Heavens, it was as though a lifetime of unanswered questions were spilling out of her. Questions she’d never dared think about, let alone ask. Her future had been pre-ordained since the day she’d been born. Or at least, that was how it had always felt. Because although her parents had always placed their highest hopes on Victoria, they’d still expected Gabriella to make them proud. To consider straying from that path had seemed increasingly impossible as her mother had helped her prepare for her debut, desperate to turn her strange and awkward daughter into a diamond of the first water.
But there had been no need to worry. Gabriella’s dowry had drawn great attention and Fielding had claimed the first dance. Her parents had been giddy with joy. Gabriella hadn’t really cared one way or the other. She was simply fulfilling her purpose, indifferent to her choices since none of the gentlemen she’d met that evening had made much of an impression on her. Apart from differing looks, they were all quite similar. So then, why shouldn’t she have aimed for the best in the end, as her mother had advised? It would have been silly of her not to.
But then a dark-haired man so unlike the rest—a man whose masculinity oozed from every fiber of his virile body—had moved in next door, upsetting every thought she’d ever had, on pretty much every topic.
“Love will come,” her mother said smoothly.
“Will it?”
“Yes,” her parents spoke in unison, just as the carriage pulled to a jostling halt outside their home.
“It did for us,” Warwick added, as if that assurance would ease away Gabriella’s concerns.
“Really?” She couldn’t help but ask. She also couldn’t help but wonder if their idea of love was equal to hers, for she could not recall ever witnessing any signs of affection between them.
“Of course,” her mother said, bringing the conversation to a close.
Alighting, Gabriella followed her parents inside, where she bid them both good night before retiring to her bedchamber. Sleep would not come quickly this evening, she realized.
There was far too much for her to think about.
By the time she descended to breakfast the following day, Gabriella found only her aunt waiting for her. Apparently, her mother had decided to go shopping with one of her friends, while her father had chosen to visit one of his investments. Breathing a sigh of relief, Gabriella pulled out a chair and sank into it. She reached for the teapot and poured.
“How was dinner last night?” Aunt Caroline asked from across the table.
Looking up, Gabriella saw the inquisitive glow in her eyes. “Worse than expected,” she said as she set the teapot aside and pulled a slice of toast onto her plate. “Papa made it very clear to Huntley that he doesn’t belong in our midst.”
Aunt Caroline’s lips curved just enough to convey her lack of surprise. “But you disagree?”
Sipping her tea, Gabriella schooled her features before saying, “I disagree with the way in which Papa treated him. It was horribly impolite.”
“I wonder if anyone else considered it so, besides you and Huntley.”
Buttering her toast, Gabriella eyed her aunt. “Nobody said anything.” With a shake of her head, she dropped her gaze to her plate before setting her knife aside and picking up the toast. She bit into it with a decided crunch. “You know how it is. It only takes one person to deem someone unworthy. The rest will follow like sheep.” She knew, from personal experience. “And unfortunately, in this case, Huntley’s expensive clothes were not enough to distract them from his unsophisticated speech and mannerisms.”
A lengthy pause followed while Gabriella ate the rest of her toast. Eventually, her aunt said, “I know you don’t understand or agree with your father’s reasoning, but you ought to know that he is a man of strong principles, and that he has never dealt well with change.”
“That does not excuse his arrogance.” Allowing her finger to trace the delicate edge of her saucer, Gabriella said, “You should have seen him. He was so angry at me for questioning him. And Mama was no better. She still insists that I must have nothing to do with Huntley, or his sisters.” The thought of them discovering her disobedience prompted her to reach for her teacup once more. She took a fortifying sip.
Aunt Caroline sighed. “They are both very protective of you, Gabriella. All they want is what’s best—especially after your sister’s hasty marriage to a man of inferior social standing.”
“He is a wealthy businessman, and Victoria loves him! Shouldn’t they be happy for her, rather than fretting over the fact that he’s not an aristocrat?”
“I’d say it’s a bit more complicated than that, Gabriella. Even I find her broken engagement to Bellmore hard to accept, and I’m a lot more open-minded than my brother.” A smile crept across her lips. “Look at it this way. If your father were to take you to Tattersall to purchase a horse, don’t you think he would buy the most expensive champion available?”
“Of course he would,” Gabriella murmured, her fingers tapping impatiently on the table.
“Because he wants what is best for you, even if that may differ from what you believe to be best for yourself. You see, it’s not just the scandal that needs fixing.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, I think your father feels as though he failed Victoria. He blames himself for what happened, and he’s determined to do better by you, Gabriella.”
“What if I don’t want Papa’s version of what’s better?” The words were out before she could think.
A gentle frown puckered her aunt’s brow. “I never cared much for Fielding myself, but you have always seemed pleased by his attentions. Are you saying that this has changed?”
“I don’t know.” Biting her lip, Gabriella tried to untangle her emotions so she could figure out what she was feeling, but it was proving difficult. “I don’t approve of the way in which Fielding treated Huntley last night. It makes me think that he’s not a nice person.” But was that enough reason for her to push Fielding away? Perhaps not, but then again, it wasn’t just about that, was it? It was also about the way Huntley made her feel—interesting and attractive—unfamiliar sensations that sparked a hope for something more. Something . . .
