Then she spun around, clenching a fist around her smarting palm, as she swiftly lengthened the distance between them. It was regrettable that she’d wasted her first kiss on such a deplorable man.
And she’d let it happen like the naïve fool she was.
***
Hell and damnation!Gabriel found his entire stockpile of curses had been thoroughly exhausted by the time he returned to the Westerville’s elegant ballroom a short while later. Taking the measure of people in attendance, he wasn’t surprised to find Triana was nowhere in sight.
Irritated even further when Cordelia inquired if he was feeling well, he responded with a curt, noncommittal response, before grabbing two flutes of champagne from a nearby footman. Surprised that his firm grip didn’t cause the delicate stems to shatter into a thousand pieces, he handed one to the marchioness before downing his own in one hefty gulp. But realizing that it would take much more than wine to calm him, he was vastly relieved when Lord Vanderbree offered to partner Cordelia for the next set, giving Gabriel time to go off in search of a temporary sanctuary.
He searched until he found a library that was blessedly empty, so he went inside and shut the door. He was relieved to be surrounded by nothing but silence, serenity, and the smell of leather and musty pages. An expansive display of novels filled the mahogany shelves around him, but Gabriel had already spotted something of much higher interest — a neglected brandy decanter on a side table.
Feeling quite sure that Lord Westerville wouldn’t mind if he imbibed, he poured two finger’s worth of the fiery liquid and slammed it down his throat, glorying in the burn as he did so. Helping himself to another draught, he walked over to the fireplace.
He leaned his arm heavily against the marble mantel, ignoring the warm, inviting glow as he closed his eyes and let the glass dangle carelessly from his fingertips. As a spy for the Crown, he knew the perils of losing control, and never, in all his experience, had he been so foolish as he’d been tonight.
Or so utterly ashamed of his behavior.
While he doubted Triana had saw that he was meeting with his contact, something had happened to make her suspicious, for more than once he’d resisted the urge to pull at his cravat that evening. He could practically feel those blue, luminescent eyes upon his skin. He certainly hadn’t intended for tonight to turn out as it had, yet he still thanked God for the chance, for that kiss with Triana had been every bit as magnetic as he’d believed it would be.
He raked a hand through his hair. He knew he’d lashed out and hurt her, which was the last thing he’d wanted to do, but he’d been angry at himself for letting her get too close — all for a taste of that delectable mouth. And while that was no excuse for his deplorable reaction, he had come to the firm conclusion that Triana was dangerous to this mission.
And his sanity.
Chapter Seven
Brisk, light footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Triana hastily covered the latest edition of theTimeswith the embroidery she’d been pretending to work on for the past twenty minutes, right before Lady Trenton walked into the parlor. Instinctively steeling herself for the inevitable tongue lashing that would ensue, Triana folded her hands tightly together and laid them in her lap. Keeping her face impassive, for the less apprehension she gave away the better, she silently acknowledged her mother.
To her everlasting astonishment, Amelia didn’t even blink as she announced in a matter of fact voice, “I’m going shopping with Lady Gracien this morning, and then I’ll be making a few social calls, so I shall be gone most of the day. If your brother deems it necessary to remove himself from his study long enough to ask after his mother’s welfare, inform him that I’ll be back by dinner.” Apparently feeling as if everything had been rightfully said, the older woman turned on her heel and quit the room as swiftly as she’d entered it.
Triana stared after her mother’s retreating back in amazement, before slumping back in her chair. Obviously the countess had not seen the latest article, but God help her when she did. Triana knew that burning a hundred of these offending papers wouldn’t mollify her in the least this time. What she wouldn’t do to get her hands on that slanderous reporter! Was she truly such a fascinating subject for gossip that the scoundrel had to go so far as to follow her now? For considering this morning’s piece, surely there could be no other explanation…
To our esteemed ladies and gentleman, I fear our‘hound’is at it again!
It appears that this time,Lady Triana’spursuit of the Duke of Chiltern came in the form of a hopeful, late night garden tryst at the Westerville’s ball.Fortunately, our‘fox’was able to outmaneuver this scheming miss (who, in our opinion, is really quite shameful in her obvious ensnarement attempts) and managed to escape unscathed. Truly, to save Lady Trenton and Lord Curdiff any further embarrassment, it has been suggested that asojourn tothe country will be most beneficial…
The slight clearing of a throat intruded, so she stuffed the crinkled newspaper into the chair cushion and glanced up at the butler, acknowledging him with a forced smile. “Yes, Holmes?”
He strolled into the room, and announced formally, “You have a caller, my lady.”
He held out a silver salver with a single, calling card. She picked it up and barely refrained from groaning aloud when she read the printed name.
Of all the people… She put a hand to her head. “Please convey my sympathies to Lord Eastbury and let him know I’m not up to receiving visitors this morning.”
The servant didn’t even blink. “He was most insistent that he see you, my lady.”
Triana conceded defeat. She knew that to blatantly refuse him would only infuriate her mother, so she sighed, “Very well. Send him in.” As an aside, she added, “Please inform the viscount that the earl is here. I’m sure he would like to join us.”
“I’m afraid he just stepped out, my lady.” The servant calmly intoned. “Would you like me to ring for tea?”
A sense of alarm began to crawl up Triana’s spine. “Yes, please,” she murmured. “And send for Genevieve, if you would.”
Knowing that her ladies’ maid was her last hope for a proper chaperone from the earl’s groping hands, she was further aggrieved when the butler said, “I believe she is also out, my lady. The countess sent her on a special errand shortly after breakfast.”
Of course she did.“I see. That will be all then.”
Not five minutes after the butler departed, Eastbury walked into the room, proudly
attired as a fop in his bright canary jacket and emerald green breeches. He took bold note of her form, his face splitting into a grin that nearly had him smacking his lips in undisguised anticipation. “You’re looking lovely today, Lady Triana.”
