Page 40 of Lady of Providence
He nearly jumped at the knock at the door, and he turned toward the voice of his butler.
“Your Grace,” came his gravelly voice. “You have a visitor.”
Gabriel stood, confused, and shock coursed through him when Elizabeth walked through the door — alone. Never before had Gabriel felt so fortunate that his butler had been loyal to him and his family for years now. He was a man who could be trusted to keep the secrets within these walls. He nodded at him as Elizabeth took a step into the room, requested, “A towel?” and then bid him to close the door.
Gabriel then looked to Elizabeth, who remained standing there within the first few feet of his study.
“Is it now raining?” he asked.
It was a stupid question, for her entire being was sopping wet. Her hair was pressed against her face underneath a nearly ruined headdress, water dripping down the strands onto the plush deep green carpet at her feet. She looked down upon it, as well as at her now-ruined slippers and the damp folds of her silk gown, as though she was recognizing the water stains for the first time.
“Oh, dear,” was all she murmured, before finally looking up at him. “I’ve ruined your carpet.”
“Not ruined,” he clarified. “Marked slightly, perhaps. It seems you forgot your trusty umbrella this evening.”
“I am so sorry,” she said, biting her lip. “Forgive me?”
“Always,” he said, and at that moment so much more was spoken than what was said aloud.
CHAPTER19
He had said he would always forgive her. At least, that’s what Elizabeth thought he had meant as he watched her standing there ruining the beautiful, likely very expensive, carpet beneath her.
He would always forgive her, whereas she could not seem to find it in her heart to do the same for him — though, one could hardly compare a wet carpet to a tryst with Lady Pomfret — and perhaps others — now could one?
Elizabeth took the subtle headdress with its humble ornamentation of a few small jewels from her head, rolling it in her bare hands, though she was aware she must look like a wet dog with her hair hanging in cloying chunks around her face. Her auburn locks were typically nearly straight, but once they became wet, they sprang up into a curl that was now most likely out of control.
Meanwhile, Gabriel was the vision of perfection, slouched back once again in the wide, comfortable chair, his legs splayed, without a jacket or cravat, his shirt open to reveal the dark skin of his chest beneath it. The sight of him made her knees tremble ever so slightly, and a slow heat began to rise through her body.
She sighed. Coming here had been a terrible idea. In fact, she wasn’t sure why she had even had the idea at all, or what had ever possessed her to act upon such a thought.
Gabriel crossed one leg over the other as he leaned back in his chair and casually folded his hands in his lap, perusing her. “What are you doing here?”
Elizabeth nodded. It was an appropriate question. Whatwasshe doing here? It was after midnight, and when she left Lord and Lady Holderness’ party, she should have gone directly home. When Justine had decided to leave, Elizabeth had offered to accompany her — in fact, she had more than wanted to do so; but her grandmother urged her to continue her conversations, reminding her of just how important they were. They lived not far, and Justine promised the carriage would return for her shortly and would await Elizabeth for whenever she was ready.
It didn’t take long until she was impatiently waiting for it, but the moment she was in the carriage, the thought of returning home caused a feeling of restlessness to course through her bones.
She had looked down at her hands, remembered her loss of gloves and Gabriel’s possession of them, and then determined that she must travel to his house to see them returned.
And, perhaps, they had some unfinished business to discuss.
Of course, Elizabeth wasn’t completely foolish. She had returned home and then found a hack to take her to the Duke’s house. It wouldn’t do for her driver to know her late-night whereabouts, nor for anyone to see her carriage take her there or be waiting in front of Gabriel’s spectacular Mayfair home. They might receive the incorrect impression of what it meant.
Now that she was here, standing in Gabriel’s study, with him sitting so nonchalantly in front of her, she felt the complete fool, despite her earlier conviction that she was far from it.
Just then the door opened slightly more than a crack, and the butler passed her a couple of pieces of cloth, which she gratefully took to dry her hair before removing her cloak to replace it with a towel to cover her dress. She had asked the hack to drop her off down the street so no one returning home would see her, but she hadn’t realized just how hard the rain was coming down.
“I, ah…” she cleared her throat, looking around her at the deep masculinity of the office that bespoke of the same characteristics as the man himself. “I came for my gloves.”
“Your gloves?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow, his expression causing her insides to turn to warm liquid. “Unfortunately I cannot aid you in your quest.”
“Did you not take them home?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she attempted to determine what his current ploy was. For he took every situation and turned it around to suit his own purposes. Including something as simple as when she had removed her gloves to feel the water on her fingertips.
“I did, but I gave them to my valet in order for him to have them laundered,” he said, spreading his hands wide. “So you see, you will have to wait. But Elizabeth,” he drew out the syllables of her name in that deep, sultry voice that made her tingle all over. “I could have returned them to you in the morning. Don’t tell me I now hold your only pair of which you are currently in desperate need.”
“I have more pairs,” she murmured, looking down at her hands now, which she folded within her navy blue cloak.
“Yet you felt the need to come all the way to my lodgings in order to find your gloves.”
