Her concern for him was heartwarming. “Of course.” He heard Pierson’s footsteps approach. “Now go to your sister. I’m sure the two of you have much to talk about.”
Gabriella swept into her sister’s arms a few minutes later, embracing her as though she feared this might be a dream that was destined to fade. She had no words for what Raphe had done. He’d saved Victoria, and now he would try to save her as well. Love was perhaps too mild an emotion for the way in which she felt about him. Soul-deep adoration was more precise.
“Is Lucy sleeping?” Gabriella asked Victoria as she pulled away from her.
“Why don’t you come and see for yourself?” her sister asked. Moving aside, she gestured for her to step further into the bedchamber.
Lucy was lying on a thick quilt that had been spread out on the floor, her chubby fingers grasping a rattle while her legs kicked at the air. “She looks so much like you,” Gabriella said as she crouched down next to Lucy. The girl chortled, one hand thrusting out toward Gabriella, who instinctively offered her finger. “And her grip is quite firm.” She laughed, unable to contain the fondness she already felt for this tiny little human.
“She’s the most important part of my life now,” Victoria said, joining her on the floor. “I never knew it was possible to love another person so much. Which just goes to show how wrong and foolish I was regarding Connolly. What I felt for him doesn’t come close to this.” She lowered her head and placed a tender kiss against Lucy’s forehead.
“What about Ben?” Gabriella asked. “How do you feel about him?”
A wry smile captured Victoria’s lips. “I’ll tell you as soon as you tell me what is going on between you and Huntley.”
Tugging her finger away from Lucy’s hand, Gabriella looked into her sister’s curious eyes and told her the truth. “I love him, Vicky. It’s that simple, really, even if the reality of it is far more complicated than I ever would have believed possible.”
“That’s wonderful news, Gabby. I’m so happy for you.” When Gabriella failed to elaborate, she puckered her brow. “Does he not feel the same way about you?”
“Oh no,” Gabriella hastily shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s all the obstacles we face. I’m worried that things won’t turn out the way we want them to—that we won’t be able to be together.”
“It’s my fault. If I’d stayed and married Bellmore the way I was supposed to, you would have had more freedom to marry Huntley.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Gabby. I made a terrible mistake.”
“You thought yourself in love.”
“No. I didn’t, Gabby. Not really—not now that I know what love is supposed to feel like. It was just a meaningless attraction and I allowed it to win against my better judgment.”
“At least you have Lucy and Ben now,” Gabriella said, hoping to offer comfort.
“Yes. I’ve no regrets there. Ben is a good man. I’m sure we’ll be very happy together. But it was a struggle getting here—to this point. There were times when I lost hope—when I was certain that I would die poor, unhappy and forgotten. So don’t lose hope, Gabby. Huntley’s a wealthy duke and the two of you love each other. You’ve already got a lot more than I had when Connolly left me.”
Encouraged by her words, Gabriella made a deliberate effort to set her concerns aside and enjoy her sister’s company until Raphe returned.
Arriving at Fielding House, Raphe waited for a footman to open the carriage door before stepping down. Today he would play the role of duke to perfection with the intention of letting Fielding understand that he was not to be trifled with. Least of all when it came to Gabriella. So he climbed down and ascended the front steps with a brisk no-nonsense stride.
“The Duke of Huntley,” he told the butler in greeting. Raphe handed him his card. “I’m here to see the earl.”
A pair of bushy eyebrows drew together. “Please come in,” the butler said. He closed the door behind Raphe. “I’ll see if his lordship’s at home.”
“He’d better be,” Raphe murmured under his breath.
The butler either didn’t hear him or pretended not to as he strode away, returning only moments later with a strained expression. “My apologies, Your Grace, but the earl is apparently out.”
Raphe felt his jacket draw tight across his back as the muscles in his shoulders tensed. “Then I’ll wait for him to return.”
“I, err . . . ah . . . of course.” He looked around uncertainly. “Perhaps you’d care to have a seat in the parlor? I can have some tea brought up for you.”
“Thank you.” He allowed the servant to show him through to a pretty room with spindly furniture that looked too fragile to hold a man of his size. So he positioned himself by the fireplace instead and waited for the butler to leave.
Three seconds later, Raphe was back in the hallway and striding toward the part of the house where he’d seen the butler go earlier. Popping his head into every room that he passed along the way, he eventually found his quarry in the library.
Seated in an armchair, the earl looked up from the newspaper he was reading as Raphe stepped into the room. “What the—”
“So you’re also a liar then, telling me you’re out when you’re actually not.” He took a seat across from Fielding. “Worse than that, you made your butler lie on your behalf.” Leaning forward, he glared across at his adversary. “Rather cowardly, wouldn’t you say?”
Fielding set his paper aside and narrowed his gaze on Raphe. The top of his lip began to curl in an unattractive snarl that proved his lack of restraint. “I ought to call you out for your insolence. How dare you come into my home without invitation?”
A rapid clicking of heels announced the butler’s arrival. “My lord,” he gasped as he spotted Raphe. “I’m so sorry. I showed His Grace into the parlor but—”
