“First of all, I’m not asking you for anything. I’m telling you that Thea and I have come to an understanding. The moment this bloody business is over, I will make her mine.” His gaze snapped to the window as they once again passed the townhouse. Still no sign of movement—devil and damn, what was taking so long? His last thread of patience snapped, and he reached for the door handle. “I’m going in.”
The duke stopped him. “We promised them a full hour. Hell, aren’t you supposed to be the cool-headed one? I thought you spy fellows had ice flowing through your veins.”
“This is different,” he gritted out.
In the old days, he’d been known for his composure. He’d been cold and methodical in his work, shutting out inconvenient things like emotions. But this was different. Personal. Thea was involved, and if so much as a hair on her head was disturbed—
Calm down, and get a bloody grip.
“Love does complicate things, doesn’t it?” Strathaven said.
“This isn’t about love,” he said testily, “but common sense. I should never have let my future marchioness take such a risk.”
“As you say.” Strathaven studied him. “I must confess I’m surprised that you’ve decided to give marriage another go. I thought your first experience had ruined you for all others.”
Gabriel’s jaw tautened. He wouldn’t dishonor Sylvia by speaking the truth aloud. Yet as much as it shamed him to admit it, he was discovering that perfection didn’t hold a candle to a flesh and blood woman. One whose feminine strength and tender vulnerability beguiled him. He’d choose honest passion over tormented love any day.
“One moves on,” he said.
“That I can understand.” The duke’s gaze vigilantly scanned the street as he spoke. “You know that I, myself, wasn’t keen on getting caught in the parson’s mousetrap a second time.”
Gabriel knew the vile rumors that had been spread by the other’s vindictive first wife. If anyone had had reason to be wary of marriage, it had been Strathaven.
“And yet you succumbed,” he said.
“Not easily. I gave the good fight.” His friend smiled faintly. “But I soon realized that resistance was futile—another thing you learn when dealing with a Kent.”
“I’m not resisting Thea. I want to protect her.”
“Do you think I feel any differently when it comes to Emma?”
“You agreed to the present asinine plan,” Gabriel muttered.
“Because I know how to choose my battles. When my duchess sets her heart upon a thing, it is near impossible to persuade her otherwise. Why waste the effort?” Strathaven shrugged. “I’d much rather she try to persuade me.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Let’s just say Her Grace spent a great deal of effort yesterday evening trying to convince me of her plan. She easily made concessions that would have taken me forever to negotiate: she agreed to my escort, a set time frame to carry out her little plot, etcetera. Trust me, I’ve learned that it is preferable to haveherbe in the position of winningmeover rather than vice versa.”
Gabriel’s brows rose. “You mean you forbade her all the whileintendingto concede? For the purpose of gaining the upper hand?”
“I prefer to think of it as creating a situation in which both parties win. Emma gets to have her way, I reap the benefits of being the best of husbands,”—the other’s pale green eyes gleamed—“and, most importantly, safeguards are in place for her wellbeing.”
Gabriel shook his head. “That’s Machiavellian, old fellow.”
“Machiavelli had it easy. He didn’t have to protect Emma from herself.” The duke gave him a knowing look. “You’ll have your hands full, too, my friend.”
“Thea’s not like the duchess.” Realizing that might sound insulting, he said hastily, “No offense meant. Your lady is lovely, I’m sure, but Thea is less… strong-willed.”
Strathaven’s brows arched. “Are you quite certain of that?”
Gabriel frowned… because he wasn’t. He was discovering that beneath Thea’s sweet, gentle exterior was a spine of finely wrought steel. She was more than he expected, more, in truth, than he’d known to hope for. Her courage and mettle aroused him as strongly as they warred with his own instinct to protect and take care of her.
“Dorothea may be the gentlest of the Kents,” the duke said, “but she is still a Kent. They have strong hearts and wills, and you must respect that. Fighting the essence of who they are… well, that’s like trying to stop the tides. Why do that when you can instead harness that energy toward more satisfying uses?”
Gabriel mulled it over. What Strathaven was saying made sense. In fact, he was surprised to find that the other was proving to be a veritable trove of advice. Being private men, neither had spoken so frankly about personal matters in the past. Gabriel found the open conversation novel… and not unwelcome.
Since proposing to Thea, he’d been struggling with a question, and it nudged its way forward now. At present, he and she seemed so well-suited, yet how did one ensure that compatibility lasted in a marriage? His relationship with Sylvia had seemed promising at first too… before he’d managed to make a wreck of things in the bedchamber and beyond. There was no better person to discuss this problem with than Strathaven, a former rake whose exploits had once titillated theton, yet who now, by all appearances, was a model husband.
