One Rogue Too Many (8 page)

She swept from the conservatory before her sister could offer any other commentary. Embarrassment engulfed her as she reflected on her behavior. What was wrong with her that she lost all reason when he was near? There was nary a ripple in his comportment, while her emotions crashed like waves upon jagged rocks.

“Cursed man,” she grumbled as she let herself into her chambers.

“Whom are you talking to?”

Gabby jumped at the sound of her sister’s soft voice. “I didn’t see you. What are you doing in here?”

Katie was curled up in a chair by the window with a book. “The lighting is better.”

“But it’s my chamber. You should ask permission first.”

A pink flush invaded Katie’s cheeks and she closed her book. “I’m sorry.”

Gabby playfully tugged her sister’s toffee-colored curl. “You don’t have to leave, Katie Cat. Just ask next time.”

Her sister’s face blazed red at Gabby’s use of her pet name, and Gabby’s heart swelled with affection. She loved all her siblings, but she shared a special bond with the youngest family member.

Gabby walked to her desk to set aside her sketch and charcoals. She would finish the drawing later. A fresh bouquet of flowers sat on her desk, their subtle fragrance pleasant.

“What did you draw today?” Katie asked as she rose from the chair and came to look.

“Anthony again.” She sighed. Katie didn’t know what had transpired between them, but she had guessed at Gabby’s feelings long ago. Her sister was sensitive in that way and never teased her like Lizzie. “He paid a call earlier.”

“I know.” Katie picked up her sketch. “I was here when Magda brought in his flowers.”

“These are from Anthony? How thoughtful.” Light pink dahlias. She had always preferred feminine and romantic flowers to the starkness of orchids or lilies. Had she ever mentioned her preference to him?

“Your drawing is wonderful,” Katie said and placed it reverently back on the desk. “It appears Lord Ellis returns your feelings. I’m very happy for you.”

Gabby nibbled her bottom lip as she considered the validity of her sister’s assumption. “Maybe, but I don’t want to get my hopes up too high. I have been disappointed more than once by the gentleman.”

Her sister hugged her. “This time could be different. At least keep an open heart.”

Tears misted Gabby’s eyes as she hugged her sister back. Katie was as much a romantic as Gabby had been long ago. How she missed the optimistic young girl she used to be. Could she ever be that girl again?

“I promise to try.”

Seven

Anthony stood outside the nursery listening to his daughter’s chatter drifting through the cracked door. Her voice was so sweet and foreign to him that he couldn’t help eavesdropping. Once Annabelle saw him, she would clamp her lips together tightly and stare at him with large green eyes that reminded him of her mother.

Odd that his anger with Camilla never reared its head when he looked at his daughter. He only felt angry with himself.

More than once, he’d berated himself for the choice he had made to leave his daughter in her aunt’s care. He was little more than a stranger to Annabelle now, but he’d thought he was doing the right thing. After all, Miss Teague was Annabelle’s true blood and the only mother she had ever known.

“Lady Poppy likes cream in her tea, Mama.” He could picture Annabelle hugging the tiny doll. Even if she didn’t care for him, she loved his gifts. He supposed he could be proud of that at least.

“Oh, dear,” Miss Teague said with mock distress. “Why do I always forget? Allow me, Lady Poppy.”

Annabelle’s delighted squeal made him smile. “Not on her
hat
, Mama.” She expressed her mirth as only a child could, with deep belly laughs. His heart swelled and made his chest feel full. He’d missed out on much of her four years of life with visiting no more than a handful of times a year. But she’d obviously been well cared for by Miss Teague, and Annabelle was happy.

Just
not
around
me.

That did seem to be his lot in life. He was the thief of happiness for every female unfortunate enough to be associated with him. At least that had been his mother’s recurring lament when her mind was fuzzy with brandy. He simply assumed his wife, Camilla, had felt the same since she hied off with her lover a few months after marrying Anthony.

He hated to interrupt his daughter’s play, but he wished to say good night before he returned to Talliah House for dinner. He knocked lightly on the door then eased it open.

Miss Teague and Annabelle were seated at the miniature table he’d bought after his return from Crickhowell, where he had found his daughter residing with her aunt. Part of him must have hoped Annabelle would live with him one day.

Miss Teague smiled. “My lord, how kind of you to visit us this evening.”

“Miss Teague. Annabelle.” He bowed toward the doll in Annabelle’s arms. “Lady Poppy. My, but you look fetching in your new bonnet, my lady.”

Annabelle inched closer to her aunt, her eyes round and fearful.

The gut-punch went all the way to his spine. Ah, well. It had been too much to hope she might like him a little more today.

Miss Teague nudged Annabelle. “Say good evening to your papa.”

She snuggled against her aunt, crushing her copper curls.

“Go on, now. Mind your manners.”

“Good evening, Papa,” Annabelle mumbled.

When Anthony looked at Annabelle and Miss Teague together, their fiery locks the same brilliant shade, he had no doubt the woman had been telling the truth about his daughter. Annabelle wasn’t really his.

Miss Teague’s brother—Camilla’s lover—had sired Annabelle. But that didn’t make him her father.

Anthony had loved his daughter before she was born, and he would love her as long as he lived. She was his child by heart if not blood. And if that lousy blackguard James Teague ever tried to take her away again, Anthony would see him swinging from the gallows. He was lucky Anthony hadn’t crossed paths with him in Wales or he would already be dead.

Thank God, Miss Teague had possessed the wherewithal to send word to Anthony and go into hiding when her brother had come around threatening to take Annabelle unless she paid off his debts.

Neither female spoke as he rocked back and forth on his heels, trying to think of something clever to say. Nothing came to him. “Well, I will leave you to your tea party then. I wanted to say good night before I left for the evening.”

Miss Teague squeezed Annabelle to her side. “How lovely of you to call, my lord. We wish you a good night as well.”

Annabelle was gawking at him as if he were a beast that might gobble her up.

He sighed and slowly turned on his heel. Perhaps someday he would cease frightening the wits out of her. But this evening he needed to turn his attentions toward charming another young lady.

He had given consideration to his conversation with Gabby that afternoon and came to an alarming realization. She truly thought he had asked for her hand because that was what an honorable gentleman would do if he compromised a young woman.

He could try discussing it with her, but invariably he would say the wrong words. That was always the case when it came to speaking his heart. In truth, a part of him still feared the rejection he’d known as a boy, so he held on to his thoughts and feelings tightly.

No, talking might only complicate matters. Instead, he would do what he did best. He would
show
Gabby how much he loved her. His quest tonight was something he should have done long ago. He was going to court her in the way she deserved. And once he’d won her heart, he would set his mind on how to win over Annabelle.

***

Gabby recalled countless times Anthony had dined at her family’s table without incident, but tonight one disaster seemed to follow another. First, she had looked up as she was reaching for her lemonade only to discover him staring at her and she tipped over her glass. Next she had dribbled gravy on her newest gown.

And now…

“Oh, dear!” Mama said, her eyes wide with fright. “She’s choking.”

Gabby tried to suck in a deep breath, but coughing racked her body.

Anthony and her brother sprang from their chairs, but Anthony reached her first.

“Can you speak?”

She couldn’t stop coughing long enough to answer.

“Egads! She
is
choking.” He spun her around and banged his palm against her back. Hard.

“S-stop,” she tried to say, but the next blow knocked the air from her lungs, then set off another round of hacking that seemed to originate from her toes.

More bone-jarring blows followed until Gabby turned on him, having caught her breath at last. “Stop pounding me, you jackanapes! I am not a rug in need of a beating.”

Lizzie smothered a giggle with her hands.

“Gabrielle,” their mother scolded, sounding rather scandalized. “That is no way to thank Lord Ellis for coming to your rescue.”

Anthony’s face had changed to scarlet and Gabby immediately regretted her harsh words. He had only been trying to help, even though she might later bear bruises for his good intentions.

She forced a smile, hoping it didn’t translate into a grimace. “Mama is correct. That is no way to show my appreciation. I beg your pardon, my lord.”

He sketched a bow. It seemed he wanted to say something, but he snapped his mouth closed and resumed his seat across the table.

“Now, Gabby,” her sister-in-law Vivian said as she resettled her napkin on her lap, her blue eyes twinkling with good humor. “If you didn’t like the lamb chops, you needed only to say so.”

Everyone around the table chuckled, Gabby included. Vivian was a nice addition to the family and had a talent for diffusing tense situations.

“You’ll forgive me for not asking for seconds, then?” Gabby teased.

Her brother winked at his wife, likely thinking he was being covert. Gabby smiled and returned to her dinner. It was good to see Luke happy at last.

Thankfully, the rest of the meal passed without any other catastrophes, and oddly, she felt more at ease. She was even able to meet Anthony’s gaze without feeling she might jump out of her skin.

At least until the last course was cleared from the table and her brother’s gaze landed on her.

“Gabrielle, Lord Ellis has requested an audience this evening. Perhaps you could show him to the drawing room and allow him a word.”

Lizzie gasped beside her and Katie gawked from across the table.

Gabby’s heart clogged her throat. What had Anthony said to Luke to explain his complaisant attitude? She looked to her mother, sure Anthony’s request for a private audience had scandalized her, but Mama offered an untroubled smile in return.

Anthony cleared his throat. “Your Grace, if it pleases you, perhaps it would be best if you were present as I address Lady Gabrielle.”

Luke’s eyebrows shot up and an odd look passed between them. “Very well, but rest assured my sister speaks for herself.”

Anthony nodded sharply. “And I will abide by her wishes.”

Gabby’s feet felt fashioned of iron and her legs like taffy as her brother escorted her to the drawing room. She glanced over her shoulder at Anthony following behind them, silently praying he hadn’t said anything about that day at Ellis Hall. She couldn’t bear the thought of her family knowing she had disgraced them once again. He smiled reassuringly and her pulse slowed a smidge.

She and Luke sat beside each other on the settee while Anthony remained standing.

“Earlier today I asked for your brother’s permission to marry you, and he was correct in withholding his consent.”

Gabby shot a glance at her brother, but his expression revealed nothing. She didn’t know how her brothers did it. Everything she felt showed on her face. It was quite unfair.

“In my zeal to become your husband,” Anthony said, “I forgot an important step to any union. A proper courtship.”

Luke’s frigid posture melted and the beginnings of a smile showed at the corners of his mouth. But Anthony wasn’t looking at her brother. He was watching her.

Pleasant warmth expanded in her chest.

“Therefore, my lady, I would very much like the opportunity to woo you as you deserve with flowers, rides in the park, and sweet words. May I have the honor of courting you, Lady Gabrielle?”

He wanted to court her, just as she had dreamed of many times. How could she refuse him?

She considered teasing him for his clichéd ideas on how to woo a woman, but in truth, she would welcome every overused romantic gesture recorded if it came from him. She wanted flowers, odes to her composed. She wanted trips to Gunter’s and sweet nothings whispered in her ear during the waltz. Most of all, she wanted to feel as cherished as the women who had come into her brothers’ lives, even if deep down she worried she didn’t deserve that kind of love.

Anthony sighed, reminding her that he was awaiting her answer.

“Yes, Lord Ellis, you may court me. But don’t think I will make it easy on you. If you insist upon wooing me, I expect you to be committed to seeing it through to the end.”

Luke chuckled and patted her hand. “That’s my girl. Well, Ellis. Do you agree to her terms?”

He nodded, a wide smile plastered across his face. “I do.”

“You may begin tomorrow.” Luke stood and offered her a hand up. She allowed her brother to escort her to the set of double doors but drew to a halt.

“May I see Lord Ellis out?”

“Don’t linger. There is no understanding yet.” Her brother patted her shoulder before leaving her in the foyer with Anthony.

Wesley brought his hat and cane forward, then discreetly retreated to another part of the house. She knew the butler wouldn’t go far, but she appreciated the small amount of privacy afforded them.

Anthony offered his arm, and when they reached the front door, he held her hand.

“Thank you for the flowers,” she said. “They are lovely.”

“I wasn’t sure you had received them.”

“I did.” Gabby looked down at the marble floor and contemplated the rust-colored veins. She felt unreasonably shy all of a sudden. The urge to ask why he insisted on courting her was on the tip of her tongue. He could have forced the issue if he truly wanted her by revealing what had happened between them at Ellis Hall.