Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace (26 page)

At first, he had thought the girl too forward in her assessment of Lord and Lady Worthing, but as their acquaintance grew, he had discovered Miss Haverty simply repeated the vile expurgations her parents spouted. He could only hope to fill the girl’s head with more accommodating opinions once they married. He would not have his children brought up with censorious ideas.

The lady leaned closer and said softly, “Lord Abbott has informed me that since your return to London there have been two recent attacks on your life, my Lord. Should either my family or I feel a looming danger?”

If Gabriel had thought her truly concerned, he might have sympathized and have acted personally to allay the girl’s fears, but Miss Haverty had listened to his rival, Lord Abbott. He would not deign to bring notice to the charges. “I assure you neither you nor your family should experience the least qualms in this matter. I was the victim of a probable robbery, and, by coincidence, was nearby when a gentleman’s personal weapon fired unexpectedly. Nothing more than being in the wrong place,” he assured.

“Twice?” Miss Haverty said with a bit of sass.

Gabriel stroked her arm above her gloves to distract her. “Have you not heard of evil coming in multiples?” he said evenly. He did not know what irritated him more: The fact the lady would repeat Lord Abbott’s manipulations or the fact his touch had no effect on Miss Haverty. It was quite a sobering realization.

*

Shepherd paced the open area before his desk. “I do not like it. There were three attacks within a month–two within three days, but nothing for over a fortnight.” He jammed his fingers into his hair in apparent frustration. “I would welcome a cessation of these strikes, but I am not of the persuasion they have ended.”

“Neither am I,” Gabriel said dolefully. Nothing, of late, had gone as it should. As much as he hated to ask, he said, “Is there any news of Miss Nelson?”

Shepherd resumed his seat. From behind a massive mahogany desk, he fished through a stack of papers. “We have located the family with whom Miss Nelson resided while she was in London. The Gleesons appear clear of suspicion. They simply let Miss Nelson a room.” He placed the paper to the side before selecting another from the stack. “The lady traveled north by public coach, reportedly as far as Cambridgeshire, but somewhere near Huntingdon, Miss Nelson switched to private transportation, and we lost her trail.”

“Do we know which agency arranged the employment?” Gabriel’s heart raced in anticipation.

Shepherd’s frown lines knitted. “Not yet. The agency was not a London establishment. Neither was it one in Lancashire. We will continue to check, but it may take some time before we locate the correct contact. Moreover, we must consider whoever placed Miss Nelson in the lady’s current position may choose to keep her employee’s identity and location a private affair. Miss Nelson is not accused of a crime,” Shepherd said tentatively.

Gabriel grumbled, “Only because I have not gotten my hands on the woman…” But the image of his hands roaming across Grace Nelson’s naked flesh ripped what he wanted to say from his mind. Stammering, he said, “We must…must question the woman. Miss Nelson holds the key to this mystery.” He noted Shepherd’s raised eyebrow, but Gabriel ignored his governmental contact’s cynicism.

Shepherd closed the file on his desk and leaned into the chair’s soft leather. “You must know I will not rest until we solve this matter.”

Gabriel nodded his understanding. “I have known your protection for many years, and I am grateful for all you have done for me.”

Shepherd smiled knowingly, and Gabriel wondered what had brought on the man’s sudden familiarity. For as long as he had known the man, Shepherd had remained detached from their missions. He had always assumed the man had maintained his distance in order to make difficult decisions. “Have you ever considered, Godown, how you came to my attention?”

“I have always assumed my father’s title had something to do with it,” Gabriel said honestly.

Shepherd aimlessly tapped a pencil against the chair arm. “Exactly, I was familiar with your grandfather.”

This was news to Gabriel. Interest piqued, he said, “I held no idea.”

An amused twist of Shepherd’s mouth spoke of a private joke. “Actually, your grandfather once told me I would amount to nothing but an insignificant clerk.”

Gabriel’s own amusement grew. “Obviously, my family possessed no notion of your true worth to England.” He paused, “I am surprised that under the circumstances you took pity on my situation. If you had not intervened, I would have been banished from England forever.”

Shepherd smiled widely. “I had my reasons beyond my kind heart.”

“And those would have been?” Gabriel asked suspiciously.

Shepherd sat forward as if sharing a secret. “Mainly because I have been in love with Rosabel Crowden for some five and thirty years.”

“With Aunt Bel?” Gabriel said incredulously. “You saved me from Templeton because of Her Grace?”

Shepherd frowned with the mention of Bel’s position as a duke’s wife. “Your aunt came to me when the situation with Templeton escalated. It would have driven the former marquis crazy to know the man he had once thought so lowly was the one to save his grandson and the title.”

Gabriel asked, “Did you save me as some sort of perverted revenge?”

Shepherd said honestly, “I never considered anything but a means to relieve Rosabel’s distress. I knew she would never have come to me unless she thought the situation dire. It would have pricked her pride.”

“I find my debt to Her Grace grows by the day,” Gabriel said simply. “But why tell me this now?”

“Initially, I kept quiet because the knowledge of our connection would have interfered with the group’s interactions if any of your unit thought we held a prior acquaintance. It would have undermined the trust required from each of you.” Gabriel found he agreed with Shepherd’s analysis. “And, secondly,” the man continued, “as I hope to soon claim the role of your uncle, I thought you should know.”

“You have asked Aunt Bel to marry you?” Gabriel exclaimed.

Shepherd smiled with satisfaction. “I have, and Rosabel has agreed to make me the happiest of men.”

Gabriel extended his hand in genuine regard. “If Aunt Bel can find happiness, I would be more than pleased to welcome you to the family.”

Shepherd appeared relieved. “Rosabel and I have agreed to limit those who know our plans until we have the opportunity to speak privately with the current Duke of Granville.”

Gabriel’s grin faded. “Cousin Hyatt will not be pleased to have his mother marry a man without a title. “

“That is where you will repay my ‘kindness,’” Shepherd said lightly. “I expect you to champion my cause within your family.”

Gabriel stood. “It is the least I can do. You have my support.” He started toward the door. “This news will irritate Thornhill to know of our new connection. I will keep your secret for now, but you must promise you will permit me to tell Fowler. It already rubs His Grace raw to know you support Kerrington’s ascension to high office.”

“I will permit you the pleasure of bringing Thornhill more pain,” Shepherd followed Gabriel to the door.

With a deep steadying sigh, Gabriel shared, “For the next week, I am to Lincolnshire for the Brants’ Winter Ball.”

“Then you still pursue Miss Haverty?” Gabriel noted Shepherd’s frown of disapproval, but the man kept his opinions from his tone.

“I do,” Gabriel said simply. “If things go well during this house party, I will propose to the lady. I would prefer the business complete before Christmastide.”

“You must do what is best, Godown. Just remember marriage is forever.” Shepherd held the door for him. Gabriel refrained from a response. What could he say? He already felt the impact of forever on his soul.

*

Two days later, Gabriel braced himself against the sway of the carriage over the poorly tended roads. He had declined the Havertys’ offer to join them in their coach. “It will take all my resolve to withstand the inane chatter of Miss Haverty and her parents over the next week,” he had mused aloud. It had been “heaven” last evening as he had taken accommodations at an inn not on Mr. Haverty’s itinerary. Although not of the first tier, the small inn permitted him time to reexamine his choices–to determine if he could tolerate a lifetime married to Alice Haverty. “Do I possess a choice?” he asked himself for the hundredth time. His aunts had assured him they had spoken quite honestly with Mrs. Haverty regarding his immediate need for an heir, and the lady had agreed to prepare her daughter for the marriage bed.

“Miss Haverty will likely be nothing more than a stiff board beneath me,” he grumbled. “A lifetime of such dubious pleasures.” He sighed deeply as the image of a slender neck and a tight knot of chestnut-colored hair resting at Grace Nelson’s nape arrived uninvited. “An heir and a spare,” he said dismally, “and then I can return to my former ways. I owe my title my contrition, but I will tolerate no more once the lady produces the male line. Then, my marquise may live at Gossling Hill with our children, and I will remain at Fugol Hall with my Parliamentary duties and my discreet associations. We will be the perfect example of an English aristocratic marriage.”

Although he certainly had his vices, Gabriel had never considered himself as depraved. That is until he had entered Lord and Lady Brant’s home some eight and forty hours prior. He had thought the Havertys censorious, but they were amateur critics compared to the Brants. It was not as if the Brants were Evangelicals and steeped in religion; they were simply stringent in their living. His hosts, for example, served only one glass of wine with supper.

“A man must keep his wits about him,” Lord Brant had declared the first evening of the gathering. Instead of port and cigars for the men after the meal, his host had strong tea served with a large dose of very strict opinions.

Multiple times, Gabriel had bitten back the retort that had sprung to his lips. He had thought he might require several decanters of brandy to tolerate Lord Brant’s company. Instead, he had traced aimless circles on the rim of his wine glass. He had told himself he would survive this boredom, marry Miss Haverty, take her to Gossling Hill, and then never subject himself to Brant’s company again. But just in case, he had sent Mr. Sanders to the village to secure several bottles of liquid courage. Twice today, he had refilled his flask from the bottles his valet has snuck into Gabriel’s chambers.

Last evening, he would have preferred a game of cards to the parlor games Lady Brant had organized, but it seemed cards, especially those that involved wagers, were the devil’s making. The Brants’ attitudes went a long way in explaining why less than a dozen of the ton had accepted the viscount’s hospitality.

“May I refill your tea, Lord Godown?” Miss Haverty had asked with a shy smile. Gabriel wondered if she was as innocent as he first thought or whether she had practiced pleasing mannerisms, just as she had practiced how to pour tea without spilling even one drop. She was a conundrum he was not certain he wished to unravel.

“No, thank you,” he said cordially. It was not the lady’s fault she had been saddled with parents who lacked sensibility. “I believe I have had enough.”

“Would you join us for the games, my Lord?” she said politely.

Gabriel forced a smile to his lips. “Only if I might convince you to address the Brants’ instrument first. You truly have a remarkable voice.” He had not flattered the woman. When he had first heard Miss Haverty play and sing, he thought it angelic. If he could importune her to entertain them regularly, then he might form affection for her. He certainly did not want to spend hours being intimate with a woman who possessed no admirable qualities other than a comely countenance. He would build upon those things he enjoyed about the girl.

“If you insist, my Lord,” she said meekly.

Gabriel lowered his voice. “Miss Haverty, I would have you play and sing because it brings me joy. But I would forego those pleasures if you find doing so makes you uncomfortable. Our relationship must not be one where my demands are met by your obedience.”

Her eyes grew in size. “I fear I do not understand, my Lord. Do you wish a wife who would defy your wishes?”

Gabriel wished to take her hand. To caress her arm. To make her more at ease with him. “I am saying I would never purposely place you in a situation that embarrasses or defiles you. If you ever experience the slightest angst, you must tell me so at once. I will understand.”

“Do you speak with honesty, my Lord?” she whispered anxiously.

“Absolutely. I wish you only the best.”

*

When he had returned from a long pounding ride, Gabriel found Lord Abbott in the drawing room with Lady Brant, Mrs. Haverty, and Alice Haverty. The future earl and Miss Haverty shared a settee.

“Abbott.” He bowed to the viscount. “I was unaware of your joining us.” Gabriel purposely sat across from the couple.

“I was as surprised as you, my Lord,” Miss Haverty said with the first genuine smile Gabriel had observed upon her lips in nearly a fortnight.

Lord Abbott had come to his feet upon Gabriel’s entrance, but now he reclaimed his seat beside Miss Haverty. “I had told the Havertys I could not attend, but my plans changed. Thankfully, Lady Brant opened her doors to a weary traveler.”

Gabriel paused before asking, “Then it was Miss Haverty who extended the invitation?” Only last evening he had attempted to find some common ground upon which to build a relationship, but he would not bed a woman who preferred another. A marriage of convenience would be difficult enough without either of them having his heart engaged elsewhere. Immediately, his thoughts fell to Miss Nelson. What a hypocrite he was! His heart had known another, but that information was beside the point. He had put any good feelings he possessed for Grace Nelson aside. He was sincerely set on becoming a worthy match for Miss Haverty.

The lady blushed thoroughly. “Oh, no, my Lord!” she protested. “It was nothing of the sort.”

“Of course, it was not. You are not the type of female to vie one admirer against another,” Gabriel said with a bit of sarcasm.