The Lady Forfeits (17 page)

Felicity was as delightful as Gabriel had led Diana to believe; a beautiful and vivacious woman who, although sorely tried emotionally for so many years, had quickly recovered her full spirits once she was no longer being plagued with heavy doses of laudanum and could enjoy the return of her son. She was also overjoyed to learn of his inheritance of the title and estates of the Earl of Westbourne.

Forbidden by Gabriel to so much as mention either
of the Prescotts to his mother, Diana often took refuge in discussing Shoreley Park with the older woman as a means of avoiding talking about more personal subjects. Something that had not proved too difficult to do when it emerged that Gabriel, no doubt for reasons of his own, had so far not told Felicity of their betrothal; as far as his mother was concerned, Diana was only the eldest of her son’s wards.

Perhaps he had every intention of being asked to be released from that betrothal once they were back in London? She couldn’t help wondering miserably. If that were to happen then not one, but two men would have passed her over as their choice for a wife; Malcolm because he had met and wooed a woman who could bring wealth rather than a title to their marriage, and Gabriel because their betrothal had only ever been a matter of convenience to him from the first. A betrothal he obviously no longer found convenient or necessary.

The more Diana’s thoughts dwelt on those two rejections the angrier she became. How dare they? How dare those men discard her as if she were no more than a pair of boots that no longer fit them comfortably? Quite when Gabriel intended to ask her officially to release him from their betrothal she had no idea, but the past five days, spent in an agony of emotions, meant that she now had plenty of things she wished to say to him once he did decide to do so. So many, in fact, that she had no idea whether she would be able to stop that flow of words once they had begun.

‘You seem pensive, my dear?’

Diana turned from gazing out of the window to look across the carriage at Felicity. ‘I am sorry if I am being
less than companionable, but there is a slight family…disturbance, which occupies all of my thoughts at present.’ Not completely true, when what she wished to say to Gabriel kept her so mentally exhausted, but the nearer they came to London the more her thoughts returned to her missing sister Elizabeth. They had received no news at Faulkner Manor on that subject, from either Caroline or Lord Vaughn, and so Diana could only assume that Elizabeth was still missing. Lost and alone somewhere in this noisy, smelly metropolis…

More than anything she now wished to return to Shoreley Park, if only to lick her wounds in private; something she could not do until they had found and returned Elizabeth to the safety of their family.

Felicity’s kind face softened in understanding. ‘Gabriel has explained to me the…situation—’ she glanced at Diana’s maid also seated in the carriage with them, ‘—concerning your sister.’

Her eyes widened. ‘He has?’

‘Oh, yes.’ The older woman smiled. ‘Gabriel takes his role as guardian to you and your sisters very seriously indeed.’

His role as her guardian…

When Diana wanted so much more from him! She wanted a return of the man who had made such beautiful love to her five nights ago and she still wanted to become his wife, in the hopes that he might one day come to truly care for her.

As she truly cared for him…

Her feelings for Gabriel were something she had not questioned too often these past few days. Love, once acknowledged, even to oneself, could no longer be
ignored, so she refused to look deeply enough into her feelings to know whether or not it was love she felt for him. Besides, surely if she
were
in love with him, she would not also feel this overwhelming urge to pummel her fists upon his chest whilst calling him a long list of names that would no doubt be more suited to coming from the lips of a fisherman’s wife?

‘I appreciate his concern,’ she replied tightly.

His mother looked wistful. ‘I wish you could have known him before any of this unpleasantness occurred. He was so much kinder then, so generous with his affections.’ She shook her head sadly.

And in return for that kindness and generosity of affection, he had been disinherited and banished by his family and society. Was it any wonder that he had become the hard and cynical man he was today? she thought. ‘He is still kind and generous in his affections towards you,’ Diana pointed out.

‘Oh, he is.’ Deep-blue eyes, so like her son’s, became awash with unshed tears. ‘I only wish… My husband was not really such a hard or unforgiving man, Diana. It pained him so much to be that way with Gabriel. I am sure, if Neville had lived longer, that he and Gabriel would have eventually made their peace with each other.’

Diana knew that mother and son had visited his father’s grave together before they’d departed. Gabriel’s expression had been one of such grim emotion on his return to the house that Diana had not dared to so much as speak to him before he’d disappeared into his father’s study and had not reappeared again until it was time for dinner two hours later, his demeanour then still so remote that she had felt it best to leave him to his own reflections.

She reached across the carriage now to squeeze the other woman’s hand. ‘I am sure of it, too.’

Felicity shook off her sadness. ‘Now I am come to London and am to become reacquainted with your Aunt Humphries. Dorothea and I were such firm friends in our youth, you know,’ she confided warmly.

Diana smiled. ‘So she has told me.’

‘Not all, I am sure.’ Felicity looked far less than her fifty-two years as she smiled mischievously. ‘Dorothea was considered something of an Original, you know.’

‘Aunt Humphries was?’ Diana could not hide her surprise at this disclosure; her aunt had always given the impression of being just a little shy of prudish.

‘Oh, yes,’ Felicity said. ‘In truth, all of the
ton
was surprised when she accepted the offer of Captain Humphries, not only a man so much older than her, but one who could also be very stern on occasion.’

‘I believe they were very happy in their marriage.’

‘Oh, I do so hope they were!’ Felicity’s concern for her old friend’s happiness was sincere. ‘I truly cannot wait to see Dorothea again and catch up on all that has happened in her life these past thirty years.’

And Diana would be just as happy to be relieved of the company; the nearer they had come to London the more difficult it had become for her to hide her true feelings towards Gabriel from his mother. Especially when she did not understand that confusing mix of anger, warmth and despair herself!

Gabriel was tired, stiff and not a little bad-tempered as he stepped down from Maximilian’s broad back before handing the reins to one of the grooms who had
hurried round from the stables of Westbourne House to greet them.

The first of two discomforts was caused from the many hours he had spent in the saddle, and the latter from an ever-increasing frustration with Diana’s recent avoidance of even making polite conversation with him on the few occasions they had been together.

He had hoped—a complete arrogance on his part, no doubt—that with time she might come to feel more warmly towards him again; instead her manner had become cooler with each day that had passed, to the point she now seemed to avoid his company altogether whenever possible.

The stigma of his past so-called scandal had not deterred her from agreeing to marry him—no doubt the kindness of her nature meant she had seen him as a lost soul in need of saving. Learning that the wife of his uncle was the woman from his past had not shaken her composure for too long, either. No, it seemed that discovering Gabriel’s pride and arrogance had resulted in his mother’s misery and incarceration had finally been too much for the sensitive and kind-hearted Diana to bear. After all, he thought unhappily, it was that very same arrogance that had initially prompted him to propose to whichever of the Copeland sisters would have him.

‘You are returned at last, Diana!’

The two ladies barely had time to step down from the carriage before the front door of Westbourne House was thrown open and an excited Caroline ran lightly down the steps to greet her sister with an enthusiasm that attested to their deep affection for each other.

‘Mrs Faulkner.’ Caroline curtsied politely once Diana had made the introductions. ‘My lord.’ Caroline’s tone cooled slightly as she turned to give him a brief nod of acknowledgement.

No change there, then, Gabriel acknowledged ruefully as he joined the ladies and returned her nod. Even Dominic’s championing of Gabriel could not change Caroline’s opinion that he was not in the least good enough for her beloved sister.

An opinion Gabriel now shared.

‘It is so good to have you back with us in London.’ Caroline linked her arm through her sister’s as the three ladies preceded Gabriel up the steps to the house. ‘And you will never guess who else has come to town?’ Her eyes sparkled a deep sea-green as she looked at Diana excitedly.

‘I am sure I do not need to guess when you are obviously in such a lather to tell me,’ she returned drily.

‘Malcolm Castle!’ Caroline did exactly that, her face aglow with the enormity of the announcement. ‘He called for the first time four days ago, and he has been back every day since in the hopes of learning that you are returned from Cambridgeshire!’

Gabriel’s step faltered as he overheard this news, his heart sinking as he realised the significance of this information. Had that young man now realised his mistake and come in search of Diana in the hopes of renewing his courtship?

‘I
trust you are not going to be difficult about releasing my sister from your betrothal?’

Gabriel closed his eyes briefly before opening them again, the return to the neat view of the garden outside the study window doing little to soothe the blackness of his mood. How could it, when every time he looked out at this garden he would remember that it was Diana who had instructed the gardeners on how she wanted it to appear? Everything about this house had been lovingly restored to its former glory under her instruction—

‘Are you deaf, my lord, or merely choosing to ignore me?’

Just as Caroline would always and for evermore be Diana’s champion! That would prove awkward for all of them if—
when
Gabriel’s betrothal to Diana came to an end, and Caroline and Dominic were married.

He turned slowly, his expression remaining impassive as he took in the flushed irritation on Caroline’s beautiful face as she glared across the room at him.
‘I am neither deaf nor ignoring you, Caroline,’ he said silkily.

‘Well?’

‘Well what?

She stepped into the study before closing the door firmly behind her. ‘Is it your intention to release Diana from your betrothal without undo fuss?’

Gabriel’s mouth compressed. ‘To my knowledge, your sister has made no such request of me.’

Those sea-green eyes widened. ‘But surely you must know that she will do so?’

‘Must I?’ he said evasively.

She scowled at him. ‘I do not believe you to be either stupid or insensitive.’

‘I am gratified to hear it!’

She gave an impatient snort. ‘You are being deliberately obtuse—’

‘On the contrary, my dear, Caroline, I am trying—and obviously not succeeding—to understand what business it is of yours how or indeed
if
my betrothal to Diana should come to an end.’ He looked witheringly at her.

True to character, Caroline did not back down in the slightest. ‘It became my business, my lord, the moment my sister, a woman who never cries, only minutes ago began to sob in my arms as if her heart would break!’

Those words were like a sword wound in Gabriel’s own chest. He and Diana had parted just over an hour ago, she to go upstairs with her sister, Gabriel to see to his mother’s safe delivery to the comfort of her bed-chamber where, to his mother’s obvious delight, Alice Britton was waiting to welcome her, which Gabriel had
arranged whilst still at the Manor. The joy on his mother’s face as the two women were reunited was enough to show him in that, at least, he had acted correctly.

Just as he would have to do by releasing Diana from their betrothal?

Diana had assured him when they’d agreed to marry that there was not even the possibility of her ever reuniting with Castle. But it had been a denial she had made in the abstract, in the confidence that it would never happen; her distressed state at learning Castle wished to see her again was evidence of her true feelings in the matter.

Caroline eyed him warily. ‘Does it not bother you in the least to learn that Diana is inconsolable?’

He drew his breath in sharply at the mere thought of her in such an agony of emotions. ‘Of course it bothers me!’ A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘I am insulted that you might think it would not. I assure you I have no wish to ever cause Diana the slightest discomfort.’

Those sea-green eyes widened in shock. ‘I believe you really mean that,’ she said wonderingly.

Gabriel scowled. ‘I find the disbelief in your tone positively insulting.’

Her expression became quizzical. ‘You seem changed since last we spoke, Gabriel.’

His expression became guarded. ‘Changed how?’

‘Less forceful. Less unyielding. Certainly less arrogant,’ she added with a teasing smile.

‘Really?’ Gabriel rallied drily. ‘I am sure your sister will be gratified to hear it!’

‘As are we all,’ she responded. ‘I trust that you
will
speak with her then?’

He nodded. ‘You may.’

His expression became grimmer still once she had departed the study, as he contemplated the upcoming—but very necessary—conversation with her elder sister.

‘Has that cushion offended you in some way?’

Diana stiffened at the first sound of Gabriel’s voice, turning sharply now from where she sat on the
chaise
to see him standing in the open doorway of her bed-chamber, dark brows raised over mocking blue eyes.

He had changed from his dusty travelling clothes and now wore a dark-blue superfine, a lighter-blue waistcoat, beige pantaloons and shiny black Hessians, the darkness of his hair still slightly damp from his ablutions.

His very physical presence took her breath away. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You appear to be shredding the tassels on that cushion,’ he drawled as he stepped into the room. ‘I felt sure it must have offended you in some way.’

Diana looked down at the cushion she cradled on her knees, having had no idea it was even there until he’d brought it to her attention. Or that she had pulled so agitatedly on the silk tassels at its corner that the majority of those silks now lay in a tangle beside her on the blue-velvet
chaise
.

She hurriedly placed the cushion down on top of that tangle before standing up. ‘What can I do for you, my lord?’

What, alone together in her bedchamber, could she
not
do for him? He wondered in despair. The ache he felt becoming a physical discomfort as he hardened with the need to take her in his arms and finally make proper love to her.

A totally ridiculous desire when the evidence of her recent tears was there in the heavy darkness of her eyes and the dampness of her creamy cheeks. When her mouth, those full and kissable lips, seemed to tremble slightly before she set them firmly together and raised her chin to present him once more with that familiar air of cool composure.

Gabriel moved to stand before the window that looked out over the square at the front of the house. ‘You must be pleased to find yourself back in London?’ he commented.

Must she? Why must she? Diana could think of absolutely no reason, other than continuing the search for Elizabeth—a sister who obviously had no wish to be found!

Nor did she appreciate him seeing her in this way, the evidence of her tears no doubt apparent to him. Although she was firm in her resolve that he should never know the reason for them: because she was so certain that, now that they were back in London, he would waste no time in ending their betrothal.

Her back straightened as if her body was in preparation for a blow. ‘It is certainly pleasant to be united with at least one of my sisters.’

Gabriel turned to face her. ‘I assure you that Vaughn and I will continue our search for Elizabeth, leaving no stone unturned.’

‘I implied no criticism of either you or Lord Vaughn, my lord,’ she said quickly.

The sunlight shining in the window behind him gave his hair a blue-black sheen, and threw the grimness of his expression into shadow. ‘No?’ He quirked one dark brow. ‘Then perhaps there should have been. Dominic has obviously been unsuccessful this past week, whilst I have been deeply occupied with other matters.’

She gave an acknowledging inclination of her head. ‘I perfectly understood that the continuing welfare of your mother was of greater importance to you at that time.’

A frown creased his brow. ‘It is a part of the warmth and caring of your nature to always be so concerned with the happiness of others.’

Was it? She was no longer sure. How could she be, when at this moment it was thoughts of her own unhappiness that consumed her? When the certainty of Gabriel having come here to ask her to release him from their betrothal made her feel as if her heart were shattering into so many pieces she might never be able to put it back together again?

She loved him…

Diana could deny it no longer. Could ignore it no longer. She was irrevocably in love with Lord Gabriel Faulkner, the Earl of Westbourne. The knowledge that Malcolm Castle had reappeared in her life had suddenly crystallised her feelings sharply for her. The only man in the world for her was Gabriel and a huge tidal wave of emotions swept over her every time she so much as looked at him. She wanted to reach out and touch him.
To be gathered into his arms and kissed by him. To be held by him and know that he would never let her go.

When letting her go was no doubt exactly what he had come here to do…

She could see it in the dark regret in his eyes, in the resignation of his expression, in his restlessness of movement as he began to pace her bedchamber. No doubt seeking, searching, for the appropriate words in which to tell her he no longer wished to marry her.

It was a further indignity Diana found she could not even bear to contemplate. She drew herself up proudly, her face pale. ‘I believe it is the correct procedure in situations such as ours for the lady to be seen to end the betrothal?’

Gabriel drew in a sharp breath before once again turning to stare sightlessly out of the window, an icy chill filling his chest at finally hearing her ask to be released from her promise to him. At the thought of having to stand back and watch as she gave all of the warmth and caring of her nature into the keeping of someone else. Of having to witness her marrying another man—even to give her away in church!

Gabriel had entered into their engagement without a care as to which of the Copeland sisters should accept his offer of marriage in the erroneous belief that one young woman would do equally as well as another. He now knew just how totally false that was. There was no other woman like Diana. No other woman with her warmth and tenderness of heart. Her loyalty. Her care for duty. As for her courage—he believed she would challenge the devil himself, if she had need to, and never count the cost to herself.

Because it was what Diana did. What she had done unstintingly for the past ten years, for her family and others, regardless of her own happiness. And it was what she would no doubt continue to do if he did not agree to release her from their betrothal…

He could not ask that of her. Would not ask that of her.

How painfully ironic that he, a man who had lived the last few years of his life with almost complete disregard for the feelings of others, could not bear to be the reason that Diana should suffer even another moment of unhappiness.

He turned to give her a stiff nod of agreement, lids lowered guardedly over any emotion in his eyes. ‘I will see to placing the announcement in the newspapers tomorrow, or the day after at the very latest, if that will suit?’ No doubt he would have to place another announcement in those newspapers a day or so after that, this time announcing Diana’s betrothal to that cur Castle!

Her eyes were a deep and shadowed blue in the pallor of her face. ‘I would appreciate that, my lord.’

He nodded tersely. ‘Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me?’

What else could there possibly be? she wondered numbly. Gabriel no longer wanted her as his wife or anything else—what else could possibly have any meaning? All the things she had longed to say to him this past five days, the anger and hurt that had been steadily building inside her, had all dissolved into sheer numbness at the occurrence of the very thing she had been dreading.

The end of their engagement. There was nothing else—only an unending agony of emotions that threatened to bring Diana to her knees. She needed him to leave so she could break down and cry without him knowing. ‘There is nothing else I wish to say, my lord,’ she lied woodenly.

‘Very well.’ He walked to the door.

Suddenly, confusingly, Diana could not bear to see him leave. ‘You—it was very kind of you to arrange for Miss Britton to be here to welcome your mother.’

He came to a halt and turned with a humourless smile. ‘You did not believe me capable of kindness?’

She looked appalled. ‘I—that’s not what I meant! I know that you are.’

His mouth twisted. ‘Just not where you are concerned?’

She swore she could hear her heart breaking ‘I consider it a great kindness to have released me from our betrothal,’ she choked.

‘So it is.’ His nostrils flared as his mouth thinned, the expression in the dark blue of his eyes now unreadable. ‘If you will excuse me, Diana, I really am very busy.’ He left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

As firmly as Diana knew that his heart was, and ever would be, closed to her.

‘You are going out?’

Diana came to a halt in the cavernous hallway of Westbourne House the following morning, turning away from where Soames stood ready to open the front door for her own and her maid’s departure, to instead face Gabriel as he stood framed in the doorway of his study, know
ing that the bonnet and burgundy-coloured pelisse she wore over her cream-and-burgundy-coloured sprigged-muslin gown should have been evidence enough of her going out. ‘I intended to go to the shops, my lord,’ she nevertheless answered him coolly. ‘Your mother is perfectly happy in the company of my aunt and Alice, if that is your concern?’

Gabriel was well aware of his mother’s preoccupation, both with the return of her companion, and the reunion with her old friend Dorothea Humphries—a woman he had finally been introduced to yesterday and who seemed to view him more kindly now that he had brought her friend home with him.

Even if he had not been aware of his mother’s happiness, his immediate concern was not for his mother, but more for the chasm that had only widened between himself and Diana since they had agreed to end to their betrothal last night.

‘Perhaps we might talk in private for a few minutes before you go out?’ he asked softly.

That was the very last thing she wished to do, especially as he was looking more devastatingly handsome than usual in a fashionable superfine of chocolate brown, a gold-and-cream waistcoat buttoned over the flatness of his stomach, with cream pantaloons and brown Hessians fitting snugly to the muscled length of his legs.

She swallowed before answering. ‘Can it not wait until I have returned, my lord?’

He frowned slightly. ‘I would rather it be now.’