Marriage Made In Shame(16)
‘Very well. As you so rightly argue, Imelda, this might be a way to restore yourself, Adelaide. Pray this time you will remember all your manners and responsibilities to our family name. I will instruct Bertram to return you home by twelve.’
‘Thank you, Uncle.’ She tried to keep gratitude from her voice and made an effort to avert her eyes lest Alec see the spark of excitement that she knew would be within them and change his mind completely.
* * *
Gabriel followed Daniel Wylde as he ushered him into a salon at the front of the house. It was a familiar room. Once a good few years back this had been like a second home to him but then Daniel had been called off to the Peninsular War and Gabriel had met Henrietta.
Amethyst Wylde stood to greet him as he came into the chamber. On the few occasions he had met her Gabriel had found her to be a woman of wit and cleverness who seemed to have little time for the inconsequential chatter and precise manners of the ton.
‘Lord Wesley, it is good to see you again.’ As her eyes ran over his face she did not look away. Rather she observed each injury closely. ‘Christine Howard is adamant Gavin Murray is a bully and a cheat. She also swears that his wife would have been much better off under your protection.’
Gabriel smiled. ‘I beg to disagree, my lady. Beating him into a pulp would not have solved a thing.’
‘So you allowed him to beat you into a pulp instead?’
The anger expressed on his behalf was surprising and he smiled. ‘Perhaps I did.’
‘Well, then, let us just pray that your sacrifice might count for something. A man who kicks another whilst down and out must have his own set of dubious morals. An uneasy and dangerous fault to live with, I should imagine, for Mrs Cressida Murray.’
Gabriel had the feeling Daniel Wylde was listening carefully, though the way he looked at his wife and took her hand had him glancing away. Solidarity and unity had a certain heat to it. A conversation from an adjoining room suddenly caught his attention.
‘Lucien and Francis are here, too, Gabriel as well as Miss Ashfield and her cousin Bertram Ashfield. There will be seven of us altogether because Lucien has brought his sister, Christine.’
Adelaide was in the next salon? So she had come? Sweeping back the length of his unruly hair, Gabriel followed his hosts through the open doors.
She was sitting on the sofa when he saw her, but she stood almost immediately, wide blue eyes through glass taking in the bruising on his cheek in that particular way she had of noticing things.
‘Miss Ashfield.’
‘Lord Wesley.’ Stiff and uncertain. He was careful not to reach out for her hand or make any effort to touch her in such a public domain.
‘I hope you thought to use my ointment on your face, my lord?’
Before he could answer Bertram Ashfield spoke. ‘Addie is a wizard at the art of healing. Our old and unmarried aunts were the same and she has followed their example.’
Addie. Gabriel turned the name on his tongue—a family nickname that suited her entirely. But her cousin was not yet finished.
‘At Sherborne, Adelaide has a clinic that is always full of those interested in her concoctions. I think she could make a fortune if she were to set up a business for the dispensing of medicines.’
‘Well, we could certainly do with that.’ Francis’s interjection made Lucien laugh. When Adelaide looked puzzled, Francis St Cartmail continued on to explain.
‘We call ourselves “The Penniless Lords”, Miss Ashfield. A half joke at our expense, I know, although Daniel has seen fit to remedy his desperate circumstances and in the nicest way possible.’
Amethyst Wylde took up the cause. ‘If I had sisters, I should send them straight into your direction, Francis.’ Her eyes alighted on Adelaide. ‘You have a fortune, do you not, Miss Ashfield? Perhaps one of these lords might catch your eye?’
Unbelievably Adelaide blushed a bright red, though Amethyst quickly spoke again as if to take attention from her. ‘I have a garden at Montcliffe you might be interested in. It has a large variety of different herbs and flowers and you would be most welcome to gather any specimens that caught your fancy. I know if one is passionate about a subject one is always on the lookout for new and different material. My papa is like that. Timber is his love and he can seldom pass a mill without going in to see what is on offer. Daniel’s is horses.’
Bertram Ashfield was quick to catch on to the new subject and after a moment the group split and Gabriel stood alone with Adelaide.
‘I am glad to see you here, my lord. I expected at least some broken bones.’
‘Oh, I have a knack at fending off blows, Miss Ashfield, and surviving them.’
‘I have heard it mentioned that you were a champion at the sport of sparring’
‘That was some while ago. I have not pursued the activity for years.’
‘Still, it must be like horse riding. Once learned, never forgotten.’
He smiled. ‘What is it you are trying to say, Adelaide?’
The use of her Christian name seemed to take her by surprise because the same flush from before spread across her cheeks.
‘I want to know why you didn’t retaliate against Mr Murray in the crowded ballroom?’
‘Because I had made a promise not to.’
‘A promise to his wife?’
He smiled at her quickness. ‘Cressida Murray’s husband had been caught cheating. She wanted to encourage him back.’
‘By sleeping with you?’
No other woman of his acquaintance would have voiced such a question, but there was something in Adelaide Ashfield that was different. ‘Hardly. It was jealousy she was after.’
Blue eyes blazed. ‘Asking for such an impossible favour implies more than a passing friendship between you, my lord.’
He looked her directly. ‘I hurt her once, badly. Perhaps I deserved it.’
A small frown played about her brow. ‘One cannot always be responsible for the feelings of others, sir. Revenge lies in one’s own hands, I would hope, and not in the battered face of a former lover caught under an unreasonable promise.’
‘You think penance is unreasonable, then, in the repayment of a debt?’
‘Her penance or yours?’
Hell. Could mind reading be another of Miss Ashfield’s unusual gifts? His temple ached, the burr of voices making it worse, and to top it all off he had the deep-felt impression that she was enjoying this.
Taking stock of his irritation, he changed the topic. ‘I have heard that you suffered for your kindness to me at the Whitely ball and I am sorry for it.’
‘Well, the Earl of Berrick and the Honourable Richard Williams have turned tail and run. I would not call that suffering. Perhaps it should be me who is thanking you.’
Startled by her honesty, Gabriel laughed. He could barely remember the last time he had done so out of her company.
‘You have a fortune, Miss Ashfield. There will be a great number of willing swains behind that lot and of a far better calibre if you just give it time.’
‘I hope not. Uncle Alec seems to think my unseemly behaviour at the ball was unforgivable. He is considering packing me off to Sherborne again to live out my days in Dorset in a spinsterly regret.’
‘And will you?’
‘Regret my lack of a marriage proposal?’ She swallowed and Gabriel wondered if she was quite as impervious to her suitors as she made out. Lord, if she was carted off back to Sherborne he’d lose the chance of talking to her again and feeling...something? He dared not risk touching her here, but he wanted to. The ache of desire to discern his body’s reaction to her almost undid him.
Her hand lay on the headrest of the chair she stood by, the nails short and tidy, her fingers dainty. A healer’s hand. He could see the blue veins through the thin whiteness of her skin. There was a burn on one of her knuckles and it had blistered. From assembling her concoctions, perhaps? He hoped it had not happened when she had made the lavender ointment for him.
A great wave of melancholy kept him rooted to the spot, the emptiness of his life leaving a stillness that was unending. Usually he found some relief in humour, but tonight he could not seem to do that, the truth of all that he wasn’t, shocking.
If he were to touch her and feel only indifference, then that was the end of it for him. Excusing himself, he moved away with barely the minimum of manners.
Lucien found him over by the small cabinet that held Daniel’s fine brandy. ‘You look exhausted, Gabe. Perhaps a holiday in the country at your family seat is in order?’
‘Amongst the smouldering ashes of Ravenshill Manor and its roofless walls?’ Gabriel returned and Lucien Howard began to laugh wryly.
‘I had forgotten about the fire. What the hell happened between us a few years back, Gabe? Why did you just disappear without word or reason? Daniel and I tried to find you before we left for Spain, but you were gone.’
Gone into hell, Gabriel thought, and took a drink, lost in the clutches of Henrietta Clements and the political intrigues of her husband.
What was it Gracian had said in his treatise on worldly wisdom? ‘Never open the door to a lesser evil, for other greater ones invariably slink on in.’ One mistake leads to the next and the next until there is no way left to go.
That was how he had felt, still felt even six months after the fire. Once, he might have managed, but now...only guilt was left and a floundering pool of regret.