Chapter Nineteen #2
“I sincerely hope she is not enceinte,” Gabriel said, meaning it.
There were already one or two small children about the Wentworth estate who somewhat resembled his brother.
Maybe Ambrose was aiming for a cricket team.
“I hope Mrs. Jackson doesn’t share your suspicions or poor Ellen will be out on her ear without a reference.
” And her child could end up being a candidate for entry to his orphanage if Ellen fell on hard times.
Mrs. Watts, tutting to herself in disapproval, but who probably hadn’t passed on her misgivings to the housekeeper, pushed the large cast iron kettle onto the hot plate and fetched the teapot from a shelf.
“You’ll be wanting tea then, I expect? And something to eat? I’ve never known you not hungry.”
Gabriel sat down. “Tea would be lovely, dear Mrs. Watts, but for once I’m not hungry at all.” Was that because of the turmoil in his stomach every time he thought of Phoebe or was he just still full of bread and jam? He had a feeling Phoebe was the one responsible.
He’d push her out of his mind for half an hour or so and listen to Mrs. Watts’s gossip and maybe his appetite would return. It never ceased to amaze him how much more servants knew than their masters.
*
A full hour later, and after several cups of tea, Gabriel was running lightly up the main staircase when Ambrose, dressed in the epitome of elegance and good taste, appeared on the first-floor landing and caught him.
He was used to seeing Gabriel in the apparel of a working man, and no surprise registered on his darkly handsome face.
He and Gabriel were as unalike as two brothers could be, for reasons only Gabriel knew, but they’d been firm friends since childhood, as Ambrose had taken to having a baby brother with gusto.
And Gabriel adored his older brother even though he disapproved of his rather rakish lifestyle.
It was all part and parcel of what made him Ambrose.
Not that his brother would have condoned his own life choices.
Burglary was not something most gentlemen undertook as a sideline.
“Gabriel.” Ambrose smiled in greeting. “I was just coming looking for you. I’ve procured us both an invitation to Lady Radnor’s ball on Friday night.
” He leaned closer and sniffed. “I must say you take realism a little too far, my boy. You need a bath before you do anything else.” He put his mouth to Gabriel’s ear.
“I particularly wanted to go because Dora will be in attendance.” He kept his voice suspiciously low, probably because Dora was his mistress, the widow of the Earl of Matcham.
Although why he needed to do that with Isabel miles away at Wentworth, Gabriel had no idea.
Ambrose retreated a step and threw a meaningful glance towards Gabriel’s right arm, where his hand was still tucked into the front of his shabby waistcoat.
“Will you be able to attend? Like that? Although, I’m assuming that as you’ve been up to your old tricks today it isn’t troubling you too much.
” He grinned. “I do have to say that with your face bruised like that, you rather resemble a pirate. The ladies will love you if you can think of a more romantic story about how you came by your injuries other than a fall from your horse. Makes you look a little silly. I should tell them you fought off footpads with your bare hands, if I were you. They’ll be fawning upon you if you do. Ladies love a pugilist.”
Gabriel mounted the last few steps to bring him level with Ambrose. He was an inch or so taller than his brother, and of a lighter build. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ll think about it. But since when do you need me to hold your hand? You don’t require me to go with you, surely?”
Ambrose, looking slightly furtive, moved closer again. “I’m afraid I do. Isabel is here.”
That explained his muttered conversation.
Gabriel glanced up and down the landing out of instinct, but no one was in view and all the doors were firmly closed. “Here? Where precisely?” He kept his voice down, too, well aware of the horrors Ambrose’s wife could bring.
Ambrose nodded glumly. “Turned up not an hour ago. Looking like she’s swallowed the elephant from the Exeter ’change.
I said was she sure such a journey had been wise, but she gave me one of her looks, so I shut up.
She’s taking a nap, or so she said. Probably got her ear to the door. ” This last was a mere whisper.
Gabriel took another look along the landing towards the door he knew she’d be behind and nodded. “Bad luck, old fellow.”
Isabel was not his favorite person. Indeed, she was not anyone’s favorite person.
Why Ambrose had married her he couldn’t quite fathom, although it might have been something to do with the fact that she was her father’s only surviving child and heir to a substantial fortune.
Which made him think of Phoebe again, and her fortune, and brought heat to his cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” Ambrose, from whom it was difficult to keep a secret, asked.
“And while we’re talking, shall we go to your room to continue our conversation?
Less chance of being overheard, and in case Isabel suddenly appears from nowhere and spots you dressed like this.
She’d have a fit and think we’d been invaded by a shabbaroon.
Come on. And don’t think you can avoid telling me what’s troubling you, because you can’t. ”
Gabriel’s room was at the back of the house, as far away from the room where Isabel was supposedly napping as possible.
Ambrose closed the door and sat down hard on the window seat.
“Well? I always know when you’re troubled by something.
Spit it out, little brother.” His voice had returned to a more normal level this far from his wife.
Gabriel threw his old hat down on the bed and shrugged himself out of the coat and waistcoat, a somewhat difficult undertaking with only one useful arm.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, undercover of keeping himself busy.
He bent to unlace his disreputable boots, also difficult one-handed.
“I might ask you to send Elliott up to assist me in my ablutions. Only having one working arm and hand is very trying.”
Ambrose’s lip curled, but he didn’t budge.
“You look most genuine. If I passed you in the street I might not recognize you. Your skills of disguise have improved since last I was on the town with you. It’s only the fact that I encountered you on the stairs that made me know you, or it would have been me shouting out about shabbaroons in the house. ”
Gabriel kept on loosening his laces. “Thank you. I take that as flattery.” He rubbed his bristly chin.
“A lot of the trick of it has to do with the hat and my being unshaven. No one expects to see a gentleman dressed like this—no one looks at the faces of the poor, do they? So no one is likely to even give me a second glance. You might well not even notice me on the street, I can assure you.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Ambrose said. “Tell me everything. Where’ve you been, for a start.”
“Oh, just exploring with a friend. You know how I like to go unnoticed.”
“And your friend was in disguise as well?”
Gabriel nodded. He had at least kept his own stockings on under the boots, but as he fancied a bath, he pulled these off too.
“I’m going to ring for a bath now, if you don’t mind.
So you can go and accept those invitations for both of us.
I’m sure Lady Radnor will be delighted.” He slid his braces off his shoulders and untucked his shirt.
“Do you think Isabel will want to go with you? Think what fun it would be to have both her and Lady Matcham in the same room fighting over you. Knowing your luck, Isabel will pop your heir out on the ballroom floor.”
Ambrose sighed. “Isabel wouldn’t fight over me.
She’d just despise me more. If I’d known how she was going to turn out, I’d never have married her.
You beware, little brother, because women who are after you in marriage are very good at hiding what they’re really like.
You mark my words. Once they have a ring on their finger they change completely.
The sweet little thing you fancied yourself in love with turns overnight into the nagging harridan who doesn’t want you to have any fun. ” His face was the picture of gloom.
Gabriel, now standing in just his disreputable trousers and loose shirt, tugged on the bell rope with his good hand.
The effect of the laudanum was wearing off and his bed was looking more and more comfortable, but not while he was dirty.
“I’m getting undressed now for my bath. So you’ll have to leave.
I suggest you go and pretend to Isabel that you have sympathy for her condition and that she shouldn’t come to the Radnor’s ball for fear of her health being damaged. ”
Ambrose gave a shudder but moved to the door. “You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you.”
Drat the man, he was like a terrier with a rat. But Gabriel was experienced in dodging his brother’s questions. He had plenty to distract him with. “And you’d better hope Isabel doesn’t spot little Ellen the kitchen maid vomiting first thing in the mornings.”
He’d hit the mark there. Ambrose’s face flushed with hot color.
“Thought so,” Gabriel said, with a grin. “There goes another one.”
With an annoyed harrumph, Ambrose departed, his inquisition forgotten.