Devil in Spring
Page 44
Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face him fully. “Are you going to try to seduce me?”
Gabriel had the gall to smile at her bluntness. “I might try to tempt you. But the choice would be yours.” He paused. “Are you worried that you might not want me to stop?”
Pandora snorted. “After what my sister Helen told me about the conjugal embrace, I can’t fathom why any woman would willingly consent to it. But I suppose if any man could make it slightly less revolting than it sounds, it would be you.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel said, sounding bemused. “I think.”
“But no matter how non-repulsive you might be able to make it,” Pandora continued, “I still have no desire to try it.”
“Even with a husband?” he asked softly.
Pandora hoped the shadows helped to conceal her reddening face. “If I were married, I would have no choice but to fulfill my legal spousal obligation. But I still wouldn’t want to.”
“Don’t be so sure. I have persuasive skills you don’t know about yet.” His lips twitched at her expression. “Shall we go inside and finish the game?”
“Not when you’ve demanded a forfeit that goes against every principle.”
“You’re not worried about principles.” Gabriel leaned closer, crowding her gently back against the column. His taunting whisper curled in her right ear like a wisp of smoke. “You’re worried that you might do something naughty with me and enjoy it.”
Pandora was silent, trembling with mortified surprise at the slow burn of excitement that had awakened in all the intimate places of her body.
“Let fate decide,” Gabriel said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Her reply was honest and a bit wobbly. “I could end up having no choices left.”
“I’ll leave you a virgin. Only a little less innocent.” His fingertips found the inside of her wrist, his fingertips stroking a tiny pulse. “Pandora, you’re not living up to your reputation as the misbehaving twin. Take a risk. Have a little adventure with me.”
Pandora had never imagined being vulnerable to this kind of temptation, never guessed at how difficult it would be to resist. Meeting him in secret, at night, would be the most genuinely disgraceful thing she’d ever done, and she wasn’t entirely certain that he would keep his promise. But conscience was putting up the flimsiest, most feeble possible defense against a desire that seemed shameful in its blind power. Weak with nerves and hunger and anger, she made her decision too quickly, the way she made most of her decisions.
“I’ll finish the game,” she said crisply. “And before the night ends, the entrance hall will be echoing with your stirring rendition of the national anthem. All six verses.”
His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I only know the first verse, so you’ll have to settle for hearing that one six times.”
In retrospect, Pandora shouldn’t have been surprised that the last hand of whist proceeded in an entirely different manner than the first two hands. Gabriel’s playing style altered drastically, no longer cautious but aggressive and swift. He won trick after trick with miraculous ease.
It wasn’t a fleecing. It was a massacre.
“Are these cards marked?” Pandora asked irritably, trying to inspect the backs of them without revealing her hand.
Gabriel looked affronted. “No, it was a sealed deck. You saw me open it. Would you like me to fetch a new one?”
“Don’t bother.” Doggedly she played out the rest of the hand, knowing already how it would end.
There was no need to tally up the points. He’d won by such a large margin that it would have been a pointless exercise.
“Cousin Devon was right to warn me,” Pandora muttered in disgust. “I’ve been flamboozled. You’re not a mediocre player at all, are you?”
“Sweetheart,” he said softly, “I learned how to play cards from the best sharpers in London while I was still in short trousers.”
“Swear to me these cards weren’t marked,” she demanded, “and that you weren’t hiding any up your sleeve.”
He gave her a level glance. “I swear it.”
In a turmoil of anxiety, anger, and self-blame, Pandora pushed back from the table and stood before he could move to help her. “I’ve had enough of games for now. I’m going to sit with my sister and the other girls.”
“Don’t be cross,” Gabriel coaxed, rising to his feet. “You can back out if you wish.”
Although she knew the offer was meant to be conciliatory, Pandora was highly insulted nonetheless. “I take games seriously, my lord. Paying a debt is a matter of honor—or do you assume that because I’m a woman, my word means less than yours?”
“No,” he said hastily.
She gave him a cold glance. “I will meet you later.” Turning on her heel, she walked away, trying to keep her stride relaxed and her face expressionless. But her insides had frozen with abject fear as she thought of what she would soon face.
A rendezvous . . . alone with Gabriel . . . at night . . . in the dark.
Oh God, what have I done?
Chapter 11
Gripping a brass candleholder by its finger ring and thumb hold, Pandora made her way slowly along the upstairs hallway. Black shadows appeared to slide across the floor, and she ignored the illusion of movement, grimly determined to keep her balance.
One flickering candle flame was all that stood between her and disaster. The lights had been extinguished, including the hanging lamp in the central hall. Aside from the occasional flash of distant lightning, the only source of illumination was a faint glow coming from the threshold of the family room.
Gabriel had the gall to smile at her bluntness. “I might try to tempt you. But the choice would be yours.” He paused. “Are you worried that you might not want me to stop?”
Pandora snorted. “After what my sister Helen told me about the conjugal embrace, I can’t fathom why any woman would willingly consent to it. But I suppose if any man could make it slightly less revolting than it sounds, it would be you.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel said, sounding bemused. “I think.”
“But no matter how non-repulsive you might be able to make it,” Pandora continued, “I still have no desire to try it.”
“Even with a husband?” he asked softly.
Pandora hoped the shadows helped to conceal her reddening face. “If I were married, I would have no choice but to fulfill my legal spousal obligation. But I still wouldn’t want to.”
“Don’t be so sure. I have persuasive skills you don’t know about yet.” His lips twitched at her expression. “Shall we go inside and finish the game?”
“Not when you’ve demanded a forfeit that goes against every principle.”
“You’re not worried about principles.” Gabriel leaned closer, crowding her gently back against the column. His taunting whisper curled in her right ear like a wisp of smoke. “You’re worried that you might do something naughty with me and enjoy it.”
Pandora was silent, trembling with mortified surprise at the slow burn of excitement that had awakened in all the intimate places of her body.
“Let fate decide,” Gabriel said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Her reply was honest and a bit wobbly. “I could end up having no choices left.”
“I’ll leave you a virgin. Only a little less innocent.” His fingertips found the inside of her wrist, his fingertips stroking a tiny pulse. “Pandora, you’re not living up to your reputation as the misbehaving twin. Take a risk. Have a little adventure with me.”
Pandora had never imagined being vulnerable to this kind of temptation, never guessed at how difficult it would be to resist. Meeting him in secret, at night, would be the most genuinely disgraceful thing she’d ever done, and she wasn’t entirely certain that he would keep his promise. But conscience was putting up the flimsiest, most feeble possible defense against a desire that seemed shameful in its blind power. Weak with nerves and hunger and anger, she made her decision too quickly, the way she made most of her decisions.
“I’ll finish the game,” she said crisply. “And before the night ends, the entrance hall will be echoing with your stirring rendition of the national anthem. All six verses.”
His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “I only know the first verse, so you’ll have to settle for hearing that one six times.”
In retrospect, Pandora shouldn’t have been surprised that the last hand of whist proceeded in an entirely different manner than the first two hands. Gabriel’s playing style altered drastically, no longer cautious but aggressive and swift. He won trick after trick with miraculous ease.
It wasn’t a fleecing. It was a massacre.
“Are these cards marked?” Pandora asked irritably, trying to inspect the backs of them without revealing her hand.
Gabriel looked affronted. “No, it was a sealed deck. You saw me open it. Would you like me to fetch a new one?”
“Don’t bother.” Doggedly she played out the rest of the hand, knowing already how it would end.
There was no need to tally up the points. He’d won by such a large margin that it would have been a pointless exercise.
“Cousin Devon was right to warn me,” Pandora muttered in disgust. “I’ve been flamboozled. You’re not a mediocre player at all, are you?”
“Sweetheart,” he said softly, “I learned how to play cards from the best sharpers in London while I was still in short trousers.”
“Swear to me these cards weren’t marked,” she demanded, “and that you weren’t hiding any up your sleeve.”
He gave her a level glance. “I swear it.”
In a turmoil of anxiety, anger, and self-blame, Pandora pushed back from the table and stood before he could move to help her. “I’ve had enough of games for now. I’m going to sit with my sister and the other girls.”
“Don’t be cross,” Gabriel coaxed, rising to his feet. “You can back out if you wish.”
Although she knew the offer was meant to be conciliatory, Pandora was highly insulted nonetheless. “I take games seriously, my lord. Paying a debt is a matter of honor—or do you assume that because I’m a woman, my word means less than yours?”
“No,” he said hastily.
She gave him a cold glance. “I will meet you later.” Turning on her heel, she walked away, trying to keep her stride relaxed and her face expressionless. But her insides had frozen with abject fear as she thought of what she would soon face.
A rendezvous . . . alone with Gabriel . . . at night . . . in the dark.
Oh God, what have I done?
Chapter 11
Gripping a brass candleholder by its finger ring and thumb hold, Pandora made her way slowly along the upstairs hallway. Black shadows appeared to slide across the floor, and she ignored the illusion of movement, grimly determined to keep her balance.
One flickering candle flame was all that stood between her and disaster. The lights had been extinguished, including the hanging lamp in the central hall. Aside from the occasional flash of distant lightning, the only source of illumination was a faint glow coming from the threshold of the family room.
