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Gabriel felt as though he was practically dragging his brother from the room as they left, and he was certain he could feel the eyes of both young ladies upon them as they went. Not only that, but he could feel the eyes of several other guests as well, their gazes far less friendly than Miss Chelsea and Miss Julia’s.
“Jonathan, would you be a good sport and head on out to request a carriage?” Gabriel asked once they were well clear of the ballroom. “I do believe I am in need of relieving myself.”
Though it was a lie and he had so often struggled to lie to his brother, Jonathan’s mind appeared to be on other things. “Of course, brother,” he responded with a smile. There was an almost dazed glint in his eye that slightly unnerved Gabriel, yet he did not question it as he watched his brother walk away toward the main entrance.
With a glance back over his shoulder, Gabriel quickly grabbed the note from his pocket. With a final survey of his surroundings, certain that nobody else was around, he unfolded the paper and read the words written within.
Mr. Tatford,
I thank you for the note you left me and admit I was most pleased to see you again today. It was a most welcome surprise indeed.
J x
Though it was short and sweet and held little in the way of content, it warmed Gabriel’s heart. He placed it in his breast pocket, patting it down against his chest to feel it close to him before he hurried after his brother, hoping to avoid the people he could hear removing themselves from the ballroom farther down the hall.
That night, long after his mother and brother had retired to their beds, Gabriel found himself awake and in his study. Sitting beside the roaring fireplace, he pulled the note from his pocket and read it repeatedly, unsure why it gave him such a thrill in his heart whenever he read the words and thought of the beautiful woman whose hands had written them.
Chapter 7
The musicale, an event that did not really appeal all that much to Julia, was far more pleasant than she might have anticipated. Though she refused to admit, even to herself, that Mr. Tatford’s presence had anything to do with it. After all, she had barely spoken a word to him, only catching glimpses of him through the crowd during the performance itself and sharing a few simple farewell words upon his leaving.
Yet her heart still tingled at the thought of what he might think when he opened the note she had given him. It had been difficult to find a moment to slip it to him, though she was more than a little pleased that she’d had the foresight to write it in the first place, penning it quickly in her bedroom before leaving for the event.
Her excitement and enthusiasm were short-lived. Though her heart had been racing madly all night and she had felt his gaze upon her like a warm touch, it was nothing compared to the dread she felt the moment that he and his brother were gone from her friend’s house.
It was not so much their absence but really more the voices of the remaining guests, all loudly outspoken now that the Tatfords were gone.
At first, Julia attempted to ignore the whispers. After all, she had never really been one for listening to gossip. But in a matter of moments, the whispers had turned to outright conversations, and it became all too apparent that there would be no escaping it.
“What were they doing here?”
“Have you ever heard of such rakish behaviour?”
“Their mother was an Italian commoner! Can you believe it?”
“I will never understand why such a respectable earl would stoop so low.”
The comments continued in such a manner until Julia was struggling to bite her lip to stop the members of thetonfrom saying anything at all. It was not her place to question what people talked about. Yet somehow she felt overly protective, not just of the elder Mr. Tatford, but also of his brother, who seemed to have formed a rather strong attachment with her closest friend.
From the look on Chelsea’s face, she too was feeling the strain of everything that was being said all around them. There was one thing being said that Julia could not bring herself to ignore. “What kind of earl gives his son a name like Gabriel? The kind who is willing to breed mongrels, I suppose.”
The lump in Julia’s throat hardened at hearing that, and rapidly, everything clicked into place. It quickly became apparent why she had recognised the gentlemen’s surname. It was not because they were gentlemen at all, but because they were nobles, and not just any nobles.
The Earl of Sutthers and his brother had been long on the tongues of theton. Her mother had often suggested that they were the two most talked-about men of their generation, though Julia could not think of a single kind word that had ever been said of the two of them.
Yet in her mind, the two brothers who were constantly talked about and the two she had met were entirely different men. If she had only ever heard the rumours, she would never have believed the earl and his brother capable of such kindness. In fact, all that she had ever heard of them, though she cared not to listen, had painted the picture of their being evil, deceitful, and too foreign to ever be accepted into polite English society.
Polite English society,Julia scoffed inwardly. The more she heard them talking, the less polite thetonsounded to her. She wished she could put every single one of them in their place.
“I don’t believe it,” Chelsea exclaimed as though she too had heard one rumour too many. Julia gasped in shock as her best friend gripped hold of her wrist and yanked her sideways into a quieter corner of the room, in amongst the shadows of an alcove where they could talk without being disturbed. Not that anyone else seemed interested in them, what with all the gossip flying about.
“They must have the wrong men.”
Julia’s heart wished as much as Chelsea was by her expression that her friend was right and yet something in her gut told her that an entire room full of people could not possibly have gotten the identity of two noblemen wrong. All the same, she nodded in agreement with her friend, willing it to be so.
“That or people do not know as much as they believe they do,” Chelsea continued, leaving Julia with no chance to speak. “After all, how much can thetonreally know about two men who supposedly lived their entire lives in Italy before coming to England?”
At her words, Julia remembered more and more of the gossip she had heard from the rest of thetonabout the late Earl of Sutther's sons.
