The Unexpected Marriage of Gabriel Stone (Lords of Disgrace) by Louise Allen Page B

already owns me and has no need to exert himself to win my approval. He expects my father to deliver me at the altar steps as a neatly wrapped parcel complete with dowry, in return for his acres that adjoin our land. One daughter disposed of, Lucas’s inheritance expanded—all with minimal fuss and bother.’ Her aunt would warn her sharply about the bitter tone. So unladylike, so undutiful.
    Gabriel was tracing the veins in her wrist with his fingertip. She should free herself, she was not that careless of proper behaviour . But why should I? I want his hands on me, I like the strength and the gentleness and the anger on my behalf that is in this man.
    ‘What is the solution, then?’ he asked. ‘I could shave off this confounded beard, reappear as myself and challenge Woodruffe to a duel.’
    Was he being whimsical? ‘You will do no such thing! On what pretext? What if you kill him? And think of the scandal in any case.’
    His fingers still circled her wrist, they were close enough to kiss, close enough for her to breathe in the now familiar scent of him. Gabriel’s lips parted, she caught her breath. ‘You do not worry that he might kill me?’
    She gave an unladylike snort of disbelief, shattering the fragile moment, and saw the laughter lines crease at the corners of his dark eyes.
    ‘I am flattered by your confidence, Caroline. But to be serious, I agree that duels are a last resort because of your reputation. Is there no one you would wish to marry? No suitor ready to carry you off across the border?’
    He had released her wrist and she concentrated on not closing the fingers of the other hand around it to trap the sensations that still teased the skin. ‘No. There are suitors, yes. But anyone I would wish to marry? No. Certainly no one ready to carry me off at the risk of scandal and my father disowning me.’
    ‘Then we will have to think of another solution.’ Without leaving her side Gabriel let his fingers stray over the keyboard, a ripple of notes, the beginning of a tune she did not know. ‘I have only just arrived and begun to think around the problem. There is time yet, do not despair.’
    ‘I am not despairing,’ she said stoutly. ‘If the worst comes to the worst I will simply run away—once I have thought of a way to support myself respectably until Anthony comes of age and I can live with him.’
    Gabriel raised an eyebrow, his expression dubious. ‘He is what? Sixteen? Five years to hide and support yourself is a long time.’
    ‘I know. But I will think of something.’ She shrugged. ‘I must. Other women support themselves.’
    His quizzical look was plain to read. Most of them do it on their backs. ‘I was considering blackmail.’ Gabriel completed his one-handed tune with a flourish. ‘Something that would suggest powerfully to Woodruffe that he would do better to leave you alone. Catching the man cheating at cards would be useful.’
    ‘It would. I cannot believe we are discussing blackmail, elopements and duels.’ She watched him as he stood so close, head bent, studying the black-and-white keys as though they were all that was important here.
    Gabriel glanced up towards the door. ‘Someone is coming.’ He crossed the room to the rug in the centre. ‘I think it would be better if I recite rather than sing, my lady,’ he said clearly, the Welsh lilt back to colour his voice.
    Blackstone looked round the door, then came in, nose almost twitching with curiosity. ‘May I bring your ladyship refreshments?’
    ‘Yes, please, Blackstone. Some lemonade and macaroons. Bring two glasses and plates.’
    When he had gone, his face stiff with disapproval, Caroline stayed where she was. ‘Why not sing?’
    ‘Because I cannot remember sufficient songs,’ he confessed. ‘But I can recite Welsh poetry long enough to send an entire house party to sleep. It is a hot day and this evening will be warm. A stage set of sorts on the terrace will give maximum drama and keep your father