“Penny for your thoughts?” he said.
She collected herself and smiled. “I was just thinking this would be a perfect setting for a painting. I would entitle it,An English Interlude.”
“It feels like an interlude, doesn’t it? Imagine us with a moment that doesn’t involve kidnapping, murder, or mayhem.”
“There has been an excess of excitement,” she agreed.
“Not the least of which included last night.”
Suddenly, she found herself backed against a hedge, leaves and twigs prickling over her back, and Gabriel leaning over her. His pupils darkened, and he didn’t look so much like a gentleman anymore. He didn’t kiss like one either, she thought dizzily before her thoughts dissolved in the hot, sensual onslaught.
Sometime later, he released her. Straightened his clothing and her own. Tucking her arm in his, he continued to lead her down the path.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you this morning,” he said in conversational tones.
She was still trying to regain her senses. “How do youdothat?”
“Do what?”
“Look so proper when you’re…”
“Thinking improper thoughts?” His smile was wry. “I was a spy, remember? Concealing one’s desires is part of the job.”
That made sense. She wanted to know so much more about him, and for once they had the opportunity to talk. Knowing that his marriage was a sensitive topic, she decided to skip over that for now.
“Tell me about your family,” she said.
He slid her a glance. “What would you like to know?”
“Do you have siblings?”
“I had an older brother. He’s dead.”
She’d forgotten that he’d been the spare to the heir. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t want to imagine the grief she’d feel if she lost one of her own siblings. “That must have been difficult.”
“It wasn’t.”
She frowned. “But he was your brother—”
“Michael and I weren’t close. He was five years older than me.” A pause. “His favorite hobby was beating me.”
“At sports and games?” she said uncertainly.
“With his fists.”
The toneless response made her shiver. “Why didn’t your parents stop him?”
He paused. “This topic grows tedious.”
“Not for me.” When he said nothing, she persisted, “This isn’t espionage, Gabriel. This is a conversation. What two people have when they’re trying to get to know one another.”
After a moment, Gabriel said, “My father was the one who set the example. He beat Michael, and Michael beat me. Only fair, I suppose.” He shrugged. “My mama stayed out of things by locking herself in her bedchamber. She was a pious sort. Whenever she emerged, she’d announce that a propensity for violence and sin flowed in the veins of all men of the house. ’Twas the Tremont curse, she said. She prayed for us.”
His matter-of-fact description chilled Thea. His family was as different from her own loving clan as day and night. No wonder he’d learned to keep to himself; he’d had no one to turn to.
“At least your mama’s prayers worked,” she said softly.
His brows lifted, his expression sardonic.
