6

“Good morning, Swanfield.” Lisette’s father smiled at Gabriel across the breakfast table where he sat conspicuously alone. “What brings you to my house so early in the morning?”

Gabriel bowed. “I apologize for disturbing you, sir, but I was hoping to invite Miss Ross to ride with me.”

Philip Knowles looked surprised. “Lisette isn’t known for her love of riding. She doesn’t even have a horse in London. Are you sure you mean her?”

“I spent some time with her at Knowles House helping her regain her confidence. I thought she might like to continue our lessons.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Swanfield, but she isn’t here. She spent the night at her mother’s house.”

It belatedly occurred to Gabriel that he had never met Lord Knowles’s wife. Was there some scandal about their relationship he had missed?

“Her mother doesn’t live here?” He cringed at his own words and braced himself for Lord Knowles’s wrath.

Amusement glinted in Lord Knowles’s eyes. “She lives here sometimes, but I don’t want to bore you with our complicated domestic matters.”

“Ah, exactly.” Gabriel tried hard to think of what to say next. “Do you have Miss Ross’s direction, sir?”

Philip’s eyebrows rose. “You seem remarkably anxious to see her, Swanfield.”

Gabriel met his gaze. “I am, sir.”

“Then perhaps you might care to leave a message, which I will endeavor to deliver to her on her return.”

It was said gently enough, but there was no mistaking the implacable note behind Lord Knowles’s words. Gabriel sighed and realized he was beaten. If he kept pressing, Lord Knowles would grow suspicious and pass his concerns along to his daughter and that would lead to him being barred from the house.

“That is an excellent idea, sir. I’ll ask her to ride with me on the morrow. I’ll supply her with a horse.”

Lord Knowles stood up and held out his hand. “There is paper and ink in my study. Please feel free to use them before you leave.”

Gabriel shook the proffered hand and allowed the footman to lead him into Lord Knowles’s study. He wrote an innocuously polite note, informing Miss Ross that he would call for her at eight in the morning unless he heard otherwise, and left it unsealed on Lord Knowles’s desk. As he replaced the pen in the inkwell, he noticed a collection of miniature paintings on the polished wooden surface. He recognized Lisette instantly. The others eluded him, apart from a vaguely familiar blond woman, although he guessed they were pictures of Miss Emily and her brother when they were younger.

He nodded his thanks to the footman and was shown out the door. He put on his gloves and then his hat as he strolled down the steps. It was only after he mounted his horse that he remembered where he might have seen the other blond woman. Whoever she was, she also frequented the pleasure house. He clicked at his horse and started moving. Was that the connection between Miss Ross and the erotic club? Did she have an older sister or a mother who visited the place and thus had entry?

He had no idea, and could only hope that Miss Ross would be brave enough to face him tomorrow. There was little he could do to her while she was on horseback in the middle of a public park, although several scenarios involving dragging her out of the saddle and putting her over his knee had presented themselves to his fevered imagination…. His cock stirred pro-testingly and he shut down that line of thought. There would be time enough to gauge the state of their “relationship” tomorrow without inviting trouble.

“Swanfield!”

Gabriel looked to his left and saw an all-too-familiar figure waving at him. He guided his horse to the edge of the road, and looked down unsmilingly at his cousin Lieutenant Michael Granger. Michael was neither as tall nor dark-featured as he was, and his eyes were a pale gray. His older brother, William, was far more like Gabriel in looks and temperament.

“Good morning, Gabriel, and how are you?” Michael’s smile seemed genuine enough, so Gabriel forced himself to respond.

“I’m well, thank you.”

“Are you back in Town for good, then?” Michael swallowed hard. “I hadn’t heard that you were opening up Swanfield House.”

“I’m not.”

Michael looked confused. “Why not?”

“Because it seems an unnecessary extravagance just for one person.”

“But you’re the earl and it’s your home. People will expect you to live there.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I’ve never felt that way about it, Michael. I’ve only been there twice.”

“Well, at least you should go and see the old place. You might like it.”

“I doubt that.”

Michael sighed. “Still as cantankerous as ever, I see. One day you’ll have to accept who you are and let the past go.”

“Like your brother William has?”

Michael’s cheeks flushed. “William is a fool and you know it.”

Gabriel inclined his head. “It was nice to see you again, cousin.”

Concern flashed across Michael’s face. “Don’t go yet. I have no idea how to contact you, or where you are living.”

“Why would you want to contact me? I’m not exactly welcome in your family, am I? Seeing as I ‘stole’ the title from your brother.”

“That’s not true. We all … became accustomed to that disappointment years ago.” Michael persisted, his expression pleading. “Perhaps we could meet at my club?”

Gabriel allowed his horse to back up two steps. “I don’t frequent the clubs. I’m still considered a disgraced man, remember?”

“But we could help you with that, show some family solidarity for once, rebuild your reputation.”

Gabriel almost smiled. Unlike his fiery brother William, Michael had always been a peacemaker. “I fear it is too late for that. Good-bye, cousin, and take care.”

He moved off even as Michael continued to speak, and threaded his way back into the stream of traffic. The encounter had unsettled him. He preferred not to think of his father’s relatives and the hopes he’d dashed by daring to be born. The Granger side of the family had treated him appallingly as a child and he’d never quite forgotten that. Even during the investigation in Spain, his cousins hadn’t quite bestirred themselves to argue his case. He’d heard Michael tried, and as for William … Gabriel hadn’t expected anything from him at all, and, from all reports, William hadn’t surprised him.

Guilt stirred low in his gut. He might say that he wanted nothing to do with his father’s family or the land and houses that now belonged to him, but he still took the income from the estates and used it. He wished he had the ability to throw it back in his solicitor’s face, but he had nothing else to live on, and so he lived as frugally as he could, his only extravagance his horses.

Gabriel drew his horse up behind the house where he rented his lodgings and dismounted. Mather, his groom, came out to take the horse into the mews and they spent a few minutes discussing the new stock and made plans for Gabriel’s ride in the morning. He had the perfect horse in mind for Miss Ross and his groom was in agreement.

Satisfied at least with the progress of his campaign to see Miss Ross again, Gabriel headed into the house. At the bottom of the stairs, Captain David Gray and his valet were just about to leave through the front door. Gabriel found them easy company and wasn’t foolish enough to inquire too closely as to their relationship. He had a sense that the two men were far more than servant and master, had seen them together at the pleasure house.

Captain Gray saw him first and smiled. “Good morning, Swanfield. Lieutenant St. Clare was looking for you earlier.”

“Good morning, Captain, Mr. Brown.” Gabriel nodded to both men and paused on the first step. “Is he still here?”

“I believe he is, sir.” Robert Brown, Captain Gray’s softly spoken Welsh valet said. “I saw him going up the stairs to his rooms.”

“Thank you.” Gabriel watched the men leave, noticed their ease with each other and the sense of closeness between them. Since enduring the hellish nature of captivity, he didn’t begrudge anyone happiness, even if it was with another man.

He climbed past his extensive set of rooms on the second floor and went on to the more cramped quarters of the old attic level, where Lieutenant Paul St. Clare lived when not on duty. Gabriel knocked on the door and received an invitation to enter. He opened the door and recoiled at the smell of cabbage.

“Good God, man, whatever are you eating?”

Paul grinned at him. “It’s soup. My aunt sent it over for me.” He held up the spoon. “Would you like some?”

Gabriel shuddered. Since his captivity, he’d become a fastidious eater, his stomach no longer able to tolerate rich food, but the cabbage soup didn’t appeal to him either. “Why don’t you come down to my rooms and share some luncheon with me? Keyes was preparing something with beef, I believe.”

“Thank you, I will. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

Gabriel turned back down the stairs and found his door key. “So Captain Gray said.” He went to unlock the door, only to have Keyes sweep it open instead. “Well, come on in.”

His space was in immaculate order. He liked it that way, everything in its place, no surprises, and no dark corners. Keyes bowed and led the way into the dining room.

“As soon as I heard the lieutenant was looking for you, sir, I made enough for two.”

“Thank you, Keyes.”

Gabriel sat down and surveyed the plates piled high with slices of beef and plain boiled potatoes. Despite his slender form, Paul usually ate enough for three men, so there should be plenty. Keyes poured them both some ale and left them be.

“What did you want to talk to me about, Paul?”

His companion paused to drink some ale and then put down his tankard. “Nothing too extraordinary, more of a coincidence, really. I’ve heard your name being bandied around rather a lot recently.”

“Really? By whom?”

Paul chewed slowly on his beef and swallowed. “There have been a couple of questions asked about you in the officer’s mess. One of your cousins was after your whereabouts, I believe. I didn’t tell him anything.”

Gabriel nodded. That might explain Michael’s unexpected appearance and far too pleasant manner. Was there some family matter Michael was loathe to bring to his attention or was he simply sounding out his cousin for his own benefit? As a younger son, Michael was always short of ready funds.

“And who else was asking after me?”

For the first time, Paul looked uncomfortable. “I’m not sure who was seeking information about you in the gentlemen’s clubs; I didn’t run into any of those people personally, just heard the rumbles.” He pushed his blond hair back off his face. “I did, however, share some information about you with a young lady of my acquaintance. I’m still not sure if I should’ve done so.”

“Let me guess.” Gabriel knew his smile wasn’t pleasant. “Was the young lady called Miss Ross?”

“Ah, you know her then?” A relieved smile appeared on Paul’s face. “I assumed you did, but after all the other inquiries as to your whereabouts, I became a little alarmed.”

“I know her.” Gabriel fought a shudder as he pictured her tongue probing the crown of his cock, her mouth drawing his shaft inside and letting him come down her throat. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her anything else.”

Paul paused, his knife halfway to his mouth. “You don’t like her?”

“At this precise moment, I’d like to wring her neck.”

“Then I can only apologize. I wanted her to hear the truth about your unfairly gained reputation. She seemed shocked that you had been treated so badly.”

“She did, did she?” Gabriel swallowed down more ale. “Don’t worry, Paul. I’ll take care of Miss Ross. She won’t be a problem for much longer.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that. She seems to be a very pleasant young lady.”

“Aye, she does.” Gabriel’s thoughts dwelled lovingly on the image of Miss Ross over his knee, her skirts thrown up to her waist, and his hand as it connected with her bare arse. Paul’s worried voice jerked him out of his daydream.

“Are you concerned about all this renewed gossip?”

“I’m not sure. As you know, I’d prefer to let matters lie and hope that eventually everything is forgotten, but I sense someone doesn’t want me to succeed.”

“That was my thought, too.” Paul leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the table. “Are you certain that you don’t wish to revive this matter with the military authorities? I have friends who could help us, could make sure that this time you receive a fair hearing.”

Gabriel sighed. “We’ve been over this a thousand times. What’s the point? I don’t care what anyone thinks of me anymore. The people who really know me know I would never betray my country like that, so who gives a damn about the others?”

Paul sat back, his brown eyes troubled. “I was there for most of your captivity. I know what really happened and I would be honored to speak for you.”

“I know that and I appreciate it, but there is no need.”

Paul persisted. “But in the future, for the sake of your family name, for your heirs …”

“I don’t intend to have any heirs. I’ve almost decided that the title should die with me and revert back to the Granger side of the family.” Gabriel grimaced. “They’ll be delighted.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

Paul’s dry tone made Gabriel look up and smile. “I thought so, too.”

Paul reached across for another slice of beef and winked at Gabriel. He still ate like a man who never knew where his next meal would come from, a legacy of their shared captivity that Gabriel had fought hard to shake. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind when you meet the right woman.”

Gabriel didn’t bother to reply. He feared he had already met the only woman who interested him, and the odds of Miss Ross agreeing to be his wife were too long for even the most optimistic of bookmakers to offer them. His amusement dimmed as he contemplated their meeting the next day. He suspected that escaping with any shred of dignity was the most he could hope for. Asking her to meet him again so that he could have her naked and writhing in his arms until they were both sated was a very distant possibility indeed.

Lisette studied the stark strokes of Lord Swanfield’s handwriting. His note was as short as most of his spoken sentences and just as infuriating. He wanted her to ride with him on the morrow and he would arrive at her house at eight, presumably with an extra horse.

“Is there something wrong, Lisette?”

She glanced up from the note to find her father, who had just handed her the message, studying her. “No, Papa, everything is fine.”

He gestured at the paper clenched in her hand. “Lord Swan-field seemed most insistent that he meet with you. Has he developed a tendre for you?”

“I doubt it.” Lisette tried to laugh. “He probably wants to kill me. I can’t see him.”

“Whatever did you do to the poor man?”

Lisette frowned at her father as he took a seat behind his desk. “Don’t you care that he might end my life?”

His smile was angelic. “Swanfield does not strike me as a man who takes offense very easily.”

Lisette sighed and sat down. “I played a trick on him, and I thought I was being very clever. Now I just feel ashamed of myself.”

“What kind of a trick?”

“The kind that is played at the pleasure house.”

“Ah. No man enjoys being sexually manipulated.”

“Or woman, Papa.”

“He manipulated you?”

“He … misrepresented himself to me.”

“And that made you angry enough to hurt him.”

Lisette felt like squirming in her seat. “I’m not sure if I was angry or just hurt that he had deceived me as to his sexual tastes.”

“So you saw him at the pleasure house and something about his sexual choices made you want to pay him back.”

“Yes.”

“Does he frequent the top floor?”

“Not as far as I know.” She studied her hands twisted in her lap. “His tastes are not unattractive to me; they are simply not what I thought he would indulge in at all.”

“Because he has such a strong personality in his normal life?” He smiled. “You might be surprised how some men and women crave the opposite in private. I’ve seen any number of aristocrats and members of Parliament who like nothing more than to be treated like naughty schoolboys or taken in hand by a strong woman.”

Lisette looked up, surprised by his acumen, and then remembered that he, too, held a financial interest in the pleasure house and knew almost as much about the members’ varied tastes as her mother.

Philip shrugged. “So you tricked him, and now he wants an explanation. I think you owe him one, don’t you?”

“Papa …”

“If he has the ability to hurt you, Lisette, you have the ability to hurt him back. At least allow the man the opportunity to tell you how he feels.”

Lisette bit her lip. “I thought you would support me, not tell me to do something so hard.”

Philip sat back. “Having spent more years of my life than I care to remember not speaking my mind and building up resentments and hatred, I’m scarcely going to support your desire to hide from the consequences of your actions, am I?”

“I suppose not.” Lisette got to her feet. “But if he strangles me and dumps my broken body in the Thames, I hope you’ll be sorry.”

“If that should happen, I’ll cry buckets at your funeral, I promise.”

“But you don’t think it will, do you?”

Philip’s smile was full of understanding. “Darling, he might be angry with you, but in order to feel angry he has to feel something and my guess is that he cares about your opinion of him.”

“Don’t say that. Now I feel even guiltier.”

“Good, then meet him in the morning and I promise to send a search party after you if you haven’t returned by midday.”

Lisette paused at the doorway to study her father. “You are not exactly a conventional man, are you?”

His smile was slow. “I married your mother. How on earth could I be?”

She smiled back at him even as her courage faltered when she contemplated her meeting with Lord Swanfield. “Good night, Papa.”

“Good night, my dear.”

Lisette headed for bed, knowing that her chances of sleeping were miniscule but determined to try. She had much to think on before the morning and perhaps as she tossed and turned she might come up with something useful to say to a probably furious Lord Swanfield.