Page 32 of A Winter Scandal

“I would appreciate it,” Gabriel told her, and smiled.

Mrs. Hornsby smiled back, ducking her head, and bobbed another curtsy before she left the room.

Gabriel settled back with a sigh and tore a piece from the loaf of bread. “Doesn’t sound promising, does it?” He looked at Thea. “Is she right? Is there nowhere else for someone to stay?”

“I suppose the mother could be staying at a local house. I haven’t heard of anyone having visitors. Now and then I’ve heard of someone renting a room out, but not lately.” Thea paused. “We can visit Mrs. Williams after this if you’d like. She’s the greatest gossip in town. If anyone would know whether there has been a stranger staying in town, it would be she.”

Mrs. Hornsby returned a few minutes later with the news that no one in the inn or tavern had seen anyone with a baby either in town or on the road. Nor had anyone noticed a stranger (or an unknown carriage) in town, except for the two people who had stayed at the inn the night before, who had not, she was certain, had a baby with them. She assured them, however, that she would continue to ask.

With their meal finished and having gathered all the information they could, Thea and Gabriel left the inn and started toward Mrs. Williams’s cottage. As they walked, Thea said, “I was surprised, watching you talk with Mrs. Hornsby.”

“Why?” He looked at Thea curiously.

“You were at ease with her. Quite nice.”

“Did you expect me not to be?”

“I wasn’t sure. You said you wanted me along to help you with her. I thought perhaps you were unused to talking to ordinary people. And I thought you might act …”

“Like an arrogant aristocrat?” he suggested.

“Let’s just say, more like the man at the Squire’s party.”

“I must have been a terrible guest that night.”

“No, not terrible. You just seemed very much the lord of the manor. Like my cousin.”

“Ian? Oh, he’s a good enough fellow. He is not fond of rural pastimes.”

“It seems strange he would be here then.”

“I think it’s more a matter of avoiding Fenstone Park.” Gabriel gave her a quick, rueful grin. “Pray ignore that remark. As for my behavior, I have little excuse. I am often bored by such events. Had I known that you were there to provide more scintillating conversation, perhaps I would have paid more attention. But, as I recall, when Mrs. Cliffe introduced you to me, she had already run the gauntlet of every eligible—or slightly eligible—female in the surrounding countryside, beginning with her own four giggling daughters. When I met you, I was doubtless numb with boredom.”

His words surprised a laugh out of Thea, and she covered it with her hand. “You are a terrible man.”

“Because I made you laugh? You should do it more often. You have a charming laugh—your eyes light up and your nose crinkles just so.”

“Oh!” She let out a little wail, clapping her hand over her nose. “Do not say so! I have always hated that. I look like a rabbit.”

“What is wrong with that? I have it on the best authority that rabbits are adorable.”

“What nonsense you talk.”

“Nonsense makes the most agreeable conversation, I find.”

She could not help but chuckle again and shake her head. “I shall have to stop talking; it is only encouraging you.”

They fell silent for a moment as Thea turned down the narrow lane leading to Mrs. Williams’s cottage. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Morecombe glance at her and then away. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat.

Finally he said, “I do apologize most earnestly for not recognizing you that night. It was not that I had forgotten you—or at least, the memory was still there, just pushed to the back of my mind. I recalled it quite clearly when you mentioned it. I confess that I had forgotten your name or that you were Ian’s cousin. But it had been ten years or more since that night.”

“Of course. It’s perfectly understandable.”

“I would not have wounded your feelings for the world. I am not that careless or callous a man, I hope.”

“I can see that you are not.” Thea turned her face up to look at him, and she smiled. “I do not hold it against you.” She realized with some surprise that she actually meant the words. Somehow the sting of his not remembering her had faded over the last day. “However,” she added rather saucily, “that does not excuse your forgetting me a week later.”

“Ah!” He laid a hand on his chest, wincing with mock pain. “A fair hit, Miss Bainbridge. But even you must admit that there were extenuating circumstances. I saw you only briefly at the party.” He held up one hand, ticking off the excuses finger by finger. “I would never have expected you to show up in my house, taking me to task. You were not wearing your spectacles. And your hair was tumbled most delectably about your face. Not to mention the fact that you were carrying a baby. And swooping down on me like a Fury.”