A Gentleman Never Tells(43)

Nine



What must be shall be; and that which is a necessity to him that struggles, is little more than a choice to him that is willing.

—Seneca

It was on the tip of Gabrielle’s tongue to say to Lord Brentwood that she never promised him anything, but she stopped herself before speaking. It was brash of the viscount to assume she would play along with what was so obviously not true, rather than call his hand.

“I, ah, yes, I believe I did,” she said, deciding she didn’t want her friends to know Lord Brentwood was being brazenly forward, because she hadn’t agreed to a dance.

He took her punch cup from her hand and placed it on a table behind him. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting these two lovely ladies. Perhaps you would like to present them before we leave.”

“Yes, please,” Babs said and curtseyed.

“Yes, of course,” she said, and then taking a deep breath, she presented Fern and Babs to Lord Brentwood.

A roguish grin made its way across Lord Brentwood’s lips, intriguing Gabrielle so much she couldn’t take her eyes off him. It was then she realized the scratch under his eye and cut on his lip had healed. In the deepest recesses of her abdomen, a quickening started and shuddered all the way up to her breasts and lingered there before moving on to her throat, tightening it. Would this man always make her feel this way every time she saw him? By the heavens, could he possibly know she had been completely enchanted by him since the moment she first saw him, and she was desperately trying to fight it?

Gabrielle had to find the strength to deny those wonderful feelings he always sparked inside her and plant her feet back on solid ground. If Staunton, who had been her fiancé for almost six months and had kissed her on more than one occasion, couldn’t make her feel these wonderful sensations, how in heaven’s name could the viscount?

After a few moments of chatting with Fern and Babs, Gabrielle and Lord Brentwood excused themselves and headed in the direction of the room that had been cleared of furniture and readied for dancing.

As soon as they were far enough away from her friends, Gabrielle looked over at the viscount and said, “I’m certain I didn’t promise you a dance, my lord.”

He glanced over at her and smiled. “No?”

She shook her head.

“Well, you should have. I’m a very good dancer. Besides, it’s only a matter of time before your father returns and our engagement will be formally announced. Perhaps it’s best I stake my claim on you now.”

His choice of words stung. Why couldn’t Lord Brentwood want to marry her because she made him feel all the wonderful things he had made her feel, and he wanted to feel them over and over again?

“The way you said that makes me sound like a piece of land, my lord.”

“You are far more valuable to me than land, Lady Gabrielle.”

It was clear he still thought that, as a duke’s daughter, she would make him a perfect wife. She was going to do her best to change his mind about that. And if he considered himself a very good dancer, she might as well begin her plan on the dance floor.

“Ah, that’s right,” she said. “How could I have forgotten that as a duke’s daughter, my dowry is considerable, and more important, I am the key to your brothers’ business success, right?”

“All that is true, but as we discussed in your back garden, there are certainly many things that will make you an excellent choice for my wife.”

Wanting to change the subject, she said, “I had hoped to receive word from you this week concerning Prissy’s safe return home.”

“I had no news to report. I would have sent you a note, as I promised, if I had.”

That wasn’t what Gabrielle wanted to hear. She knew how much he adored the little dog and, sadly, if she hadn’t been found in a week, she probably wasn’t going to be. It was best to change the subject again.

“I’m glad your face has completely healed since I last saw you.”

He chuckled ruefully and touched the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes, I now recognize myself when I look in the mirror.”

She tried not to look at anyone as they walked side by side through the drawing room and into the music room where the dancing was to take place. But she couldn’t completely shield her eyes from everyone. Though she was well aware the whispers behind the fans and hands were about her, she hoped no one would be ill-mannered enough to say anything about her while she was with the viscount, as the ladies had when she was with Babs and Fern.