Page 17 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
“Your statement,” Gabe said, “is exactly why I’m worried. Brooke threatened to destroy you too, and you don’t seem to even care.”
“I care about my safety,” she said, patting him on the chest before padding over to the ring once more, sitting down, and stretching her legs out in front of her. “But,” she continued as her gaze met his, “I have you to worry about me and watch over me, and I know you’ll protect me. What worries me,Gabe, is that you don’t seem to care aboutyoursafety, and you’re constantly refusing to let me watch over you.”
Of course he wasn’t going to let her risk herself for him. Gabe rubbed a hand over the back of the knotted muscles in his neck, then joined his sister at the ring. He sat and stretched his legs out to match her position. “You seem to be confused about who is supposed to watch over whom. I’m the man; you’re the woman. I’m your elder brother. Those things make me your protector.”
She wiggled her finger at him. “Mama always said we protected each other.”
Gabe clenched his teeth. Their mother had also told him with her dying breath,Protect your sister as no one ever protected me.He shoved his hand through his hair at the wave of guilt that always came with the memory of those words, words he’d never share with Blythe. She didn’t need to feel the remorse he did. That thought of his mother and guilt brought Georgette to mind which led directly to Hawk. Normally, he could block out thoughts of Hawk, but tonight they pushed through his invisible wall. He’d not seen the man since the day he’d come to the club after Georgette’s death, but once a year, on the anniversary of that terrible night, he got a one-sentence letter from Hawk:Met anyone yet?
“You’re thinking about Hawk.”
Blythe’s matter-of-fact statement jerked Gabe’s attention back to her. He opened his mouth to deny it, but she shook her head at him. “Don’t bother trying to lie about it. You get a very distinct look when you think about him. I don’t think he’s ever coming back, Gabe. It’s been four years since he disappeared.”
“Oh, he will. You know he will.”
“The letter.”
Gabe nodded. It was a small sliver of the story that was Gabe and Hawk’s tale that Blythe actually knew the truth of.
Blythe sighed. “If you met someone,” she said, her words soft, as if she were walking on eggs and needed to be careful not to break them. “A lady to fill the hole in your heart that losing Georgette caused. You think he’d come back then.”
Gabe had long ago ceased contemplating telling his sister the truth, not that he’d ever seriously considered it anyway. There was no point. “I know he would.”
“Gabe, you can’t actually intend to live alone forever. To never allow anyone in.”
“I can,” he said, and because he could see his sister winding up to lecture him, he added, “But what I am really thinking on now is how best to ensure your safety.”
“Hawk would never hurt me if he ever came back to Covent Garden.”
“I agree. It’s me he hates. But I’m not speaking of Hawk. There are plenty of other dangers lurking in Covent Garden, which is why I want you to wed a lord and get the hell out of here.”
He braced himself to argue with her, but she said, “I agree,” surprising him. As she poured more whisky into his glass, he waited for her to continue. “Which is whyImade the bargain with Freddy.”
“Frederica,” he said absently. She was a lady. She was fragile, as Georgette had been fragile. The difference was that Georgette had known it and was timid, while Frederica didn’t seem to understand how easily she could die. “You agree?” he asked, knowing she’d said she did, but after all the arguing they had done on this exact point, he was finding it hard to believe.
She stared at him with wide, not-so-innocent eyes. “Didn’t I just say I did?”
“You did, but I feel I must’ve damaged my hearing in the ring tonight.”
She smirked. “Shall I recant?”
“Good God, no. I do believe this is the first time we have ever come to such easy agreement. You did say you agree that you should wed a lord, yes?”
Blythe nodded. For a woman who stated often and loudly that she never wished to wed, Gabe was certain he was missing some important fact. “Have you met someone?”
“No.”
“But you now wish to wed, and a lord to boot?”
“Yes, and yes.” Impatience underlay her tone. “Can we get back to Freddy?”
“Frederica,” he corrected again. “Were we ever on her?” Damn, but an image of him atop Frederica popped into his thick skull.
“Gabe.”
Gabe smiled. Blythe always had possessed a unique ability to say his name as a warning rather than a word simply used to address him.
“Blythe,” he returned, knowing good and well he possessed the same ability. And before his sister could continue this game, he said, “Quit calling her Freddy. She’s Frederica.”
