The Wife He Always Wanted (10 page)

Within a half hour she confirmed Noelle’s assurance that in costume, and with being new to London, there was no chance of recognition. She even managed to return the smile of a passing man dressed as a glorified dandy.

“See,” Noelle said in her ear as the man was whisked away by a woman dressed as a shepherdess. “You just flirted.”

“Truly?”

“Truly,” Noelle replied. “An innocent miss would look away, lowering her eyes to discourage him from approaching. You met his gaze and smiled back. If not for the shepherdess clinging to his arm, I believe he would have stopped for conversation.”

“Who knew that a friendly smile could encourage a man’s attention?” Sarah puzzled over this. “If I allow a gentleman to kiss my hand, does that mean we are engaged?” she teased.

“Not quite,” Noelle said. “Though if a young woman allows herself to be taken into a darkened garden by a man, and is caught, no matter how innocent the encounter, she could very well be ruined. Unless her irate father can get the cad dragged before a parson before gossip spreads about her downfall from grace.”

“Hmmm. There are too many rules in your society.” Sarah glanced around the crowded room, taking care not to encourage any man to approach. “There should be a book for young ladies to carry in their pockets for guidance.”

“Most women are taught the rules from birth,” Mister Blackwell added. He nodded to a passing devil. “You’ll need years to catch up.”

With Noelle as her tutor, Sarah managed to laugh with the Blackwells’ friends and even attempted to flirt a bit with a pair of unattached men. Though it was awkward in presentation, neither of the men seemed to mind. They were both determined to see her unmasked and made a game of guessing her identity.

“If I tell you who I am then you will lose interest and I will be left bereft of your company,” Sarah said. She waved her fan. “You shall just have to wait for the unmasking.”

She knew they’d be gone before then and had no fear of losing her anonymity.

“Then at least you should allow me a dance,” the bolder of the two men pressed. “I do enjoy dancing.”

“I am afraid that I am not a very good dancer,” Sarah said with an exaggerated sigh. “The dance master has deemed me quite incompetent.”

The man was not about to be put off. He took her gloved hand as his companion moved off to find a partner of his own. “They are lining up for a country dance. There is little fear of you damaging my toes.”

With a nod from Mister Blackwell, Sarah accepted the invitation with a weak smile and was taken away to join the row of dancers.

* * *

W
hat have you done with my wife, Noelle?” Gabriel said as he closed in on Noelle and Blackwell. He’d arrived in time to see his wife taken away by a man dressed as what he assumed was the great lover Casanova.

Noelle startled and spun about. “Gabriel?”

Gabe pushed his mask up and glared. “I thought she was spending a quiet evening at your home. Imagine my surprise when I discover her here, in costume, carrying on with a pair of dandies, and clearly doing so with your permission.”

“She is not carrying on with anyone,” Noelle said, her tone brittle. “She is having fun. And since you seem perfectly content to leave her at home while you appear here without her, I have taken it upon myself to see that she gets out and enjoys herself as a woman of her young age should.”

“She has a point, Harrington,” Blackwell said. “I assure you that your wife is perfectly safe.”

Gabe stared at Sarah, who was smiling at her partner as he led her through the dance. Though she was not as polished as the other dancers, she did manage a respectable job of the steps.

“If she wanted to go out, she could have said so,” Gabe grumbled. For some reason he could not fathom, it irked him to see her with another man. “I would have escorted her.”

“As your duty, not because you wanted to,” Noelle snapped, drawing his attention back to her. “You barely notice her. So as you can see, she does not have that problem with other men. They genuinely enjoy her company.”

His eyes flicked back to his wife. Over the course of the last few weeks, she’d put on some weight and had lost some of her skittishness, though he suspected this evening’s newfound confidence had less to do with a change in her personality and more to do with the mask covering her face. She did appear quite comfortable in this setting.

“How I treat my wife is none of your concern,” he said. He’d not have Noelle interfering in his marriage.

“You are correct. It is
you
who needs to concern yourself with your wife.” Noelle took her husband’s arm. “Sarah gains confidence every day. Soon enough, it will be you who is standing in the background while she lives a life without you.”

With that, the Blackwells drifted off.

Was he that much of a cad? He’d not mistreated Sarah, nor had he done anything to harm her. He’d fulfilled his promise to Albert, had he not? Why then did Noelle’s words send a sharp poker right into his gut?

Because she was correct, damn her. His parents had also said as much. They all thought him failing as a husband.

Though he’d planned to eventually seduce his wife, he’d not thought of how he’d treat her outside of bed. Damn his years away from society. He was most unprepared to act like a doting husband.

Truthfully, he
had
been neglectful.

Gabe knew there was much more to this marriage business than just what happened between the sheets. His parents had been the example of what a loving couple should be. However, he and Sarah were not a loving couple. They knew very little about each other and, well, he was not wildly mad for her like his father was for Mother.

She was little Sarah. Albert’s sister. Why could he not move past thinking of her as such? Worse, from the moment they’d taken their vows, he’d considered himself shackled with an unwanted wife, as if she forced him into the marriage.

Shamed, he vowed again to do something to change his thinking. She was his wife after all. Guilt and regret had no place anymore. Sarah did not deserve an absent husband.

Glancing to where she’d last been, he saw Casanova escort her off the dance floor. Determined to remove Sarah from the clutches of the dandy, and to spend the rest of the evening dancing in attendance to her, he pulled his mask back down and went to stalk his wife.

Chapter Nine

S
arah smiled politely when her partner asked if he could bring her punch. “Thank you, no,” she said and withdrew her hand from his arm. The man was already too eager to impress her with his wealth, properties, and connections to the royal family. It was his want to blather on about these things in hopes of impressing her. Instead, she struggled not to yawn behind her hand.

She wanted to return to Noelle and Gavin. They were much more interesting.

“Would you care to dance again?” Casanova pressed. The man certainly was not timid. If only she could admit to being a married woman and send him on his way.

“I fear my feet are tired.” Annoyance welled. He was beginning to turn from eager to downright pushy. “I think I shall sit out the next dance.”

“Then I shall escort you back,” he said and reached for her arm. Sarah stepped back to avoid contact.

“That will not be necessary.” She held up a hand and said firmly, “I am quite capable of finding my way around a ballroom.”

“Yes, however—” His protest was cut off by the approach of a man in black. The stranger was not overly tall, and a mask covered most of his face. He carried himself with aplomb as he crossed toward them. When he drew close, Sarah felt a shiver crawl down her spine. His gray eyes were flat and cold, his thin lips curled into a smirk.

“Your Lordship.” Casanova dipped into a bow.

“Brightman.” The stranger greeted her partner, but his attention was on her. As with his eyes, his voice held no warmth. “You must introduce me to this enchanting young woman.”

Casanova’s, or rather, Brightman’s, shoulders slumped.

Clearly, whatever this stranger’s identity, he was at a level or two above her partner. Brightman took a half step back from her as if the more dominant wolf had arrived to lay claim on the choicest sheep.

“We have not been introduced, Your Lordship,” Brightman said, his voice quavering. “It is a masque and the Lady’s face is covered.”

A pair of hard gray eyes skimmed over her, both insulting in unspoken tone and sending an unnerving feeling through Sarah. She took an instant dislike to the stranger.

“Indeed,” said the man in black. He touched his tongue to his bottom lip. “She is a mystery.”

Sarah wanted to slap the smug smirk off his face.

“And she has promised me the next dance,” a gruff voice came from behind her, rising just above the din, and without a trace of politeness in the tone.

Sarah felt a hand close over her elbow. Before she could turn her head to see the source of the comment, she was rudely whisked off toward the dance floor. She had to all but run to keep up with his long strides.

“Sir, please!” She tried to dislodge her arm without drawing too much attention, but his grip held fast. It was when she was spun about and pulled into a pair of strong arms, and she caught his spicy scent, that she realized that it was Gabriel who’d spirited her away.

Exasperated over the rough handling, she gritted her teeth and spat out, “Must you be rude? I was having a perfectly pleasant conversation with the man in black.”

The lie soured in her mouth, but she wasn’t about to tell her overbearing husband that she was relieved with the rescue.

Gabriel’s grip tightened as the orchestra struck up a waltz. “The man in black is Lord Pembrook, the worst sort of scoundrel. He is not the sort with whom my wife should associate.”

Was there a touch of jealousy in his words? Likely not. He’d have to care in order to feel that emotion.

She dragged her gaze over him and admired what she saw. It was impossible not to. Dressed in black himself, but for an azure blue waistcoat, Gabriel was drawing more than a few feminine stares; not just hers.

Despite the mask, his handsome face was hard to hide completely, and his fine form was enough to set several fans fluttering as eyes followed him everywhere.

The proprietary envy was her curse, not his. She did not like the attention he was getting.

“If left up to you, husband, I would associate with no one outside of your family,” she snapped. Her patience was at an end. “I may have lived a mostly solitary life in my cottage, but I did occasionally manage to see a friendly face in the village.” He whirled her around the floor. When she trod upon his toes, drawing a masculine grunt, the misstep was not entirely accidental. “If my social interactions were left up to you, I’d be spending many hours counting the clock ticktocks while staring at the ceiling.”

Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “Mother promised to introduce you to a few friends, and you will be formally launched at the Hollybrooks’ ball. After, you will not have a moment to yourself. The invitations will come at an alarming rate.”

“The ball is two weeks away and I am still fearful of being thrown into such a large crowd for my first foray into society,” Sarah countered. “Noelle, Laura, and I thought it best for me to try out my lessons under the protection of a disguise.”

He expelled a harsh breath between gritted teeth. “And neither you nor your conspirators thought to ask my opinion before you snuck off like a thief in the darkness?”

Her spine tingled. “I did not sneak off. You were informed that I was spending the evening with Noelle, and I am.”

“You left me believing that you were having a quiet visit at home,” he said tightly.

“I certainly did not,” she said. “You assumed as much.”

For a moment, they fell silent. Gabriel expertly managed the waltz, despite years of little practice. Sarah’s second and third toe-trod
were
accidental. Still, she offered no apology.

They did not speak again until the dance ended. His glare kept another potential partner at bay. The poor man took one look at her angry partner and scurried away.

“You have not explained your presence here, Gabriel,” she said. “Are you seeking out a new mistress?”

Before their argument drew attention, Gabriel led her to the patio and into a quiet corner. He ignored her accusation. This did not reassure her.

“From now forward, if you wish to go out, I will escort you. I’ll not have you wandering loose without supervision. You have only recently become my wife and your lessons are incomplete. We’ll not risk your reputation on your ill-conceived whims. Mistakes will embarrass both you and my family.”

Ill-conceived whims? Embarrass the Harringtons? Fire burned through her. She faced him squarely and tapped her toe.

“I am not a slobbering idiot,” she ground out. “I can make polite conversation, manage proper fan waving, and am well-schooled in how to use the correct spoon . . . though I do loudly slurp my soup and wipe my mouth on my sleeve. Thank goodness they are not serving soup at this ball or I
would
shame the Harringtons down to their collective toes.”

Was that a smile beneath his mask?

Sarah wanted to slap it from his face.

“Now you are being silly,” he said. “I have never seen you slobber.”

“Silly, impulsive, and an embarrassment?” Her voice rose. She crossed her arms. “You forgot plain, dull, improper, and impertinent. Is there anything I missed?”

“Sarah.”

“No.” She held her palms up and open. “You have not spent enough time with me since our wedding to dare make an opinion about my nature. However, I certainly know you. You are arrogant, boorish, and rude. You think only of yourself and nothing about the feelings of others.”

“You have discovered all this about me in a matter of days, have you?”

“I have,” she snapped. “Given another week, I should have a full list of your faults by which to confirm my conclusion.”

Full of fire, she wanted to continue the argument but thought the location less than ideal. Instead she turned on her heel with the intention to leave him cooling his toes alone on the patio with her sarcasm ringing in his ears.

He had another idea. With a quick grasp of her arm, Gabriel spun her about and jerked her into his arms. She gasped as his mouth slammed down over hers.

Heat rushed into her body as he forced apart her lips and plunged his tongue into her mouth. Her shock turned to passion with a moan, and then shifted quickly to anger. How dare he give her a first real kiss after insulting her with his cutting words? How dare her body respond with interest when her mind was so outraged?

With a shove, she pushed back. He released her. “Do not ever kiss me again,” she said through gritted teeth and stalked away.

* * *

G
abe waited until Sarah was out of hearing range and chuckled. Not ever kiss her again? Ha. Their kiss, as brief as it was, had been delightful. Her passion, peaked in part by her outrage, had certainly made his body take notice.

When had his wife become such a termagant? This had to be Noelle’s influence. Yet, he found that despite her newly discovered desire to ruffle him up, there was something intriguing about having a wife who looked him squarely in the eyes and spoke her mind.

And Sarah had spoken her mind, quite elegantly in fact; without stammering, blushing, or looking at the floor. Who knew she was such a perceptive young woman. He
was
arrogant, boorish at times, and the other things she cast at his head.

He’d proven them all tonight. For good reason.

Finding his wife at the ball had raised his ire. Seeing her speaking with Lord Pembrook had both angered and alarmed him. Sarah was far too innocent and trusting to see through to the black heart of a man like Pembrook. Too many innocents had fallen to ruin in his bed.

Then, another thought came to mind. Perhaps he’d misjudged Sarah. She’d discovered courage, or perhaps she’d had it all along and just needed to bring it to the fore. And she
was
intriguing in her costume. The weight she’d gained suited her. She no longer looked like a starved chicken.

There was no reason for her not to draw male interest. She was both lovely and interesting. Despite her accusation, he’d never found her dull or anything else she’d claimed.

He truly needed to pay closer attention to his bride or he would lose her to another man. Fire burned in his stomach at the idea of another man kissing, and bedding, his wife.

The taste of her lips had stirred him. What other interesting things might he discover in his blossoming rose?

Gabe grinned. He should take her home and work some of the sass out of her, in his bed. However, he wasn’t quite ready to press the issue. He wanted to give her more time to gain solid footing, for although she’d set him in his place and did not flinch away from his touch, he suspected that she was not quite ready for the intimacies of marriage. If he pressed her now, it might be a repeat of their wedding night.

The best he could do was to tempt her, tease her, and wait for her to come to him. She had kissed him in his bath. It was the first sign of affection that she’d shown him. He wondered how long it might take her to find her own way to his bedroom.

* * *

N
oelle’s face was concerned when Sarah returned to the ballroom. She took Sarah’s hand. “Was Gabe cross with you?”

Sarah nodded. “He was.” She peered over her shoulder. Gabriel was not in sight. “He was not pleased with my presence here and told me so.”

“What did you say?” Noelle asked. Mister Blackwell stood nearby, talking to a tall man in a red coat.

“I told him that I was not about to sit inside Harrington House and collect dust. I should be allowed to test my wings in this setting and did not need his permission to do so. I also called him rude and arrogant.”

Noelle rubbed her palms together. “Brava, country mouse!” she exclaimed then lowered her voice when several pairs of eyes turned in their direction. She pressed her gloved hand over her mouth, her eyes amused. “I am certain that your husband was not pleased to have his wife argue for her freedom . . . and insult him, too.”

Sarah scanned the crowd and caught a brief glimpse of Gabriel entering the room. Just as quickly, he vanished again in the crush. “Truthfully, I am not sure what he is thinking. We argued and then he kissed me. Hard. It was no chaste kiss.”

Amber eyes widened. “He kissed you?” She reached out and drew Sarah back to the wall and out of earshot of a group of women lingering nearby. “He really kissed you?”

A slow smile tugged up the corners of Sarah’s mouth. “He did.” She flushed as heat crept up her body. “It was no innocent kiss. My body still hums from it.”

“What then did you do?”

“I told him to never kiss me again.”

Bubbling laughter spilled from Noelle. “You did not?”

“I did.” A moment of worry overcame her and her smile faded. “Did I do the right thing? What if he takes my words to heart and never tries another kiss?”

“Nonsense,” Noelle interjected. “You have just issued him a challenge that he, as a man, will not be able to ignore. He will be driven to kiss you again and again.”

“Truly?” This was an intriguing turn.

“Yes, truly. As I explained before, men do love to chase women for sport. They are hunters. It’s in their blood. If we make it too easy for them then they get bored and turn to more challenging prey.”

Prey? “You make it sound calculating.”

Noelle patted her arm. “Not in the least.” She glanced over at Mister Blackwell. “I did not like Gavin when we first met. I wanted no part of him, but he was a bold man. He would not accept my indifference. Now we cannot be apart.”