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Authors: Amanda Quick
Tags: love_history
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Clarington.
"Hell and damnation." Gabriel could not believe his eyes. Rage poured through him. His mysterious, illusive, fascinating Veiled Lady was none other than Clarington's youngest chit.
Gabriel crumpled the letter savagely in his fist.
The youngest daughter. Not the one who had begged him to save her from an arranged marriage eight years ago. Not the one who had nearly gotten him killed in a duel with her brother. The other one. The one he had never met because she had still been in the schoolroom at the time.
She would have been no more than sixteen when Clarington had destroyed Gabriel financially and forced him out of England. She would have been a mere girl when Gabriel had been forced to sell off the contents of his father's library, the only legacy he had from his parent, in order to survive.
Right years ago. The Veiled Lady was no more than twenty-four at the most. Yes, it all fit.
"Bloody hell," Gabriel said through his teeth. He stalked across the courtyard and out through the old stone gate. Another Clarington chit. As if he had not already had enough of Clarington women to last him a lifetime.
She had a hell of a nerve playing her games with him, he thought. Did she assume she could follow in her sister's footsteps? Did she believe she could safely amuse herself with him?
"Damnation."
Gabriel paced to the edge of the cliffs and stood gazing down into the churning sea. The desire that had burned in him for the Veiled Lady was as hot as ever. He would have her, he promised himself. Yes, he would definitely have her. But on his own terms.
How did she dare try her wiles on him after what her family had done to him? he wondered. Was she really so reckless or so arrogant? The frustration and fury he had felt eight years ago roared back into life as if it had all happened yesterday.
But it had not happened yesterday, he thought grimly. He was not the same idealistic, penniless fool he had been then. Lady Phoebe's father could not protect her this time the way he had protected his other daughter eight years ago.
The Veiled Lady was more vulnerable than she could have possibly imagined. And so was her family.
The wealth Gabriel had brought back with him from the South Seas was more than a match for the Clarington fortune. And that wealth was now coupled to a title that was the equal of Clarington's. With that kind of fortune and status came power. Great power.
Of course, Gabriel reminded himself suddenly, the Veiled Lady had no inkling of just how wealthy he was. No one knew him or anything about him. He was as anonymous to the Social World as he was to the readers of his novel.
Lady Phoebe Layton wanted his assistance on a quest. Gabriel's hand closed into a fist. Very well, she would have it. And the price she would pay for his services would be high, indeed.
He would use her to punish Clarington for everything that had happened eight years ago.
Chapter 5
The Marchioness of Frowbridge set a delicate stitch in the hem of a little muslin dress. "You need not be quite so cool with Lord Kilbourne, you know, Phoebe. I am certain he is going to offer for you soon. You may give him some encouragement now without fear of anyone thinking you overbold."
Phoebe poured another cup of tea and made a face. Her sister did not notice. Meredith was too busy concentrating on the flower she was embroidering onto her daughter's tiny gown.
It occurred to Phoebe, not for the first time, that anyone looking at Meredith saw a paragon of wifehood and motherhood. It was not an illusion. Meredith was a paragon. But few people outside the immediate circle of her family were aware of the amazing talent for business and financial matters that lay beneath the breathtakingly perfect surface. In addition to being a devoted wife and mother, she was an active advisor to her husband in his many investments.
An inclination for such matters was a common trait in Phoebe's family. Her father, the earl, was a mathematician who loved to
"Hell and damnation." Gabriel could not believe his eyes. Rage poured through him. His mysterious, illusive, fascinating Veiled Lady was none other than Clarington's youngest chit.
Gabriel crumpled the letter savagely in his fist.
The youngest daughter. Not the one who had begged him to save her from an arranged marriage eight years ago. Not the one who had nearly gotten him killed in a duel with her brother. The other one. The one he had never met because she had still been in the schoolroom at the time.
She would have been no more than sixteen when Clarington had destroyed Gabriel financially and forced him out of England. She would have been a mere girl when Gabriel had been forced to sell off the contents of his father's library, the only legacy he had from his parent, in order to survive.
Right years ago. The Veiled Lady was no more than twenty-four at the most. Yes, it all fit.
"Bloody hell," Gabriel said through his teeth. He stalked across the courtyard and out through the old stone gate. Another Clarington chit. As if he had not already had enough of Clarington women to last him a lifetime.
She had a hell of a nerve playing her games with him, he thought. Did she assume she could follow in her sister's footsteps? Did she believe she could safely amuse herself with him?
"Damnation."
Gabriel paced to the edge of the cliffs and stood gazing down into the churning sea. The desire that had burned in him for the Veiled Lady was as hot as ever. He would have her, he promised himself. Yes, he would definitely have her. But on his own terms.
How did she dare try her wiles on him after what her family had done to him? he wondered. Was she really so reckless or so arrogant? The frustration and fury he had felt eight years ago roared back into life as if it had all happened yesterday.
But it had not happened yesterday, he thought grimly. He was not the same idealistic, penniless fool he had been then. Lady Phoebe's father could not protect her this time the way he had protected his other daughter eight years ago.
The Veiled Lady was more vulnerable than she could have possibly imagined. And so was her family.
The wealth Gabriel had brought back with him from the South Seas was more than a match for the Clarington fortune. And that wealth was now coupled to a title that was the equal of Clarington's. With that kind of fortune and status came power. Great power.
Of course, Gabriel reminded himself suddenly, the Veiled Lady had no inkling of just how wealthy he was. No one knew him or anything about him. He was as anonymous to the Social World as he was to the readers of his novel.
Lady Phoebe Layton wanted his assistance on a quest. Gabriel's hand closed into a fist. Very well, she would have it. And the price she would pay for his services would be high, indeed.
He would use her to punish Clarington for everything that had happened eight years ago.
Chapter 5
The Marchioness of Frowbridge set a delicate stitch in the hem of a little muslin dress. "You need not be quite so cool with Lord Kilbourne, you know, Phoebe. I am certain he is going to offer for you soon. You may give him some encouragement now without fear of anyone thinking you overbold."
Phoebe poured another cup of tea and made a face. Her sister did not notice. Meredith was too busy concentrating on the flower she was embroidering onto her daughter's tiny gown.
It occurred to Phoebe, not for the first time, that anyone looking at Meredith saw a paragon of wifehood and motherhood. It was not an illusion. Meredith was a paragon. But few people outside the immediate circle of her family were aware of the amazing talent for business and financial matters that lay beneath the breathtakingly perfect surface. In addition to being a devoted wife and mother, she was an active advisor to her husband in his many investments.
An inclination for such matters was a common trait in Phoebe's family. Her father, the earl, was a mathematician who loved to
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