Page 22 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
Carrington shook his head as he leaned back in his desk chair. “I just said to Guinevere the other night, after having supper at her parents’ home, that Freddy seemed unhappy to me. Of course, we both credited it to the normal tension Guinevere’s mother creates when trying to get one of her daughters wed. We both assumed Freddy had someone she wished to court her that Lady Fairfax did not approve of.”
“I think it’s more than that,” Gabe said, unwilling to reveal the private things he felt Frederica would not want made known, such as the fact that she wanted a lover, not a husband and that she felt she didn’t belong in theton. Never had he wanted to take a woman up on her offer more than he had Frederica in the moment she’d made hers, but that was as impossible as he’d said it was.
“Beckford, did ye hear me? I asked why do ye say that about Freddy?”
Gabe blinked and was surprised to find that there was a glass of liquor in front of him and that Carrington held one in his hand. He couldn’t believe he’d been so consumed by thoughts of Frederica he’d not even noted his friend stand and pour them each a drink.
“Beckford?”
Hell, he’d wished he’d not made that comment. “You should talk to her, or better yet, have her sister talk to her. It’s not my place to relay what Frederica told me.”
Carrington’s brows dipped together. “And when wouldFredericahave told ye these private things?”
“She gave me leave to call her Frederica,” Gabe said, feeling defensive. “Well, actually, she insisted I call her Freddy, but I refused.” He paused and took a long swallow of the liquor, welcoming the warmth.
“Did she now?” Carrington replied. “And when did she give ye this leave?”
Gabe told Carrington about seeing her home after her encounter with Marco, but he left out the part about the kiss. When Gabe finished relaying the information, Carrington was looking at him as if he was about to launch an inquisition. Gabe stood and added, “If you have that list for me and Blythe, I’ll take it and be on my way. You know I don’t particularly care for balls.”
“Neither does Freddy.” As Carrington stood, his unwavering gaze assessed Gabe. “It seems ye two have that in common.”
Rather than answer what seemed to be a loaded question, Gabe reached out and took the list that Carrington extended, unfolded it, and scanned the four names. He was surprised by only one—Huntley, Frederica’s brother. “I thought Huntley was supposed to wed some time ago?”
Carrington nodded. “He was, but his betrothed died quite unexpectedly. Some sort of lung infection, I think it was. Huntley is a good sort with means to take care of yer sister and keep her safe. He’s honorable, and he’s proven with his willingness to wed the American that he does not require his wife be part of theton. As for the other three men, they have means to keep yer sister in a good life and are not so ruled by the strictures of Society—or overbearing mothers—that they’d feel unable to consider marrying a woman who is not of theton.”
Gabe folded the paper and put it in his coat pocket. “Whether they could handle my sister is another matter.”
Carrington laughed and came around from his desk. “True, and that is something ye’ll have to deduce. If there’s nothing else to discuss, I’d like to return to the ball and ensure Freddy is safe. Brooke was invited, and—”
Gabe didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. He was out the door and striding down the hall by the time Carrington caught up with him. As the man fell into step beside him, Gabe said, “Why the devil didn’t you tell me Brooke was here?”
“Because I wasn’t overly concerned that Brooke would be so foolish to attempt something at my home.”
“He’s dangerous. Mark my words,” Gabe said, trying and failing not to sound short. “And dangerous men are foolish men.” He gained the ballroom and started scanning for Frederica or Brooke. “Do you see either of them?”
“Nay, but I see Guinevere. Come on.”
Gabe followed Carrington toward Lady Guinevere, who happened to be standing in a small group with her brother and a man Gabe recognized as one of the men who’d been with Brooke in the basement of the Orcus Society last night. A sense of foreboding settled in Gabe’s gut. “Who’s the man with blond hair standing by your wife?”
“Lord Habbersham,” Carrington said, and a tightness in his friend’s tone caused Gabe to look at him. Carrington’s jaw was clenched, and he had a fierce frown on his face.
“He is friends with Brooke,” Gabe supplied.
“Aye,” Carrington answered, his pace increasing to that of the urgency Gabe himself felt. When they reached the circle, Carrington hadn’t even come to a full stop when he said, “Guin, where’s Frederica?”
Lady Guinevere scowled at her husband. “Carrington, you remember Lord Habbersham.”
“Aye.” Carrington glared at the man. “Ye’re not welcome in my home, and ye can take yer friend Brooke with ye.”
“Asher!” Lady Guinevere chided, letting propriety slip by calling her husband by his first name.
“I’ll explain later, Guin,” Carrington supplied.
She nodded without hesitation, showing the level of trust between the two of them. It was a bond Gabe momentarily felt envious of, but he dismissed it and concentrated on Habbersham. “Where’s Brooke?”
“Listen, Beckford,” Habbersham said, throwing up his hands, palms facing Gabe as the man took a step backward. “I don’t condone what Brooke did. I had no idea he was up to such a thing. All I know is that not long after we arrived, he gave me names of six people he wanted me to find, and he asked me to see that they go immediately to the terrace. I’ve done that, and—”
Gabe closed the distance the man had tried to create. “Stop talking.” The force of his tone matched what he wanted to do with his fists. The man flinched. “Is Brooke on the terrace?” Gabe asked.
