Page 38 of A Bride By Morning
Lydia winced. She knew intimately the heartbreak of childhood love developing into estrangement. But Caroline was not open about her falling out with the Duke of Hastings, who spent much of his time traveling when he wasn’t seeing to his duties in the House of Lords. He never even visited his wife.
“Will you be departing for Ravenhill, then?” Lydia asked, referring to the duke and duchess’ estate in the country.
Caroline looked annoyed. “No. I’m not letting Julian run me out of London. I’ll endure his presence untilheleaves.”
Though she sounded confident, Lydia perceived an undercurrent of frustration. Caroline was more upset than she let on. But there was no time for Lydia to inquire further—at that moment, Lady Arundell clapped her hands and let everyone know that the aria was about to commence.
Gabriel approached and gently took Lydia’s arm. “I apologize for interrupting, but Lady Montgomery and I will take our seats.”
Caroline nodded graciously. “Of course. I will see you for tea when you return to London, Lydia.”
As Gabriel led her into their seats, he murmured, “Is all well?”
“Yes.”
He assisted her into a chair in the ballroom, repurposed for the singer’s performance. The candlelight was low, presenting the room with a dim, pleasant glow. Clothing rustled as those in attendance located their seats. As Gabriel settled beside her, his thigh pressed to hers. Even through layers of clothing, she could feel his warmth and solidity.
Lydia used the rare opportunity of proximity and circumstance to shift closer. “This is my first time hearing an opera singer,” she whispered.
He glanced at her in surprise. “Is it?”
“Aunt Francis preferred the theater, so she sat out these social gatherings.”
Gabriel nodded. “Is that why you plucked this particular invitation from the pile out of the dozens of others?”
“Perhaps.” She fidgeted with her reticule. “Do you enjoy the opera?”
The low light obscured everyone’s features. Gabriel didn’t have to play the charming gentleman now; his facade could rest. It had been easy to forget, until this moment, that the true Gabriel operated in the shadows.
“I don’t enjoy anything,” Gabriel said in a low voice.
“No?” She whispered. “Nothing at all?”
He seemed to consider her question. Then he whispered, “I enjoy you.”
Lydia smiled at that. It softened something inside her as the opera singer stepped into a halo of candlelight and began to sing.
And Lydia’s armor started to crumble.
16
Gabriel couldn’t focus on the aria.
Instead, he watched Lydia as she leaned forward, so captivated that her whole body reacted to the singer’s voice like a reed surrendering to the wind. Tears glistened in her eyes. Some strange emotion surged within Gabriel—yearning, yes. But it combined with a sort of envy in seeing her thus moved by a performance that made him feel so little. What would it be like to share that unabashed enjoyment again? To experience emotions so fully?
Lydia reached over to grasp his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Gabriel was startled by the gesture, his jealousy abruptly replaced with an overwhelming desire. This woman smoothed the serrated edges of his soul and trusted him enough to seek the comfort of his touch. She tended to injuries he had only previously nursed himself. For so long, he had existed only in terms of his title—but Lord Montgomery was a man with no dark past, while Gabriel St. Clair’s was as black as the deepest ocean. She alone glimpsed the truth of him.
And still, she reached for his hand.
Still, she had kissed him two nights before.
Her lips parted as her concentration remained fixed on the singer. Gabriel focused on those luscious lips, all too aware of their petal-soft texture. He regretted not kissing her before he’d left England—he’d squandered so many things with her. It was miraculous that she didn’t hate him.
Lydia moved. The flickering candlelight stroked along her cheekbone, exposing the flushed skin of her face from the shadows. Gabriel’s breath caught. He envisioned her like that in his bedchamber, naked and writhing as he fucked her. The image was so potent that a peculiar dizziness struck Gabriel and left him unsteady.
His regard turned sharp, assessing. Did he affecther? Or was he alone in this madness?
He was already tugging at his glove before he finished the thought.
