Untrue Colors (Entangled Select Suspense) (8 page)

“Henry, is this your countess?” Lynn left her client to lift Gabe’s hand and examine the ring. “I remember this ring on your mother.”

“When this charming lady fell into my lap, Lynn, I knew she was destined for Ripon.”

Gabe remained speechless until she was outside the salon. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, clenched her hands into fists, and placed them on her hips. “Engaged? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you’re a beautiful woman I met at a social function. It would not stretch the bounds of reason to be engaged to you, darling.”

She stepped back and made a noise like a growl. “Don’t ever call me ‘darling.’ It’s a term used by domineering assholes who pretend they care more than they do.”

Obviously, another part of her past rising up to ruin a nice moment. “I hope you’re not referring to me.”

The tension in her face melted off. She didn’t smile, but the hostility had dissipated. “No. You’re always a gentleman, even when I’m not such a lady. Where did you find this black sapphire? It’s beautiful.”

“It’s a diamond.”

She stared at the stone. “It’s a corundum, not a carbonado. A sapphire.”

Henry had no idea what she was talking about.

She sighed. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Do you like sapphires?”

“It’s my birthstone. I suppose I have to like them.”

Sapphire? What month was that? September? “Well then, it’s perfect for you.”

“I can’t accept it.”

“Of course you can. Besides, it’s sort of a loan, not a gift. We’ll pretend to be engaged unless we’re in active pursuit of the painting and using different identities.”

She shook her head. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“What could go wrong?” He took a few steps down the sidewalk and spun around when he realized she wasn’t following him.

“Everything could go wrong. What’s the benefit of being engaged to you?” Turning away before he could answer, she hurried down the street.

The idea had less merit than it did an hour ago. Henry sighed, his enthusiasm declining in as rapid a pace as her strides.

“A few reasons,” he said, trying to catch up to her in order to eliminate the need to yell his answer. “No one would expect you, a person who dresses like a rock-star wannabe, to become engaged to an earl, so your identity remains protected. Second, I told my uncle I was engaged, because he really wants me to marry someone. Anyone, actually. Bringing you around should keep him at bay for a few months. And finally, and most important, my fiancée will have a certain amount of protection and insulation at functions.”

She stopped again and whirled around to face him. With her hand fisted on her hip, her lips pinched together, and an expression that didn’t welcome him into her arms, the feisty woman stood her ground. Feisty looked great on her. “Brilliant idea, Mr. Professor, but let me explain a few things. An engagement to your kind is the sort of thing that lands in newspapers. There will be pictures. People seem to know you here and will be interested to learn about your bride-to-be, and I’ll be outed. I wish you hadn’t given me the ring in public without speaking to me first. You are the biggest moron in the world. And trust me, I know some huge morons. I wanted to help you, not marry you.”

“The engagement is only temporary. At the end of three weeks, we each go our own way. And the rags have more interest in the players on Manchester United than they do in me.”

She feared his popularity for nothing. The press never followed him. He wasn’t that important outside of his hometown. And he preferred it that way.

“At least try to make do. We can’t break it off now. Most of Ripon will know in a few hours about the engagement.”

“I don’t believe you’ve exposed me like this.” She marched away from him again, hitting her palms against each other. “Fine. Have it your way,” Gabe called back to him. She veered off into a small boutique. “I suppose if I’m to dress to your standards, I’d better rectify my wardrobe right now.”

She strode over to a familiar-looking saleswoman.

Terrific.

“Hi, I’m interested in buying your most expensive, classiest clothes.” Gabe pointed to him and smiled. “My fiancé is paying.”

“Fiancé? Henry, is this true?” his former babysitter asked.

“Miracles happen, Eloise. If you’ll excuse us.” He looped his arm around Gabe’s waist and circled her right back to the sidewalk. “We can’t shop there.”

“Why not?”

“I honestly can’t afford it at the moment.”

“You really are broke?”

“Not broke so much as limited in my access to cash. I told you the trustee won’t help fund anything to do with the women’s group, and I can’t imagine him approving a new wardrobe for you to help in my quest to board broken families in the east wing.”

“Even if I’m your fiancée?”

“Especially. He wanted me to marry his sister and seems quite bitter about my refusal.”

The anger faded from her eyes, replaced by amusement at his dilemma. “Fine. I have an idea. Where’s the nearest consignment shop?”

Three hours later, Gabe, the pretend soon-to-be-countess, looked every bit the part, from the sapphire on her hand to the tan leather bag on her shoulder. If he had half the ability to locate quality items the way Gabe could, he’d have the renovations on the castle completed at a fraction of the cost. She foraged for the best designs in the thrift store and at a small consignment shop located a few kilometers away. With her elegant almost-new wardrobe, even her attitude transformed. He could picture her surrounded by wealth and privilege. There’s no way she’d be recognized as the pink-haired hellion who had rolled into his life a few days before.

When they were served dinner back at the house, Martha expressed shock at Gabe’s transformation. “Miss West, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Gabe’s smile was genuine and radiant.

Martha remained a few seconds longer, arms crossed in front of her, staring at the ring and waiting for an announcement. No doubt the local gossips had already texted all of Ripon and the surrounding towns. He didn’t want Gabe to become mad again, so he’d speak to Martha privately after dinner about the engagement.

Henry cleared his throat. “Thank you, Martha, that will be all for now.”

She departed after a noticeable huff, turning back twice to glance at Gabe before reaching the kitchen.

“Pack your things tonight, countess. We leave in the morning.”

“We do?”

“There’s a dinner tomorrow night we should attend near London, and the Oxford house is closer. If you move quickly, we should be gone from here before the hundreds of photographers you fear track us down.”

She scowled, which looked more adorable in her current attire than it did in her ripped jeans and sweatshirt. “One picture is all it takes, Henry.”

Chapter Ten

After end
uring a four-hour drive with Henry that included lunch at the Grey Pig Pub somewhere between nowhere and Oxford, Alex returned to his other home.

The few days in Ripon had been bliss. She wasn’t looking over her shoulder for Luc and his thugs.

In another life, she and Henry would have met at some house party to which her mother had sent her. They would have been attracted to each other before the third course of their first meal together. Two geeky intellectuals who loved children. In this life, however, they were thrown together to chase down stolen paintings and evil demons.

When they walked into the kitchen, Simon greeted her with a catcall and an appreciative leer. She reciprocated the gestures.

“And who is this beauty?” he asked. His smile remained ever present, but it now seemed insincere for some reason. Perhaps he distrusted her because she’d run away.

Henry moved next to him. “The future Countess of Ripon. Show him the ring, Sunshine.”

She displayed the ring in an elegant pose that also showed off her tall black Stuart Weitzman boots, black Dior skirt, and matching black vest over a white silk blouse. She’d never be tall enough to be a model, but for now, she could pretend to be a countess.

Simon raised his eyebrows. “A black diamond. Unconventional, as is the bride.”

“It’s a sapphire.” She sighed. She should just agree with everyone to avoid a lengthy explanation each time she showed the ring.

“Aren’t sapphires blue?” Simon held her hand toward the light to examine the stone.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand back. “Depends on the composition of the stone.”

Simon glanced toward Henry. “Don’t even attempt to convince me you know the difference.”

Henry shrugged. He grabbed a soda from the refrigerator, offered it to her, and then took one for himself. “Tonight, I’m taking Gabe to meet the aunt and uncle. It should be a small dinner party and will be good practice for her before we go to any bigger social functions.”

He hugged her close with one arm and brushed his mouth over the top of her head. An intimate gesture that caused a million butterflies to take flight in her stomach.

“Gabe, why don’t you go up and get ready for dinner? I need to speak with Simon.” He kissed her again, this time on the cheek, before letting her go.

She climbed the stairs and shut her bedroom door, but remained in the hall. After taking off her shoes, she tiptoed back downstairs and hid behind the kitchen door. The men were sitting at the island, discussing her.

Simon swigged her neglected can of soda. “Engaged?” He sounded disgusted. “That creates more of a mess than you’re in right now. You have no idea of her actual identity, and yet you’ve decided to marry her?”

“It’s merely a facade, but hides her identity from whomever is pursuing her. Besides, I think she feels safer with me than being alone, and she’s agreed to help me find the painting. With your help, too, of course.”

“What’s to stop her from taking that ring and pawning it off for travel funds?” Simon’s tone full of suspicion.

“She gave me her word she’d help me, and I trust her.”

“You’re going to beggar yourself on some con artist,” Simon said.

Henry’s voice darkened. “You’re wrong. She’s not what she seems. I don’t know who or what she is, but there’s more integrity and grit there than meets the eye.”

She smiled at the compliment. Perhaps she’d found a champion.

…

Henry ex
plained the background of his aunt and uncle during their drive to Mayfair. When he told her some of the basic table manners expected at a dinner party with this circle of people, Gabe shut her eyes. Hopefully, she was still listening, so she wouldn’t feel out of place. His aunt’s pedigree rivaled the queen’s, and she entertained in a similar manner.

He pulled up in front of his uncle’s place on Upper Grosvenor. A valet helped Gabe to the sidewalk.

Henry looked her over once more. He liked what he saw. Her makeup was soft and pretty. One eye peeked out from her new sleek hairstyle, and her posture could not have been more perfect on a debutante. She wore a fitted pale pink dress embellished with a ruffle over one shoulder. Crystal stilettos displayed perfect feet and pink toenails. Her tempting legs were exposed to two inches above her knee. Classy, yet sexy as hell.

Uncle George greeted them at the door to his town house. “Henry, so glad you could come.” He let his gaze swing to Gabe and held her hand with both of his. “You must be the lucky girl. Henry has told me about your engagement. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. He’s told me so much about you. Your work as a member of Parliament is admirable.” Gabe spoke with an almost aristocratic affectation similar to the Kennedys of Boston.

Uncle George beamed.

During the walk from the foyer to the living room, his uncle introduced a poised and polished Gabe to several couples connected to his uncle through Parliament, two Russian socialites new in town, and a few single men to mingle with the single women. Gabe navigated the minefield of aristocrats with practiced grace. She spoke without hesitation, yet without a need to overpower anyone else. She never contradicted or argued with anyone and made no comments on the authenticity of the paintings hanging on the walls.

Uncle George pulled him aside while Gabe discussed the wedding with Aunt Mary. “I like her.” He slapped Henry on the shoulder.

She’d passed the first test.

“As you should. I told you I’d found the perfect woman. She happens to be American, but that seems to be her only flaw.”

He laughed. “She’s pretty, soft-spoken, and a real angel. She’ll make you some beautiful children. Perhaps you can hand the reins of your little charity thing to her, although I doubt she’ll approve of housing all those dysfunctional families in the castle.”

A small hand slid over his arm, and a warm feeling flooded his heart.
Gabe.
He turned to see her gazing at him with feigned admiration. What an actress.

She focused on his uncle. “May I call you Uncle George since we’ll be family soon?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you.” She beamed warmth mingled with something indefinable, yet hypnotizing. “I overheard you speaking of the Ripon Women’s Group. Henry’s work with them is inspiring. With the changes he proposes, he’ll improve the lives of many wonderful women and children whose only crime was picking a lousy boyfriend or husband.” She squeezed his arm. “Knowing these families can benefit from the generosity of the Chilton family compels me to assist him in the renovation of that section of the castle. What a legacy Henry will leave to future generations. I’m so proud of his efforts.” She turned those lovely eyes back toward him and made him wish for a moment that their engagement wasn’t fictitious.

Aunt Mary called everyone to dinner. After Uncle George left to help her, Henry linked his arm in hers, and they strolled into the dining room together.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Your family seems nice. Your aunt adores you.” She smiled up at him.

“By the end of the evening, I’m sure you’ll become her favorite.” He stopped a moment to kiss her. He’d never been so addicted to a woman. Suddenly, the party was overcrowded and boring. He wanted to take Gabe home.

The dining room could sit twenty people in comfort. Rose-tinted curtains framed amazing views of Hyde Park. The table covered in white damask glimmered with crystal glasses and silverware. A huge bouquet of white roses and lilies, his aunt’s favorite flowers, decorated the center of the table and guaranteed that no one on the far ends of the table would see the other side.

Gabe sat between a Russian model and Frank Stevens, a thirty-year-old viscount and the founder of a biotech firm near Greenwich. Henry tried to hear their conversation, but caught mere snippets, something about Frank’s need for capital and Gabe’s suggestion of angel investors. From Henry’s vantage point, Frank appeared mesmerized by her, completely caught up in their conversation. She acted as though Frank was the only person in the room. Her sweetness came across as seductive. At least to Henry it did. And he wanted that seductive look all to himself. Jealousy burned in his chest, but she wasn’t his. And never would be.