Читать книгу The Complete Regency Surrender Collection - Энни Берроуз, Louise Allen - Страница 92

Chapter Four

The next morning before the sun had even begun to rise Gabriel rode his horse around the Serpentine as if the demons of hell were chasing him. He continued to circle the lake in Hyde Park, hoping the pounding of Homer’s hooves would knock his brain back together.

His wife had wanted him in her bed after five years, four months and eleven days. That alone should have been cause for celebration. The fact that she wanted another child with him should have made him the happiest of men. But at the moment, he wanted to drown her in the lake he rode around.

If she had been a man, she would have paid for the insults she threw at him as he left her room. Did she really think that little of him? Had she ever understood what kind of man he prided himself in being? His wife was as much a stranger to him as the girl who sold flowers at the entrance of the park.

The idea that she thought he would bed her by throwing up her nightrail and thrusting inside her, while she would have been in obvious discomfort or planning the week’s menus, was just too much to bear. Did she really believe he was such a beast? Oh, he knew she did not like him. She had made that very clear, but to think that poorly of him was infuriating. From the day he had entered his cradle, honour and duty were drilled into him. Whether she believed it or not, he was a man bound by honour. And that honour had cost him more than she knew.

Up ahead, three men on horseback cleared the trees. The sun had begun to paint the sky in pinks and yellows, and the rumble of his stomach told him a good breakfast might settle some of his anger. It was time to head home.

* * *

Gabriel was sitting in his breakfast room, tucking into his meal and reading The Times, when Bennett informed him the Earl of Hartwick was calling. Hopefully his friend was here to tell him something about the smell of the note belonging to the gunman. Glancing up, Gabriel followed Hart’s progress as he strolled into the room, his black frock coat fluttering behind him. If he had not handed over his coat to Bennett, Gabriel knew this wasn’t a social call.

Hart dropped into the chair next to him and tipped his head towards Bennett. The butler looked at Gabriel for approval before fetching a glass of his best brandy for the Earl. After taking a small sip, Hart ran his hand through his black hair, attempting to move a lock that had fallen over his bright blue eyes. ‘It’s a good thing you’re so predicable that I knew I’d find you here at this hour. I want you to know I had plans last night that I altered especially for you.’

Gabriel cut into his ham and studied Hart. ‘A bit early for brandy, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I’ve not gone to bed yet. Well, that is not exactly true...’

‘So I take it you have something to tell me.’

‘I do.’ Hart reclined back, a sly smile peaking over the rim of his glass. ‘I know who the gunman is.’

Gabriel put his fork down and leaned forward. ‘How?’

‘Do you not want to know how I reasoned it out?’

‘I fear I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?’

‘Not if you want that name. What has ruffled your feathers this morning?’

‘I’m unruffled, now talk.’

Hart studied him and took another sip of brandy. ‘It was a good thing Andrew mentioned the man’s accent when he showed me that note.’

‘His accent?’

‘Yes, he said he recognised it from his time near Manchester. Using that bit of information, I took a trip by the river to the Black Swan. Many of its patrons hail from up north. I simply asked a lively lass of my acquaintance who is a barmaid there if she would take a look at him for me. I was pleased to discover that she did indeed know the man.’ He took another slow sip, savouring his drink. ‘She also found identifying a prisoner quite exciting. So for that, I thank you.’

‘You took someone to the Tower without my consent?’ Gabriel tried to relax his fist.

Hart waved his hand casually in the air, which was all the more infuriating. ‘Apologies...deep regret...whatever it is you need to hear. But be aware I did not exactly have the opportunity to contact you at the time.’

‘And how did you explain your need to identify the man, and why he was being held in the Tower?’

‘I told her he attempted to rob me. She believed it, saying he was an unsavoury fellow who was known to annoy the patrons with talk of his disgust of the monarchy and those that serve it. And we played a game of sorts. She was blindfolded for our journey. I never told her we were in the Tower.’ Hart removed a folded piece of paper from the pocket of his black waistcoat and slid it towards Gabriel. ‘Here. That is his name, an area of town and information about the man’s family, because I am that good at what I do.’

Maybe now they would finally get some answers. Without opening it, Gabriel tapped his finger on the folded paper. ‘So maybe you are as good as you think you are.’

‘I will attempt to ignore the surprise in your voice.’

‘Had anyone at the Tower overheard the information your barmaid gave you?’

Hart shook his head and surveyed Gabriel’s breakfast. ‘I thought it best to gather all the details while she and I were alone.’

‘Hopefully there is useful information about his family to finally force him to talk. Andrew has been observing the interrogations. He informs me the man has a high threshold for pain.’

‘He will break sooner or later. How is our illustrious friend faring?’

Knowing how restless Prinny could be, Gabriel assumed he wasn’t handling his confinement well. ‘I am sure he can use a good card game or two to lift his spirits.’

‘I imagine I can spare some time. Unless you have something else you need me to do. Shine your boots?’

‘From the state of those Hessians, I believe I will continue to have Hodges tend to my boots.’

‘Some day you’ll have to remind me how I became involved with the lot of you and why I continue to remain.’

‘My father had said he asked for your assistance because you were cunning and had a greatness inside of you that you weren’t aware of. If you decided to end this association of ours, I assure you that you would be quite bored.’

‘You’re probably right, but I have a feeling I am not the only one who lives for excitement.’

* * *

When Gabriel returned home that evening, having more excitement in his life was the last thing on his mind. As he handed over his hat, gloves and walking stick, he noted the sound of laughter drifting into the entrance hall from somewhere else in the house. He raised a questioning brow to his butler.

Bennett cleared his throat. ‘It is Wednesday,’ he said as a way of explanation.

How could he have forgotten? It was the one day of the week that he and Olivia had agreed she could entertain at home and he would stay out. It had been a long time since he had been in his London residence this early on a Wednesday evening. All this pressure of finding out who was behind the assassination attempt must have caused the normal function of his brain to shut down.

He would go to his study and have a dinner tray sent there. But as he stepped down the hall, a distinct deep male laugh could be heard coming from the private dining room a few doors away. Gabriel moved to the open doorway and peered inside.

His wife was seated at the head of the table, with Andrew to her right. They were leaning close to one another, deep in what appeared to be congenial conversation. It was the very picture of a warm family moment, something Gabriel had not experienced with his wife in many years.

He had never looked to marry for love. Love was a bunch of sentimental drivel some of his classmates at Cambridge would drone on about, usually referring to a local girl who could lead them around by their passions. Thank goodness he and Olivia had been sensible enough not to seek that in a marriage. They’d had a comfortable friendship based on a mutual respect for each other’s opinions and interests. That, and the fact that he’d wanted to sink deep inside of her from the moment he saw her, told him this was the woman he needed to marry. She had been the ideal wife for him, until his responsibilities got in the way.

Leaning against the doorframe, he watched her smile widen at something Andrew said. That dimple that he hadn’t seen in ages graced her cheek and the urge to interrupt the quaint domestic scene overtook him.

‘I was unaware you would be dining here tonight,’ he called out, crossing his arms.

Olivia’s startled expression was a contrast to Andrew’s friendly greeting. Approaching her side, Gabriel raised an inquisitive brow at his brother while he snatched a grape off his wife’s plate.

She watched him bring it to his lips. ‘I didn’t expect you to be home.’

It was the first thing she had said to him since he’d stormed out of her room the night before. He was surprised by her attempt at civility, but then again, they were not alone.

‘It is my house,’ he replied, taking another grape. There were so many emotions running through him that it was difficult to grab on to one. His only thought was to wonder for the first time what exactly happened in his house on Wednesday evenings.

‘Would you care to join us?’ she asked, sounding as if she was chewing on glass.

Gabriel took a seat to her left instead of his customary chair, which was down the table across from hers. She ran her gaze over him with a wrinkled brow and Gabriel refused to consider why he felt an odd desire to stay near the warm sense of companionship. He motioned for a glass of claret from his footman. ‘So, what had you both so entertained when I walked in?’

Andrew shrugged and looked to Olivia. Gabriel raised his brows, waiting for her response, plucking yet another grape from her plate.

Her nostrils flared. ‘Frederick, please bring another place setting for His Grace,’ she said, glaring at Gabriel throughout her entire request.

After the words she’d spat at him last night, he found perverse pleasure in annoying her today. The footman was about to turn to enter the butler’s pantry when Gabriel stopped him with a raise of his hand. ‘No need, Frederick.’

Frederick turned back to resume his place by the door.

‘Nonsense. Frederick, the setting.’

The footman turned again towards the pantry.

‘Frederick, I said that will not be necessary. The Duchess’s plate holds just what I desire.’

The footman once again turned back to face the table, but this time instead of keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead, he watched Olivia.

‘Perhaps you are mistaken,’ she said, taking the last three grapes and popping them into her mouth in rapid succession. She narrowed her eyes at Gabriel, challenging him to take anything else from her plate.

He reached across and broke off a small wedge of cheese. It was a childish thing to do, but he could not resist the impulse. ‘I do believe you never did say what the two of you were discussing when I walked in,’ he said to her.

‘No, I do not believe we did.’ She lifted her plate and Frederick jumped to take it. ‘I know you are a very busy man. We do not wish to keep you from your business.’

Gabriel took a long drink and looked between his wife and Andrew. ‘My business can wait.’ He didn’t like the feeling of being pushed to the side—of not being privy to something that was going on under his roof.

He felt like an outsider.

He caught his brother’s eye. ‘I’m surprised to find you here.’

‘I don’t see why. I enjoy Olivia’s company.’

‘Andrew came here looking for you. I invited him to join me for dinner and he kindly accepted,’ Olivia broke in, glaring at Gabriel like she wanted to throttle him.

The gilded candelabra resting on the table a few feet away appeared to be very heavy and Gabriel wondered if he should have one of the footmen remove it.

‘I take it your presence here means your health has improved,’ Gabriel said to Andrew, wishing he could grab his brother and drag him out of the dining room without causing suspicion. If he had searched Gabriel out, there was a reason.

Andrew narrowed his gaze at Gabriel and leaned forward. ‘It has. Even though our mother is under the assumption I was suffering from the effects of too much ale. Now where do you suppose she acquired that notion?’

It took great effort for Gabriel not to sputter his wine back into his glass. He could not, however, hold back his smile. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’

Andrew nodded and fell back into his chair. ‘Just as I thought.’

‘I still cannot believe you were set upon by thieves on your way here,’ Olivia broke in. ‘I find it astonishing they would consider attacking you with your intimidating size. Hopefully, the bruises on your hand will heal quickly.’

Andrew shot a quick glance at Gabriel before looking at the knuckles of his right hand and flexing his fingers into a fist. ‘I’m sure the bruises will be gone in a day or two.’ He smiled warmly at Olivia. ‘You are very kind to be so concerned.’

‘Nonsense,’ she replied in earnest. ‘I wish you would let me send you home with some healing salve.’

‘I will be fine. Stop fussing so. Save your mothering for Nicholas,’ he said reassuringly.

The colour drained from Olivia’s face. The topic of mothering brought back all the horrid events of last night and Gabriel knew she was remembering them as well. He should be angry with her—hell, he had been. She had insulted his honour. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was to blame for what she thought of him.

The sight of her in that ridiculously large nightrail had set his blood on fire and made him instantly hard. He knew he would have embarrassed himself if he had managed to get all that fabric off her. It had been so long since they were together. Olivia had the most amazing bottom he had ever seen and over the last five years, four months and eleven days he’d found himself sneaking a glimpse of it whenever her back was to him.

His thoughts were on her curves when he heard his brother call his name. Shaking his head, he looked at Andrew.

‘I asked you how Nicholas liked his ride through Hyde Park. Olivia told me you took him.’

‘He liked it very much.’ He took another sip of claret, needing to redirect his thoughts away from Olivia’s soft skin and enticing curves. As he motioned for more wine, he caught Andrew’s amused expression.

‘What name has he settled on?’

‘To my knowledge he is still undecided.’

Olivia looked as if she was about to say something, then took a sip from her glass instead. He stared at her expectantly, but she turned away. There was an uncomfortable silence. Gabriel knew she wanted him to leave. He was not welcome at his own dinner table. She already thought he would take her with no consideration for her comfort. Did he really want her to believe he was a bore as well?

Rising from his seat, Gabriel took his glass and strode to the door. ‘Come to my study on your way out, Andrew,’ he said, not waiting for a reply.

* * *

An hour later, his brother strolled into his study without even knocking. ‘Why do I feel as if you do not like me spending time alone with Olivia?’

‘Don’t be absurd. She considers you her brother.’ Gabriel sat back at his desk chair and watched Andrew walk to the table set with crystal bottles and pour two glasses of brandy. ‘How often do you dine here?’

‘You mean since Nicholas has been born?’

Gabriel nodded and Andrew sighed, sliding the stopper back in the bottle.

‘I don’t know. I’ve never counted. You should try it some time. She is vastly entertaining.’ He placed a glass of brandy in front of Gabriel and sank into the chair across from him.

Gabriel leaned forward and narrowed his gaze. ‘What do the two of you talk about? I was never under the impression you had anything in common. Dear God...has she developed a love of gambling?’

Andrew shook his head, laughing. ‘Our discussions are quite varied. Were you aware she recently began acquiring a repertoire of bawdy tales? They’re quite good.’

Gabriel’s brain almost exploded. ‘You’re joking.’

‘I’m quite serious. Probably from that painter she has been spending time with.’

‘What painter?’

‘The one she is sitting for.’

Gabriel wondered which painter Andrew was referring to. She knew so many and had been patron to a few over the years.

‘You do know she is sitting for a portrait, don’t you?’

Did Andrew have to look so smug? Gabriel rubbed his lower lip and looked away. The idea his brother knew more about his wife than he did was beginning to bother him. ‘Of course I do.’

‘I should hope so, considering the man has quite the reputation.’ Andrew sank back further into his chair.

‘Reputation for what?’

‘You really don’t know anything about her or her friends, do you?’

‘I do,’ he lied. ‘We live in the same house.’

Andrew nodded slowly. ‘Well, in any event, I’m glad you came home when you did. I wanted to tell you in person our gunman has finally begun to talk. We were able to use the information Hart gathered to convince our Mr Clarke that if he cared at all for his family, he would tell us what we needed to know. It appears thoughts of his sickly mother helped him find his voice. He says he was contacted by a note left for him at the post about assassinating Prinny and he was told that he would find information on Prinny’s whereabouts in a book he was to check in each day at Hatchard’s bookshop on Piccadilly. He has no idea who leaves the information, just that when he completed his job, he would receive a thousand pounds. Since he has no love for our monarchy, he didn’t see a problem with profiting from Prinny’s death.’

‘I assume we have men at Hatchard’s?’

‘We do.’

‘Let’s hope that whoever was providing this information is not aware Mr Clarke is no longer in circulation. That is the only way we will find out who wants Prinny dead.’ Gabriel sat back in his chair and took a long draw of brandy, grateful they were one step closer to ensuring Prinny’s safety.

There was a long, comfortable silence between the brothers before Andrew had to ruin it. ‘Five years is a long time to be apart from your wife.’

‘Your point?’

‘You still want Olivia.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘So while you were in the dining room with us, not once did your mind turn to taking her?’

No, he was thinking about running his hands over her sweet round bottom. However now, thanks to Andrew, he was thinking about much more. ‘It did not cross my mind.’

‘Liar.’

Gabriel narrowed his gaze. ‘You are lucky we are family, or I might call you out at such an insult.’

‘Fine. Tell yourself you are not calling me out because I am your brother and not because I am a better shot than you.’

‘You are not. I bet I could shoot that taper by the window in half and you could not.’

Andrew sat up straighter in his chair, the excitement of besting his brother evident in his expression. ‘What if I shoot the taper in half?’

Gabriel removed a pistol from his desk drawer. ‘You won’t. But if you do and I don’t, I’ll buy you a new pair of Hessians.’

‘Hoby’s?’

‘Do you truly believe I would even consider purchasing anything else? And if I win, you tell me about your entire conversation with Olivia.’ What? What an idiotic thing to win!

‘That’s what you want?’ Andrew asked, as if he too couldn’t believe Gabriel’s stupidity.

‘Just go first.’ Exasperation was in his voice as Gabriel handed his brother the pistol.

‘That taper is much too close to make this interesting. I propose we try this in your ballroom.’

Once they were settled in the cavernous room, Andrew loaded the pistol and took aim at the gilded candelabra in front of an open set of French windows. The shot rang out, and the top half of one of the tapers fell to the floor, splattering wax on the wood. With a satisfied smile, he handed the gun over.

Gabriel reloaded it and took aim. Hoby’s would not be receiving an order for new boots from this house. He also cut a taper in two, but the top of his fell out onto the terrace. The sound of racing footsteps caused both men to turn towards the door.

Bennett skidded to a halt just inside the threshold. ‘Sir, is everything all right?’ he asked through laboured breath.

‘Yes, Bennett, my brother and I were just settling a bet.’

‘Very good, sir,’ Bennett said still breathing heavily. ‘I will inform madam of it, in the event she questions if you are still alive.’

Gabriel wondered if it would even matter to her.

Andrew strolled to the windows and peered out into the darkened garden. ‘We should have checked to see if anyone was out there.’

‘If anyone is skulking about in my garden at night, they deserve to be shot,’ replied Gabriel, shooing his butler away.

Perhaps if he plied Andrew with enough brandy, he could still manage to get his brother to tell him what made Olivia laugh.