A Kiss at Midnight
Page 53
Fire danced over her pulses again.
She would take a perfumed bath. After all those years working for Mariana, she still found the luxury of a bath to be the greatest pleasure in being a lady.
Then she meant to have an argument with Rosalie. She didn’t want to wear her bosom friends. She was sick of jutting out in front like the prow of a ship, and of the feeling that she had her breasts presented on a platter for men to ogle at.
Though of course it mattered most who was doing the ogling.
The very thought of Gabriel’s eyes and the way he had looked at her wet bodice after saving her from the lake . . .
She wrenched open the door to her chamber, thinking of pulling the bell cord to summon her maid. She darted into the room, reached her hand out—froze.
She wasn’t alone.
Twenty-nine
H e was seated in a chair by the window, reading, and the sun was making bronze streaks in his hair. “I wouldn’t pull that cord, if I were you,” he said, turning the page, a wicked little smile hovering at the edge of his mouth. “Your maid might be shocked.”
“Gabriel,” she said, feeling blood pound through her body and a terrible, strange joy take hold of her. “What are you doing in my chamber?”
“Waiting for you,” he said, finally raising his eyes. “You owe me. In case you had forgotten.”
“I have heard something of the matter,” she said, drifting away from him toward the other side of the room. It felt too small with him in it. “Where’s Freddie? He usually sleeps on the bed while I’m gone.”
“The one to ask about is Caesar,” Gabriel said. “That dog is as short-tempered as my aunt Sophonisba, and that’s saying quite a lot.”
Kate frowned and looked on the other side of the bed. “What have you done with them?”
“Freddie is here,” Gabriel said. “Lazy sod.”
She looked over and saw Freddie lying between the arm of the chair and Gabriel’s leg. His chin was resting on the prince’s thigh and there was a look of utter bliss on his face. She laughed. “Well, what of Caesar, then?”
“Locked in your dressing room,” Gabriel said. “I believe that mongrel thought I was an intruder.”
“You are an intruder,” Kate said, plucking open the door to her little dressing room. “There you are, Caesar. Did you try to warn me that my room had been invaded?”
“I thought he’d have an apoplectic fit,” Gabriel said.
Caesar seemed chastened now. He growled at Gabriel’s boots but otherwise kept his mouth shut.
Kate got down on her knees and gathered him up. “You’re a good dog,” she told him. “You knew this rascally prince did not belong in my room because he might ruin my reputation, and you did your best to tell the world, didn’t you?”
Caesar gave a little woof in the affirmative.
“One would almost think you’re fond of that animal,” Gabriel said, putting down his book.
She looked at him over Caesar’s silky head. “You must leave my room, Gabriel. If anyone knew you were here—”
“I know,” he said, pulling out a length of black lace. “I brought along the veil. No one will see us leaving together.”
“I’m not going with you anywhere,” she said instantly. “I want a bath, and then a rest before tonight. Has your princess arrived yet, by the way?”
“She’s on her way,” he said. “Should be here in a few hours. Wick has all the servants in a pother over it.”
Kate looked at him dubiously. “You must be . . . Are you excited to meet her?”
“Enthralled,” he said flatly. “There’s dancing tonight, and you can’t dance.”
“I can try,” she said with dignity.
“Not until you’ve had lessons. Not unless you want everyone to know that you’re not Victoria. The lucky thing is that given the arrival of Princess Tatiana, no one will even notice if you don’t make an appearance. They’ll be too busy ogling her.”
“They’ll notice if you don’t,” she pointed out.
“I’ll have to come and go,” Gabriel said.
“Come and go from where?” she asked suspiciously. “I only promised you a kiss, Gabriel. You’re making this sound like an event.”
“I took my life into my hands last night, fighting that blackguard,” he said, his eyes innocent. “Of course I expect you to spend some time with me.”
“Spend time where?” she said. “Were you really in danger?”
He held out his hand. Still kneeling, with Caesar on her lap, Kate leaned over and saw a tiny cut on one knuckle. “Dear me. I’m like to swoon just thinking of the peril you were in.”
“Wretch,” he said. “I think we should leave Freddie here, don’t you?” He ran a finger over the dog’s sleek head. “We wouldn’t want to embarrass him.” Freddie gave a luxurious sigh. “Wick will send up a footman to give the dogs an airing later.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Kate stated. “As I said, I am planning to take a bath and a nap.”
“I approve,” he said. “It’ll be a sacrifice, but I’ll leave you to take a bath alone, I promise.”
“I like it here,” she said, stubbornly.
“My chambers are in the turret,” he said. “Please, Kate. I’ll show you that pot, the one that held the knucklebones.”
She opened her mouth to say no, but there was just a shadow of uncertainty in his eyes. Something else too, something that she’d never seen in a man’s eyes before.
“Tatiana isn’t yet here,” he said. “Not in my castle. Please.”
Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and she was lost. “What about my maid?” she asked helplessly. “She’ll come to dress me soon.”
“I told Wick to keep her occupied.”
“You told Wick ?” She got off her knees, Caesar scrambling to the floor. “Just what did you tell Wick?”
Gabriel rose to his feet. “Believe me, I was in more danger from Wick than from Beckham. He was livid when I told him you would—”
“I can’t believe you told him that!” Kate cried. “Don’t you know what you’ve done? Everyone in this bloody castle will think I’m a doxy before the evening is out!”
Gabriel’s jaw set. “Wick is my brother. He’s my right hand and my closest friend. He would never tell a soul, if only because he deeply disapproves.”
“And well he should,” she flashed. “I can’t go to your rooms! Even to be seen on the way there is tantamount to ruin.”
“You won’t be seen,” Gabriel said. “My aunt is housed in the same tower as I am, and you will be wearing her veil.”
“This is too dangerous,” she said. “We might well run into an acquaintance of the princess’s. What if we meet Lady Dagobert? She told me a short time ago that she knows everyone. Algie will wonder where I am.”
“Wick has already informed Lady Wrothe and your supposed fiancé that you are suffering from a stomach upset,” he said promptly.
“You take a great deal upon yourself,” she said, glowering at him.