The Historical Collection. Stephanie Laurens
Читать онлайн книгу.
she was leaving, the housekeeper paused. She addressed Gabe directly. “Mr. Duke, you may trust that I—and all the house staff—are committed to making the ball a success. The heart of the matter is, this house does have a grand legacy. A legacy that I regard as my own. You are part of it now.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I trust this means you take pride in your service. Not that you intend to trap my soul in a painting and hang it above the drawing room fireplace.”
The housekeeper gave him a conspiratorial look. “Please don’t tell Mr. Hammond. It’s been too amusing, winding him up. I couldn’t help it. But I’ll put an end to it now.”
“Oh, please. Feel free to continue. He deserves it.”
“As you wish, sir.” The housekeeper squared her shoulders, banished the smile from her face, and summoned her usual solemn tone of voice. “Far be it from me to disobey my employer’s wishes.”
The woman never failed to surprise.
Once the housekeeper had left them alone, Penny crossed the room to give him a sweet kiss. “I didn’t expect to see you this afternoon. I was told you had urgent business matters.”
“I had a great many calls to make. While you’re here, I have something for you.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew the stiffened bit of pasteboard scrawled with names in looping, elegant script.
She took the paper and turned it over to examine both sides. “What is it?”
“It’s your dance card.”
“My dance card?”
Gabe watched her closely as she scanned the card. He’d arranged dances—every set of the evening—to an assortment of highly placed, well-to-do, unmarried men. Peers, lords, gentlemen of note. All of them from families that stretched back generations, if not centuries.
“I don’t understand. Why would you do this?”
“I’ll be occupied with hosting, so I arranged suitable partners in advance.”
She scanned the card. “Lord Brooking for the gavotte. A set of country dances promised to Sir Neville Chartwell. A midnight waltz with a royal duke?” Her eyebrows soared. “An ordinary duke wasn’t good enough?”
“No man is good enough, where you’re concerned. But these are the best ones available at the moment.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide with whom I dance? Or if I wish to dance at all?”
“That’s just it, Penny. Left to your own devices, you won’t dance at all. You’ll stand at the edge of the room. A wallflower.”
She pushed the card back at him. “I don’t want to dance with these men. I don’t care about them. I care about you.”
“Then do this for me,” he said, unable to hide his mounting frustration. “I planned this entire occasion with you in mind, starting right after that asinine masquerade. The right guests, the best orchestra, the finest foods and wine. This ball was never about selling the house. It was meant to be your second chance at a proper debut.”
“Why?”
“Because you deserve it. Because you’ve spent too many years hiding in the corners or among the shrubbery, when you ought to be the light of any party.”
“That’s lovely and thoughtful. But I’m going to marry you. It’s not important anymore.”
“It’s more important than ever. Do you think I want to watch you dance with other men? Hell, no. I want the guests to see you dance. Before we announce our engagement, I want everyone to know you could have had your choice of any gentleman. Everyone, including your family. Your aunt, your brother.”
“My brother? He won’t be arriving until next week.”
“I sent a rider to intercept him with an invitation to the ball. He’s traveling in stages so he can arrive in time. I ought to speak with your father, of course. But I’m not patient enough to wait for correspondence from India.”
She fell away from him, frowning. “You did all this without asking me first?”
Gabe was so taken aback, so unprepared for her displeasure, he needed time to search for words. “I planned it as a surprise. A happy one, I thought. If we marry—”
“When we marry.”
He wreathed his arms about her waist and drew her close. “When we marry, I insist on doing it in the proper fashion, with your family’s blessing. A lengthy engagement, a grand wedding.”
“I don’t need a grand wedding.”
“I need you to have one. I’m the Duke of Ruin. If we rush to the altar in a slapdash manner, everyone will believe I compromised you in an effort to steal your dowry. Or even to purposely bring your family low and drag an aristocrat’s title through the gutters where I was born. We’ll never avoid rumor entirely, but speaking with your brother before announcing a betrothal is the least I can do.”
She touched a hand to her temple. “I understand that you had good motives. I just wish you’d warned me.”
“I didn’t want you to worry. I’ve taken care of everything.”
“I won’t do this. I cannot do this.” The dance card shook in her white-knuckled grip. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me. Because right now, it feels like you’re making excuses. Hiding yourself again. Or perhaps hiding me.” A sick feeling came over him. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re ashamed.”
“No. Never. How could you think such a thing?”
“I’m good enough to fuck in an alleyway, but you don’t want to be seen with me in public. Much less introduce me to your family. Is that it?” He took the dance card and held it before her face. “This is important. Unless people see that you have alternatives, they’ll never believe you wanted me.”
I won’t believe you wanted me.
Gabe needed to be certain that she didn’t see him as an escape—an easy way to avoid her rightful place in society. Or worse yet, as a last resort. She had options, and she deserved to know that before throwing them all away on him.
“Curse you, Gabriel. You are astonishingly self-absorbed.” She dashed away a tear with an impatient swipe of her wrist. “I know it must be difficult to imagine, but sometimes I do have a thought or feeling that isn’t about you.”
“Then share it with me.”
“I’ve never shared it with anyone. And even though I want to, I—” Her voice broke. She looked away, eyes red and welling with tears. “It’s not that easy.”
Gabe passed a hand over his face. She was right. He was being a self-absorbed jackass.
He drew a deep, slow breath, easing out from under the instinctive, defensive anger that had become as natural to him as breathing. In the past, that fire had kept him warm at night when the ground frosted beneath his bare feet. It had filled his belly when he hadn’t eaten so much as a crust in days. It was the force that kept him pushing forward, struggling against the full weight of a world designed to hold him back.
That anger had been his companion when he didn’t have a friend in the world.
But he wasn’t alone anymore.
With Penny in his life, everything was different. He had to be different. If she was in danger, she was his to guard. If she was hurting, she was his to protect.
He drew her close, murmuring clumsy apologies in her ear. Taking her by the shoulders, he guided her to a divan, where they settled side by side.
“Tell me.”