Page 40 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
“Tell the guards to check outside,” Gabriel ordered. “You go with them. And send Blythe up here.”
“I’m already here,” Blythe replied from behind Freddy.
Freddy looked over Gabriel’s shoulder to see Blythe with a pistol in her hand. “What’s going on?” Freddy asked, a tingling sensation sweeping over her body.
“Are you hurt?” Gabriel asked. “Can you stand?”
“No, I’m not hurt.” Well, technically her bottom was throbbing, but she kept that information to herself. “I can stand. What’s happening?”
Gabriel was already setting her down and pushing her toward Blythe. “Guard her.”
“Gabriel!” Freddy said to his back as he strode to the window.
Blythe pressed a finger to her lips. “He’ll tell you after.”
After?After what? After someone tried to attack them? Was this the enemy Gabriel had spoken of?
Coldness struck Freddy at her core, and she shivered. Then she gasped and ran to the window Gabriel had opened and now was climbing through. “Gabriel!” she said, clutching at his arm. “You’ll fall!”
“I’ve climbed a lot more dangerous things than this tree, Frederica,” he said, not turning back toward her. Below, in the darkness, light suddenly bobbed, and she saw four men standing there.
“Bear,” Gabriel called down.
“He got away,” Bear replied, seemingly knowing who the “he” was whom Gabriel was referring to. And of course Bear knew. Everyone was privy to the information but her.
“Damn it all to hell.” Gabriel turned toward her, leaning away from the tree branch he stood on and toward the window ledge. She thought to aid him, but before she could figure out how, he was inside once more, standing before her but looking out the window. “That tree,” he growled, shoving his hands through his hair, then settling them on the back of his neck. “I should have realized that tree could be used to get in here.”
“Gabe,” Blythe said, moving past Freddy to stand behind her brother. “She’s fine.” She set a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. He jerked visibly at Blythe’s touch and swung toward her, his gaze bouncing from his sister to Freddy to the window.
“I should have realized,” he repeated, misery in his words. “I’ve gotten soft. Christ.” He yanked his hands through his hair again and finally looked at Freddy. Her heart thumped at the worry in his eyes. “If he’d taken you—”
“He didn’t,” Freddy said, stepping around Blythe to stand in front of Gabriel. She set her hands on his chest, feeling his muscles twitch under her fingertips. She didn’t even know who “he” was, but in this moment, it hardly mattered. “I’m fine, as Blythe said.”
“Yes.” His attention was beyond her now, toward the bedchamber door, and a fierce frown creased his face. “I miscalculated. Gravely.” Suddenly, his eyes settled on her again, something intense in their depths. He grabbed her gently by the arm. “You’ll be coming with me.”
“Where are you taking me?” She had a sudden horrible fear that he was going to try to return her to her parents. That was ridiculous, wasn’t it?
“To my home,” he said, tugging her toward the door. His home. Not theirs—his. But it was the place she wanted to be and a move in the right direction.
Still, on the threshold she dug in her heels. “Gabriel!” she gasped. “I cannot go out like this!”
He glanced over his shoulders and swept his gaze down from her face to her feet and back up. When his eyes met hers, she shivered once more, but it wasn’t from the cold. It was from the hunger on his face.
The notes of a pianoforte woke Freddy. She sat up with a start and blinked into the darkness, her mind taking a moment to recall where she was—Gabriel’s home in Covent Garden. No, her home now too. Pleasure rippled through her, but then she frowned, recalling he’d had his butler install her in a guest bedchamber. She’d attempted to ask him questions on the short ride here, but he’d put her off, telling her they’d talk tomorrow, and then they had entered his home, and he’d surprised her by handing her off to the butler with orders to put her in the guest bedchamber.
Gabriel intended for her to stay here temporarily, but she, however, did not. She debated for a moment whether she should remain abed, but curiosity to know if it was Gabriel playing at this late hour had her rising from the bed, pulling her wrapper over her night rail, and following the music down the hall and the winding stairs, all the while half expecting to encounter one of Gabriel’s, no—their—servants. The music drifted from the parlor, or at least she thought she recalled that the parlor was to the right. She tiptoed through the darkness toward the room, and as she neared it, the music rose in volume and light spilled out from under the cracked door.
Freddy carefully opened the door, and her breath caught as her stomach tightened. Across the room at the pianoforte, Gabriel sat shirtless, head bent and hands flying over the keys. His absorption in the music made him oblivious to her presence. Moonlight and an orange glow from the nearby candelabra slashed across his face. His body moved fluidly in time with his playing, and every half breath, his face would appear in the light, and she found herself gazing with a slack mouth. His playing was beautiful. It would not have been something she would have expected from a man born and reared on the ugly streets of London.
She moved just inside the doorway and gently shut it. This was a side of Gabriel he never would have willingly showed her. His dark hair gleamed in the light. It was cut shorter than when she’d first met him, but she liked it. The shorter style suited his strong jaw. Even from where she stood across the room, she could see his chest and stomach muscles rippling as he moved. There was not a bit of fat on the man, and simply looking at him made heat gather in her belly and an ache pulse to life between her legs.
She wanted him, but not just for physical pleasure, and she wanted answers. To break down the barriers between them she had to be brave. Her heart fluttered wildly in her breast, making her eardrums throb with rushing blood. She took a breath and then a step. And then another. And when she was halfway across the room, he suddenly glanced up, his eyes locking on her. The music came to a halt, the silence crashing in on her, and her lungs constricted with fear that he’d send her from the room. Yet, he didn’t say a word as she walked toward him. He turned around fully on the bench to face her and watched her with a hungry, guarded gaze. When she came to stand before him, the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine.
Without a word, he hooked his hands around the backs of her legs and tugged her toward him, sliding his palms up her legs to settle on her bottom. His heat seeped through the thin material of her wrapper and night rail. Her insides vibrated as he tugged her still closer until he grasped one of the ties of her wrapper with his teeth, and with a tug, loosened the wrapper. She bit her lip, her pulse skittering, when he bent his head and did the same to the other tie, causing her wrapper to fall open.
His strong hands circled from her bottom across her hips, settling there as his eyes drank her in, making her feel beautiful in a way she’d never felt.
“I meant to wait before touching you again,” he said, his voice husky.
