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Dearest Henry,
I cannot thank you enough for what you have given me, for your understanding. This is goodbye. I have to go back to Portugal, I cannot stay—the situation with Gray is impossible. I sail on the twenty-third on the dawn tide.
With much affection,
Gabrielle
He stared at it, trying to tell himself what it said was impossible. Dearest Henry...what you have given me...the dawn tide.
Today. She had gone. She had not been sick with a cold, she had been avoiding him for a week. She had not been well at the Terringtons’ ball, she had exchanged a note with Henry, he had seen the surreptitious manner something had passed between them. Henry had got her with child, she had been sure that evening of the ball—and now she was gone, back to the quinta.
Gray was not aware of getting to his feet, of clenching his fists, of lashing out. But Henry staggered back, his hand to his face, blood between his fingers.
His cousin recovered himself fast. Gray ducked out of the way of a wild left hook, then Henry was boring in, fists flying, some science returning to his blows as he got his temper under control. Gray took a punch to the solar plexus, went down, taking a chair with him, painfully.
He surged to his feet, seeing red, knowing only that the man in front of him had put his hands on Gabrielle, his Gabrielle, had got her with child. He swung with his right fist and Henry went flying on to the hearthrug in a clatter of fire irons. Gray took one stride towards him and was hit in the back of the head with cold liquid.
‘What the hell?’ He turned, fists up, ready to take on whoever dared to intervene and found himself face-to-face with his godmother, milk jug in hand. Behind her Fredericks, normally more than capable of repelling any unwanted visitor, stood helpless.
‘Lady Orford, my lord. I explained that you were not receiving, but—’
‘Not receiving?’ His godmother’s gaze swept up and down his body, then moved to Henry who was clambering out of the hearth in a clanking of poker and tongs. ‘Not receiving? Is this how you spend your mornings, Gray? Brawling with your cousin? No wonder Gabrielle has left, poor child.’
Tomkins appeared, presumably summoned by Fredericks, with comb and clothes brush and trailed by a footman with a basin of water. ‘My lord?’
Either he’d suffered a blow to the head at some point this morning and this was all some kind of hallucination or he was dead drunk or, and it seemed the least likely, he and Henry were fighting over Gabrielle and his aunt was standing in the midst of the melee as an improbable referee.
‘Fredericks, please show Lady Orford to the small drawing room and bring her refreshments.’
She bridled at him, then swept out. ‘I will be back in fifteen minutes, Gray.’
Henry was dabbing at his nose with a cloth while Tomkins straightened his clothing. ‘What was that for?’ he demanded.
‘Later,’ Gray promised grimly, towelling milk out of his hair. ‘When I have got rid of my godmother. For now, try to pretend we have had a minor falling-out over some bet or another. The last thing we need is for her to be spreading this far and wide among her circle of gossips.’
Henry bared his teeth in what might pass for a smile. ‘I will do my best.’
Lady Orford was readmitted to a scene which, if she chose to ignore Henry’s swelling nose and Gray’s split lip and reddening eye, appeared to be a normal bachelor breakfast.
‘I apologise, Godmama. A minor dispute over a wager got rather heated. Will you join us for breakfast?’
‘Breakfast? Certainly not. How can you eat so calmly when my niece has jilted you and fled the country?’ Even so, she flung herself into a chair and added, ‘More coffee,’ to Fredericks.
‘The post has arrived, my lord.’ James proffered a laden salver. On top was a slim letter addressed in a hand he recognised.
‘If I might have a moment to read my own letter from Miss Frost.’ Gray felt sick, but he kept his face expressionless as he broke the seal.
I cannot bear to hurt you. This has become so complicated.
Several words had been heavily scored out.
I cannot deal with my own feelings for you either. Not when we are so close and I can see you, touch you. Kiss you. I wish I could tell you.
Again something had been crossed through.
I must make the break and do it at once. I see that. I must go home and be practical now. Devote myself to managing Frost’s for the future...
I am sorry to leave you to cope with Aunt Henrietta...
