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CHAPTER 8
Gabe shook his head and wondered, not for the first time since he’d returned to England, if Christian really had lost his mind. Of course, that was the rumor sweeping across Town, that Lord Kelling had returned from the war quite mad. But while his friend seemed to possess all of his faculties most of the time, there was simply no good reason to shop so publicly fordaggers.It was almost as though Christian wanted his Covent Garden activities to be found out.
“You really think it’s a good idea to give your former commanderthatfor his birthday?” Gabe asked after the clerk had left them to look over an ornate dagger with an impressive blade and ormolu handle.
Christian tested the weight of the weapon, tossing it slightly in the air, and his expertise with the dagger could not possibly be missed by anyone who cared to give them notice. “Throssell is the one who taught me the art of throwing these.”
Which should probably never be admitted in public. Of course, Christian had always been the most reckless member in their set of friends.
“Seems an excellent choice, I think.”
Gabe shook his head. “AndIthink you’ve lost whatever good sense you once had.”
Christian cast him a dark expression, one he was certain more than a few criminals had encountered when facing the Covent Guard in the dead of night. “I beg your pardon?”
Gabe heaved a sigh. “I would just think, that all things considered, it might not be the best giftyoushould give the man, or anyone else for that matter.”
“It’s a decorative piece,” Christian returned. “I hardly think it will be noted upon.” Then he gestured toward the sales clerk across the way. “If you can have this boxed up for me,” he called.
Gabe glanced in the same direction and through the open partition, he spottedherin a connected room filled with lace, silks and gloves. Dear God. Sophie was here? His breath caught a little in his throat and he couldn’t pull his gaze from her. She truly was like an oasis for his soul, a beacon of light in the darkness.
Christian said something, though Gabe had no idea what it was. How could he be expected to carry on any sort of conversation whenshewas so close in proximity? Even all dressed in black, she radiated like the brightest of lights. The golden hues of her hair pulled up just so, the porcelain of her complexion, the brightness in her eyes. And after the awful morning he’d experienced, simply catching a glimpse of her lightened his heart more than a bit.
A moment later, or perhaps it had been a lifetime, Christian clapped a hand to Gabe’s shoulder and muttered under his breath. “She’swhy you’re not answering me, hmm?”
“What did you say?” Gabe asked as he kept his gaze focused on the one ray of light he’d seen all day. Sophie, a balm for all the ails of the world, or perhaps for just his soul.
“It hardly matters,” Christian replied. “Why don’t you go talk to her instead of standing here and gaping like an idiot?”
Because he didn’t have any right to see her. Because his life was more than complicated these days. And because even after all these years, she still deserved better than anything he could ever offer her. But, “Greywood’s courting her,” is what he said instead.
Christian snorted in response. “They’re not betrothed. No reason you can’t steal her away from him if you’re of a mind.”
“Oh?” Gabe did look at his friend then. “And offer her what, should I be successful?” A penniless future earldom and sharing the care of Gabe’s deranged brother? And the hope that no one else learned the entire thing was one rather large deception that could explode around them at any time?
Christian shrugged. “Well, how about just a pleasant conversation at the moment? It seems you could both use that.”
Both of them? What had Christian seen that Gabe had missed? He returned his gaze to find Sophie’s brow furrowed just slightly and the smile she usually wore was nowhere to be found.Wassomething wrong? Had something happened?
Christian shoved him toward the open partition. “Go on. You clearly want to see her.”
And he had, nearly every day that he was gone.
Sophie selected a pair of gloves and ran her fingers over the lace facing. It was a bit scratchy, wasn’t it? She put the pair back and started instead toward a dark silk that caught her eye, but just as she reached it, she felt something, almost as though someone was watching—
“I see you opted for a dress today, Miss Hampton.”
The deep timbre of Gabe’s voice swirled around Sophie, and a shiver rippled across her skin. Good heavens! Would he always have that affect on her? She swallowed a bit nervously before turning on her heel to gaze up into his warm hazel eyes and breathe in that familiar sandalwood scent of his. Looking at him now, it was almost as though he’d never left. He looked so much like the Gabe she had fallen for all those years ago; though there was a bit more gold in his sandy hair and he was a bit more filled out than he had been in those days, but her heart beat a little faster at the sight of him.
Goodness, she needed to be careful and guard her heart better than she had when she was younger. Because hehadleft her and she needed to keep that in the forefront of her mind. It was 1816, not 1812 and she was no longer that foolish lovesick girl. Or at least she was determined not to be this time around.
“Major Prideaux,” she said and was relieved when her voice sounded smooth and unaffected to her own ears. “What a surprise.”
“A happy one, I hope,” he returned. And even though the tips of his lips turned up to a smile, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something was bothering him.
It was on the tip of Sophie’s tongue to ask what was wrong, but no matter what was bothering him, it wasn’t her concern. He’d made that quite clear when he’d left, and she needed to remember her place or she’d end up brokenhearted all over again.
“Until yesterday, I hadn’t realized you’d departed Canada.” Blast it! Why had she saidthat? Now he’d think she’d been pining away for him all these years. What a foolish, foolish thing to have said! Of course, shehadpined away for him longer than she should have, but she didn’t wanthimto know that. He was the one, after all, who’d left her.
