Chapter Eleven
Gabriel paced around the lawn behind the castle and tried not to think about what his mother might be telling Kelly as they shopped.
He knew his mother’s mischievous streak – hell, he’d inherited it from her – but he also knew that she’d taken an instant liking to Kelly.
So, as he’d pointed out to his mother before she left, it would be areallybad idea if she recounted any anecdotes about him when he was a cute little dragonling – like, say, when he’d flown over the car of the human teacher who’d given him a failing grade in second grade math and maybe, possibly, pooped on the car. From a hundred feet in the air.
That kind of thing, he’d reminded his mother, would not be likely to endear him to Kelly.
His mother had just smiled wickedly and promised that she would say nothing but good things about him to his future bride. Then she’d winked at him. The bitch. He was ninety-nine percent sure that his mother was just making him nervous for the fun of it and she wouldn’t really do anything, but that other one percent…
“Not sure which one of them looks more miserable.” His father’s voice made him jump. He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t even noticed his approach.
“What?” he asked, startled. “Who looks miserable?”
His father inclined his head.
Teresa was stalking along a garden pathway, talking angrily into her cell phone. Winthrop was following about ten feet behind her with a determined look on his face. When she slowed, he slowed. When she sped up, he sped up.
“That was a stroke of genius, assigning him to be the one to watch her,” Emerson observed. “Or truly inspired evil. Which was it?”
“Perhaps a little of both,” Gabriel said sourly. “He could quit, after all.”
“But he won’t.” Winthrop was bound by tradition. More than a century ago, in England, one of Gabriel’s ancestors had saved the life of Winthrop’s great-great grandfather. Ever since then, the oldest male Higginbotham – Winthrop’s last name – out of a sense of duty, had insisted on serving as a valet for Gabriel’s family until such time as they married. They were all like Winthrop – prim, proper, disapproving, a terrible fit for a family like the Kingsleys. And it seemed to be impossible to get rid of them.
Emerson glanced at his son. “Kelly seems like a decent sort. Do you think she’d help us, if…?”
Gabriel shook his head. “No. She’s got a very strong moral sense. If she knew, I’m not sure what she’d do, and it’s too great a risk.” His gaze involuntarily flicked towards the rear tower, and then he looked at his father, whose expression had gone wistful.
“It’s not your fault,” Gabriel said to his father for the thousandth time. “You couldn’t have known.”
His father managed a pained smile, but he avoided Gabriel’s gaze. Emerson tried to maintain a cheerful demeanor, but every year that went by without a solution to their dilemma, he grew glummer and glummer.
His cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.
It was Kelly.
“Gabriel, are you busy?” Her voice sounded hollow and echoey.
“Where are you?” he demanded. Had Principe Teague gone after her again? He’d had it with that officious son of a bitch. He’d sky-challenge him and fry him to a crisp if he so much as looked at Kelly the wrong way.
“I’m in the bathroom stall at the wedding dress shop.”
He felt a stab of annoyance. “Oh God, what did my mother do?”
“She pocketed several hair bows. I don’t even know why – they wouldn’t be worth that much,” Kelly said. “And when we were at the coffee shop, she slipped a coffee mug into her purse. I know you’ll find that hard to believe, but—”
“Kelly, I know,” he said. “That’s just something my mother does. I’m surprised you spotted it, actually. She’s pretty smooth.”Lots of practice.
Kelly actually gave a rueful chuckle. “Not like I’m an insurance investigator, so I’m always on the lookout for suspicious activity. And not like I’m watching your entire family’s every move with deep suspicion or anything.”
“Right,” he said with a sigh. “The bag of packages that I had the other day… When my mother comes home from shopping, I go through her bags, take everything that still has price tags on it, and I return it. If I miss anything, the shopkeepers call me and let me know. Everyone in town knows about it. It’s just, you know…her thing.”
“Oh, well. My mother’s thing is insulting everyone and pitting her daughters against each other, so who am I to judge?” Kelly said. “Sounds like you have the situation under control. I’ll see you back at the castle, then.”
Gabriel felt an odd knot of tension uncoil inside him, a knot he hadn’t even noticed was there. He and his family did their best to keep their eyes on Tabitha. The problem was, the entire family had grown up stealing. They’d practiced since they were young, and it was in their blood. Ten years ago, they’d been forced to give it up, except for the desperate search for the one kind of jewel that would undo the terrible thing they’d done. They no longer stole for profit; they only stole when they received word of a power jewel that they weren’t able to get their claws on legally.
For the most part, they’d been successful in turning their lives around – except for Tabitha. She was climbing the walls not being able to steal. Her minor shoplifting excursions were her way of blowing off steam.
