Page 30 of My Darling Rogue
He was furious. Enough that it kept him from lurking in the shadows as he usually did in such situations. During the hour she remained in the ballroom, Gabriel stood like a sentinel.
Disturbingly close and stonily silent.
Despite her deep-seated inclinations toward rebellion, Celia remained seated, fuming even as she did so. She should accept one of the many offers to dance. She should stroll the terrace while on a gentleman’s arm. Enjoy the balmy night air and the fragrance of roses and jasmine. Maybe even grant a stolen kiss or two.
But thinking about those things made her stomach clench with distaste. How had Gabriel ruined those things for her? How had she given him the means of destroying any chance she possessed of finding a suitable husband? One perfect for her unfortunate situation?
Celia rubbed her leg in an unconscious gesture. Glancing in Gabriel’s direction, she found him staring directly at her. She froze in realization. She was assuaging the very spot his teeth had nipped.
Gabriel smirked, his golden-brown eyes gravitating to her thigh. And when he looked back up, their eyes connecting, Celia shivered with awareness. Gabriel appeared ravenous. As if he might pounce upon her and finish devouring her for dessert. Only the thinnest veneer of civility kept him from following through, and Celia wondered how long it would be before that shell cracked into a million pieces.
So attuned was she to him, Celia did not hear Miss Paula Heaton. The young lady asked her question a second time while sliding into an unoccupied chair.
“Will you still conduct the games, Lady Celia?”
Celia tore her gaze from Gabriel’s narrowed one, focusing instead on the pretty girl sitting beside her. “Yes, of course, Miss Heaton,” she replied with a smile. “Are there others still interested in such pastimes?”
“Please, call me Paula, if you like. And yes, so far, there are nine of us, including yourself. We are ready to begin if you are.”
Gabriel’s glare burned Celia. She could feel the heat of it, the intensity of his disapproval, but she refused to acknowledge him. He would not dare try and stop her. He would not dare.
His deep, rumbling voice surprised both Celia and Paula Heaton. Together, they stared up at Gabriel as he bent at the waist and executed a respectful bow.
“Gather them, Miss Heaton, and meet myself and Lady Celia in the library.”
* * *
Gabriel graspedCelia’s arm as they exited the ballroom. With his jaw set in a tight line, he was obviously furious. Marching her along, his anger made him forget the tenderness of her ankle.
Only when she stumbled with a small gasp of pain did the man come to his senses. With a muttered curse, he halted in the middle of the wide corridor. Celia found herself hauled up alongside him, his gaze impenetrable as it searched hers.
“Does it pain you?”
“It does not,” Celia replied stubbornly, tossing her head back. “Just a twinge from being manhandled by a monster.”
“If you are lying to me, I shall throw you up over my shoulder and personally deposit you in your bed,” he grunted. “Where you shall remain until I know for certain you are completely healed.”
“An impossible scenario,” Celia ground out. “Your concern is deceiving when you drag me along like a hangman leading me to the gallows.”
Gabriel’s gaze flared, an instant spark promising retribution for her insolence. But then his eyes softened. His grip loosened so his hand now cupped her elbow. “I forget myself with you, Lady Celia. Indeed, I forget my place. Forget I have no right to touch you or even speak to you. But you have a way of inciting all manners of emotions inside me. And I am just a man, after all.”
Celia sighed, her lips tight with annoyance. “Gabriel, don’t ever believe you haven’t the right. You’ve more than most men of my acquaintance.”
He appeared startled by her words, but Lady Caroline Robertson’s approach interrupted whatever Gabriel might have said in response.
“Ah, there you are! Come, come, let us get these games started,” she trilled, clapping her hands with delight.
“You are joining us?” Celia asked curiously.
“In a chaperone capacity only, my dear. And I thought I’d keep Mister Rose company. Surely, he attends for the sole purpose of keeping these young bucks in line.” The widow’s appreciative glance swept over Gabriel’s form.
Celia’s fists tightened. She recognized the lascivious glint in the other woman’s eyes.
“How kind of you, Lady Robertson,” Celia said, stepping away from Gabriel, although he seemed faintly disturbed by the distance she placed between them.
The others joined them in the corridor. There were more men than women but that wasn’t unusual. Lord Harvey hung at the back of the group, his dark eyes bouncing between Celia and Gabriel.
“Well, it seemed a necessary endeavor. However, do not worry I shall watch the participants too closely.” Caroline sidled closer alongside Gabriel until their arms were a hair’s breadth from touching. “I won’t ruin everyone’s fun.”
