Happily Bedded Bliss: The Rakes of Cavendish Square Read online

  “I’ll be there,” he said. “Seven thirty.”

  “Make it seven,” Lawrence called. “You’ll want time to digest.”

  • • •

  Three hours later, Gabriel finished the last bite of a delicious sirloin steak with all the accompaniments. A waiter arrived soon after to clear away his empty plate and dust a few stray crumbs from the linen-draped table into a silver crumb catcher.

  Earlier at home Gabriel had bathed and changed clothes before heading out to Brooks’s club, where he’d ordered a hearty meal and a bottle of rather excellent Burgundy wine.

  He’d half expected to find the Byron brothers trailing after him when he’d emerged from his town house a little over an hour after he’d gone inside. But Leo, Lawrence and Cade had apparently decided to trust him to keep his word and had put a halt to their surveillance despite the duke’s edict that he not be allowed out of their sight.

  After refilling his glass, the nearly bloodred vintage swirling darkly in the candlelight, he leaned back in his chair and contemplated his plans for the rest of the evening.

  Normally, when in Town he would have sought out a few of his friends for conversation and cards, or perhaps a visit to the latest gaming hell or to see a play. Later, he would have bid them good-bye and sought out the bed of a willing female to keep him entertained for the rest of the night.

  Yet this evening he wasn’t in the mood for company. As for finding a convenient bed partner, he’d given his promise not to engage in the pleasures of the flesh with any woman but his fiancée. Technically, he wouldn’t be breaking his vow by having sex with another woman since he and Esme Byron weren’t married yet. But there was the spirit of the thing to consider, and when put in that light, he owed it to her not to stray.

  He snorted quietly to himself and took another swallow of wine. Obviously he’d lost his mind during this latest trip to the country. Not only had he promised to marry a brazen chit he barely knew, but he’d sworn fidelity to her to boot. If his friends only knew, they’d have stared at him in goggle-eyed amazement before breaking into fits of laughter, sure he was having them on.

  Really, it wasn’t at all like him to be so damned honorable. Usually he was the blackhearted cad, the villain who seduced the girl and left her ruined and weeping while he went merrily on his way. He wasn’t the man who did the decent thing.

  So why was he this time?

  Oh yes, the Byrons and their threats.

  And then there was the lovely Lady Esme herself.

  He had to admit he was looking forward to getting her alone again, peeling the fine clothes off her body and introducing her to the addictive world of carnal pleasure. She was innocent; their kiss had shown him that. He hadn’t had an innocent in a very long time, not since he’d been a stripling youth himself. For in spite of his dreadful reputation, he wasn’t in the habit of despoiling virgins. But he quite liked the idea of despoiling young Esme Byron—more than liked actually, he realized, as his shaft gave a hard, aching pulse of arousal.

  Yet was having the chance to tup her—and not just tup her but be the first and only man who would ever do so—really worth the loss of his freedom? He supposed the answer must be yes if the suddenly heated state of his body was anything to go by.

  He shifted in his seat and drank more wine, willing his body to calm.

  Maybe he should take advantage of the chance to ease his lust tonight. A short drive across Town to a high-class brothel he knew and he would be able to lose himself in the pretty, perfumed arms of a bevy of light-skirts one last time. He was randy enough tonight to entertain a pair, or perhaps even a trio, of eager Cyprians. He could imagine them giggling and jiggling bare breasted, rounded asses exposed as they kissed and fondled and sucked and had carnal knowledge of one another well into the night.

  Lady Esme would never know.

  But you will know, taunted an annoying inner voice.

  He scowled and polished off the last of the Burgundy in his glass.

  He was still engaged in a mental battle between his conscience and the libidinous cravings of his body when a man approached who drove all such considerations from his mind.

  He forced himself to show no emotion as an older gentleman, with hair so pale a blond as to be nearly white, strode pugnaciously forward and halted roughly a foot from where Gabriel sat. The older man glared, his blue eyes blazing with unconcealed vitriol in his once-handsome, age-lined face.

  Rather than acknowledge him or invite him to take a seat, Gabriel raised a hand to signal a nearby waiter.

  The man came quickly forward. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Another bottle of Burgundy, if you please.”

  “Of course, your lordship.” The servant darted a glance toward the older man. “And shall I bring a second glass for your friend?”

  “You shall not,” the blond man said in a gruff bark. “This misbegotten whoreson is no friend of mine, and I would as soon drink with a rabid cur as share a glass with him.”

  Gabriel quirked a sardonic brow. “Just the wine, I believe.”

  The waiter hurried gratefully away.

  “So, to what do I owe the displeasure of your company tonight, Uncle? And here I imagined you off in the country this time of year, gunning down as many birds and scurrying rabbits as you’ve bullets enough to slaughter.”

  His uncle Sidney was notorious for indiscriminately hunting wild creatures. He’d been known to kill dozens of birds, small game and deer in a single session, with no consideration for the harm it might inflict on the area’s wildlife balance. Worse still, he generally had his cook utilize only a fraction of the kill for himself and his family. He had the remainder thrown away, buried or burned, rather than allowing his staff and tenants, who would have benefited greatly from the fresh meat, to partake.

  Gabriel found his uncle callous and repugnant. But then the feelings of dislike between them were mutual, since Sidney Landsdowne had never spared Gabriel so much as a single kind word or thought, not even when he’d been a child.

  “Save your bleeding-heart opinions for someone who gives a tuppence worth of a damn.” Sidney thrust out his slender jaw and glared down at Gabriel; it wasn’t a terribly great distance given Gabriel’s height of well over six feet.

  The Honourable Sidney Landsdowne was a slightly built, moderately tall man who’d been known for his athleticism in his youth. Yet what he might lack in stature, he more than made up for with his oversized, overbearing personality.

  His older brother, Arthur, Gabriel’s father, might have held the title of viscount by virtue of birth order, but it had always been Sidney who’d been the real force behind the scenes. He spent years handling all the estate business at Ten Elms that Arthur had been loath to do—which, as it happened, had been quite a lot.

  When Arthur died, Sidney had stepped easily into the role of de facto viscount. Although he’d grieved his brother’s death, Gabriel knew he’d relished being lord of the manor. His uncle had also become the legal guardian of himself and his older brother, Matthew, who’d been only seven and nine years old at the time of their parents’ deaths.

  With Matthew far too young to assume his duties as Viscount Northcote, it wouldn’t have been surprising for Sidney to have shuffled Matthew aside. But Sidney had doted on his brother’s elder son—some might say even more than his own three children—taking Matthew under his wing and teaching him everything he would one day need to know in order to be viscount and manage the great estate of Ten Elms.

  Like all the Landsdownes, five generations deep, Matthew had had fair skin, blue eyes and pale blond hair. He’d had the Landsdowne looks too, taking after his father. He’d been Uncle Sidney’s golden boy in all conceivable ways.

  Then there’d been Gabriel.

  Brown haired and tawny eyed, he’d taken after his mother’s side of the family, with nothing of the Landsdownes visibl
e in him. He’d been tall and sturdily built as well, and his uncle had taken no pains to conceal his dislike.

  From Gabriel’s earliest memories, his uncle had despised him, glaring at him as if he were some foul creature, loathsome and unworthy.

  For the first seven years of his life, Uncle Sidney had mostly ignored him. After Gabriel’s parents died and he came into his uncle’s care, he’d thought longingly of those days when he’d been invisible to the older man. Instead of turning his back, Sidney had taken it upon himself to correct Gabriel’s so-called willful, despicable nature, disciplining and bullying him unmercifully until Gabriel was old enough to be sent away to school at age twelve.

  By the time Gabriel reached his majority, the enmity between him and his uncle had run marrow-deep. Matters had not improved, but rather worsened, when Matthew was killed in a freak accident that had broken his neck and Gabriel became the viscount.

  His uncle had been furious when Gabriel’s first act as viscount had been to kick his uncle, aunt and assorted cousins off the estate where Sidney had lived and worked for the whole of his life. Sidney had been near incendiary when Gabriel had turned his back on Ten Elms and left it to stand idle and unloved these past ten years. Of course, Sidney never took into account the fact that Gabriel made sure the tenants and farms were looked after, even if his steward did most of the day-to-day management.

  Nowadays, Gabriel derived particular satisfaction from tossing his uncle’s occasional letters in the fire, the contents of which always redressed him for his lewd, profligate behavior and for failing to take “proper care” of Ten Elms, his birthright and legacy.

  “What is it you want, Uncle?” Gabriel said bluntly, already weary of the encounter. “I’d as soon get whatever this is over quickly so I don’t have to worry about tainting a perfectly good bottle of wine with your presence.”

  Uncle Sidney’s blue eyes chilled to the temperature of ice. “I’m here because I’ve heard rumors. Gossip of a most vile and unsavory kind.”

  “Well, if it’s about me, then chances are excellent it’s both vile and unsavory. Wouldn’t stand for anything less.” Gabriel lounged back in his chair, striking his most indolent pose as he waited to hear more.

  “They say you were caught in flagrante with a young woman of good birth,” Sidney accused. “That you seduced her to such a debased extent that she actually did a drawing of you in a most indecent state of undress, and out of doors, in the grass, no less.”

  “My, but how quickly the harpies spread their malicious tidings when they’ve juicy tattle to share.”

  “So you don’t deny it?” Sidney’s eyes wheeled in their sockets. “You admit you despoiled the daughter of a member of the nobility?”

  “Why should I say yea or nay, since you wouldn’t believe the truth, even if I told it to you?”

  “You’ve got that right, boy.” His uncle shook an accusing finger his way. “You’re a devil and always have been.”

  Gabriel covered a yawn with one hand, well used to his uncle’s oft-repeated opinions concerning his character—or lack thereof.

  “I hear the girl’s a Byron, so I suppose her fall from grace should come as no great surprise. That whole family hovers on the constant edge of ruin. Were it not for their wealth and position, they’d have been run out of Society years ago.”

  “I suppose that’s what comes of having one of the most influential dukedoms in the land. Rather helps to insulate one from even the stickiest of social wickets.”

  Sidney narrowed his eyes. “Well, that girl won’t wiggle out from under this peccadillo. Once the tale becomes known at large, she’ll never be received anywhere again.”

  “She will, if she’s married,” Gabriel said quietly.

  “Hah. And who would marry her now?”

  “Why, me, of course.”

  “You!” Sidney’s pale eyebrows shot high. “You must be jesting.”

  “I think not. I asked and the lady has agreed. As soon as I can procure a special license and return to the country, we will be wed. I’d tell you more, but then you might expect an invitation to the ceremony.”

  His uncle’s expression turned even uglier. “I wouldn’t attend your wedding if my very life were at stake.”

  “In that case, I’ll make sure to send you all the particulars. There must be a cliff somewhere in Gloucestershire you could fall off.”

  Sidney hissed out a breath. “You imagine yourself quite clever, as always, but let me impress a few facts on you. You and your bride will receive no welcome from myself, your aunt or any of your cousins. This marriage is a disgrace no matter who her family may be. The situation must indeed be even more desperate than I had imagined for them to marry her off to a vile reprobate like you. You haven’t got her with child, have you?”

  “No, not that it is any of your business. Contrary to what you believe, Lady Esme is innocent, and I will thank you not to spread your malicious speculation with others of your acquaintance.”

  “Why? It’s what everyone else is thinking already, especially considering her involvement with you. A man who’s spent the past ten years making it his goal to tarnish the Northcote title and sully the good name of Landsdowne.”

  “Surely it’s been far, far longer than that, particularly given some of the things father and grandfather got up to.”

  Sidney’s eyes flashed again. “Don’t you dare besmirch the memories of those two fine men. You are a shame to their legacy and I wish to God your brother were still alive so I would never have had to see this day.”

  Gabriel’s expression hardened. “I am well aware of your opinion on the subject, sir.”

  “Then you should also be aware that although I’ve had little choice but to put up with your lewd, disgusting behavior until now, I will not tolerate any further scandalous acts on your part.” Sidney’s hands opened and closed at his sides. “Your cousin Gillian is to make her come-out next spring. She is a good child and I’m warning you now that I will not have her chances of making an advantageous marriage sullied by the unholy union between you and the Byron baggage.”

  A small nerve twitched near Gabriel’s left eye. Slowly, he rose to his feet, towering at his full height above his uncle.

  Sidney took a step back.

  “My fiancée’s name is Lady Esme Byron,” Gabriel said coldly, “and from this moment forward you will not to refer to her with anything but the utmost respect. Do I make my meaning plain?”

  Sidney’s thin chest heaved in and out. “I’ll refer to her any way I—”

  Gabriel closed the space between them and glared down at the man who used to scare and belittle him as no other could. But he wasn’t a child now and he was no longer scared.

  “You will refer to her as Lady Esme, or Viscountess Northcote once she is my wife. Is that understood?”

  Never one to back down, his uncle thrust out his chin. “You can do nothing to stop me from saying whatever I like.”

  “Perhaps not. But I can see to it that my dear little cousin fails to take next Season. My sister-in-law to be is Lady Gresham. Perhaps you’ve heard of her? She wields a great deal of influence in certain elite social circles. And lest you forget, one of my other future sisters-in-law is the Duchess of Clybourne. I’m sure the right few words in either of those good lady’s ears and poor Gillian will have a sad time in London indeed.”

  Color slid out of his uncle’s cheeks. “You wouldn’t.”

  Gabriel didn’t look away. “If you think not, you don’t know me as well as I imagined. Something more to consider are the unfortunate circumstances surrounding my parents’ deaths. It’s an old scandal, but one a few people will surely recall. Once they do, Gillian will have even more trouble on her hands. You wouldn’t want that gossip to start early, now, would you?”

  Unconcealed hatred burned in Sidney’s gaze. Inwardly, Gabriel smiled with satisfa
ction.

  “Oh, and one more thing while we’re chatting,” Gabriel continued.

  “Such as?” his uncle grated from between clenched teeth.

  “The Landsdowne jewels. The ones that ought to have come to me on Matthew’s death but most conveniently did not. I want them back.”

  “You’ve already received everything due you. If you’ve been careless enough to misplace such priceless heirlooms, it’s no one’s fault but your own. Or maybe one of your low-minded friends took them when you were too busy fornicating and carousing to notice. I’d expect no less of you.”

  “Come, Uncle, let’s have no more lies between us.” Gabriel smiled sardonically. “We both know you are in possession of the jewels and that Aunt Enid has been seen wearing them at various functions over the years. I personally spotted her with great-grandmother’s emerald choker around her throat and the diamond tiara on her head at a ball last summer. Until now, I’ve had no use for jewelry, so I’ve never pressed for their return. However, in consideration of my upcoming marriage, I require the jewels for my bride.”

  “Your harlot, you mean.”

  Gabriel’s jaw turned to rock. “What did I say about insults? If you speak ill of her again, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

  Sidney’s hands fisted as he mumbled something under his breath that might or might not have been an apology.

  Gabriel considered forcing the issue and making the old bastard spit out the word “sorry,” but he feared such a confrontation might turn physical. Not that he wouldn’t have enjoyed giving him the thrashing his uncle had so long deserved, but he was supposed to be helping to restore Lady Esme’s reputation, not creating a fresh scandal that might damage it even more.

  “I shall expect delivery of the Landsdowne jewels at my town house by midday tomorrow,” Gabriel said with quiet authority. “Don’t play games and put me to the trouble of coming to retrieve them myself.”

  While Sidney was stewing over the edict, Gabriel spied the waiter hovering on the far side of the room. “Ah, good. My wine has arrived.”