He frowned, turned away, and circled around a rather corpulent lady to his right.
They met in the center again, grabbed hands and spun around.“She did not die,” he offered, “but rather ran away, abandoning her only son.”
Releasing his hand, Gabrielle swallowed at the deep sorrow in his voice and took two steps back.“Who raised you, then?”
“Nurses, tutors, one after the other.Not many could live up to my father’s demands.”
Gabrielle spun around and wove in between the couple to her right.Damien had never known the love of a mother or a father.How terribly sad.And yet so telling of how he came to be so heartless and cruel.
She met him in the center again.“Is that why you hate women so?Because of your mother?”
“Enough!”His sharp tone brought the gazes of those around them.He pasted on a smile, grabbed Gabrielle’s arm, and led her to the side where he’d place their drinks.
A figure caught Gabrielle’s gaze.She glanced to see the seaman whom on occasion seemed to be guarding her on board theResolute.Oddly, he remained in his sailor’s garb, brown trousers and checkered shirt.No mask, no damask waistcoat graced his figure, and yet no one in the room seemed to notice.He merely stood near the entryway, his eyes on her.Upon noticing her gaze upon him, a gentle smile curved his lips….
And then he was gone.
Blinking, Gabrielle continued to stare at the spot, unnerved, unsure of what was happening.Perhaps she’d finally faced her limit of fear, and her mind was slowly drifting out to sea.
“Are you unwell, my sweet?”Damien peered at her quizzically.
“Why have you brought me here?”she snapped back at him.
Instead of answering, Damien picked up her glass of wine and handed it to her.
She took a sip.True, the wine was not potent at all, and it tasted rather good.
“You are the mother of my son.”Damien smiled.“I wish to honor you.”
Honor?She wanted to laugh, to scream.How could the man speak of honor when he had imprisoned her, ravished her?
She took his glass and handed it to him.“Then let us toast to Matthew.Shall we?”
Surprise flitted across his blue eyes before a smile lifted his lips.“Indeed.”
They clinked glasses and Damien gulped down his port while Gabrielle pretended to sip her wine.
A servant passed by, and he set down his glass on an empty tray.“Drink up, my sweet.”He gestured toward her wine, but she simply smiled and set down her nearly full glass.
“I’m afraid it does not settle well this night.”
Scowling, he fingered the lace fringing his cravat.“Perhaps another dance will make you thirsty?”
Another dance might cause her to toss what little she had in her stomach, but still, she allowed him to lead her onto the floor once again.
She was not oblivious to the glances of the men in the room.Though her mother had told her she was beautiful, she had never felt so.She’d always lived in the shadows of her gorgeous mother and vivacious sister.And although the attention she was getting should make her feel special, she only felt self-conscious.Even the women were pointing at her as if they knew a dark secret about her, the likes of which she could only guess.
She endured a gavotte and sarabande, avoiding all discussion this time, and instead searched the gallery for the best doorway through which to escape.She settled on the servant’s entryway tucked in the corner, but in the meantime, she must get Damien well into his cups.
Finally, the monster led her off the floor, seemingly more unnerved than he’d been earlier in the evening.He was up to something, though for the life of her, she could not figure out what.
More guests crowded around them, anxious to hear of Damien’s exploits at sea as well as meet his betrothed.Betrothed?Blood raced from Gabrielle’s heart.So, that was his plan.
Breaking free from the guests, he led her to a cushioned seat.He fingered the ruby drop in his ear, then tugged upon his cravat, repeating the actions over and over, clearly distressed.She stared at her unfinished wine, and suspicion crept up her spine like a poisonous spider.
She smiled at him.“Why don’t you get another drink, Damien, you seem parched.”
“Only if you finish your wine, my sweet.”He spread two fingers down his thin mustache and glanced anxiously around over the gallery as if expecting someone.
