species, if you ask me, what with his mother being a real bitch. You remember that groundskeeper I had to let go, Marley or something?
Gabriel would gain nothing more from reading this. He folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope.
He now had all the proof of the late earl’s suspicions.
All Gabriel had to do was walk out the door to Devereux House right now, go home, and burn this letter in the hearth. All his problems would be ended. His entanglement with Caroline could be stopped here and now.
“I won, so I must claim my reward.” Simon grinned cheekily as he held out his little hand. Gabriel hesitated a moment, considering very carefully.
Caroline’s power was ended. He just had to pay this child and walk away. Gabriel knew what to do at once.
“Here. A deal is a deal.” The earl took a shiny sovereign out of his pocket and placed it in the little boy’s waiting palm.
“Thank you, my lord.” Gleeful, the child began to scamper off.
“Wait. There’s another sovereign for you if you do one more thing for me.” Gabriel folded the envelope and pushed it back into the little boy’s pocket. “Take that right back to where you found it and hide it again.”
“Really? You don’t want it?” The boy seemed amazed.
I know what I want. It’s now utterly clear to me.
“I got exactly what I needed, Simon. Thank you. Here.” He took out another coin and gave it over. “This was a great deal of fun.”
“I think I enjoyed it more than you!” The boy’s eyes were as round and bright as the coins themselves. “I’m going to buy ever so many boiled sweets.”
The child raced away, almost colliding with his elder sister as she came in the door.
Gabriel stood at once, that sublime feeling of energy coming over him when he saw her. It didn’t matter if she were spotless or ink-stained, happy or annoyed, he felt better when he got a glimpse of her.
“Do watch where you’re going, Simon.” Caroline patted the boy’s head and made her curtsy to Gabriel. “Hello, Lord Rockford. Thank you for my flowers these past few days. My room now looks a veritable hothouse.”
Gabriel took up the orchid and brought it over. Caroline gasped in awe at the slender, curling beauty of the plant.
“How exquisite,” she murmured.
Yes, Gabriel thought as he studied her face. He was hers entirely, though she did not know it yet. Exquisite is the perfect word.