But he was a grown man now, and while the thrill of being a spy still held much appeal, for it had been his lifeblood for so long — the meaning that had kept him afloat — he had to wonder if it was truly enough anymore. Perhaps it was time to move on and allow his past to rest in peace — and his father along with it.
For it was the only way he could move forward with Triana.
If he was lucky enough to win her love.
Chapter Twelve
Triana tried to shield her sleep-deprived eyes from the bright sunlight that suddenly poured through her window. Peeking through her fingers, she watched as her ladies’ maid, Genevieve, bustled about the room, laying out everything her mistress would need to start the day, including a muslin day gown in pink that she pulled from the wardrobe.
“What time is it?” she asked on a groan, putting the pillow over her face.
The other girl didn’t even pause in her task. “’Tis nearly one o’clock, my lady. We must hurry.” Confused by the maid’s somewhat harried manner, Triana felt a frown pull at her forehead as she lifted herself up on her elbows. “Am I missing something? I’ve stayed in bed longer than this when returning home from a ball.”
“Oh no, my lady! Your mother just asked that I make sure you were presentable for when your betrothed comes to call. Lord Eastbury is to join you and the countess for tea.”
Mybetrothed.
Triana fell back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling, willing herself not to cry — or scream. After all the chaos from the night before, she’d almost convinced herself that her forced engagement was nothing more than a bad dream. But with the new day, so came the bitter reality, and while she would have preferred a good dose of castor oil rather than subject herself to a single moment in Eastbury’s licentious company, she knew her mother would not allow her to ignore her summons.
Not to mention that within a few short weeks, she would have to endure tea with Eastbury for the rest of her life — among other things.
The permanence of her bleak situation settled like a stone in the pit of her stomach. Who knew what would happen once the vows were spoken? She didn’t know Eastbury’s character. Perhaps she was expected to become some meek, docile wife who cared for a brood of children, while her husband went off gallivanting with his mistress. Or perhaps he was the type of man to beat his wife into subservient submission.
If only she could look at the union like Ro had encouraged her to do, it would make things so much easier to bear. But her dear friend didn’t know Triana had already given her whole heart to another man and passed the night dreaming about being in his arms.
With a resigned sigh, Triana threw back the covers. Once her ablutions were complete and Genevieve had pulled her dark hair up into a simple, yet elegant chignon, Triana knew she was presentable enough, even for her mother.
She descended the stairs with a slow tread, in no way eager to await her betrothed. But when she heard the low murmur of male voices drifting out of the parlor, she paused with her hand on the railing. She cringed, thinking that perhaps Eastbury had arrived early, but as she continued downstairs and stepped across the threshold, her pulse began to thunder wildly. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the man standing by the mantel.
Gabriel glanced up when she entered and she was immediately caught in his spell.
“Hallo, Tri.”
She started at the sound of her brother’s voice. She hadn’t even noticed his presence in the room until then.
“I trust you remember the Duke of Chiltern?” he drawled with a mirthful twist to his mouth.
“Yes… of course.” She stammered, before turning back to Gabriel, where he continued to stare at her with that hypnotizing, silver gaze. “Good day, Your Grace.”
His steps were slow and calculated as he walked, as if he were some predator who had finally cornered his long awaited prey. Bringing her gloved hand to his lips, he lightly placed a kiss on her bent knuckles, the action making her feel a bit lightheaded. “Good day, Lady Triana,” he returned deeply.
It wasn’t until Travell cleared his throat that Gabriel released her. In truth, she had no idea what was going on, but as her mother chose that moment to enter the room, any explanations would have to wait.
“Triana, as Lord Eastbury is due to appear shortly, I thought it best we have a chat before he arrives—” Amelia abruptly stopped, her shrewd gaze alighting on the newcomer. “Oh, I… didn’t realize we had a guest.”
“Ah, Mother, there you are!” Travell walked over to her. “I was just about to look for you, but since you saved me the trouble of doing so, allow me to present, His Grace, the Duke of Chiltern. As we’ve just recently renewed our acquaintance, I suspect we shall see a bit more of him in the coming days.” Turning to Gabriel, he said, “Your Grace, may I introduce the Countess of Trenton?”
As Gabriel bowed over her hand and murmured a greeting, Amelia could only stare at him in open-mouthed astonishment. Whether it was simply because she was recalling all the rumors surrounding this man and her daughter, or because she was in shock that such a high ranking, esteemed member of society had suddenly crossed her threshold, was uncertain.
But as the initial shock wore off, Amelia gave a stiff, but polite greeting. “Your Grace, what a compliment you have given us by paying a call.” She shot a quick glance at her daughter, and added, “Is the Marchioness of Westchester with you?”
The duke simply smiled. “I’m afraid not, Lady Trenton.”
“I took the liberty of asking the duke to join us for tea,” Travell said cheerily. “Seeing as how Eastbury is due to join us at any time, I felt it was the perfect opportunity for all of us to get reacquainted.”
“Of course.” Amelia’s lips pursed as she turned to her daughter. “Triana, perhaps you might go to the kitchens and inform cook—”
Triana could tell by her mother’s tone that she was being dismissed, but Travell quickly interjected, “Actually, Mother, there was a rather pressing matter I needed your opinion on. Perhaps we could discuss it on the way to the kitchens?”
