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‘Probably very unwise,’ she agreed equably and shifted to the seat opposite him. It was hard to tell in such poor light, but he did not appear to be greatly relieved that she had moved. If she went back... No. ‘But thank you. I needed...something.’
‘I am happy to provide a distraction.’ There was a smile in his voice, which was a relief. Many men would have been offended at the suggestion that they were simply a comfort.
‘I did not require distracting.’ Mercifully her pulse rate was calming from thunderous to merely rapid. ‘But a human touch from someone I can trust, that has steadied the ground under my feet a little.’ Which was true. Whatever turmoil that kiss had thrown her into, it had also calmed something inside her, soothed a loss even as it had awoken desires and longings she did not want to examine.
‘It did not do a great deal for my equilibrium,’ Gray confessed. ‘Perhaps I should take a midnight swim.’
‘Not after a rich meal and wine, it would not be safe,’ Gaby said hastily, then laughed a little when she realised she was being teased. How strange, to laugh with someone at their gentle teasing, to be held with passion and yet without demand. What a long time it seemed since she had experienced either. Jane was a sensible, loyal companion, but she did not have a ready sense of humour and she most definitely was not given to spontaneous demonstrations of affection. If Gaby had hugged her she would probably have sent for the doctor.
The carriage was descending now, and they were almost home. What would happen if she took Gray by the hand and led him inside, up the stairs to her bedchamber? Would he go with her? She wanted to make love with him, whatever the risks... And then she thought of another risk of lovemaking: if she wanted a father for her heir, she could not do better.
And I must not. I cannot use this man like that and even if I did, I cannot bring up a child here with everyone knowing it was born out of wedlock. I must not.
The temptation was awful. The carriage pulled up, one of the grooms let down the step and opened the door and Gray handed her out, but did not release her hand as the man swung back up behind the coach. It clattered off to the stables leaving them standing at the edge of the wash of light from the lanterns by the front steps.
‘I wish I could ask you in, but—’
‘I wish you would, but—’ Gray lifted her fingers to his lips. ‘But we should not, must not.’ The trace of laughter was back in his voice. ‘Will not.’
‘You are right, although I find it difficult to remind myself why not,’ Gaby confessed. Her pulse had kicked up again and a disturbing, long-ignored, intimate pulse was beating, hot, demanding.
‘You are upset, you feel betrayed and you seek comfort. But comfort is not what we would bring each other, I think,’ he said, serious once more, her hand still in his enveloping grasp. ‘And I remind myself that you are a lady and that I am not a marrying man, not any longer.’ Gray turned and walked towards the door, opened it for her. ‘Goodnight, Gabrielle.’
‘Goodnight, Gray.’ She reached up, touched his cheek with her gloved fingers and felt a little prickle of evening beard through the fine silk. A man who shaved twice a day, she imagined, recalling the dark curls on his chest, the line leading downward... ‘No swimming, now.’
His chuckle was cut off as she closed the door. Gaby stood just inside, peeled off her gloves, twisted them in her hands, then, finding her legs singularly unwilling to walk towards the stairs, leaned back against the carved panels and closed her eyes with a sigh. Gray’s body had felt as solid, as invincible as these old chestnut planks, she thought.
Against her back the door shifted, just a little, as though someone had leaned on the other side. Was he there, thinking about her, wanting her?
Chapter Eight
‘Senhora Gabrielle?’
‘Oh, Baltasar, you made me jump.’
‘I am sorry, senhora, that I was not here to open the door. I was not expecting you home yet.’
‘That is quite all right.’ It was necessary to speak calmly, maintain her composure, pretend that she was somehow in control of the emotions tearing through her. ‘I have a headache so we came away early. Send Paula up to my room, would you, please?’
She only wanted to be alone to think and she would have managed without her maid, but the gown was impossible to get out of alone. Even better would be to lie in Gray’s arms and not have to think at all.
In her chamber Gaby smiled at her maid and submitted to being unbuttoned. She agreed that it was a stuffy evening with a storm brewing, perhaps, which would account for her headache. She managed not to snap when Paula made her usual slow examination of each piece of jewellery before she locked it away and dismissed her, saying her head was too sore to permit the usual lengthy business of hair brushing.
In reality her head was not aching at all, but her insides felt decidedly peculiar. Part was unsatisfied arousal, she decided. The rest of the discomfort was anger over the MacFarlanes’ scheming, disappointment to have lost an old friendship and apprehension over how she was to go on now.
The best thing would be to pretend nothing had happened, as she had told Gray she would. She should dismiss Angus’s pretensions and his
parents’ ambitions and treat them as she did any of the other families along the river. If they were prepared to play the same, unspoken game, then in time the awkwardness would be smoothed over.
But Angus was not a mature young man who would put aside his humiliation easily. Between them she and Gray had administered a serious snub and he might well be difficult to deal with the next time they met. Nor would his mother take her rejection well. Angus was the apple of her eye and she would find it impossible to comprehend Gaby’s unwillingness to marry him.
She took pins from her hair and shook out the carefully arranged curls. A coolness between the neighbouring quintas would be noted and commented upon up and down the Douro and there was the making of some tricky social and business situations if that happened.
The brush slid through her hair and she began to count under her breath. ‘One, two, three...’
On the other hand, if she was away for a while, then a slight change in the relationship might well go unnoticed. It would certainly give Angus time to recover his wounded pride and his parents the opportunity to look around for another bride for him.
And this was the best time of the year to be away. The harvest was in, the experienced workers were busy on familiar routine tasks. Her team was strong and reliable, perfectly capable of carrying on without her for a while, especially if she was somewhere that the post could reach within a week or so in case of any unexpected problems.
