His Favorite Mistress (34 page)

Yours,
Gabriella

He read the letter a second time, then crushed the vellum inside his hand. What did she mean?
She can no longer remain at Rosemeade with me?
Why the devil not? And what was this nonsense about her being uncertain whether he would worry over her absence? Of course he would worry!
“Pray be so good as to not attempt to contact me…I shall be in touch when I am ready.”
As far as he was concerned, she could be ready now, and
would be
if only he knew where to find her.

“Did Her Grace give her direction?” he demanded, already knowing the answer but deciding to ask regardless.

The other man shook his head. “I am sorry, Your Grace. She was quite adamant about not providing that information despite my making several attempts to ascertain her plans. The coachman and I both attempted to dissuade her from leaving, beseeching her to wait until you arrived home, but she would hear none of it.”

“No, I am sure she would not.” Once Gabriella made up her mind about a thing, there tended to be little use reasoning with her. “It’s all right, Crump. I am sure you did your best.”

He paused for a moment, pacing a few steps in thought.
Where would she have gone?
To Rafe and Julianna most likely, he conjectured. Or perhaps to Ethan and Lily, though that seemed less probable given their departure only a couple of days ago. There was another possibility as well, that the friend of whom she spoke was no one he knew. She’d lived an interesting and varied life before he’d met her. Given that, she might have journeyed anywhere.

“Have my coach readied. I will ride for London within the hour,” he commanded, deciding to begin with the easiest and most obvious choice first. Before he departed, he would write a note to Ethan and Lily. He would also dispatch a pair of footmen to inquire at various coaching inns in hopes of tracing her path. One way or the other, he would find her.

With his plans set in motion, he went to his bedroom to collect a few belongings. As he strode through his sitting room, he caught a glance of hers through the open connecting door. Curving a hand around the door frame, he looked inside, air rushing abruptly from his lungs as a fist lodged in his gut.

Dear God, he thought,
she has left me. And what’s worse, I do not even know why.

Four days later, Gabriella’s coach pulled to a halt in front of a quaint cottage located in the western part of Shropshire, not far from the market town of Ellesmere. The powdery white snow that had slowed her journey coated the ground and the roof of the small house, smoke drifting upward from the brick chimney in slow, gray spirals.

Jumping down from the box above, the coachman went to announce her arrival. The door opened moments later, and a woman—who Gabriella assumed must be Maude’s cousin Josephine—stood framed in the entrance. Against her hip, the woman held a baby, while below a dark-haired toddler clung to her skirts. Gabriella watched as she exchanged a few words with the coachman before casting a surprised glance in the direction of the coach. “You must be mistaken,” she stated, her words carrying on the chill breeze. “Heavens above, do I look like the sort of woman who would know a duchess?”

Her coachman made an inaudible reply, the woman shaking her head once more. With the assistance of a footman, Gabriella stepped down from the coach. As she did, another woman joined the group, weak winter sunlight glinting off the fiery auburn strands in her graying hair.

Maude!
Gabriella cheered silently. But as she walked forward, protected against the wind by her dark green velvet and ermine-lined cloak and hat, her hands warm inside a matching fur muff, she realized with a sinking heart that her friend did not recognize her.

Have I changed so much?

“He says this here duchess is come to see ye, Maude,” her cousin declared, another pair of children peering out around their mother’s skirts. “A pardon, yer ladyship, but you must’ve got the wrong house,” Josephine said to Gabriella, managing a curtsey despite the clinging youngsters.

“If that lady is a duchess, you should address her as ‘Your Grace,’” Maude corrected in a gentle tone, her gaze curious. She stared for another long moment before her eyes suddenly grew wide. “Why, my lord above!
Gabby?
Is that you?”

Gabriella nodded, hurrying forward to be caught inside her friend’s reassuring embrace. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry to surprise you. I would have written to let you know I was coming but there wasn’t time.”

“That’s no matter,” Maude said, waving off her remark. “Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you! I had your letter about your marriage, of course. Wed to a duke, only imagine! And my, just look at you! You’re quite the elegant lady now. It’s why I didn’t recognize you straight off, you’ve grown so refined.” Maude glanced toward the coach. “Is your husband with you? Tell him to come out so I can meet him.”

She shook her head. “He is not with me. Maude, I…can I stay?”

The older woman’s eyebrows rose. “Here, do you mean?”

She nodded. “If it would not be too much of an imposition. I have some money, so you need not worry that I would be a burden.”

“Well, the cottage is small, not what you’re used to—at least not anymore.”

“I’ve stayed in smaller. Please.”

Maude frowned and drew her close enough so no one else would hear. “Are you in trouble, sweetheart?”

“If leaving my husband counts as trouble, then yes, I am.”

Her friend curved an arm around her shoulders. “Well, then, we’ll find a place for you, even if I have to sleep on the floor. Now, come inside and tell me everything.”

A week later Gabriella sat at a plain wooden kitchen table, three of Josephine’s children chasing each other through the room in giggling circles. With a gentle scold, Maude shooed them out, then took a seat opposite and reached for the teapot. After pouring herself and Gabriella each a steaming cup, she helped herself to a biscuit.

“It will be good when Jo’s husband returns,” Maude said. “She got word just today that he’s been released from his military service. These children need a father, though I hope she doesn’t end up in the family way again after his return.”

“Eight is a great many, is it not? They’re all dears, though.”

“Hmm. Dears indeed, but a handful nonetheless. Jo appreciates that you’ve been helping out. She said she was worried at first you’d expect to be waited on, but she’s relieved to find you’re not so high in the instep, despite your lofty title.”

“I like seeing after the young ones,” Gabriella replied, stirring a spoon through her tea. “The littlest, Maura, is a charmer.”

“That she is. She’s taken to you as well. Her face lights up whenever you are in the room. She’ll miss you when you go.”

Gabriella frowned, laying her spoon onto her saucer with a click. “Are you kicking me out already? I thought we were all getting along rather well. You haven’t even had to sleep on the floor as you feared,” she quipped.

“Jo don’t mind sharing, though we knock elbows some nights. And you know full well she and I are happy to have you here. But I expect that duke of yours doesn’t feel the same.”

“I doubt he cares. He’s probably in London right now enjoying his newfound freedom.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that. Men have a habit of wanting anything they think they can’t have. You’re his wife. He’ll want you back if for no other reason than that.”

“Well, I don’t want to go back. Not for a while yet, at least not until I can figure out what I am going to do.”

“And what are you going to do? As much as I wish it might be different, you cannot remain here indefinitely. The world doesn’t work that way.”

“I’ll think of something. I just need a bit more time.”

But Gabriella knew her friend was right. No matter how much she wished she could keep hiding away here, she’d realized soon after her arrival that her bold decision to run away was nothing more than a temporary measure at best. By now, the coach in which she had traveled must certainly have arrived back at Rosemeade. Tony would be sure to question the servants, who would divulge her exact location. Assuming he cared where she had gone, that is.

But as Maude pointed out, his pride would be injured. If for no other reason than that, he would want her back under his control. She supposed he would send her a letter, demanding that she return home. She wasn’t sure what she would do when that happened.

Spirits low, she sipped her tea.

“A coach, a coach, a coach!” whooped a pair of the boys from the front parlor. “Look at the horses and the big, fancy crest on the door. Who do you think it could be?”

Gabriella’s gaze met Maude’s, a lump forming in the base of her throat, both of them knowing exactly who it must be.

What am I going to do?
she thought, as a cold draught of wind swept into the cottage a minute later when the front door was opened and closed to let him inside.

“Who are you?” chirped one of the children.

“I’ll bet he’s the duke,” another one piped. “Are you? Are you really a duke?”

“That’s right,” resounded a deep, familiar male voice.

“Don’t be familiar,” reprimanded Josephine. “All of you, upstairs to your rooms.”

“But Mama—”

“Now!”

Groans filled the air, followed by a tidal wave of feet pounding against the stairs and floorboards. Moments later, all fell quiet.

“Sorry for that lot. H-how do you do, Y-your Grace?” Jo greeted in obviously awed tones.

“Good day, madam. Pardon the intrusion, but I am given to understand you may have a guest in residence. My wife, Gabriella Black.”

“Oh, I…well…well—”

“It’s all right,” Gabriella assured her flustered hostess as she stepped out of the kitchen into the front hall. “Obviously, he knows I’m here.” Her breath caught as she gazed up at Tony, his hair faintly wind tousled, a hard cast to his jaw.
Heavens,
she decided.
He looks tired and angry.

His striking blue eyes fixed upon her. “You have not been easy to find, especially given the snowstorms of late. Might we be in private, do you think?”

“The parlor.” She gestured toward the room. “You don’t mind, do you, Jo?”

“No, no, ’course I don’t.”

Tony waited, ever the consummate gentleman, while Gabriella preceded him into the room. He closed the doors behind them with a soft click that nevertheless managed to sound intimidating.

“Now, Gabriella, would you care to explain what is going on and why I’ve had to chase you halfway across England in the dead of winter?”

Her shoulders tensed as she moved farther into the room. “You need not have chased me anywhere. In my letter, I specifically asked you not to follow me.”

His eyebrows lowered like a pair of dark slashes. “Yes, I had your letter, but I’ve never been much of a hand at following dictates, especially when they’re of the nonsensical variety. Did you really imagine I would let you leave and not come in search of you?”

“At the time I wasn’t thinking of much else but the need to get away.”

Some of his anger visibly faded, replaced by an expression of concern and confusion. “And why is that? Everything was fine between us, or at least I thought it was, until those last couple of days. Then all of a sudden you withdrew from me. What has happened?” Crossing to her, he reached out to take her in his arms. “Tell me so I can understand. Give me a chance to make it better.”

“You can’t make this better,” she told him, shrugging free of his touch and stepping away. “Not unless you can change how you feel. I…I heard you, Tony. I heard what you said to Ethan, and I—” She broke off, hugging her arms around herself as she fought back the tears that suddenly threatened.

His shoulders stiffened, his arms falling to his sides. “And what conversation is this? What is it you believe you heard?”

“I don’t
believe,
I
know.
I stood at your study door—quite by accident, I might mention—and listened to you tell Ethan the real reason for our marriage. That you wed me out of pity because I was compromised and that your mistress, Lady Hewitt, was planning to tell everyone in Town about it.”

“
Ex
-mistress,” he corrected. “And yes, once she saw us together that night, your reputation was irretrievably damaged. There was nothing else to be done but wed.”

“Yes, there was. You could have simply ignored the entire thing and let matters take their course instead of manipulating me into marriage. No wonder you rushed me to the altar the way you did.”

“And thank God for it. Had I stood aside,” he retorted in a hard tone, “your reputation would have lain in shreds by the end of that week. No respectable family would so much have looked at you ever again, let alone received you into their home. If you believe the business with your aunt was difficult, it would have been nothing compared to that.”

“Maybe I would have preferred being shunned to being deceived.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “And that is why you are so upset? Because I persuaded you to become my duchess? To live a life of privilege and ease that most people would give their right arm to possess?”

Stepping forward, he caught her shoulders inside his grasp. “You’re correct, I did not want to see you ruined by Erika Hewitt’s spitefulness and cruelty. She hoped to get back at me and was happy to harm you in order to achieve her aim. If keeping you from suffering such a fate was wrong, then I stand guilty as charged. If that’s pity, then yes, I suppose I pitied you. But if you want to know the real reason I married you, it was because I desired you—in my bed and in my life. I still want you despite your exasperating, headstrong ways. So, let us put this behind us and go home.”

“And then what?”

“Then we’ll go back to the way things were. You seemed happy enough before.”

“Before the blinders came off, you mean. Before I learned the truth.”

“The truth of what? That we get along well together? That we enjoy pleasuring each other in bed? That we are far more compatible than most of the couples I know? Why do you have to question everything? Why can’t you simply let things be?”