Rules for Reforming a Rake(23)

“Some men,” he replied, glancing at her hand, which was still on his forearm. She quickly removed it.

“Of course,” she continued with a quick intake of breath, “I was forced to strike him over the head with a watering can that happened to be close at hand. He stumbled and let go of me, and that’s how I made my escape.”

“Very resourceful of you. I could have used you at... er, at my side.”

When fending off that irate husband, she imagined. However, there was a look in his eyes, a dark, faraway expression that made her think just for a moment that he was noble and heroic and... no, he had spent his years carousing while his brother had gone to war.

Yet, there was something about him. Something commanding, and at the same time, comforting. He didn’t look like a coward at all.

“One learns to hold one’s own in a family as large and boisterous as mine,” she said, shaking out of the thought. “I wasn’t in any real danger from either gentleman.”

She wanted to add that his cousin, Graelem, who was now married to her sister, Laurel, had taught her to shoot and to handle a knife as well as any man. He’d also taught her several tricks of defense, none of which she’d ever use on Gabriel if he decided to kiss her.

No! She meant Alexander. She’d never use those tricks on Alexander.

Gabriel furrowed his brow. “Your family ought to have been watching over you tonight.”

“Yes, well. I’m certain they didn’t mean to neglect me and I don’t hold them responsible. They thought me capable of taking care of myself. Which I was. I dispatched one gentleman with a bloodied nose and the other with a lump on his head.”

The furrow in Gabriel’s brow deepened.

She let out a ragged sigh. “Oh, you have such an upright look about you, as though you intend to... please don’t say anything to my parents.”

“They must be made to understand the consequences of their inattention.”

“There were no consequences. I defended my reputation quite capably. If you must know, I’m partly to blame. You see, I did something very foolish about a year ago and haven’t quite lived it down.”

“Daisy—”

“No, you’ll have to ask Eloise about it, for I’ll say no more.” She turned away and sank onto a nearby bench. “Please, this evening has been a disaster and your exchanging words with those gentlemen or my family will only make matters worse.”

He followed her, perching his foot on the bench and studying her quite thoroughly while he considered her request. He must have sensed her desolation and decided against adding to her worries, for he finally sighed and said, “Very well. I won’t say a word.”

“Thank you.”

His frown returned. “Don’t. I think you’re wrong.”

“Thank you, anyway. You’ve been the one bright spot in this dismal evening, chivalrous and valiant. My very own dragon-slaying hero. My very own Saint George.”

He surprised her with a disarming smile that reached his eyes and made them gleam with the luminous warmth of the candles in the wall sconces. “I’ve been called many names before, most of them unmentionable, but never, ever have I been called a saint.”

“Gabriel, I expected my first ball to be magical and the young men I’d meet to be charming. Instead, they were boors.”

He let out a chuckle. “Ah, here you thought I was the only boor.”

His gentle humor endeared him all the more to her. “You’re not at all. In fact, I find you very charming and I’m enjoying your company immensely.”

“I’m enjoying yours, too,” he admitted softly.

She let out a bubble of laughter. “We seem to have made great strides since our first encounter.”

“Indeed.”

She gazed up at him and her eyes widened at the tender expression she saw on his face. Her heart, already beating wildly, now shot into her throat. “May I ask you a question?”

“If it’s not too personal,” he teased. “I have very delicate sensibilities.”

“What were you and Eloise laughing about earlier in the carriage? I acted so silly, an utter dolt, but—”

He cupped a hand under her chin and gave it a playful tweak. “The jest was at my expense, not yours. I tried to charm you and you weren’t even listening. I delivered a magnificent apology for my earlier behavior, short, sweet, sincere. Just the perfect balance of humility and contrition. Then I asked, no, begged you to accept my offer of a dance.”

“You did?”

He grinned painfully. “And you never heard a word. It was a humbling moment for me. Well deserved, I may add. Daisy, I’m very sorry for what I said about you the other day. I didn’t mean a single word.”