A Winter Scandal (31 page)

“I have none to report, really. Or at least, nothing but failure. We have searched every foot of land around here, I think, and none of us spotted any sign of Jocelyn or Hannah.”

“I am so sorry.”

Gabriel sighed and sank down into the nearest chair. “Either she is too well hidden for me to find or she is not here.”

“What will you do now?”

“I have to keep looking for her. I gave up too easily before. It occurred to me that perhaps Jocelyn is not here. What if she left the baby here, then went to one of the other villages near here? Maybe she only sent Hannah over here the other day to see what she could find out about the baby. For all I know, Jocelyn has been in some other town this whole time, and she just sent Hannah to Chesley with the baby. Maybe Jocelyn was never at the ruins. That would seem more like the girl I knew.”

“Do you think she could be waiting to see how you receive Matthew before she comes here herself?”

“I would like to think she will come home, but I cannot count on it. In any case, I must explore farther afield.”

“Perhaps I could drive with you to Nyebourne, as we did to Bynford.”

He turned to her, his eyes heating. “I thought about it. I even considered borrowing Lady Wofford’s closed carriage, so you and I could ride together inside, closed off from all eyes.”

“Gabriel!” Thea could not help but smile even as her voice registered shock. Just the thought of what could happen inside a closed vehicle with Gabriel was enough to start a coil of warmth deep in her abdomen.

“What?” He widened his eyes innocently. “Surely you don’t think I meant to propose anything shocking or improper? Miss Bainbridge, I do believe it was your mind that immediately went to the possibility of something lewd transpiring in Lady Wofford’s carriage.”

“Me?” Thea laughed. “It was you! I could see what you intended in your eyes.”

“Miss Bainbridge, really …” He assumed a pious face. “You are imputing your own wicked thoughts to me. Whatever did you think we might do in a carriage, all alone?”

He reached out and took her hands, pulling her up and over onto his lap.

“Gabriel!” Thea cried out in protest as she wriggled and twisted, shoving halfheartedly at the arm he clamped across her waist to hold her down. “Someone might come in.”

“You just said your brother was not here.” He interspersed his words with kisses up the side of her neck. “And I’ll warrant it’s too late for Mrs. Brewster to still be about.” He seemed fascinated now by her ear, kissing and nibbling at it while his hand began to roam over her breasts.

“But … um …” Thea lost the train of her thoughts as his fingers began to circle her nipple in a most interesting way. “Oh, Gabriel.”

She could feel his breath on her skin as he chuckled, and it sent more shivers through her. His tongue traced the curves of her ear, and his hand slipped down to bunch up her skirts and slide beneath them, his fingers trailing up the inside of her thigh. He let out a low sound as he found the hot secret center of her, already damp with desire.

“Thea …” He breathed her name, burying his face in the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “I would like so much to take you with me. I dare swear we would have no rest the entire trip. And we could partake of a long lunch at the inn.”

His fingers stroked her gently, almost lazily, as he talked, sending shudders of unabashed hunger through her. Thea moved instinctively against him, and she felt him harden beneath her. She thought about turning and sitting astride him, imagining his reaction if she did.

From upstairs came the sound of footsteps, and Thea let out a groan of frustration.

“Lolly. Lolly is here with Matthew. And, of course, Peter, the footman you sent over.”

“Blast. We could lock the door.”

“It doesn’t lock,” Thea said regretfully. “Not to mention that it would be quite scandalous.”

Reluctantly, Gabriel released her. Thea stood up and moved away, making sure her clothes were straight and giving her cheeks time enough to cool.

“We cannot do it. Go together to Nyebourne, I mean.” Gabriel’s voice was clipped as he stood and went over to the fireplace, poking at the fire rather harder than was necessary. “Much as I would enjoy a trip with you, I cannot take the time for a leisurely journey. I need to cover as much ground as possible.”

“Of course,” Thea agreed colorlessly.

“I plan to go to all the towns around Chesley one after another. ’Twill be faster not to return home each day.”

“Oh.” Thea’s heart sank lower. “Then you will be gone several days.”

“I fear so.” The expression of regret and frustration on his face picked up Thea’s spirits a bit.

“Are you planning to return?”

“Of course!” Gabriel strode over to her, grasping her by the arms and looking down at her fiercely. “Believe me, there is nothing I look forward to more than coming back to you. And I promise that when I do, we will find some way to be alone and private.”

“For longer than a half hour?” Thea tossed back saucily.

Something in the smile he returned was wolfish. “For longer than a few days. It will take at least that much time to do all the things I keep imagining doing with you.”

Casting a quick glance past her out into the hallway, Gabriel pulled Thea to him and kissed her thoroughly. Finally his mouth left hers, and he held her tightly against him for a moment before letting her go.

“Hopefully I can live off that for a while.” He smiled faintly.

“Will your friends go out to look, too?”

“Myles offered, but I told him I wanted him to stay here and make sure you and Matthew are all right. We cannot trust that the fellow who took Matthew will not try again. So if you need anything or are frightened or suspicious for any reason, send a note to Myles at the Priory.”

“Very well.” Thea felt warmed by Gabriel’s making sure that she and Matthew would be protected. “But I am certain Peter will be more than enough. Nothing else has happened. You must have frightened him off.”

“Perhaps. Alan, I think, has decided that the lights of London are calling him,” Gabriel went on with a smile.

“Chesley has proved too dull?”

Gabriel’s smile widened. “I think it is more that Lady Wofford has civilized life at the Priory.”

“Oh. I see.”

“But he promised me he will check at the inns in the first few towns on the road to see if Jocelyn is there. Ian will take the northern road for me … provided he can withstand his lady’s determined pleas to return to Fenstone Park for Twelfth Night.”

“Will you be back for Twelfth Night?”

“I am resolved to. I do not intend to miss dancing with you. Or seeing how bewitching you look in a mask.”

“What nonsense.”

“Not nonsense at all.” He kissed her again and released her with a sigh. “Now, I must go.”

He made it to the doorway before turning around and coming back for another kiss … or three. Finally, he set her aside and strode from the room determinedly. Thea heard him in the kitchen, issuing last-minute instructions to Peter. She climbed the stairs and went to the window to watch Gabriel ride off down the street. With a sigh, she turned away, trying not to think about how lonely the next few days would be without him.

Before long, she knew, Gabriel would leave Chesley for good. His true homes were in London and on his estate. The Priory and Chesley—and she—were only diversions for him, ways for a bored aristocrat to amuse himself. To dare dream anything else would be setting herself up for misery.

Thea opened a dresser drawer and drew out the small box Gabriel had given her. She gazed at the set of garnet earrings inside the box, touching the jewels with a tender finger. What had this present meant to Gabriel? She was afraid to put too much hope in such a thing as a gift. After all, even a vicar’s sister from a small village was worldly enough to know that wealthy bachelors often gave jewels to the women they set up as their mistresses. It was entirely possible that the earrings were simply in return for her having given herself to him, a sort of sophisticated thank-you. Or perhaps it was what a man such as Gabriel did to ease the sting of parting.

She slipped the earrings out of the box and into her ears. She was not going to wear them anywhere, but it couldn’t hurt to just try them on. Thea turned her head, admiring the way the light caught the deep-red jewel, the glittering gold. They would look splendid with the dress Damaris was lending her.

Thea shook her head impatiently. She could not let herself think this way. She pulled the earrings from her ears and set them back in the box, closing the lid firmly. They must stay hidden away, just like her relationship with Gabriel. Nothing could have spoken more clearly about any future she might have with him than that fact—she and Lord Morecombe were a cause for gossip, for scandal, because everyone knew that there was no chance of marriage between them. If he dangled after her, he would not be looking for a wife.

She had known that from the beginning. Perhaps Damaris was right, and she was not so plain. But Damaris was wrong in suggesting that Gabriel had any long-lasting interest in Thea. He was a sophisticate; she was a church mouse. This was the most wonderful, exciting period of her life, but to Gabriel it was only a brief interlude, easily forgotten.

Thea sighed and turned away from the dresser. The next few days were, she feared, going to be only a foretaste of what her life would soon be like. A life without Gabriel.

Seventeen

W
ith a great deal of
surprise, Thea answered the knock on her front door two days later and found Lady Wofford standing on her doorstep. Belatedly, she realized she was staring, and she stepped back. “Lady Wofford. Please, come in.”

“Thank you, Miss Bainbridge.” Lady Wofford nodded and swept in, taking her hands out of her fur muff and glancing around expectantly.

Thea realized that the woman was looking for a servant to take her outerwear from her. Thea smothered a smile and reached out for the muff. “Here, allow me.”

“Oh. Oh, of course.” Emily handed her the muff, followed by her fur-trimmed pelisse, clearly somewhat uncomfortable at her hostess’s performing such a menial task. She gave Thea a determined smile. “Things are so much more … informal in the country, are they not?”

“Indeed, Lady Wofford, I am afraid I have little to compare it to. I have lived here all my life.”

“Yes, of course.” Emily’s smile wavered a bit, but she went on, “It must be quite … reassuring to have known everyone here all your life. I grew up in London, you see. I am a bit of a fish out of water here. I fear that perhaps I have made the wrong impression on you. So I hoped we might start again. We are, after all, cousins, are we not?”

Thea softened. She had, perhaps, judged the woman too harshly. Chesley must be quite a change from London. And the circumstances under which Lady Wofford had met Thea had been decidedly peculiar; she could not blame her, she supposed, for looking at Thea rather askance.

“Of course.” Thea offered a more genuine smile to her unexpected guest. “Would you like some tea?”

Thea showed her to the sitting room, then popped into the kitchen to ask Mrs. Brewster to bring the tea tray. She suspected that Lady Wofford found it odd, too, that Thea had not simply rung for a servant. Thea settled down on the chair across from the other woman, and silence descended on them.

Finally Thea said, “I hope you are enjoying your stay in Chesley.”

“Indeed, Lord Morecombe is an excellent host. Of course, he and Lord Wofford have known each other since they were children. He comes from an excellent family.”

Thea made some murmur of agreement.

“Do you know his family?” Emily asked after another short silence.

“No, I have not had the pleasure.”

“His sister is a lovely girl. I was quite surprised when she became engaged to Lord Rawdon. Very long lineage, of course, but, well … somewhat suspect, nevertheless. I am sure you know what I mean; you are one of the Bainbridges, after all.”

“One of the lesser branches, I’m afraid.” Thea managed not to add anything sharper.

“Oh, dear, have I offended you? Are you a friend of Lord Rawdon?”

“He has not offered me a reason to dislike him. I cannot say that I know him well.”

“Of course.” Lady Wofford glanced around, and Thea suspected that she was counting down the minutes until she could politely leave. Thea was rather counting them, as well.

Fortunately, Mrs. Brewster brought in the tea tray, and they were able to expend a few minutes on the ritual of tea before the silence became awkward again.

“How is the … um … child?” Lady Wofford asked. “The one you found in the church? Such a remarkable thing. I am not sure I have ever heard the like.”

“Yes, it was most unusual. He is well. Would you like to see him?”

Alarm touched Lady Wofford’s face and was quickly covered. “Oh, my, no, no reason to disturb him. I gather no one in the village saw who left him there.”

“No. No one that we have found.”

“Well, we must not dwell on such unpleasant topics. Do you plan to attend Mrs. Howard’s Twelfth Night party? Sir Myles and Lord Morecombe seem to be quite looking forward to it.”

“Yes, my brother and I will be there. Will you and Lord Wofford attend, as well?”

“If we are still here, I suspect we will. No doubt it will be most entertaining. However, I know that Lord Fenstone is most eager for us to return to the Park. Such a lovely place, even in the winter. I believe you have been there?”

“Yes, a few times.”

“A beautiful estate.” Lady Wofford’s smile was a more genuinely pleased one than Thea had seen on her face before. “Now, there is an elegant ballroom. And the long gallery—I enjoy strolling there and looking at all the former earls and countesses.”

This seemed an odd pastime to Thea, but she refrained from saying so. She merely smiled and nodded during the woman’s detailed description of the gown she would wear to the Twelfth Night ball if they remained in town. Thea found it a great relief when Emily made her polite good-byes a few minutes later. Thea arose from her seat, hoping that the movement did not look too much like a leap for joy. She saw the woman to the door, helping her on with her pelisse and handing her the muff and hat. When Lady Wofford at last started down the path toward her carriage, Thea closed the door and leaned back against it with a sigh of relief.

Lady Wofford had been more pleasant, it was true, but the result had been, well, boring. Thea could not help but wonder if Lady Wofford’s style of conversation was typical of the ladies of the
ton.
Was Lady Wofford a true example of her breed? If so, Thea thought with some dismay, nothing could demonstrate more clearly the enormous gulf that lay between her world and Gabriel’s. He might enjoy Thea while he was here, but his real life, the one that awaited him back in London, would have no place for her.

Gabriel strode past the ruins
of the abbey, glad to be off his horse after three straight days of riding, broken only by going into inns to question the innkeepers. He had stopped at the Priory only long enough to stable his mount and clean up before he set out for the vicarage. He was a trifle stiff and tired, but none of that weighed against the hunger to see Thea.

If anyone had told him a year ago that he would miss any woman as much as he had missed Thea the past few days, he would have laughed. Much as he enjoyed the company of women, never had one’s absence caused him more than a twinge of regret or loneliness. After all, there had always been another woman to take her place, whether she be a lady or a lightskirt. Never before had he sat by himself in front of a fireplace of an evening mooning over a woman, instead of going to the tavern to entertain himself with drink and a hand of cards—and probably a tavern wench for his bed, as well.

Each evening of his journey, he had gone into the public room of the inn to have an ale and ask the patrons if they had seen Jocelyn or Hannah. But invariably he found himself thinking what Thea would say about this tavern guest or that and what he would answer in reply. He wanted to tell her what he had done that day and what he had learned. Any attempts at cards or dice soon palled, and the tavern wenches seemed much too dull-witted for him to enjoy flirting with them. Once he had discovered all the information he could, he soon went up to his bed.

Absurd as it seemed, his time with Thea appeared to have spoiled him for anyone else’s company. The loneliness and the boredom were bad enough, but worst of all, he could not keep from lusting after her. The rides from village to village left him with ample time to think, and most of his thoughts consisted of recalling the all-too-brief occasions when he had made love to Thea. These were broken up primarily by visions of coupling with her in the future, along with a smattering of innovative ideas concerning ways to get her alone. As a result, he had spent almost his entire trip in frustrated arousal.

He had done his best to stop thinking about her mane of wild curls and how it had looked floating down around her shoulders and over her breasts, the tendrils parting just enough for the pink-tipped nipples to peek through, tantalizing and beckoning, as she sat astride his hips, riding him to her climax. Or the way her hair had tumbled over the pillow, spread out like a fan from her head, as he sank deep within her, driven by a heated desire so intense it was almost pain. He remembered the glisten of her nipple, damp from his mouth, the slick satin of her nether lips beneath his fingers. He remembered the soft touch of her fingers on his bare skin, the taste of her tongue in his mouth, the soft moan of her passion in his ear.

It had been the very devil getting to sleep every night. He told himself to choose a likely wench from the tavern to slake his thirst. That had always been his way in the past if he lusted after a lady he could not have, and it had worked well enough. But no longer, apparently. None of the women he saw about him appealed—this one was too short, that one too coarse, the other too overripe. The truth was, not one of them caused a single spike to his desire, and he had the distinct suspicion that if he bedded any of them, there would be no lessening of his need for Thea. What he wanted was to feel her long legs wrapped around him, her lips exploring his skin, her sweet mysteries opening to him.

The realization was astounding … and just a bit frightening.

Was he doomed to spend the rest of his life on this knife edge of desire? Desperate and hungry, panting after a woman whom only two or three weeks ago he had scarcely noticed? It was mad. Nonsensical.

What he ought to do, he told himself, was go back to London until this madness passed. There, among the beauties of the city, he would forget those cool gray eyes and the way they sparkled when she was amused. His fingers would stop itching to sink into her hair and pull it down, sending the pins flying. He would not spend every waking minute dreaming of losing himself in her, vaulting into that dark, blissful abyss.

But it was even more nonsensical to tear himself away from her when all he wanted was to see her again. What he really needed, he knew, was to find some way to be with her all the time, to drink his fill, to expend his lust in long, heated nights of lovemaking. The answer would be a week or two … or three … alone with her. What he wanted was something like a … a honeymoon.

That idea brought him up short. Was he actually thinking of marriage? Surely not. He enjoyed his life as a bachelor. Someday he would marry to carry on the line, but that would not be anytime soon. One did not marry simply because a certain woman drove him mad with lust. There must be much more than that … companionship and similarity of interest, for example. Love, if one was lucky. Gabriel had come to a stop, deep in thought, and now he glanced around himself. He had reached the graveyard of the church. He looked across the river, where the dark block of the vicarage lay. A warm light burned from behind the windows. He looked up at the second floor, wondering if the lit window there was Thea’s bedroom.

Desire, never far from the surface lately, surged up in him. Whatever was he doing, standing among the gravestones, when the woman he had been thinking of for the past three days was only a few yards away from him?

He strode rapidly past the church and across the bridge. His knock on the front door came quite close to pounding. He waited, every nerve raw, until the door swung open. Thea stood in the doorway, light bathing her from the candelabra on the table beside her. She wore a plain dark dress, and a kerchief covered her head.

She looked utterly beautiful.

“Thea.” He stepped inside, sweeping her up into his arms in the same motion, and fastened his mouth to hers.

She threw her arms around his neck, fervently returning his kiss. Frustrated by his heavy coat, he reached between them, undoing the buttons and shoving the sides apart. He could feel the swell of her breasts as she pressed into his chest, the pert, hard thrust of her nipples. Gabriel tore the kerchief from Thea’s head and plunged his hands into her hair, holding her head still as his lips found hers again.

Gabriel kissed her as if he would consume her, his mouth leaving hers only to change the angle of their kiss, and all the while he kissed her, his hands roamed her body hungrily, sweeping down her back and curving over her hips. When Thea pulled away, he reached instinctively to draw her back, but she took his hand and tugged, leading him down the hall and into the sitting room.

Thea closed the door behind them, saying, “Daniel is away; he won’t be back—”

Her words were cut off by Gabriel, who, having shrugged out of his topcoat and dropped it on the floor, took her in his arms again. “The others?” he asked thickly, raining kisses over her face and neck.

“They’re in the kitchen, making supper.”

He walked her back until she came up against the door, continuing to kiss her. Bunching her skirts up, he slid his hands beneath her petticoats and in between her legs, caressing her through the cloth of her undergarments. Finding the tie of her pantalets, he jerked it loose and shoved them down and off, his hand seeking out the soft, slick folds of flesh. The sound of Thea’s breath catching in her throat sent his hunger surging even higher.

“Sweet heaven, I’ve missed you,” he breathed. “I could think of nothing but you.”

Her answer was only a soft moan as his fingers teased and stroked, bringing her to the trembling edge of satisfaction. He reached down and unbuttoned his breeches, and his engorged manhood sprang free. Thea’s fingers curled around him, and he stiffened all over, struggling to hold on to his control. Her fingers were maddeningly soft and caressing as they moved slowly over him, and his passion swelled even higher.

He reached beneath her hips, lifting her, and Thea went to him eagerly, opening her legs and wrapping them around him. He slid into her with a motion so achingly pleasurable that he had to sink his teeth into his lower lip to keep from crying out. Gabriel braced her against the door and began to move inside her. He dropped his head to her neck, muffling his hoarse, muttered words against her flesh. The need was so fierce in him he thought he must explode, and yet it continued to build, pushing him ever closer to the edge. There was nothing in the world but this moment, Thea’s body surrounding him, her long legs clasping him to her, his driving need buried deep in her softness, the two of them melded together in a white-hot joining.

He heard the soft noise that issued from Thea’s throat as he felt her convulse around him, and the world shattered into pleasure. Passion swept through him in a massive wave as he shuddered against her, his seed pouring into her.