The Regency Season: Passionate Promises. Ann Lethbridge
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They broke their embrace. ‘Turn around,’ Nicky said. ‘Let me look at you.’
Minette spun around and her skirt gently swayed with her movement.
Christine discreetly withdrew.
‘Freddy will be dazzled,’ Nicky said. ‘I can’t believe you two...’ Her words trailed off and she cast Minette an enquiring look. A look of concern as well as love.
‘I know,’ Minette said, putting all the joy and lightness in her words and expression she did not feel deep inside. ‘It came as quite a shock to us, too. Who would have guessed that what we thought was dislike was something else entirely?’
She could not bring herself to say the word ‘love’. It would be too much of a lie. Even for her. She let her gaze take in her sister, who was dressed in the high fashion of a married woman. The deep turquoise suited her and disguised the coming of a child. ‘You look lovely.’
Nicky smiled. ‘Gabe loves this colour.’ She gave Minette a sly smile. ‘And when you are married you won’t be stuck with boring old white.’ She tipped her head. ‘Though I must say you are one of the fortunate few who has the colouring to carry it off.’
They linked arms and headed downstairs.
At the foot of the staircase, two men looked up at the sound of their steps. Both men were dark. Both men were undeniably handsome in their own way. Gabe an absolute charmer with a smile that could melt the hardest of hearts. Naturally he had eyes for no one but Nicky.
Freddy was a very different story. Although his gaze showed approval as he took Minette in from her head to her feet, there was little warmth in him. He used to smile when they had first met years ago. Not at her, but at things Gabe had said. Male humour at things unspoken but understood. He’d even smiled at Nicky from time to time, like a brother at a sister. But where she was concerned, for the most part she’d felt only cool distance.
A layer of ice like a wall to keep her out that seemed to have grown thicker over time.
She wanted to take a hammer to it. Shatter it. Find the man beneath. She’d prefer active dislike to this chilly indifference.
As they reached the bottom step, both men stepped forward, Gabe to take Nicky’s arm, his eyes awash with his love as he gazed at his wife, and Freddy to present her with a small posy in a silver holder. The flowers matched those in her hair, but these were real. She took the offering with a curtsey. ‘Thank you. How clever of you to find exactly the right shade.’
An expression flashed across his face and if it hadn’t been impossible she might have thought he was pleased. ‘Lady Mooreshead offered her aid.’
Disappointment flickered to life. No doubt Nicky had arranged the whole thing. ‘Thank you, Nicky.’
Her sister gave her an odd look. ‘I merely informed His Grace of the colour. No more.’
Gabe was frowning at them as if he sensed something wrong. Minette brought the posy to her nose. ‘They are perfect.’
Freddy leaned forward and kissed her cheek, a brief hot brush of his lips across her skin. ‘You are welcome,’ he said silkily.
As she met his blue-black gaze she had the impression of heat flaring in their depths. An act for the benefit of others? Or something more?
Coolly, deliberately, he set her away. ‘I believe it is time we left.’
* * *
As the carriage rocked through the night, Freddy relaxed against the squabs and contemplated the woman he was to marry. Lovely. Beautiful. The words didn’t do justice to the vision he’d witnessed walking down the stairs of Gabe’s townhouse. Freddy didn’t have the words to express what he had felt inside him. She was, of course, both of those things, but she was so much more. Warmth. Light. Joy. And there was also darkness. A shadow that lingered around her as if waiting to blanket her inner glow.
If only she would trust him enough to tell him what caused those shadows. To let him help overcome her dragons. But then again, he didn’t have the right to her trust. They might be getting married, but they would never be a husband and a wife in the truest sense.
It was his cross to bear.
How he had managed to hide the jolt of lightning that had coursed through his blood the moment his lips had touched her silky skin, he wasn’t sure. He was still reeling from the effects of their other physical contacts. His body wanted her. Hungered for her. And now she was his. Or would be soon.
He didn’t deserve her. In the years since he had been Gabe’s apprentice, he’d washed his hands in so much blood he’d become insensitive to death and destruction. He’d become a tool for the use of his country. Of Sceptre in particular. Weeding out spies and traitors without fear or favour. It was his role. His purpose. He needed it or he’d be nothing.
And now he was to be a husband to a young woman who, while stubborn and reckless, had always seemed to embody what was right and good with the world. The world of youthful hope for the future. A world in which he’d never belonged. She’d always looked at him in a way that made him think she could see right into his darkness. His unworthiness. No wonder she talked of crying off as soon as the dust settled. A kiss in the dark with a dangerous man in the hope of bending him to her will was one thing, but marriage to such a man was a very different matter.
It was too late for second thoughts.
Honour required that he offer marriage. Honour required that he see it through no matter what. At least he had that much honour left.
The glow of the streetlights flickered across her face, her expression changing with each pass of the light so that it was like watching a disjointed progression of thoughts. Thoughts he could only guess at.
His task was clear. He had to make her want to marry him. Use her passionate nature against her reason. Woo her. Blind her to his faults. Once they were wed, she could do as she pleased.
He realised his hands had curled into tight fists. Anger. Frustration. Regret. So much emotion, when he usually experienced none. Minette made him feel too much. And feelings hurt. He relaxed his hands, glad of the deep shadows inside the carriage.
‘How on earth did you manage to extract an invitation from Lady Craddock?’ Nicky asked her husband. ‘I know she didn’t plan to invite us, because the invitations went out weeks ago and we didn’t receive one.’
‘Craddock belongs to my club,’ Gabe said. His teeth flashed white with a smile. ‘I put him in the way of a good investment.’
‘I wager Lady Craddock was none too pleased,’ Freddy said. The Craddocks, like Sparshott, were part of his mother’s clique. They and their high-stickler friends saw themselves as the most important in the land because their roots went far back in the annals of England. Above even the royal house of Hanover, which had thrown its full support behind Mooreshead on the occasion of his marriage to a woman who could have been considered an enemy.
‘Let us hope she is too well bred to show her displeasure,’ Gabe said,