“Ah, but yes you are.We all are daughters of de King.”She pointed upward, and Gabrielle knew she spoke of God.Odd, but Gabrielle had never thought of herself as God’s daughter.
Drawing a deep breath, she swallowed down a burst of nerves.She didn’t know what this night would bring, but it couldn’t be anything good.Nevertheless, she would attempt to get Damien deep in his cups, and if so, she might have a chance to slip away, get Omphile, and make their way to the docks.How they would barter their way on board a ship in a French port, she had no idea, but she had to try.What did she have to lose?
Lud.She sounded as adventurous as the rest of her family.She?Who’d always been as scared as a ship’s mouse.She’d laugh if her situation weren’t so dire.
???
Damien stood near the front entrance to the governor’s ballroom, sipping his brandy, and feeling as nervous as a schoolboy with his first infatuation.
“She must be a special lady, Damien, for you’ve not taken your eyes off the door since we entered an hour past,” Nicolas de Gabaret, Governor of Martinique, said from beside him.
“She is.”Damien smiled, surprising himself by the immediate declaration.
“Then congratulations are in order, Captain, for it is rare to find such a wife.Most marriages are arranged for money, power, or land.”Scowling, he glanced at his wife, Marie-Anne, across the ballroom, cackling with a group of women.“But forl’amour?Well done.”
Damien shifted his stance and scanned the large gallery.Was it love he felt?He had no idea, for he’d never experienced such a sensation before.In truth, it felt more like a longing, a desire for something he was desperately missing in his life.
Candlelight glittered down upon the crowd from chandeliers of wrought silver hung high from a beamed ceiling.Elegantly carved crown molding circled the room, matching four white posts on either end that held up arched doorways.Gold-gilded mirrors lined the walls, making the room look larger than it was, while sideboards crafted in island mahogany held all manner of dainties and drinks.Chairs with stuffed velvet cushions were perched against the walls beside hangings of silk brocade that were pulled back from open doors leading to an outside veranda.
The governor’s guests drifted over an exquisitely patterned tropical wood floor, dressed in the finest silk, velveteen, and satin in all colors and styles, each one hiding their faces behind gaudy bejeweled and feathered masks while displaying themselves like peacocks in a bizarre mating ceremony.
At the far end of the gallery, an orchestra fine-tuned their instruments atop a dais.
“My lord.”A man halted before the governor.“Monsieur Bastien wishes to inform you that the priest is ready, and the ceremony will take place in the salon after the ball commences.It is up to you”—he glanced at Damien—“to get Lady Hyde there.”
Damien nodded.“I’ll have her there.”
“A noble lady?”The governor raised his brows.
“Oui, the daughter of an earl.Perhaps you’ve heard of him?Captain Edmund Merrick Hyde, Lord Clarendon.”
“Mon Dieu!Who hasn’t?He’s been the plague of France for years!Well done, Damien.Well done.A regular Romeo and Juliet, I’d say.If we weren’t already at war, this union might well be the catalyst.”He chuckled, shaking his portly belly, and then clapped Damien on the back.“She must truly be smitten to betray both her family and nation.”
Damien smiled.He’d not tell the man that he intended to slip some opium into the woman’s drink, make her confused, sleepy, and unaware of what was happening, and then whisk her off to get married before she sobered.Non, he’d let the man believe she actually loved him.
The thought sent a pang through his heart.What would it feel like to be loved,trulyloved by a woman like Gabrielle?For her to want to be with him, foranywoman to want to be with him for more than to pad her pockets?
Damien adjusted his mask, glad it hid the moisture in his eyes as the governor begged off to speak to a guest.Once he wed Gabrielle, he would set a trap for Cadan and retrieve their son.Then they would be a family—the family he’d never had.
A stirring at the entryway drew his gaze, along with several others in the room.
An angel glided through the open doors on the arm of his steward, Louis.
A gown of purple silk, fringed in gold lace fell elegantly to her feet.Ruffled bell sleeves emerged from a jeweled stomacher bedecked with pink ribbons, while a low décolletage pressed against her creamy breasts.Her golden hair was expertly coiffed in delicate layers atop her head, allowing a few spirals to dangle about her neck.Pearls shone from the pink filigree mask she wore over her eyes.
His heart leapt even as his blood heated.Why had he ever let her go?
Yet no smile graced her lips as Louis spotted him and headed his way.The lady halted beside him, her skirts swishing about her and the scent of roses flooding his nose and alerting every sense.
Louis bowed and left, leaving them alone for a moment, though Damien spotted several people making their way over for introductions.
“I am here, Damien, as ordered.Now what?”Her curt tone cut hard.
“Now you enjoy yourself,ma douce.”
“If that is what you wish, then ’twould be my greatest pleasure if you would set me and Omphile free at once.”
He chuckled.“Perhaps after the ball, provided you behave yourself.”Of course, he had no intention of doing so, but a speck of hope might keep her more pliable for the night’s events.
