Sins of a Virgin (21 page)

“There’s a fragility about her.”

Gabriel stepped away from the serving table in the breakfast room, balancing his plate. “That was from the near drowning. Normally, she’s the least fragile woman I’ve ever met.”

His mother sipped absently at her tea. “No. She’s been hurt badly before.”

Her words too closely mirrored those of Lady Aphrodite. “By what?”

“By whom, most likely. I’d like to find out.”

So would he. Perhaps his mother would succeed where he’d failed. People willingly shared information with her that he would’ve had to drag from them with a team of horses. And his previous attempts to glean information from Madeline had been frustratingly fruitless. After all, he could only slam his head against a brick wall so many times.

“What would you like to find out?” Madeline asked as she glided in, her face innocent and curious.

She’d overheard everything then.

A cornflower blue gown swallowed Madeline’s small frame, dragging on the floor behind her. If not for her breasts straining against the bodice, she would have appeared to be a little girl dressed up in her mother’s clothes.

Not mother’s—Susan’s.

Gabriel sat heavily in his chair, his plate clattering slightly against the oak table.

“About you, of course. I apologize about the dress, but one of mine would have been even worse.” His mother smiled, patting her ample hips.

An answering smile formed on Madeline’s lips. “The dress is lovely. I can hardly blame you for my stature.”

Had Susan been that tall? Gabriel hated that he had to think about it. To his desperate relief, he recalled that she’d only been a few inches shorter than him. He’d been fifteen before he’d finally surpassed Susan in height. She’d been furious until she realized her art teacher was only an inch taller. Then she’d stopped complaining.

Where had his mother found it? He’d thought she’d donated all of Susan’s dresses years ago.

He’d been glad when she’d done it. The idea of Susan’s things hanging in her closet when she’d never return to them had bothered him. It seemed like a false hope, as if they were waiting for something that would never happen.

The heaping portions of food he’d served himself no longer appealed, and he pushed the plate away.

Thankfully, his mother had hurried to Madeline’s side to convince her to provision herself with enough food to feed an army, so she didn’t notice.

Gabriel pulled his plate back toward him. If he planned to use his mother to pry loose Madeline’s secrets, he couldn’t allow anything to distract either of them. Both of them would notice if he didn’t touch his food. For good measure, he also unfolded the paper so he’d have a valid excuse for not participating in the conversation.

As Madeline sat, Gabriel nodded absently in her direction, then returned to the paper laid out beside his plate.

His mother and Madeline chatted for several minutes about inconsequential topics: the weather, favorite places to purchase gloves, the poor treatment of the soldiers recently returned from the war. The topics should have been inane, and would have been if his mother and Madeline had been normal people. As it was, twice Gabriel almost snorted tea from his nose at some especially witty observation from one of the women. Both times, he barely covered his choked laughter with coughs.

“Are you feeling quite well, Gabriel?” his mother asked.

Gabriel swore silently as Madeline peered at him over a bit of ham, her blue-gray eyes far too assessing. “Is the tea not to your liking?”

That she’d noted his coughs did not bode well for his small deception. Gabriel redirected his attention back to the news. “Quite the contrary, it’s soothing on my throat.”

“Unwell from our dip in the Thames yesterday?” Madeline asked.

“I’m sure it is nothing. Simply a passing cough.”

“Anything of interest in the news?”

Although he’d been staring at the newspaper for the past fifteen minutes, he hadn’t actually read any of it. He scanned it, hurriedly searching for something of interest. “You’re mentioned.”

Madeline leaned toward him. “Really? What does it say?”

Gabriel had to fight not to peer down her bodice. His mother was sitting two feet away, for pity’s sake. Her eyes met his with a sparkle and he had the disturbing feeling that she was enjoying his internal struggle.

“That Miss V was attacked by some young miscreants and aided by the heroic Viscount L.”

“Yes, if he hadn’t offered his coach, I surely would have drowned. It’s good to see the praise go to those deserving it.”

The side of Gabriel’s lip edged upward. He didn’t care that he wasn’t mentioned in the story. But he did like that Madeline seemed to take issue with the discrepancy.

“So has Gabriel always been this astonishingly heroic?” Madeline asked.

Gabriel hoped his mother would recognize his quelling look. He didn’t want the conversation to turn to him. He needed it to revolve around Madeline. But his mother either didn’t see or ignored him.

Madeline, however, noted it with a smirk.

“Shall I guess? Did he bring home pigeons with broken wings? No, that wouldn’t be quite right. Did he soundly beat any and all neighborhood bullies?”

His mother chuckled. “Actually, he was rather bookish as a child.” Gabriel again tried to catch his mother’s attention. What happened to her intention to discover the truth about Madeline’s wounded past?

But his mother continued. “But he did always protect his sister. Once, when they were seven, Susan claimed her kitten had eaten the biscuits missing from the tea tray. Gabriel interrupted, explaining all the reasons why it was impossible for the cat to have been the culprit. But then she started to cry so Gabriel claimed responsibility and took the punishment.”

Susan had looked so betrayed when he undercut her argument, he’d had no choice. But it had been a ridiculous story. As if her kitten could have opened the nursery door and gone to the kitchen to eat the treats.

“Did you ever have a pet, Madeline?” his mother asked.

Gabriel exhaled. The conversation was back where it belonged.

A small, wistful smile drifted over Madeline’s face. “No. We couldn’t have fed one.”

Damnation, now in addition to the lust, he had to battle pictures of a forlorn, hungry young Madeline longing for a kitten.

Madeline glanced at him and her introspective gaze vanished. Her lips were transformed by the same smile she gave her suitors. “Perhaps that was fortunate. There were times when we would have eaten the poor thing.”

His mother placed her arm around Madeline’s shoulders. “Is that why you thought up the auction? I must admit I find the idea of your auction quite ingenious.”

Madeline’s expression froze. Gabriel thought it was discomfort. After all, his mother’s propensity for ambushing her friends with affection took time to accustom oneself to.

But then he noticed the slight flaring of her nostrils. She wasn’t embarrassed—she was terrified, tense as a deer about to take flight. “I found myself with few resources other than beauty.”

“But you’ve been quite intelligent about the whole thing. I quite admire that about you.”

To keep from staring dumbstruck at his mother, Gabriel stirred his tea. Had she just complimented Madeline on turning to a life of prostitution?

Madeline rose to her feet, freeing herself from his mother’s hug. She hurried to the side table and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Thank you, although I don’t suppose it’s something I should accept compliments on.” Despite her haste to the coffeepot, she added her sugar and cream with leisurely care.

The woman had been stabbed, drowned, and nearly set on fire without a single flinch, yet his mother’s touch sent her fleeing.

Perhaps he’d learned something of use about her this morning, after all. Unfortunately, without more context, he wasn’t entirely sure what.

Madeline returned to her seat, subtly scooting the chair a few inches from his mother as she sat.

“Who are your top bidders?” his mother asked.

M
adeline wanted to kick Gabriel in the shins and knock the panicked message from his face. Did he think her an absolute monster? She wasn’t about to tell his mother that her former lover was one of the top bidders. “I haven’t heard today. But Viscount Lenton is high on the list, as is Gabriel’s friend, the Earl of Danbury.”

Gabriel’s mother leaned in, her blue eyes glinting. “I haven’t seen him since they were at Oxford. Is Lenton as handsome and charming as Danbury?”

Madeline didn’t know what to think or how to act for the first time in years. Why was his mother friendly toward her? Distracted, Madeline had to think to remember either man’s face. “I haven’t spoken to Danbury so I can’t compare his charm, but Lenton is definitely dashing.”

“A suitable bed partner then?”

Gabriel made an odd, sputtering sound to her left.

His mother shook her head. “You’re welcome to cover your ears, dear.”

“Either of them would be adequate.” Madeline wasn’t quite sure what to say. She hadn’t had a mother in ten years and she didn’t need one. Even if she was tempted—which she wasn’t—she had no idea what she should confide to another woman.

“Only adequate?”

If his mother hoped for romance to blossom from the auction, she’d be sadly disappointed. “As decadent as this auction might seem, it’s business, nothing more.”

“Your mother’s no longer alive, is she?”

“No.”

“Then let me tell you something I’m sure she would have.”

Madeline would have paid a good amount of money to watch Gabriel’s face as his mother explained what happened between men and women in bed, but she couldn’t shake the fear she might blush as well. “I’m well aware of what to expect.”

“Physically, yes, I suspect you are. But have you considered the emotional aspect?”

Madeline shifted, uncomfortable. “There isn’t one. That’s the whole point.”

“But there will be. He’ll be your first. That isn’t something you’ll be able to take lightly. He’ll stay with you.” Her brows knitted together. “I will confide something to you. The situation between myself and Gabriel’s father—”

“Gabriel told me.”

Her brows lifted almost to her hairline. “Indeed? Well, that will make things simpler. Even though it only happened once. He’s with me every time I climb into bed. In my thoughts whenever I see a man and a woman together in the streets. But since we loved each other desperately, I don’t mind him.”

Gabriel’s hands tightened on the edge of the table. As Madeline reached for her tea, she glanced more fully at him. His face was expressionless, but red darkened his cheekbones.

“I cannot imagine what it would be like to have a stranger in my thoughts for the rest of my life,” Beatrice said.

Far too many men already crowded in Madeline’s head for her to worry about one more. “I appreciate your concern.” And she did truly. But she should be out driving in the park or flirting with potential bidders. Instead, she was sitting in a breakfast parlor. All because for the first time in ten years, she felt like a person. Not a spy.

Gabriel’s mother patted her on the cheek. “In other words, keep your nose out of my business, old woman.”

Madeline shook her head. “I didn’t—”

She waved her hand in dismissal. “I know you didn’t. Just keep it in mind. What would your mother have told you?”

Madeline could still feel the warmth of the older woman’s hand on her face. Her confusion only increased. “To be practical at all costs.”

More than that, she’d taught Madeline that emotions couldn’t fill an empty belly.

The air roughened until Madeline couldn’t draw in a smooth breath. Beatrice must have noticed, and she reached out to enfold Madeline in another hug.

Madeline spoke quickly. Anything to save her from being smothered by whatever emotion threatened to crush her. “My mother knew she was dying. After our rent, we barely had money for food. There was never any extra to save. So she made arrangements with the resurrection men.” Madeline sucked in a breath at the memory of the filthy, hard-eyed man who’d agreed to buy her mother’s body so he could sell it to the medical school. Mr. Hurke had fit his profession, his person as dark and moldering as the graves he robbed. “She arranged to sell her corpse to provide for me. She made me promise to tell them the same hour she died. They preferred the bodies fresh.” Madeline shuddered. Despite her promise, it had taken her two hours to gather the strength to inform Mr. Hurke that he could collect the body. She almost didn’t go, but her new position as an assistant seamstress wouldn’t pay until she’d learned the trade. She’d been left with little choice.

All her mother had asked in return was that Madeline be good. Despair uncoiled in Madeline’s stomach, writhing and twisting.

She had managed for two weeks.

Madeline lurched to her feet, her chair scraping behind her. Gabriel and his mother stared at her with identical stunned expressions.

She stumbled on the hem of the dress as she hurried toward the door. “I apologize. I’m not as recovered as I’d hoped.” She knew the lie would fool no one, but she didn’t care.

Madeline fled before she revealed anything else.

She heard Gabriel on the stairs behind her, but refused to acknowledge him. She didn’t want his pity. She hurried into her room, but his boot stopped the door before she could push it closed.

“I’m finished talking, Gabriel.”

He forced the door open and stepped inside. “My mother’s worried about you. She’s always been the nurturing type, but ever since Susan was murdered, she’s been unable to resist anyone she sees as a stray chick. She never meant to upset you.”

“It isn’t her fault I’m a ninny.”

He reached toward her cheek but she flinched. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Now leave.” She spun away, loath to have him read anything on her face.

His hands grasped her shoulders. “How old were you?”

“Fourteen.”

His thumbs rubbed slow circles on the base of her neck and she wanted to slap him away as much as she wanted to lean back into him and accept the comfort he offered. Confound it, how had she let herself become such a mess?