Page 49 of The Lady's Forbidden Marquess
Lady Devon rose abruptly.“Do collect whatever you need, my dear.If I do not see you again before you leave, enjoy your afternoon.”She sailed from the room without waiting for reply.
Peregrine stared after her, pulse drumming.Why the haste?Why the evasion—about Edwin, about the theater, about everything?
She finished her tea in three quick sips and fled upstairs.
An hour later, trunks stood ready, filled with gowns, books, and small treasured pieces—a silver-backed brush her father had given her at twelve, its mother-of-pearl warm under her fingers.She left the maids to their work and went in search of the carriage.Certainly, it would be there by now.
Descending the stairs, she passed a seldom-used parlor.The door stood ajar.A familiar figure turned—and froze.Joy flared through her like sunlight.
Peregrine stepped inside, smile blooming.“Gabriel.”His name was voiced before she could stop it.“This is unexpected, what are you doing here?”She passed through the door and studied him, greedy for the sight of him.
“Waiting on your brother, apparently,” Hawthorne said, eyes alight.“Though I ought to have guessed I might find you here.Technically, this remains your home.”
“Technically.”She moved closer, voice dropping to conspiracy.“Though at the moment I am raiding my own wardrobe before it forgets who it belongs to.”She stepped closer, eyes narrowing.“You are wound tighter than a watch spring.Has something happened?”She laid her gloved hand on his sleeve.“Talk to me.”
He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair.
“Nothing escapes you, does it?”he said against her curls.“You read my heart like the worst sort of gothic novel.”
She giggled.“A very badly written one, I hope.”
“The worst,” he repeated, and kissed her tenderly.
Once.Twice.His mouth found hers—soft, then deeper, a promise and a claim.She felt the thunder of his pulse beneath her palms, rose on tiptoe to meet him—
The door crashed open.
And that was when all hell broke loose.
Chapter Twenty
Gabriel would havefaced French cannon fire with less trepidation than he now felt pacing Lady Devon’s green parlor.Henley was late.Every tick of the ormolu clock on the mantel sounded like a judge’s gavel counting down to his fate.
After Henley had blessedly accommodated his request for a meeting at the ungodly hour of nine, he had wasted not a moment to offer for Peregrine.Henley had been mildly surprised but not opposed to the match.But that was the easy part.It was with greater trepidation that Gabriel proceeded to approach the subject of Lord Carver, Henley’s mother, and Gabriel’s family history.
Henley insisted they speak with his mother immediately, only to discover his brother, Edwin, had materialized from the Continent without warning, courtesy of the butler who assumed they were intending on meeting the wayward prodigal.Henley had gone pale at the news, muttered something about needing a moment, and abandoned Gabriel here like a sacrificial lamb.Where he now lingered in Peregrine’s childhood home, waiting for Henley to return.
The door opened.
He turned, half expecting the butler with brandy, and felt the floor tilt beneath him.
Peregrine stood framed in the doorway, bonnet dangling from her fingers, cheeks flushed.She looked like sunrise made flesh.
“Gabriel?”A delighted, wondering smile curved her mouth.“Whatever are you doing here?”
For one cowardly heartbeat he considered lying.
Instead, he managed a smile that felt carved from wood.“Waiting on your brother, apparently.And you?”
“Raiding my own wardrobe before it forgets who it belongs to.”She stepped closer, eyes narrowing.“You are wound tighter than a watch spring.Has something happened?”
She laid her gloved hand on his sleeve.The simple touch nearly undid him.“Talk to me.”
Instead, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair.
She came willingly, soft and startled and perfect.He pressed his lips to the top of her head and felt her relax against him.
“Nothing escapes you, does it?”he said against her curls.“You read my heart like the worst sort of gothic novel.”
