Closing her eyes, she remembered more, her face flushing with the memory of his hands moving over her, caressing her in the most inappropriate ways possible. With a groan, she pushed the sheet aside and sat up, her skin still quivering lightly with the recollection of what had happened. Except it hadn’t happened.
It wasn’t real, she told herself later while her maid placed pearl-tipped pins in her hair. But it had felt real, and because of that, Gabriella knew that today would be more difficult to get through than any of the ones that had come before.
By the time she descended for breakfast, her stomach had tied itself into knots over the thought of having to face Huntley again. Heaven help her, she would not be able to look at him without remembering what he’d looked like yesterday without his shirt, and how her brain had chosen to put that image of him to use in the most outrageous way possible.
God help her.
“Would you like me to act as chaperone when Fielding arrives?” her mother asked from the opposite side of the table.
Gabriella jolted. “What?”
“He’ll be here within the hour.” Her mother pushed a note toward her. “Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been saying?”
Gathering her thoughts, Gabriella read the note before telling her mother, “Anna can easily act as chaperone if you have other things to attend to.”
“Well. If you’re sure . . .”
Gabriella gave her mother a definite nod. “Enjoy your day.” She waited for her to leave before scribbling a note to Amelia and Juliette, informing them of her unexpected delay and asked Anna to deliver it. Then, walking through to the drawing room, she proceeded to read her favorite book—a well-used copy of Kirby and Spence’s Introduction to entomology or elements of the natural history of insects.
When Fielding arrived half an hour later, he brought roses. “You look as lovely as always, my lady—my apologies for not calling on you sooner.” He took a step in her direction. “I should have called on you yesterday after my mother’s dinner party, but I feared I might have upset you. I was not as hospitable to Huntley as I ought to have been, and with your gentle nature in mind, I’m sure you must have thought me a scoundrel.”
Gesturing to the sofa, Gabriella asked, “Shall we sit?” He inclined his head and waited for her to lower herself before claiming the spot beside her. “The truth is that I thought both you and my father quite rude. He and I quarreled all the way home in the carriage.”
“I am sorry to hear it,” Fielding said. Reaching out, he took her hand, enfolding it in his. “While I cannot speak on his behalf, I should like to explain the reasons for my less than cordial behavior that night.” He took a deep breath. Expelled it. “The fact of the matter is that I was jealous.”
Gabriella’s lower jaw almost hit the carpet. “Jealous? Of Huntley?”
With an awkward shrug, Fielding slid his gaze to a point beyond Gabriella’s left shoulder. “He’s very handsome, fit and without a doubt wealthy. His title far outranks my own. So when I found him looking at you as though . . .” The thought faded. He shook his head.
“As though what?” Gabriella prompted.
“It was wrong of me to behave as I did,” he said, not answering her question. “Can you forgive me?”
She pressed her lips together. He’d owned his mistake, asked for her forgiveness in a very polite way. She gave a little nod. “Of course.”
He expelled a breath. “Good.” He produced a smile. “I spoke to your father at the club last night about drawing up a marriage settlement and what that would entail.”
“Oh?” Gabriella felt her stomach shift. With everything that had been going on, she’d completely forgotten to tell her father of the stipulations that she wished to make. She would have to remember to do so soon. Before Fielding proposed.
“It was a very productive discussion, so you needn’t worry. Everything is going to turn out precisely as expected.”
Nodding numbly, Gabriella resigned herself to the conversation that followed—a mundane discussion about bridles and saddles and how well his looked when compared to so many others. She, on the other hand, was given no chance to speak of her own interests. Whenever she tried bringing it up, he would simply go on with his own line of thought as if she’d said nothing at all. It was both annoying and exhausting—her patience stretched to the limit by the time he departed again.
With a hasty glance at the clock, Gabriella turned to Anna. “We don’t have much time today. Mama is due back in an hour.”
“Then we’d best be on our way,” the maid suggested. She was quickly putting away the mending that she’d been doing in a corner during Fielding’s visit.
“Might I be honest with you, my lady?” she asked as they walked toward the back of the house and exited onto the terrace.
“Of course.” Not wanting to waste another minute, Gabriella quickened her step.
“It would pain me to see you marry the earl. He’ll crush your spirit.”
“Thank you, Anna, but I’m afraid that I don’t have much choice.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“There’s nobody else.”
