A Secret Love (42 page)

“However,” Chillingworth continued, “unless my ears deceive me, that's a country dance starting up. Might I beg the pleasure of your company?”

Alathea smiled. “I would be delighted.”

The dance was one that left them paired throughout. Chillingworth conversed easily on general topics. Alathea answered lightly, off the top of her head, her thoughts, as always, sliding back to Gabriel. She'd lost sight of him when the dance got under way; he was no longer where they'd left him. She wondered where he was, and what he was doing.

At the conclusion of the dance, she laid her hand on Chillingworth's sleeve. He led her from the floor, straight to Gabriel, who was waiting at the other end of the ballroom from where they'd parted.

Alathea resisted an urge to raise her eyes to the skies. Drawing her hand from Chillingworth's arm, she positioned herself between them, ready to jab an elbow into either of their ribs should they infringe her conversational standards.

Somewhat to her surprise, neither did. Chillingworth seemed careful, watchful. Gabriel was his usual arrogant self, the reality uncloaked given it was only Chillingworth, whom he patently regarded as an equal, with them. Then Amanda, escorted by Lord Rankin, joined them. A minute later, Amelia glided up on Lord Arkdale's arm.

“This is such a lovely ball, Lady Alathea.” Amanda beamed her delight. “I'm enjoying myself hugely.” The minx batted her long lashes at Rankin, who, all unknowingly, glowed.

“It's a crush—a positive crush,” Amelia chimed in. “There are so many here.” She smiled at Lord Arkdale. “Why, I've never had the chance to chat with Freddie here, before.”

“I hope,” Alathea cut in, preempting Gabriel, “that you're wise enough to take full advantage of the possibilities offered.”

“Oh, indeed,” Amanda assured her. “Our dance cards are full. We've danced every dance with a different gentleman.”

“And spent every interval with still different gentlemen,” Amelia added. Both girls softened the news of their deliberate inconstancy with a ravishing smile at their escorts. Neither gentleman was sure whether to preen or not.

“Incidentally, Gabriel, we haven't sighted Lucifer.”
Amanda fixed her angelic blue eyes on her cousin's face. “Is he here?”

“He was.”

“He must have discovered something terribly interesting. Or someone,” Amelia ingenuously announced.

“I saw Lady Scarsdale, and Mrs. Sweeney, too. She was wearing vermillion—a hideous shade. I don't think Lucifer would be with her, do you?”

“Perhaps he's with Lady Todd. I know she's here . . .”

The twins continued artlessly speculating on Lucifer's current obsession. Their escorts were totally bemused. Gabriel was not, but neither was he willing to deflect their attention. Alathea bit her lip, and let the twins have their revenge.

Under cover of the girls' bright chatter, Chillingworth touched Alathea's arm. Turning, she encountered a slightly rueful expression in the earl's eyes.

“I fear I'm going to desert you, my dear, and leave you captive to this bevy of Cynsters.”

Alathea smiled. “They are a riotous lot, but the twins, you see, are celebrating a family victory.”

For an instant, Chillingworth's eyes held hers, then his gaze flicked to Gabriel, presently exchanging barbs with Amanda. Chillingworth looked questioningly at Alathea. “Cynster, too, I think?”

Alathea didn't know what to think—and even less what to reply.

Chillingworth relieved her of the problem by bowing. “Your servant, my dear. If you ever find yourself in need of help, know you have only to ask.”

He then nodded elegantly and stepped away, disappearing into the crowd.

Puzzled, Alathea watched him go, then turned back to Gabriel and the twins.

The next dance was a waltz.

Without so much as a by-your-leave, Gabriel, his temper sorely tried by the twins, closed his hand about Alathea's and drew her onto the floor. His arm came around her, holding her close. Their gazes met.

She grinned, but said not a word. She relaxed, following his lead without conscious effort. Scanning the room as they twirled, she saw no indication of any problem; their ball was in full swing and all was well.

She was about to refocus on Gabriel's face when Lady Osbaldestone's flashed past. The gleeful expression in her ladyship's old eyes reminded Alathea of the approval of Lady Jersey, Princess Esterhazy, and the others. How many more had had their eyes opened tonight, their censorious minds alerted?

“This is dangerous—you and me.” She looked at Gabriel. “We're going to end as a high treat for the scandalmongers.”

“Nonsense. Who's been disapproving?”

No one.
Alathea pressed her lips together. After a moment, she said, “I'm too old. The entire ton is expecting you to marry—they won't approve of your marrying me.”

“Why not? It's not as if you're in your dotage, for heaven's sake.”

“I'm twenty-nine.”

“So? If that doesn't worry me, and you know damned well it doesn't, why should it concern anyone else?”

“Bachelors of thirty do not customarily marry spinsters of twenty-nine.”

“Probably because most spinsters of twenty-nine are that for good reason.” Gabriel caught her eye. “You're that for a completely different reason—a reason that is no longer valid. You've done what you needed to do—you've set your family back on their feet. You've held the fort until Charlie can take over, and trained him to do it.” His voice lowered. “Now it's time to let go and live the life you should have lived.
With me.
”

Alathea remained silent, not sure she could trust her voice.

He continued, “I haven't detected the slightest hint of disapproval—quite the opposite. The senior hostesses all knew your mother—they're thrilled at the thought of you marrying at last. Along with the rest of the ton, they've never understood why you didn't marry. To them, the notion of your marrying me is highly romantic.”

Alathea managed a sniff. After a minute, she risked a glance up.

Gabriel's gaze was gently ruthless. “They'll cheer the announcement, when you consent to let me make it.
They're
not standing in my way.”

Only she was
. Alathea looked away. There was, it seemed, to be no help from any quarter. She was swimming against a flood tide.

In the nearby card room, Devil Cynster, Duke of St. Ives, strolled up to the earl of Chillingworth, who was standing by a wall watching a hand of piquet.

“Amazing. I never thought to see you pull in your horns.” Devil glanced pointedly toward the ballroom. “I find it difficult to believe there are
no
possibilities in there. If you don't look quick, you'll be cold tonight. I, at least, have a warm bed to hie home to.”

Chillingworth looked amused. “And what makes you think I haven't? The only difference between you and me, dear boy, is that your bed will be the same tomorrow night, while mine has at least a chance of being different.”

“On the other hand, there's something to be said for consistently high standards.”

“At present, I'll settle for variety. That aside, to what do I owe this questionable pleasure?”

“Just checking on your current interest.”

“To make certain we don't cross bows? Pull the other one.”

Devil settled his shoulders against the wall. “Purely altruistic, on my part.”

Chillingworth hid a smile. “Altruistic? Tell me, is it me you're interested in keeping whole, or another more nearly related?” Devil studied the crowd in the ballroom through the arch directly before them. “Let's just say that I've no wish to see any misunderstanding cloud the otherwise congenial relationship between your family and mine.” Chillingworth said nothing for several minutes, also staring at the figures jostling in the ballroom. Then he shifted. “If I was to say that I have no intention of disrupting the harmony currently reigning between our houses, would you do me one favor?”

“What?”

“Don't tell Gabriel.”

Devil turned his head. “Why?”

His lips quirking wryly, Chillingworth pushed away from the wall. “Because it's entertaining watching him rise to my bait, and,” he murmured, just loud enough for Devil to hear as he moved away, “I consider that fitting consolation.”

T
heir ball had been held on Monday night. Alathea did not set eyes on Gabriel again until Wednesday. Ambling in the park behind his sisters and hers, closely escorted by Lord Esher and Mr. Carstairs, she was deep in disturbing thoughts of Crowley and the Central East Africa Gold Company when she heard her name called. Looking up, she saw the group ahead looking back at her. Heather Cynster pointed to the nearby carriageway—to where her brother held his team of restless bays, stamping impatiently. As she lengthened her stride, Alathea got the distinct impression that the horses were merely reflecting their master's state.

“Good morning.” Tipping her head up, she looked into his face, some way above her, courtesy of his high perch phaeton. The carriage held the interest of the girls and their beaux, leaving her to deal with its driver.

He beckoned. “Come up. I'll take you for a tool around the avenue.”

She smiled. “No, thank you.”

He stared at her.

The others had heard.

“Go on, Allie! You'll enjoy it.”

“We'll be safe enough.”

“It'll just be for a few minutes.”

“Carstairs and I will engage to watch over your charges in your stead, Lady Alathea.”

Alathea kept her gaze steady on Gabriel's face. “When last did you drive a lady in the park?”

He studied her for an instant longer, then his lips thinned. “Hold 'em, Biggs.” His groom leaped from the back and ran to the horses' heads. Gabriel tied off the reins and jumped down.

Without a word, he took her arm and waved the others on. Absorbed with their own concerns, the girls were happy to comply. By mutual accord, she and Gabriel waited until the group was far enough ahead so they could talk without being overheard, then set out in their wake.

“There's no reason you couldn't let me drive you about the park.”

“I have no intention of letting you declare your hand in such a public fashion.” She shot him a reproving glance. “I'm not going to be swayed by such manuevers.”

“More fool you. How did you know, anyway?”

“Your mama is always full of your doings—yours, Lucifer's, and the rest of your cousins. The fact that none of you drive ladies in the park—ladies other than your wives—is well known to all, I gather.”

Gabriel had been counting on it. “How does Gretna Green strike you? We could be there in two days.”

“At present, I have matters to deal with here. As soon as those matters are settled, I intend retiring to the country once again.”

“Don't wager your mother's pearls on it.”

“Humph! Anyway, what have you learned? I take it you got my note last night?”

“Yes, but not until this morning. Last night I was busy trying to prise information from certain African dignitaries.”

“What did they say?”

“Enough to unofficially confirm that at least four of Crowley's claims of governmental approvals and permissions are false. I'm working on turning unofficial into official, but no government bureacracy works quickly. We won't have any official support for our petition by the time we have to lodge it.”

“And when's that?”

“I would advise against waiting longer than next Tuesday.”

“That soon?”

“We can't risk Crowley calling in his notes, and I'd wager my bays he'll do it late next week.” Gabriel glanced at Alathea, then continued, “The petition's all but ready. Wiggs's clerk should have finished it—as far as we've gone—by tomorrow. Wiggs will bring it to me. If we have no more to add, with your permission, I'll ask my solicitor to make an appointment for Tuesday morning with one of the judges of the Chancery Court to submit our case. We don't dare wait longer—fighting a rearguard action once the promissory note is executed and the call on funds made will leave us in a considerably worse position legally.”

Alathea grimaced. “If that's how it must be . . .”

“I'll alert Devil, and Vane, too. He'll bring Gerrard up to town when he's needed.” His gaze on her face, her profile, Gabriel opened his mouth on the words: “Thea, it's a big risk,” but left them unsaid. If he had considered all the dangers and alternatives, she would have, too. There was no danger to her—he would marry her in an instant, and rescue both her and her family from penury—she knew that without his stating it. But what of Morwellan Park, and the title, the long unbroken line of Morwellans stretching back through time? What of her family's pride? That was what she'd set out from the first to protect, and it wasn't something that could be rescued other than by risking all.