One Rogue Too Many (3 page)

“I’m still waiting for an answer,” he said at last. “Do you look forward to dancing with Thorne?”

Her chin lifted. He hadn’t answered her question either. “As Drew said, I’m here to dance.”

“And do you have a spot on your dance card for me?”

In her first Season, there wouldn’t have been an unclaimed dance, but she was no longer the most-sought-after debutante. There were prettier, younger ladies on the marriage mart now, and they were more willing to play the ridiculous games involved with collecting many suitors.

She gripped her card, tempted to lie. He owed her answers, but one touch from him and she feared she’d forgive and forget with no effort on his part.

“Let me dance with you, Lady Bug.” His voice caressed her injured pride.

She sighed and reluctantly passed her card to him. He scribbled his name and returned it without blinking. She glanced down to see he had claimed the empty slot before Lord Thorne and laughter bubbled up inside her. “The quadrille?”

He had always complained about dance lessons when he was a boy, and in truth, he had never been good on the ballroom floor. She had found that out the hard way when he had volunteered to practice with her when she first began lessons herself.

His lips inched up and a spark of warmth lit his blue eyes. “It will be like old times.”

“I certainly hope not. You were abysmal.”

He laughed, melting the last of her resistance. Drat, but she was hopeless when it came to him.

“I have missed your directness, Lady Gabrielle.”

“How kind of you to say so, my lord.” She refused to admit she had missed anything about him. He already held the upper hand.

When it was time to take position on the dance floor, Anthony offered his hand. His intense study of her made her flush again and her legs tremble. “Your brother needn’t fret about me keeping close watch. I can’t take my eyes off you.”

Two

Anthony was certain of Thorne’s intentions, but his boldness surprised Anthony. Gabby’s brothers were known for their fierce protectiveness and skill with blades and pistols. What he didn’t understand was Gabby’s defense of Thorne, and he wanted to know where her mind was, but the quadrille required most of his attention to avoid colliding with the other dancers. He’d forgotten how blasted fast the steps were. Gabby twirled with him for half a breath, then skipped away to her corner.

Questioning her on the dance floor had been a bad plan. Even if he could manage more than a word or two with her before being dragged away by the overzealous Lady Marwick, there was no privacy on the crowded floor. He could barely cavort without treading on the ladies’ skirts.

What was it ladies did not understand about men and frolicking? Men were not built to be graceful. At least he’d never been.

When he and Gabby finally came together, they sashayed around the circle, following the other couples. With her at his side, his suspicions faded. She would never betray him as his wife had. Gabby’s heart was too pure.

Thorne stood on the sidelines, his scowl a flash as they passed him. Anthony’s irritation flared to life again. He may trust Gabby, but he didn’t trust Thorne. Or Gabby’s ability to ward off the baron’s advances. Thorne could charm even the dourest matrons, making them blush like schoolgirls. Anthony should know, since he’d lost that particular bet. Gabby’s innocence would make her an easy target for a man like Thorne.

“How could you have allowed Lord Thorne to take you for a carriage ride this afternoon?”

She gasped and missed a step, but recovered quickly. “Were you spying on me?”

“No!”

They faced each other and turned a circle. She glowered the whole time. “How long have you been in Town?”

“As I said, not long.”

“Just long enough to see me in Hyde Park.”

The dance required them to switch partners before he could correct her assumption. Lady Marwick snatched his hands and swung around in a wide circle, her head tossed back with a gleeful laugh. He’d never seen anyone dance with such abandon. It was no wonder Lord Marwick usually hid in the card room.

When Anthony and Gabby came back together, he started to explain he hadn’t seen her in the park, but she was too quick.

“Obviously, you have been back long enough to have sent me word.”

“I sent word to your brother.”

Behind her gray eyes, a storm was brewing. Experience had taught him to keep his mouth closed when she was in a temper. Her anger would blow over soon enough and he could speak reasonably with her again.

“I had expected you to be eager to see me after four months apart. I see our separation has been easier on you.”

That was unfair. Not to mention untrue. “I came as soon as I could. And I did miss—”

The last strains of the quadrille faded and he swallowed his response. It wouldn’t do for everyone at the Chattingtons’ party to be privy to their affairs. He escorted Gabby from the floor and led her through the promenade.

“It wasn’t easy on me, love,” he murmured. “I’ll call on you tomorrow and set everything to rights. I promise.”

She drew to a halt, her mouth falling open. “Is that what this is about? You feel there is a wrong to make right?”

“No!” He urged her to a quiet corner. “This isn’t the place or time for this discussion.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

Damnation!
They were drawing enough attention with their sudden exit from the dance floor. If anyone suspected what had happened between them, her reputation would be ruined. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to her. “People are looking our way.”

She dabbed at her eyes before forcing a detached smile for their audience. “Please, tell me the truth now and spare me a restless night. Why didn’t you come back when you said you would?”

“I had no choice,” he said under his breath.

“Why not? What business kept you away?” Her voice was beginning to rise again.

Across the room, Lady Ibberton whispered something to their hostess and Lady Chattington tossed a curious look over her shoulder. Two ladies joined their group, not bothering to hide their stares.

“This isn’t the place, Gabby. Please, just trust me. We can discuss it tomorrow.”

“You’re avoiding me once again. Why am I not surprised?”

Her bottom lip quivered and he longed to pull her into his embrace. Instead, he covered her hand resting on his forearm and gave it a small, reassuring pat.

He should have foreseen how his absence would hurt her. Gabby would have needed more reassurance of his feelings while she awaited his return, especially since the loss of her father. Had Anthony not been scouring the countryside of Wales in search of his missing daughter, he could have written. He also would have been home long before now and gained her brother’s permission to marry her. Yet he couldn’t explain the reason he was delayed without going into the entire tale, and there were facts he never wanted the
ton
to know about his daughter.

He leaned close to whisper in Gabby’s ear, her floral perfume bringing back their last moment alone together. She had possessed him that day in his study, and he’d lost all sense of right or wrong. He’d had no claim to her, but he had nearly taken everything she trustingly offered.

“Everything will be better tomorrow, I swear it,” he murmured.

He hesitated to release her, but she jerked away. “You must think me the biggest fool in London.”

She stormed off, likely unaware of how enticingly her derriere bounced with each angry step. It was enough to make him want to keep her in a fit of pique.

***

Gabby slipped behind a pillar and sank against it. Her breath came fast and hard; her hands shook. She needed a moment to gather her wits before she danced with Lord Thorne, but the baron was already weaving through the crowd, headed in her direction.

Thorne’s brown eyes glittered in the candlelight, and a grin that should have her swooning, as it did with every other lady he turned it on, slowed her racing heart. She never felt out of control with Lord Thorne.

“Here you are, my lady. Hiding from Ellis, I take it?” He held his arm out to her, his smile expanding. “Not that I blame you. The man is a terrible bore.”

She hesitated before linking arms with him. “I wasn’t hiding. I simply needed a moment to catch my breath.”

He led her to the dance floor and they took position for the waltz. His palm against her upper back was soothing and tension flowed from her on a slow exhale.
This
was
what
she
needed
in
her
life.

Serenity.

Control over her feelings and control over her behavior. With Thorne, the wild creature lurking inside her never reared its head to make her behave like a lunatic. He was good for her, but like it or not, she was forever bound to Anthony.

A violin began its romantic call, and the baron swept her backward. As they circled the ballroom floor, she noted the looks of longing some of the debutantes aimed his way.

She studied Thorne with a detached air. He was quite stunning, with his high cheekbones and a straight nose. He hadn’t been saddled with the unfortunate features associated with many members of the nobility, but he wasn’t of noble birth, was he? His father had been granted a title with a letter’s patent for his service to the King. His family was only one generation from being unacceptable in the eyes of the
haut
ton.

Not that she cared a whit about his lineage. Her mother was of Italian descent and far from aristocratic.

Thorne lifted an eyebrow. “I often wonder what it is you are thinking when that tiny line appears on your forehead.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. He might mistake her meaning if she admitted she had been contemplating his family. “Lord Ellis isn’t a bore, at least not always.”

Thorne’s muscles twitched beneath her fingertips, but his lighthearted expression didn’t alter. “Now I’m sorry I asked what was on your mind.”

“I wasn’t thinking of him until this moment.” That wasn’t a complete lie. “I feel obligated to defend him since he is an old family friend.”

The baron’s dark gaze seemed capable of seeing into her mind. “Is that all he is?”

Her lips parted, and she bit down on her lower lip. She didn’t know what Anthony was to her anymore. His promise to set things to rights fed her fears that he was following a sense of duty rather than his heart.

Thorne frowned. “Please, don’t answer. Just know this, Lady Gabrielle. I don’t intend to step aside and allow him to win your hand without opposition.”

“What is that to mean?” Did he think she was a prize to be won in a competition? That she had no say in which gentleman she married?

He pulled her closer, which should have stolen her breath away, but merely caused her to issue an annoyed huff.

“I know you are meant for me and me for you, Lady Gabrielle. Can you not see it?”

She wiggled to create space between her and Lord Thorne. “I—I’m uncertain of our suitability.”

His smile was strained as he scanned the crowd, avoiding eye contact with her. “Then allow me a chance to convince you,” he said softly.

A glimpse of Anthony standing vigil at her brother’s side sent her emotions awhirl again. Blast him for abandoning her and placing her in this position. She had been unable to provide her oldest brother with a good reason to avoid the marriage mart when the start of the Season arrived. Anthony hadn’t returned as he’d promised, and she was still an unspoken-for female relying on her brother’s generosity.

“Lady Gabrielle,” Thorne whispered. “Allow me one chance to win your love. That is all I ask.”

Looking into his eyes, she sensed the storm brewing inside her dissipating. Wasn’t this what she wanted: the ability to rule her emotions? To ensure her impulsivity never hurt anyone again? She would never be at Thorne’s mercy as she was Anthony’s, because he didn’t possess the key to unlock her passion.

She closed her eyes and nodded once, a brief and almost imperceptible movement.

“Yes?” Lord Thorne sounded pleased.

“Well…” She felt slightly sick to her stomach.

His smile was glorious, and she tried to ignore her misgivings. Perhaps she owed it to
herself
to give him a chance. If Anthony only wanted to marry her because he’d compromised her, she would be doing all of them a favor.

“I cannot mislead you, my lord. I am conflicted and don’t know my heart.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I believe you are worth the risk.”

The dance ended and he ushered her from the floor. She couldn’t meet Anthony’s gaze as Thorne returned her to her brother’s care. He bid her good evening, then strolled away with a bounce to his step.

Her brother reached out to take her arm, a deep line forming between his brows. “You look pale, princess. Are you ill?”

The way her head was pounding and her stomach roiling, it was a possibility.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She waved her fan to create a breeze, but it did nothing to relieve her heated skin. “Would it be too much trouble to take me home?”

“I could take you,” Anthony said.

Drew shook his head. “You have my gratitude, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight without knowing she is all right. Allow me to retrieve Lana and we’ll go.”

Her brother cut through the crowd lining the dance floor, leaving her alone with Anthony.

“How am
I
to sleep without knowing if you are sick or well?” he mumbled.

Anger flew over her. How many nights had he slept with no knowledge of her welfare while she had tossed in her bed and worried for him? “It is simple really. Just close your eyes and forget about me. You seem to be good at it.”

He lightly grasped her elbow. His body heat saturated the scant space between them, and his familiar scent made her head swim. When his thumb caressed the skin above her elbow-length gloves, shivers raced along her nerves.

His smile turned her insides to jelly. “I know a better use for that sharp tongue, my lady. Perhaps I’ll show you, if you ask nicely.”