Page 11 of The Lady's Forbidden Marquess
“I’m usually called brilliant, but smart will also do,” Henley stated as he entered the room, and without delay placed his hands around Anna’s waist, pulled her in tightly to his body and kissed her soundly.
“I’m here.Just in case you missed my presence.Keep my innocent eyes innocent,” Pere called out as she glanced away, heat rushing up her neck.“Henley, have some manners.”
“It’s my house,” Henley replied after slowly releasing his blushing wife.
“You have company.”
“You don’t count as company.You practically live here.”Henley gave a quick smile her direction and lifted a biscuit.He studied the plate then glanced to Pere.“How many did you already eat, little piglet?”
Anna swatted his arm.“Don’t call her that.”
“He’s called me far worse.”Pere scrunched up her nose and stuck out her tongue.
“Oink, oink.”Henley took another biscuit, arching a brow in challenge as he looked to Pere.
“Pig,” Pere quipped back, grinning.
She launched a crumb at him; it bounced off his cravat like a tiny cannonball.
Henley caught it midair, popped it into his mouth, and winked.“Waste not, want not.”
It was comfortable, the camaraderie with Henley.He’d always been her favorite brother, and it was perfect he had married her best friend.It had given her the tight-knit family she’d always wanted.Especially now with her mother so distant, it was a welcome haven; Henley and Anna’s home.The townhouse wasn’t overly large and remarkable, but it was perfect for them, and if Pere wished to stay with them overnight, or for a week, there was space.All her dresses were at the family house where their mother had reclused herself, but it was close enough that Pere could spend her time with Anna and Henley and then prepare for the evening at home.She paused as she thought the word; it didn’t truly feel like home any longer, not with Henley gone, Edwin too.It was much too large, and empty.No, she craved the intimacy of love, friendship, and laughter that surrounded her at Henley and Anna’s.Someday, soon if she had any say, she’d have the same thing.Now, if only she could find her own happily ever after, it would be perfect.
Anna handed her a cup of tea, steam curling like a question mark.“Have you decided which rake you’re not reforming next?”
Pere nearly choked on her biscuit.“After Hawthorne’s lecture?I’m considering a nunnery.”
Henley snorted.“You’d scandalize the nuns within a fortnight.”
“Challenge accepted,” Pere shot back, but her laugh was softer now, edged with something wistful.
She glanced toward the window, where sunlight flowed across the rug like spilled honey.Somewhere out there, Lord Hawthorne was probably twirling his cane and smirking at the world.The thought should have irritated her.Instead, it lodged beneath her ribs like a burr—sharp, persistent, impossible to ignore.
Chapter Six
Gabriel studied therefreshment table with mild disgust.If someone were spending this ungodly amount of money to throw a ball, the least they could do was have chilled lemonade.The punch had the pallor of weak tea left too long in the sun; even the flies circled it with suspicion.He shook his head in frustration.But by all accounts, he shouldn’t even be attending—yet here he was.And with that same frustration, he scanned the dancers, looking for one in particular.
It wasn’t his place, yet the fact he had somehow gotten through that stubborn streak in Lady Peregrine gave him a flicker of hope, and hope was dangerous because it never stayed silent; it always whisperedwhat if.Only, where his usual mental thoughts were of the darker variety regarding that delicious wordif, hope was addictive, promising—it had a future.Whereas, he was quite certain, a future full of hope wasn’t part of his destiny.However, if it meant that his friend’s sister didn’t end up ruined this season, then he’d be happy to be a part of that mission and hope, for her sake.
And, just as soon as that delightful sensation of hope flickered through him, it was singed by the utter rage that followed when he saw Lord Weston dancing with Lady Peregrine.
Weston.
He wasn’t the rake who avoided the virginal debutantes; he was the sort who enjoyed corrupting them.His hand rode lower on her back than decorum allowed, fingers splayed like a brand.Whatever hope Gabriel had entertained that he’d made a difference in her plans evaporated, and with an annoyed glare, he searched for Henley.Giving one last glance at the refreshment table, he started to make his way around the perimeter of the room.He spotted Henley and followed his frowning expression; upon seeing his attention on his wayward sister, the tension in Gabriel’s shoulders began to release.
“Tense?”a soft voice asked from beside him.
A smile teased his lips before he turned and reached out for her offered hand.“Lady Smithson.”He caressed her name with his tone, meeting her amber eyes and placing a wickedly slow kiss to her gloved hand.“What a lovely surprise.”
“Hmm.”She shrugged a delicate shoulder, her gaze roaming his features with familiarity.
“You doubt me?”he asked, releasing her hand slowly, seductively, as he held to her fingertips for a second longer than needed.
“Never, but it has been… too long.”She raked her gaze up from his feet to his eyes.“Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I would never argue with you, my lady,” Gabriel flirted, stepping a few inches closer.“And my calendar is clear; is yours?”He traced the line of her jaw to her lips.
Even several years older than he, she held the beauty of her youth, a youth that was wasted on an elderly husband who only made it two years before making her a widow—and a merry one at that.
