When Love Is Enough (8 page)

"Does that include the Marquess of Culbertson?"

She didn’t even try to keep the haughty tone from her voice. "Of course. In fact, except for a short journey Geoffery took a few weeks ago, I have been with him each night this whole month."

"How fortunate for you."

She smiled. "Yes. Last night we attended the theatre and the night before a musicale at Lady Plunkett’s. And tonight, of course, we’re going to—"

Lydia stopped. Gabriel’s hand had dropped to his thigh and he clutched the muscles above his knee as if he’d been attacked. "Are you all right? Do you need something for the pain?"

"No, it will ease soon," he gasped, then rubbed the area harder. "It just chooses the most inopportune times to...remind me it’s there."

She looked at his face. He was unbelievably pale. Her heart increased its steady pounding in her chest. She rose to her feet and poured some liquid from the only decanter on the bedside table into a glass. It wasn’t the wine she remembered Austin using with the laudanum. This looked and smelled more like whiskey but maybe it worked better. "Where do you keep the laudanum?"

"I don’t need...any," he said on a gasp.

He breathed heavier as his hand kneaded the top of his leg.

"You most certainly do." She yanked open first one drawer then another, searching for the small brown bottle she remembered. "Where is it?"

"I’ve had it...removed."

"Why?"

The corners of his mouth lifted as he attempted to smile through the pain. "You’ve obviously never been under the opiate’s influence or you’d...know. It’s not something...I could afford to continue to take...any longer."

"Then what do you take for the pain?"

"You have it in your hand."

Lydia poured a generous amount into the glass and handed it to him. He reached for the liquor with one hand but continued to rub his thigh with the other. His hand trembled.

"Here, let me." She held the glass to his lips.

He took two swallows then pushed the glass away.

"Enough, or I’ll be in my cups before lunch."

She tried to smile but couldn’t. He was in pain. Heavy beads of perspiration formed on his forehead and taut lines creased either side of his mouth.

An agonizing knot pinched the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t bear to see him in such agony. The torture she saw on his face was unbearable. She dropped to her knees in front of him and massaged his thigh.

For several long minutes they both worked his muscles. Her hand burned from the contact. She knew touching him would be her undoing. It was.

His gasping breaths battled with hers, his nostrils flared as he fought the pain.

She worked as furiously as she could, pressing, rubbing, grinding, kneading. From his knee to high on his thigh she ministered to erase the grimacing pain on his face.

Her body flamed from a heat that was part exertion, part desire. She recognized the difference and fought to keep the two in balance. She lost the battle.

With rigid determination, she leaned into him and pressed harder. His hands pressed atop hers. A wave of heat more intense engulfed every inch of her body, spiraling from where his hands connected to hers, to the pit of her stomach – then lower.

In unison they circled the knotted muscles until the hardness eased. In unison they rode the waves of turmoil that ended when Gabriel sank back against the cushioned chair and dropped his hands to his side.

He slowly held out one trembling hand as a signal.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked, lifting her gaze to look at him.

"I think you should never have started," Harrison’s harsh-sounding voice said from behind them.

Lydia looked over her shoulder to see her brother, Harrison, standing in the doorway - with the Duke of Chisolmwood.

___

Gabriel moved his gaze from the woman kneeling at his feet. He knew if he looked at Harrison he’d see anger at finding his sister here. But he wasn’t interested in Harrison’s reaction. He focused his gaze instead on the bastard who’d ruined his life a year ago, a man he’d hoped never to see again.

The two faced each other, the duke as pompous and arrogant as he’d been the day he’d taken away everything that was important to him. Except this time was worse. This time he wasn’t even able to rise to his feet to face him at an equal level.

"Lady Lydia," Chisolmwood said, turning his attention to where Lydia stood, still close to Gabriel’s chair.

Gabriel took satisfaction in Liddy’s reaction. She faced Chisolmwood with her head held high and not a hint of embarrassment or guilt on her face.

"Good day, Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise."

"Is it?" the duke answered with condescending politeness.

"Of course. I wasn’t expecting callers."

"That much is obvious. You can imagine my surprise at finding you here alone in the major’s room."

Gabriel gripped the arms of the chair. He was prepared to come to Lydia’s defense but stopped when he saw her back straighten and her shoulders lift.

"I’m hardly alone," she said, nodding to where Hannah now stood beside her chair. "My maid has been with me the entire time."

"I hardly consider servants proper chaperones." Chisolmwood stepped into the room, his pace slow and menacing. "And neither will most of Society." He locked his hands behind his back. "The last thing I will abide is a scandal involving the woman my son intends to marry."

"I assure you," Harrison said, "that no improprieties have occurred between my sister and Major Talbot."

"Of course they haven’t," the duke answered, the glare in his eyes icy cold. "We all know how disastrous that would be. For everyone." He turned toward Harrison. "Especially you, Etherington."

Fire flashed in Harrison’s eyes. His hands clenched to tight fists.

"Harrison?" Lydia stepped toward her brother. Several deep frown lines etched her brow. "I’m not sure I understand."

Gabriel clamped his fingers around the arm of the chair and struggled to keep from rising. If he were strong enough to make it to his feet, he’d hit the bloody bastard. And hitting him once wouldn’t be enough.

He was afraid he wouldn’t stop until he was dead.

Harrison dropped his gaze to his sister. "It’s all right, Liddy."

The duke recovered smoothly. "Yes, there’s nothing to concern yourself with, my dear. Just suffice it to say that we all understand how important it is to avoid even the slightest misunderstanding. And how imperative it is for you and my son to announce your betrothal. Soon."

Chisolmwood smiled at Lydia. "Perhaps avoiding the major altogether would eliminate any disaster and give you and my son ample time to make a decision."

"Of course," Lydia agreed, her voice sounding contrite and amiable.

Gabriel shot her a look. Agreeing so readily was totally unlike her. And yet...

Why wouldn’t she agree with Chisolmwood? The man was going to be her father-in-law. His son was the man she was going to marry. She hadn’t been there the day he’d threatened her father and brothers. She had no idea what he was capable of.

"Now," Chisolmwood said, giving Gabriel his full attention. "I’ll get to the reason I’ve come. With the war at an end, news of the part you played in its conclusion is widespread. My son insists that your heroism needs to be acknowledged. He tells me it is my duty to host a gathering in which you will be given the accolades you deserve."

Gabriel experienced an explosive flash of anger. There had been nothing heroic in what he’d done. He’d simply followed the orders someone else had given him. If anyone needed to be honored, it was the man he and Austin had dubbed "Thorn".
He
was the one who had somehow ferreted out the information that led Gabriel to a meeting where the Russian general would in all likelihood leave with important papers in his pocket. All Gabriel had done was take them.

But even if he’d single-handedly brought the war to an end, the Duke of Chisolmwood was the last person he would allow to host a gathering to honor him. He rubbed his palms across the knot in his thigh that had begun to ache again.

"I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I doubt I’ll be well enough to attend a function that
you
host any time soon."

Chisolmwood’s brows arched. "I wouldn’t refuse so quickly, Major. My son tells me that both you and Lieutenant Landwell are aware of several shortcomings concerning our military and the conditions our soldiers were forced to endure. Several very influential members of Society will be in attendance, as well as my son." Chisolmwood’s chin lifted slightly. "If reform is truly your goal, you cannot ask for a better champion. Isn’t that true, Etherington?"

Harrison nodded. "The Marquess of Culbertson would be the ideal person to sponsor reform." Harrison’s look turned serious. "But the decision is yours."

Gabriel knew what he meant. Harrison knew how difficult it would be to give Chisolmwood the distinction Gabriel’s presence would lend to his affair. He was torn between his hatred for the man and an obligation to make sure the men fighting under Britain’s flag never had to endure the hardships the men in the Crimea had endured. Military reform was desperately needed. And yet...

He was being used by Chisolmwood. Since his recovery, he’d received more invitations than he could count to affairs at which he was to be the guest of honor. He’d refused them all. To give that privilege to the Duke of Chisolmwood turned his stomach.

"Come now, Talbot. The decision cannot be
that
difficult. Just think of the good that can come of it."

Gabriel considered his decision for a long moment more, then slowly lifted his gaze until his cold glare locked with Chisolmwood’s. "Attending your gathering will involve a great deal of my time. Time that is very precious to me."

The expression on Chisolmwood’s face turned to shocked surprise. "And what do you estimate one evening of your time to be worth?"

Gabriel paused then finally answered. "One note."

Chisolmwood’s surprise turned to disbelief. "I have several notes. Are you talking about one in particular?"

"Yes. The largest one."

"Gabe—"

Gabriel shot Harrison a squelching look and he quit his objection. If he
had
to yield to the duke’s demand, and he did, and if he had to contribute to Chisolmwood’s prestige and influence, and that’s what would happen if he attended his gathering, then it would bloody well be a benefit to someone. And that someone would be Harrison.

Gabriel turned his glare back to Chisolmwood. "Is my presence worth that much?"

Chisolmwood’s loud bark of laughter shot through the tension in the room. He focused his gaze on Gabriel and smiled. "It’s possible I underestimated your determination, Major. I will schedule the affair to be held in two weeks time...if that meets with your approval."

Gabriel nodded. "And the note?"

"Will be handed over to Lord Etherington upon your arrival. Now, if you will excuse me, I have several appointments to keep. Lady Lydia. Etherington. Major."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as none of the men would be the first to drop their gaze from the other. Lydia forced the issue.

"Let me walk you to the door, Your Grace," she said with a smile on her face that Gabriel thought seemed a little unreal. Chisolmwood broke Gabriel’s glare and held out his arm for Lydia to take.

The minute the door closed he sank back against his chair and closed his eyes. His head throbbed and his leg ached. He wasn’t used to fighting any battle with the disadvantage of being confined to a chair while his opponent towered over him. Bloody hell.

"You didn’t have to do that."

Gabriel opened his eyes to find Harrison staring out the window. He had his back to the room. His hands hung at his sides in angry fists.

"You think I did it for you?"

Harrison spun around. "Who else?"

Gabriel didn’t even try to stamp down the anger roiling inside him. "I did it for
me
. Even though it was only money, at least the bastard had to give up something. If I’m lucky, some day I’ll have it in my power to take away something of real value."

Gabriel dropped his head back and closed his eyes. "Now, leave me alone so I get some rest. I have two weeks to build my strength."

He waited until the door closed behind Harrison then reached for the bottle on the table beside his chair and took a swallow.

Then he took another.

Gabriel sat on a stone bench beneath one of the trees in the garden at Etherhouse and inhaled a deep breath. Although winter was far from over, the crisp, clean air gave him a sense of freedom he’d missed since he’d returned. He needed the fresh air to clear his mind. To put things into perspective.

The Duke of Chisolmwood’s event was tonight. He intended to leave Etherhouse first thing in the morning and go to the small flat Austin had found for him. It was time. Since Harrison and Chisolmwood had walked in on them two weeks ago, nothing had been the same.

Being near Lydia was torture. He wanted her more than he’d wanted her before. Loved her more today than he had a year ago. And she would soon marry the Marquess of Culbertson.

He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration then grabbed the two canes Harrison had given him. He had to get through this one last night with Liddy, then he could remove himself from the frustration of being near her.

"Are you ready to go back in?"

He spun his gaze to a spot a short distance down the path and watched Liddy walk toward him.

Bloody hell, but she was beautiful. She smiled and his heart increased the rapid thumping in his chest. Yes, it was past time he left.

"I was thinking about it."

"Harrison says you’ve been out here quite some time."

"The day was too perfect to waste indoors."

When she said no more, he started to rise, but she held out her hand to stop him.

"Please. Stay seated."

He remained where he was.

To come outside, she’d put on a dark maroon velvet cloak with black ermine trim. Its matching bonnet made her porcelain complexion seem even more perfect and the fur around her face only made her hair seem richer, more alive. His breath caught in his throat.