Chapter 19

So then, they are matters of taste, these little parties, but not so the etiquette they require. You must be gay, you must laugh and chuckle and all that, but you must not overdo it; you must not let your merriment carry you away. In out-door games especially, you must be careful not to romp, not to rush and tear about, nor be boisterously merry…you must always remember what dear fragile things the ladies are, and treat them tenderly.

~ The Habits of Good Society: A Handbook for Ladies and Gentlemen (The Last London Editor; 1860)

From his elevated position within the Hawthorne manor house, Henry Sinclair observed the fishing party amble slowly back to the house for the dinner bell in dribbles. A pair here or there sauntered casually along, engrossed in conversation and each other, as they slowly wound their way up the grassy slope. The sun was setting magnificently behind them, basking the group in warm pink and golden light, creating quite the romantic setting and picturesque ambience.

Although far away, he could clearly decipher the two figures that belonged to Victoria and Gabriel and what he saw both angered and warmed him, for they walked closely together, Vicky comfortably escorted on his arm, and they were smiling. At each other. The duration of his many years with his wards Henry had not once seen them smile at each other.

And he knew, he just knew, that they were perfect together. If only they would realise this, too. But they were as stubborn as the other and if Victoria did not get this worm about Africa out of her head, then there would surely be disaster. If anyone knew Gabriel, it was Henry, and he knew that his grandson took commitment seriously considering his tarnished past with Regina. Gabriel would not accept anything less other than absolute loyalty from his wife, especially since Regina had abused just that principal. Henry had doubted that Gabriel would ever want to take a bride again.

But there he was, smiling down at Victoria with a considerable amount of warmth, and then he threw back his head in laughter at something she said. If that didn’t count for something, then what did? Now, if only he could devise some way, some obstacle, which would require that they spend even more time alone together…

“My, will you look at that,” Delores murmured from beside him.

Henry turned, surprised that he hadn’t heard her enter the study and join him by the great, arched windows that stared over the extensive lawns. “Victoria and Gabriel?” he confirmed with a slow grin. “It would seem, then, that this little ploy is working, after all.”

“I never doubted you for a moment,” Delores told him wryly. “At least they are being amiable to one another, which is a monumental improvement.”

“Let’s not forget that he did aid her during the recital,” Henry concurred. “That alone was pure chivalry.”

“Indeed.”

Quietly, they observed the young couple strolling convivially up the slope, falling back slightly so that a large space separated them and the rest of the party. “However,” Henry said idly, quietly, “is it enough to prod Gabriel to propose?”

“What do you mean?” Delores enquired curiously.

“Well, the boy has outright admitted that he has no intentions on the girl at all,” Henry explained to her as the first part of the group was ushered inside the house. “He was set on proposing to Oriana a few days ago. Still is, I believe.”

“Goodness, no. Oriana will be drained lifeless being married to a man like that.”

Henry gave Delores a dry look. “Exactly my sentiments. We both agree that Victoria is an excellent match for Gabriel. Our only obstacle that remains is getting him to realise that, too.”

“And Victoria,” Delores murmured. “Vicky must be utterly content with her choice of husband, otherwise she will hightail off to Africa without thinking twice about it.”

“She will be content with Gabriel. I’m sure of it. The young idiots just need to realise it first.”

“But how-”

“I say,” Sophie Weatherly declared loudly as she careened into the study with all the energy of a cornered badger, “you’ve got yourself a fine lad there, Henry. If I were a few years younger I’d proposition him me’self for a bit of fun in the hay, if you know what I mean.”

“Hello, Sophie,” Delores said drolly. “I see you know your way around quite nicely.”

“Not at all, Delores. A strapping man by the name of Codswallop showed me here when I enquired to your whereabouts.”

“Cods-?” Henry stuttered before realisation dawned and a slow smile cracked his lips. “You must mean Cunningham, the butler.”

Sophie blinked owlishly at him. “Thought Codswallop was an odd name for a servant me’self,” she remarked guilelessly, then proceeding to shrug her vulture-like shoulders in a manner of pure nonchalance. “Oh well. Where do you hide the liquor?”

“Oh, dear God.”

“Now, now, Delores. You should be used to such forwardness having raised a hellcat like Victoria,” Henry chided, heartily amused as Sophie ferreted out the sherry and punctually secured a glass for herself.

“Yes, but she has quietened down substantially, you have to admit,” Delores told him wryly, eyeing Sophie as if she were about to toss the sherry in the air and dance in the spray. “Oh, she is still as hopeless as she was but… well, I’m not sure, but she has become more… serene somehow.”

“That Victoria chit?” Sophie interrupted, rudely. “I admire that one. Got spirit, she does. Perfect for your boy, Henry, just like you said she would be.”

Delores turned to him with wide, speculative eyes. “Oh, really? Would you care to explain this to me, Henry?”

“Sophie has agreed to do some espionage for us,” Henry explained unrepentantly. “I thought that Gabriel and Victoria need a bit of a push in the right direction and who better to inform me of their progress than Sophie Weatherly? She is a veritable old minx.”

“Old?”

“Hmmm.” Delores pursed her lips, disapproval writ across her brow in furrowed lines. “I’m not sure I approve of your thoughts, Henry. Just what are you suggesting when you say that those two need a push in the right direction?”

“Old?”

“I meant it endearingly, Sophie,” Henry told her with a charming smile and that seemed to settle the mad old bat. “Clearly they are not capable of realising it for themselves that they are meant for each other, so I’ve concocted a scheme that will force them together, alone-”

“You’re going to compromise them?” Delores nearly yelled in shock. “Henry, that’s deplorable! I simply will not allow that-”

“Don’t be daft,” Henry snapped. “I would never force them into that situation. All I am suggesting is that they need more time alone together to realise their true affections for one another. Nobody but us will know of their time alone and we certainly won’t force them to wed, but hopefully one of them will come to their senses eventually.”

“I’m still not entirely certain this is wise,” Delores said uncertainly. “You know that I would dearly love to see them happy, together, just as much as you, but I can’t condone your methods, Henry.”

“I, for one,” Sophie hiccupped loudly as she poured herself another glass of sherry, “think it is a wily plan from that old fox. I noticed them today. That boy can’t keep his eyes off the gel. If you ask me, I think that he has already sampled her wares-”

“Sophie!” Delores gasped, shocked. “You are, you must realise, speaking of my granddaughter!”

Sophie waved her sherry glass around negligently, spilling the dark liquid over the sides and onto Henry’s expensive rug in the process. “Naturally. One would assume you would like to know these things and you certainly wouldn’t want the lad to run to the altar only to find his betrothed a terrible bore in the-”

“That’s quite alright, Sophie,” Henry interrupted gruffly. “I think we have seen the point.”

Sophie shrugged and finished her second glass of sherry. “All I’m saying is that it can’t be such a bad thing because the end result will be the same,” she finished, the sound of glass clinking on glass enunciating her words.

Delores sighed woefully. “You just had to get her involved, didn’t you?” she asked Henry.

“I can hear you, Delores.”

Henry chuckled. “Sophie used to be the best matchmaker in all of England back in her day.”

“Used to be?” Sophie snorted, outraged. “Just you wait, my boy. I have a thing or two up my sleeve yet.”

“Very well,” Delores conceded with a sigh. “What is the grand scheme you have to lure these two together, then?”

***

Victoria cursed vehemently.

Bethany gasped.

“What the devil?” her mistress grumbled hoarsely, glaring into the shadows at the source of her dismay. Where was the sun? And why was she awake? “What time is it?”

“I’d really rather not say, miss,” Bethany muttered nervously from her bedside. “I don’t think you’d take kindly to that knowledge.”

“Where is the sun? Why am I awake?”

Bethany hesitated and Vicky could feel the little woman squirming with unease. She sighed miserably and flopped back against her pillows, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the light. A few birds, one of those dreadful, early creatures that always heralded the rising sun a good hour or two before the orb revealed its yellow face, chirped outside her window. She never heard those birds. Never.

“There’s been an, um, change to the itinery,” Bethany explained fretfully. “I was informed to ensure you were awake and ready to leave before the sun.”

“What?” Why had no one informed her of this the night before? Surely Henry and Delores had decided on the change long before dinner? But due to the ghastly earliness of the hour they probably thought it best to surprise Vicky with the news rather than endure her passionate arguments against such an endeavour. And passionate they would have been, indeed.

“You’re to enjoy a hike, it seems, miss,” Bethany cajoled weakly.

“Oh, God!”

“It’s not all that bad, miss.”

She could not, honestly, think of anything worse at this hour. “Leave me to die, Bethany,” Vicky groaned, shoving a pillow over her face and turning to the side. “I want to die.”

“Now you’re just being unreasonable,” her maid protested churlishly. “You’re going to get me into trouble, miss. I was told that I had to have you ready before the sun-”

“Ugh!” Vicky threw the pillow against the wall. “This is inhumane! Who, I ask, who gets up at this hour to endure a bloody hike in the country? It’s absurd, that’s what it is!” Oh, she knew she was being unreasonable and irrational and, judging by Bethany’s shadowy smile, her maid knew it too. Many people who had very little choice, people who were not born to privilege and wealth, woke up even earlier than she on a daily basis for their own livelihood. It was this thought in the end and that of Bethany getting in trouble if she did not arise that finally provoked her to wobble to her feet and numbly go through the processes of her morning toilette.

When she was finally attired in an outdoors gown of soft green secured with a cream sash under her bodice and soft, comfortable ladies boots, Vicky ambled clumsily downstairs. Not the most graceful of persons, she was even less so at this hour and it was an effort to concentrate on not tumbling down the steps towards the entrance hall.

When she reached the darkened hallway, the only person there was Gabriel, looking suavely handsome and aristocratic in fawn-coloured trousers, a dark coat and black knee-high boots folded down at the tops. The familiar sight of him sent wave upon wave of exquisite sensation coursing through her and she vividly recalled every wicked thing he had done to her.

“Good morning,” he said with a smile. Oh, those dimples…

“Mmmf.” Vicky glanced around, noting they were quite alone.

Studying her closely, Gabriel supplied, “Apparently we’re to meet in the woods for breakfast. The others have apparently gone ahead to wait for us.”

Ugh. Did everybody on the planet, except her, adore mornings, especially early ones? She looked up at Gabriel enquiringly. “Did you know about this change last night?” she queried.

He shook his head. “My valet informed me of it but an hour ago,” he said. “I can’t complain. I was not looking forward to the alternative.”

“Which was?” Vicky didn’t really pay much attention to the list of events on the itinery, trusting her maid to get it right for her.

“Escorting Miss Prescott on a ride,” Gabriel explained dryly and Vicky smothered a smile, absurdly pleased by his words and his tone regarding the horrid woman. “Shall we?” He held out his arm and, in a gesture that was becoming increasingly familiar, Vicky accepted it. Wordlessly, he led them out of the manor and into the dim morning light. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon in the east, fingers of pink and yellow and gold arcing against the night sky. A few stars were making their final appearances and Vicky silently marvelled at the beauty of it, rare indeed to be witnessing such a thing.

“How did Bethany manage to get you up at this hour?” Gabriel asked humorously.

“Shock, I believe,” Vicky answered, her eyes drawn to the pink horizon. “Shock was on her side. I am not used to anything so shocking occurring at this hour. So naturally my body did not know what was going on and simply surprised itself awake.”

He chuckled slightly as he guided her down the path that winded towards the Hawthorne woodlands where they were to rendezvous with the rest of their party. “Perhaps you will enjoy this little adventure and long to partake in more early morning activities in future.”

“Unlikely.” Vicky snorted. Her gaze swivelled to the line of dark trees ahead of them and a little bite of anxiety nipped at her thoughts. It was really quite dark out and the sun was only now starting to light the sky. If the rest of the party had left before them, they must have entered the forest when it had been black as pitch out. Surely that could not be safe? Once or twice she had heard wolves in the area, not to mention thieves or highwaymen. “Is… is this safe?” she demanded of the man beside her suddenly. “I mean, will the others be safe?”

Gabriel frowned thoughtfully at the looming horizon of dark forest. “I don’t see a reason to fear for their safety,” he said. “They are a large group with little valuables and possibly a dozen or more servants in tow to transport the breakfast fare.”

Somewhat put at ease, Vicky allowed herself to relax. She was, after all, on the arm of possibly the most handsome man she had ever met who was being quite companionable despite a rather rocky past between them. In all honesty, she should be revelling in the situation rather than overthinking it. So, she vowed firmly to put aside all her worries concerning Africa, her impending departure, the man beside her who wanted her but not enough to marry her, and her overriding sense of guilt which had culminated in yet another sleepless night.

The guilt had been her most persistence adversary and Vicky was seriously questioning the wisdom of her hasty decision to send Dani with a missive to Captain Doyle. It had essentially sealed her fate and she would be leaving England within a fortnight, if not less. That meant she was willingly betraying Henry and Delores’s trust in her, even the small amount Gabriel had in her, and that she could not abide. It was bad enough that she was abandoning her family, but that she could actually hurt them through her actions… well, it was enough to cause the beginnings of serious doubts in her mind and Vicky realised ashamedly that she had been too brash, too unreasonable in her actions…

But while she figured out a solution to this problem, she would not dwell on it today. There was time yet to rectify her misdeeds and perhaps after the three weeks were up and there were still no offers for her hand from any gentleman, Henry would permit her to travel. It wasn’t what she had hoped she would one day accomplish with her life, but it would have to suffice for now.

“You are abnormally quiet,” Gabriel remarked dryly, “or do I have the hour to thank for this small blessing?”

“You wretch,” Vicky teased, grinning. “I was thinking, is all. I do not like the presumption that you consider me a chatterbox under normal circumstances.”

“You are. I’ve watched you talk people’s ears off before.”

“You’re being absurd and rude. In fact, I should leave you to fend for yourself in the forest. Why, you’ll be as hopeless as a babe without my protection.”

“Is that so?” he drawled lazily. “I personally believe my safety will be assured with your absence, for there is nothing with a tongue sharper or more venomous than your own.”

“And there is no man,” Vicky bit out, slightly offended, “that is more the lowest cad, destroyer of innocent reputations-”

“Careful, you harpy,” he taunted wolfishly. “I might have to prove myself worthy of those accusations.”

Vicky frowned up at him, suddenly aware that they had entered the forest and were surrounded by dark, looming trees. She glanced around quickly, noting that although it was still early, the sun was a little higher in the sky. Birds and animals noisily went about their business all around them and light dapples of sunlight permeated through the sparse canopy above their heads. “Just what,” she said distractedly, eyeing a mischievous squirrel darting up the trunk of a tree, “is that supposed to mean?”

“Assuming you’re innocent,” he explained with a roguish grin in her direction, “and I am the destroyer of said innocence-”

“Of course I’m innocent!”

He snorted. “I am not saying that you are not, but you kiss like the most experienced mistress I have ever known.”

She blushed. Furiously. “You are far too forward, even for me. You should not mention things like that in front of me.”

He looked down at her, his green eyes glinting guilelessly. “But I adore the way you wear a blush.”

It only made the heat on her cheeks intensify. “You should consider spectacles, my lord,” she murmuring chidingly, “for I do not blush. Ever.”

“I can prove you wrong, you know.”

“You are saying that an awful lot today.”

“It’s the truth.” He shrugged and led her a few yards forward, but once again all Vicky could identify were the noises of the early animals and their own footsteps against the earth.

“Surely,” she surmised wonderingly, “we would have stumbled across our breakfast meet by now, or at least heard them?”

Gabriel brought them to a halt and was silent a moment, presumably listening for any signs of human activity from within the forest. “Hmm.”

“Hmm?”

He glanced down at her, eyes twinkling. “I am beginning to suspect,” he said to her with a smile, “that we were the only fools willing enough to participate in this excursion and the rest of the guests are all soundly asleep in their comfortable beds, or our servants were misinformed.”

“Oh.” That would certainly explain why there were no noises and why they had not yet coincided with the others. “Shall we return then?” It was, after all, quite inappropriate that they were alone out here in an isolated expanse of forest.

“We could,” Gabriel murmured speculatively, “or…”

“Or?” Vicky frowned. Was there any reason at all for them to stay? She highly doubted that there was a sane reason.

He turned to her slowly and that recurring glimmer in his eyes was present, the one where he looked positively feral and predatory, the one that told her he fully intended on devouring her. Her heart tripled in speed, her limbs tensing in anticipation… or flight. “Or we could stay,” he growled enticingly, catching her hand and drawing her to him. “You could stay with me.”

“Are you mad?” she squeaked.

“Are you denying that you don’t want me?” he challenged, raising a brow arrogantly over one marvellously greenish amber eye.

How could she deny it? What woman in her right mind would ever deny not wanting him? He was wonderfully masculine and handsome, the embodiment of desire and pleasure and devilish fervidness that made her limbs weak and her reason waver. Of course she bloody wanted him!

“You know that I can’t do that,” she told him truthfully, unable to fight him any longer than she had been. They had progressed far enough with their relationship to know that sincerity were the only true means of communication between them.

“Then stay,” he coaxed gently, his eyes stating blatantly that he already knew that she would.

But still she hesitated, knowing that once she had taken this final step, her fate would be sealed and she questioned the depth of her feelings for this man in order to do so. Would she have enough stamina to withstand the pain that would follow after his rejection? It was likely to kill her, to send her spiralling into an agonizing well of self-misery and humiliation for she knew that he did not want anything from her other than her body.

But was she any better than he? For what did she want from him? Not a few days ago she had tried to convince him to allow her to use him as a means to gain her ends, her needs. She was as mercenary as him when it came down to it.

“Let’s talk about this,” she blurted and the look of surprise on his face almost made her smile. Almost.

“Talk?” Gabriel stared at her blankly. “What is there to talk about, exactly?”

“Well,” Vicky began, “for one, we should consider the implications if I did choose to stay.”

He gave her that devilish grin that made her knees buckle. “I promise you that you will enjoy it,” he told her sensuously.

And Vicky nearly conceded right there and then. But she firmly stuck to her convictions and resolved to see this conversation through because she was sorely inclined to throw her tattered reputation to the wolves anyway and be done with it. However, if he could at least try to convince her that it would be worth it, that she would find little regret in staying with him, then she would be his, wholly and in every fundamental way her body would allow her to be.

But he would have to prove to her that he was willing to fight for her, to show her that he yearned for her, otherwise she would not be able to live with herself. It was silly and loose and all things wicked, but right then, Vicky had little reason left with which to resist him and if this made logical sense in her mind, then so be it.

“Right,” she agreed with a wobbly smile. “We can notch that up to why it would be a good reason for me to stay here with you at the peril of my reputation.”

“What is making you hesitate?” Gabriel asked, frowning. This skittish side of Victoria was also a new feature he had heretofore not been privy to. Although confident, he could sense that she was nervous and he could understand that. After all, he was asking her to give herself up to him, to consent to social ruin should they be caught. And he supposed he should feel like the vilest fiend for asking her to do so but, Lord, he could not help himself. His whole world changed whenever she was nearby and the air between them was charged with sexual tension and need that his body yearned to relieve.

“The implications are,” she told him earnestly. “It’s alright for you. No one will hold you responsible for your actions. But I… I will become a fallen woman, left without a husband to spare my name. You cannot make me your mistress as that will only worsen both the Hawthorne and Colton names-”

“No,” he barked sharply, more sternly than he had initially meant to sound. But mistress? The notion was ludicrous. He could never see Victoria as his mistress but then what? He was asking her for her body now, in this setting, what more could she expect from him? An offer of marriage had not been forthcoming and he had made those intentions clear to her from the outset, stating eloquently that he had been willing to compromise her but not marry her. He felt loathsome for those remarks.

He stared at her now, looking impossibly innocent and beautiful in a pale green dress that seemed to enhance the blueness of her wide eyes. She was magnificent, lithe and curvaceous, everything a woman should be and more. He wanted her with a burning he had not felt for another woman in a long time, if at all, and he had hurt her with his careless words about wanting her but not being prepared to meet her at the altar afterwards.

He was willing to change all that now. Looking at her, yearning for her, Gabriel Sinclair was willing to break an oath he had made to himself several years ago after being betrayed by a woman he had thought he had loved.

He was willing to marry Victoria Colton.

And he knew that he wanted to marry her. He wanted to be bound to her, to be antagonised by her stubbornness and hoydenish behaviour. He wanted to be challenged and, most of all, he wanted to be provoked to these maddening heights of ecstasy that she could relieve. He smiled at her slowly, lazily. “I’ll not make you my mistress, Victoria. I could not do that to you.”

Those blue eyes darkened with a frown and she folded her arms under her breasts. “Of course you wouldn’t,” she retorted stiffly. “I suppose you would just expect me to live in shame for the rest of my life?”

“No.”

“Then what, Gabriel?” she demanded, eyes flashing now.

“Do you still intend on sneaking off to Africa?” he asked suddenly, silently hoping that her answer would be in the negative because if it was not he would not be able to trust her. Regina Atherton had made very sure that Gabriel could find little trustworthiness in the qualities of the opposite sex but now he was willing to put his faith in one woman, in one fatally beautiful woman he wanted with all his soul.

And she hesitated, gnawing her bottom lip. “Why is it important to you?” Vicky asked quietly.

“Just answer my question. After today, after you spend this time with me, will you still be intent on leaving England?”

Those exquisitely cobalt eyes just stared at him, widely and mutely, and Gabriel could not decipher her expression. She was still for a long moment and then, slowly, she shook her head. “I will not,” she promised. “No.”

He could not help the grin that dimpled his cheeks. “Then,” he told her huskily, “I suppose I shall have to marry you.”