A Gentleman Never Tells(74)
“What is it?” Auntie Bethie asked.
“I fear I have put you in a most untenable position, Auntie, and I hope you will forgive me.”
The corners of her eyes wrinkled in worry. “What’s wrong?”
“I found Rosa about to take a walk in the garden with a gentleman I know she shouldn’t be with, so I told her you were not feeling well and she was to meet us at the front door in two minutes. Are you angry with me?”
“Angry?” Her aunt laughed heartily. “Heavens, no! I trust your judgment about the man, and I’ve been ready to go since we got here.”
“Good. That makes me feel somewhat better about my prevarication.”
“Nonsense. It wasn’t a prevarication. At my age, I always have an ache or a pain somewhere in this body. You can always use my ailments as an excuse.”
Gabrielle hugged her aunt tightly and whispered, “I’m so glad you will be staying in London. It looks like I’m going to need you.”
“And I’m glad,” her aunt said, patting her shoulder. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than help you with a sister who is one minute so happy she’s on top of the world and then the next feels like her world is crumbling beneath her feet.”
The servant walked up with Gabrielle’s cloak. Thank goodness she had her aunt to lend a hand with Rosa, because Gabrielle had her hands full with Brent.
***
Brent walked into White’s and handed his coat, hat, and gloves to the attendant. He was in need of something strong to get his mind off Gabrielle. If not for Staunton’s foolhardy stunt, he could be at the Cuddlebury’s house, talking and dancing with Gabrielle. Instead, he had to settle for a few hands of cards or a game or two of billiards to fill the hours in the night. He spoke to a couple of gentlemen on his way to the taproom, where he walked up to the bar and leaned against it.
A roaring fire added warmth to the dimly lit room. It looked as if every chair was filled with men talking noisily. The scent of burned wood and candle wax hung heavily on the air. Brent stuck his finger down his collar, trying to loosen it, while he ordered a glass of brandy. Perhaps a sip or two of the amber liquid would lift his spirits and put him in the mood to win big at the gaming tables.
As he waited for his drink, Gabrielle came to his mind. The truth was she seldom left his thoughts. And he didn’t know why. She had played him for a fool when they first met, but after getting to know her, it had been easy to forgive her for that. She had her reasons, and one day he’d find out what made her walk out of the mist and into his arms.
It wasn’t her fault her father had threatened to ruin his brothers’ business if he didn’t marry her, and she certainly hadn’t let that stop her from making it perfectly clear she didn’t want to marry him. She had gone to great lengths to make him not want to marry her. He chuckled to himself, remembering the afternoon she hoped to read poetry to him. He’d tried to make it clear to her she couldn’t do anything that would dissuade him from marrying her, especially now that he had tasted her passion.
He closed his eyes and remembered how soft and pliant her lips were when he’d kissed her under that tree. He remembered how her breasts were firm yet soft beneath the palm of his hand.
“Lord Brentwood?”
Brent’s eyes popped open. He turned and saw Lord Waldo, the Duke of Rockcliffe’s youngest brother, standing beside him. After his altercation with Iverson, Brent was surprised the man spoke to him.
“Evening, Lord Waldo.”
The duke’s brother asked the server for a tankard of ale before turning back to Brent. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my brother’s dog is missing.” The man was as nervous as a hen staring at a fox. His big blue eyes twitched and he blinked rapidly.
Brent straightened. “No, I hadn’t heard.”
“My brother doesn’t know Tulip is gone yet, as he’s been away. I’d like to find her before the duke returns. I was wondering if you might be able to help me.”
First Snellingly approached him and now Lord Waldo. Was everyone who lost a dog going to come to him for help now?
“I don’t suppose I’d mind, Lord Waldo, but I don’t know how I can. I’ve not yet found my mother’s dog.”
“I’m sorry about that. I was hoping you had. It would have given me more hope. I know you’ve been searching the parks and streets for your dog, and I was hoping maybe you’d seen a small beige terrier. She answers to Tulip or Tooley.”