Page 27 of Lady Frederica and the Scot Who Would Not
His sister shrugged. “I’m just repeating what they said. They said she must be the best in the bedchamber for you to fight over her. They said that, despite the many times they’d come to the club, they’d never seen you so much as look at a woman. And you know, Gabe… They’re right.”
Now she was giving him a probing look. “Leave it be, Blythe,” he said, enraged that Frederica’s reputation was in tatters.
“Why?” Blythe pushed. “Because you like her and you don’t want to because you want to mourn Georgette forever? Or is really because you won’t pursue her because you’re afraid she’ll die? Because you’re afraid Hawk will return and do something to her?”
Gabe slammed his glass on the bar. “All the above,” he said, in lieu of truly answering. “Now just leave it be. All your pushing, prodding, and meddling won’t change my mind. Nothing will.”
“Beck,” came a call from the other side of the door.
“What is it, Tom?” Gabe called back to his right-hand man.
“Missive delivered for ye,” the Scot replied. “Bear gave it to me to pass to ye.”
Gabe stalked to the door, took the missive, and thanked Tom. After closing the door again, Gabe opened the envelope and stared down in surprise at the note from Frederica’s father.
You have ruined my daughter. Call upon me after the supper hour to discuss what you are going to do about it.
The Earl of Fairfax
“What is it?” Blythe demanded.
Gabe looked to his sister as his fingers curled around the missive. “It’s a summons from Frederica’s father. He wants me to call upon him tonight to discuss what I’m going to do about ruining Frederica.”
“Well, even I know you can’t go around telling everyone a lady is yours and not expect someone to take it seriously, Gabe. So what are you going to do?” She gave him an expectant look, and he knew what she was thinking.
“I cannot wed her, Blythe.”
His sister narrowed her eyes. “I don’t see why not. You’re not wed. She’s not wed. She’s ruined. You caused it. You like her. She wants to live here. And—”
“I told you why not already,” he interrupted. He needed a good fight. He was going to explode at any moment.
“Oh yes, ghost, guilt, and fear of yourself and Hawk.”
“I’m not afraid of myself or Hawk. I know who I am, and I accept it. And I know what Hawk would do if he ever thought—Never mind. I am not afraid of Hawk, and I will eventually find him and deal with him.” He had been searching for Hawk since he left, to no avail. The man had gone underground, and no amount of prodding had brought him up. Gabe would give Hawk this—the men from Covent Garden who had worked with Hawk were still very loyal, which made Gabe think they had not stopped working together. No doubt doing illegal things. “Frederica does not need to wed me.”
“Yes, it’s very sensible to let poor Freddy be ruined for life, never get wed, be forced to live in poverty, possibly become a Cyprian to survive if her parents disown her because you’re afraid to lose someone again and won’t admit it.”
“You are being dramatic,” he said to his sister’s back just before she disappeared out of the office without so much as a farewell. But dramatic or not, he could not get Frederica out of his mind. He had not compromised her—not really. He could not wed her, but he could not ignore the situation, either. He started to reach for a pen to answer the summons and say he’d come when there was a commotion in the hall.
When he stepped into the shadowy corridor to see what the noise was about, a man charged him and barreled into him with fists flying. By the time he’d evaded two punches, landed one of his own, and rolled onto the man to pin him down, he realized it was Frederica’s brother, Huntley.
Huntley glowered up at him. “You seduced my sister!”
Gabe was about to claim his innocence, but he realized, technically, it wasn’t true. He had kissed Frederica, and it had been a thorough kiss, one he had not been able to forget. And it was in the thinking of her soft lips under his that Huntley landed a solid punch to Gabe’s right eye. He likely would have landed another if Blythe hadn’t come from the darkness and hit the man over the head with a book.
Chapter Ten
Freddy wasn’t normally a coward, but when her father had forbidden her from joining him in his study to meet with Beckford, she’d been relieved. Yet, now that she could see Beckford in her father’s study and she could see her father’s face, which looked angry, she wished she had at least stayed inside the house, instead of retreating to the garden, so she could hear what was being said. In the house, she could have lingered near the door and listened. In fact, she still could.
She rose from the bench that faced her father’s study, intent on going to eavesdrop, but before she could even turn toward the path that led to the door, a voice came at her back. “Are you trying to read their lips?”
Freddy whipped around to face Guinevere, whom she’d not seen since the ball. She’d half feared that Guinevere wasn’t speaking to her, either. “No. It’s too dark for lipreading. I was looking at their expressions. What are you doing here? I thought you were terribly vexed with me.”
“I was,” Guinevere said, “but then Asher told me how Lord Brooke had intended to ruin you because of your involvement in his Cyprian leaving him. I can hardly be cross with you that the man was successful in his endeavor, though if you’d told anyone in SLAR what you were doing in Covent Garden with Blythe Beckford, we would have helped.”
“I tried to tell you,” Freddy said. “Actually, I tried to tell you, Lilias, and Constantine, but I was met with much the same response from each of you.”
“Which was?”
