His expression tightened, making no sense to her. But he disregarded her words and asked, “Is there a reason why Percy doesn’t speak?”
So, he’d noticed that. “Of course, there’s a reason,” she said. She just wished she knew what it was. “He’s shy.”
The server brought in their first course, giving Rebecca a few minutes to reorient herself. Anger would be her downfall. She considered how to redirect his attention from the children. There was certainly one way. She waited until the server departed then laid her spoon aside.
“I have a few things to say,” she said, barely concealing a wince at her abruptness. She’d never been one of those softspoken debutantes who alluded to what she meant. She was a person who was direct, many believed confrontational, and perhaps she was, but she would fight to the death for her cause.
He lifted a brow at her imperious tone.
She took in a deep breath, centering herself, then let it out. “First, I must thank you for assisting us today.”
“I could hardly leave you alone on a deserted stretch of road,” he said with stoic resignation. “Especially knowing our destinations were one and the same.”
Of course not. He was much too proper, and he was right. “Second,” she went on, ignoring his comment. “Yes, Owen, er, Percy’s shyness is something we are working through. Third.” She cleared her throat, feeling her face go from heated to an inferno that had nothing to do with the fire in the hearth. “I…” She blew out a sharp breath. “I wish to apologize for my behavior.”
“Would you mind being more specific?”
Her patience snapped. He knew exactly to what she referred. He just didn’t know all the details of that night, and she wasn’t inclined to enlighten him either. “From seven years ago. I shouldn’t have—thrown myself at you in the garden that night,” she said softly, horrified she was saying the words aloud.
~~~
The memories of that night rolled over Sebastian and infuriated him all over again. He’d escorted Gabriella to her debut ball. Two of his four sisters had been in attendance. Only Gabriella and Antonia were left at the time, but Antonia had still been in the schoolroom. Antonia was the most hot-headed of his sisters and she’d let the entire household know how unhappy she’d been at not being old enough to attend.
Four younger sisters was a cross to bear. Not that he would trade a single one of them.
Gabriella had been talking with her friend, the earl of Rivers’ only child, Lady Rebecca Thatcher. He'd thought he’d nipped that friendship months before when he’d retrieved Gabriella from Miss Greensley’s School of Comportment for Young Ladies of Quality after that last outrageous incident when he’d been summoned—one where his sister and her friend had snuck out of school to the village stables because of some infatuation with the stable boy. But it seemed he hadn’t made his feelings clear enough on the matter.
Gabriella cried uproariously at being dragged away. And, for once, her friend hadn’t been standing at her side. Her father had already retrieved her.
Seeing the two with their heads together, whispering furiously, Sebastian had been tempted to dash over and yank Gabriella to safety, as he’d done when she was an infant and crawling toward the dangers of an unguarded staircase.
Rebecca’s reputation for trouble was notorious—perhaps not in London—but certainly in the south: Hampshire, Somerset, Dorset. Her father had left her to her own devices so often, the girl was practically uncivilized. He knew she’d lost her mother through childbirth, and that she’d had a string of governesses.
It was common knowledge her father spent much of his time preoccupied with his studies on chemistry. Granted, the work was important, but the earl should have hired a more stern taskmaster for his unwieldy daughter. Instead, Rivers had sent her to Miss Greensley’s where her hoydenish ways had been unleashed on other genteel girls like Gabriella. Studying her from across the table, he could clearly envision her youthful cause of enlightening her schoolmates in her guileful and scheming escapades.
Gabriella hadn’t stood a chance against the strength of Rebecca’s will. Why she had to home in on Gabriella was aggravating—well, that was something Sebastiancouldunderstand. Gabriella was different from his other sisters. She danced to her own tune and, as the younger middle child, she struggled for her place in the family to be seen, to be heard. It was Sebastian’s belief that Gabriella and Rebecca had become great friends for that very reason.
There was something truly special about Gabriella compared to his other sisters. Rose, Clara, and Antonia all possessed the duke’s genes of self-confidence and vast arrogance. Inherently useful traits for their position. Gabriella was less self-assured, not arrogant. Impulsive. Afollower. And Rebecca Thatcher had led his sister down a troublesome path. A path he hadn’t been prepared for.
In the beginning, Sebastian had been thrilled with hers and Rebecca’s friendship, having fretted over sending Gabriella to school in the first place. Right away, it had been clear Gabriella had thrived. Ha! Thrived was not the word. She’d flourished, and not necessarily in a positive way.
“Why Gabriella?” The words came out before he could stop them.
Her head came up and angled to one side. A wrinkle appeared between her brows. “I’m sorry?”
“Weren’t there other girls in your same circumstance for you to lead astray?” His hand slashed the air. “When you were at Miss Greensley’s? Why choose my sister? She was the daughter of a duke. Perhaps that was your intent from the beginning.”
She’d picked up her spoon and it now clattered against the crockery.
He watched—fascinated by the change that morphed over her—in a removed sort of trance, struck by the translucence of her skin and the sudden shift to a heightened flame. The emotion didn’t touch him. Not when his memories of the past were so prevalent.
By his count, Sebastian had been summoned to Miss Greensley’s on at least four occasions. Of course, their father couldn’t be bothered with the task, and had left it to Sebastian.Someonehad had to take her in hand.
“How dare you,” she breathed.
It was like watching a dragon gather enough oxygen to set the world about her afire.
“Oh, I dare,” he said, dropping his eyes to pheasant succulently prepared. “For years, I’ve managed to quash Gabriella’s friendship with you. And within a month of her nuptials, she no longer wishes to remain with her husband.”
