Gabe’s indignant gaze returned to Mary. Her hips swayed, her stomach rippled, and her hands had begun to roam her own form in between the removal of each skirt layer. Now, as the volume of her skirts diminished, he noted that she wore naught but silver embroidered purple cuffs at her ankles and bared feet.
Abruptly, the anger that had wound its way through his heart since the moment that Mary had walked through the doors of Grimsbury Manor washed away. He wanted to glare furiously at her, to berate her, to blame Mary for joining the Secret Service, becoming an actress, and for attracting other men, because that was familiar. But what he felt was sad. She’d been corrupted. This was not the same Mary that blushed so easily and played in the open fields with him as children.
His heart sank further.
How many men had been so delighted by this display of hedonism that they retired with her to their beds? Gabe wagered there were far too many.
Perhaps Colin was right; perhaps Gabe should just take her into his own bed and be done with it. For too long, Gabe had held on to a deep, hidden belief—nay,hope—that Mary was still the same girl from his youth, but this overtly seductive woman was not someone that he knew. This woman was nothisMary, which led him to a distressing conclusion.
He needed to say goodbye.
Making love to Mary would satisfy this desire for her that had been growing within him, and it would officially put to rest any notion of his “rescuing” her from men lusting after her. For then he wouldbeone; he would join the ranks of men that’d had the pleasure of taking “Miss Mary White” to his bed.
He watched as she slid her hands over her womanly curves and up until she reached her hair. With one strategic, gentle tug, her hair dropped in rivulets down her back and over her shoulders.
Yes. He would most definitely enjoy bedding her. And he was certain that she would agree to a night with him, if her kisses were any indication.
Mary started a new combination of her flicking and circular hip motions, each doing delectable things to the soft flesh of her stomach.
All that remained of her skirts was one layer, so thin as to be insignificant. Each man in the room, excepting Gabriel, wore one or more of her skirt layers over their shoulders. He tamped down on the irritation that swamped him after that realization.
Never mind them, he told himself, you will have her in your bed and those traitorous scoundrels will not. Of course, he would have to bide his time with taking her; finding and acquiring those documents took precedence over his lust for Mary. But, he was certain, bedding her would be all the more worth it for the wait.
Several more minutes passed in which the only sounds in the pink, floral drawing room were heavy breathing and thetinklingof Mary’s chained silver coins. Gabriel watched, enraptured, as Mary captivated the room.
Soon, her performance was at its conclusion. She entered her final stance, the backs of her hands touching high above her head, her chest extended outward, her hip cocked, and one knee bent. Her audience remained silent for several moments, so stunned by her remarkable talents that they did not react.
Mary’s expression became unsure, and Gabe was released from his stunned silence. He clapped his hands loudly, the others quickly following suit. There were several shocking whistles and shouts of “Brava!” and “Encore!” as the audience rose to their feet.
Gabe watched as Lord Kerr indiscreetly handed several bank notes to Lord Boxton, apparently having lost their wager.
* * *
Mary wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders as Lord Reddington attempted to slide his hand within.
“Come, Mary,” he whispered hotly into her ear. “I promise to give you as much pleasure as you can handle…and then some more. Come to me tonight.”
Mary smiled as warmly as she could. “You know I cannot.”
“I am sure—”
“Shall we retire, sweetling?” Reddington appeared distinctly disgruntled as Gabe appeared beside her. “I find myself in dire need of rest.”
She looked up at Gabe with her heart in her eyes as his arm slid around her waist. “But of course, my dear Tony.”
Reddington scoffed, dismayed, asTonyushered her from the room.
Mary could feel the tension from Gabe as they walked to their bedchamber. He had been displeased with her position before this evening; she could not fathom the vehemence of his disapprovalafterwitnessing her performance. She supposed she had no choice but to endure a stern set-down once they reached their bedchamber.
The door came up far too quickly and Mary stood aside while Gabe pressed the latch.
She entered, busying herself with finding a night rail and performing her ablutions in preparation for sleep. Several minutes passed in silence while she readied herself. She donned her night rail and wrapper, then removed herself behind the privacy screen with her toiletries.
And yet…Gabriel said nothing.
She paused in the midst of aggressively brushing tooth powder over her teeth to peek around the privacy screen. There sat Gabriel at the small round table, quietly practicing his patience. He casually flipped over a card and furrowed his brow in concentration.
Mary’s eyes narrowed.What is he playing at? Why was he not berating her for her poor life decisions? Why was he not telling her that she could not andshouldnot continue on in this manner? Something was not right.
She concluded her ablutions and rounded the screen.
“I believe I will take a nap before we set out,” she said, watching him carefully for any sign of his ill feelings.
His gaze remained fixed on his cards. “As you will, Mary.”
Her eyebrows rose, but she remained silent. There was something distinctly odd about Gabe’s behaviour, but Mary could not determine precisely what that was.
She should not complain, however. At the very least she should be pleased that she was not currently receiving a set-down.
Hastily removing her wrapper and draping it over the foot of the bed, Mary slid between the bedclothes and closed her eyes.
