A Gentleman Never Tells(44)
They stopped at the edge of the dance floor, as the call to assemble on it hadn’t been announced. Wanting to avoid the awkwardness of standing in silence, she said, “I don’t know much about you, Lord Brentwood. I looked in copies of old newsprint for some mention of you in the Society Column and found none. I find that odd.”
He smiled. “You admit you wanted to find out more about me?”
She eyed him curiously. “Yes, of course. Why shouldn’t I?”
“You could have just asked.”
“There has been precious little time for that when we’ve been together.”
His lashes lowered, and his gaze fell to her lips. “I agree. We’ve always had other pressing matters to discuss, haven’t we?”
Gabrielle’s abdomen tightened. She refused to let her attraction to him overtake her again. She inhaled deeply, focused on remaining calm, and asked, “Is this your first visit to London?”
His gaze lingered for a moment longer on her mouth and then swept back up to her eyes. “Not the first, but I don’t come often. There is much to keep me busy at my estate in Devonshire. On the whole, our lands are fertile, sheep and cattle are plentiful, and there are several surrounding villages. Certainly there are enough people, parties, and dinners to keep a much busier social life than I care to participate in.”
“On occasion, I have traveled throughout England, Wales, and Scotland with my father, but I don’t think I’ve ever been to your part of Devonshire.”
“In that case, I’ll look forward to showing it to you after we are married.”
Suddenly, she could hardly wait to watch that cocksure attitude of his crumble. “I love London, my lord, and doubt I would ever be happy living in the country. With my father such an important figure in Parliament and advisor to the prince, we’ve never spent much time at any of our country homes. I’m sure I would get dreadfully lonely away from the shops, the plays, the opera, even the street lamps. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t take a walk in one of London’s parks.”
Lord Brentwood regarded her thoughtfully for a moment with his golden-brown eyes. “Nonsense. The Brentwood estate is surrounded by nature that is much more impressive than Hyde Park, St. James, or any of London’s other parks. And believe me, Lady Gabrielle, you won’t have to wade through all the people, horses, and carriages for your strolls. You won’t see the street vendors, milk carts, or the traveling minstrel shows and carnivals that put up their tents around the parks. All you have is the beauty of nature, peace, and tranquility without the trappings of civilization.”
The picture he was painting for her sounded divine, but she didn’t want him to know that, so she gave him a queer look and offered, “But I want all that in my life, my lord. I enjoy civilization. I like seeing people and talking to them. I love to attend carnivals, circuses, and all the traveling shows that come to London.”
The assembly was called while she was still speaking, so Lord Brentwood took hold of her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. “You will get used to the quietness of country life.”
The old Gabrielle would have simply acquiesced to his statement and remained quiet, but she was no longer willing to be agreeable or dutiful simply for the sake of being the way others thought she should be. She said, “I don’t want to get used to it, my lord. I want to be free to make my own decisions about where I shall live as well as whom I should marry.”
“That decision was taken away from you when you were found in my arms, Lady Gabrielle.”
She scoffed at his comment. “No, my lord. That decision was taken from me the moment I was born the duke’s daughter.”
They fell silent as other dancers took the floor and surrounded them. A short introduction was played, and Gabrielle realized they would be dancing the waltz. She would have much preferred the quadrille or an even faster dance, where there wouldn’t have been the constant touching. But perhaps all was not lost. She would take this opportunity and use it to show him why she would not be a good wife for him.
He took her hand in his and then placed the other on her back, while she lifted hers and laid it on his broad, strong shoulder. The music started, and on the proper note, Lord Brentwood took a gliding step forward. Gabrielle purposefully didn’t move her foot in time, and he stepped on her toes. He tried not to put his weight down on her and almost tripped himself trying to keep from hurting her.
“Ouch,” she whispered, not realizing it would hurt so much to have him land on her foot.