Druid Temptation (A Druid Quest Novel Book 2) (10 page)

“Here, now. No need to be vile. That’s not how you treat a lady.” Geoffrey patted Gertrude’s shoulder, the peacock practically bursting out of his clothing as he defended his benefactor. “Come, my dear, you need a breath of fresh air. You don’t want to overtax yourself.”

Gabriel watched Gertrude and her minion head out the door. He should be relieved, but the old bat was right. Diana would not be accepted without assistance. The upper-crust tabbies would tear her apart, and the knowledge infuriated him.

He didn’t want her to change.

She didn’t seem to care about wealth or status, and he didn’t want her to become a carbon copy of all the other boring, petty ladies who attended the balls and teas.

With her inherent beauty and grace, he didn’t want her to realize she could have found a far more suitable husband.

Ashmore lingered in the hall. “It’s good to see you back in town. Auntie will try to spread her vile gossip, but she has a limited audience. You may call upon me if you need anything.”

Gabriel relaxed slightly, not sure what to expect from the young man. The rest of his family treated him as an outsider ever since he’d disobeyed them and joined the army as a youth. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother’s passing.”

“He’s always been a gambler. It was only a matter of time before he accepted one too many stunts and got himself killed. I’m not looking forward to my re-introduction into society.” Ashmore shrugged and headed toward the door. “I’d best go, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Gabriel turned toward Diana to find her staring thoughtfully after Ashmore, and his gut knotted. Ashmore was refined, slim and good-looking, the perfect gentleman…everything he was not. Jealousy raged inside him, and he struggled to rein in the impulse to march over and claim her for his own, so she wouldn’t forget she was his.

After this disastrous first introduction to London, Gabriel wanted to please Diana.

His first wife had always adored shopping.

It would give him a chance to prove to Diana that he could provide her with anything and everything she desired.

“Though I hate to admit it, she’s right. You will need to dress according to your new station in life. I’ll give you an hour to settle and unpack, then we’ll go shopping. Mrs. Ketterling, the housekeeper, will see you to your room.” Gabriel hurried toward his study to dash off a quick note to the modiste his first wife had frequented. She had only purchased the best, and he wanted that for Diana. After summoning a runner, he hurried upstairs to select his clothes with care. For the first time, he almost wished for a valet to ensure everything would be perfect, but he couldn’t stand having someone fussing at him, relying on Milles if he needed anything.

He was excited to show Diana a sample of the largesse he could bestow upon her, and his chest swelled at the thought of having her by his side as they travelled through town.

D
ressed according to her station
.

Diana had guessed Gabriel was rich, but she hadn’t realized the extent of his influence and wealth. And after this first disastrous introduction, she wanted to prove to that harpy of a mother-in-law of his that she was wrong.

Diana didn’t give a fig what others thought of her, but she didn’t want to shame Gabriel.

If he wanted to go shopping, she would do as he asked.

“If you’ll follow me.” An older woman cleared her throat, making it clear she was not pleased to be kept waiting. Her brown eyes were like a lump of coal, not offering even a hint of warmth. Diana followed her up the stairs, noting her brown hair was liberally streaked with gray, the strands severely pulled back into a tight bun. Her ample form should have been a welcoming sight, but her lips were pursed so tightly that wrinkles had permanently marked her face. Diana doubted the woman had smiled once in the past thirty years.

Looking down from the balcony, the house was even more exquisite. The hallway was done in hues of brown and gold, and the pattern in the granite-tiled floor was stunning from this height. Mrs. Ketterling cleared her throat again, much more loudly, signaling her loss of patience. The hall branched off in two directions, and Diana followed Mrs. Ketterling to the right some distance before the housekeeper threw open a door.

Diana peeked curiously into the room, not sure what to expect. A small fire was crackling to the right of the door, giving the interior a warm glow. The bed, a four-poster monstrosity, dominated the room. It faced the door, positioned slightly off center to make room for a large bureau. Gauzy, light blue drapes hung from the post at the head of the bed like a medieval bower. The duvet, a darker shade of blue, matched the curtains on the window. Lush, dark russet carpeting lined the room. The walls were papered to match, but in a much lighter shade.

The room wasn’t overstated. Instead it was a surprisingly cozy retreat, but more suitable for a princess than someone used to a small, utilitarian room at the school where she’d lived for most of her life. Her satchel lay at the foot of the bed, her meager belongings placed about the room, all except for the weapons she could see peeking out of her bag. She couldn’t help but wonder what the servants must have thought when most of her belongings ended up being weapons. Her back prickled in warning, her gift not quite waking, and she whirled to face the threat. Only to find the housekeeper’s puckered expression as she waited by the door. “Thank you, but you need not stay.”

“Very well. You will find the bathing room and toilet just down the hall. Ring the bell cord in the corner if you need to summon a maid for anything.” Mrs. Ketterling abruptly whirled in a flurry of skirts and stalked away without another word. Walking to the bed, Diana sat, then fell backwards, flinging out her arms with a sigh. As much as she understood the need to travel to London, she thanked
Bandia
to be alone. For the last few months, she had kept her distance from others, going days, even weeks at a time without speaking to anyone. She felt guilty for thinking it, but the silence was blissful, even with the occasional noise or carriage rattling over the cobblestones.

But she only had an hour.

She needed to explore her surroundings, needed to note the exits and possible entry points. A second door led off to the left. When she opened it, she stopped short.

Gabriel’s room.

The room was tastefully decorated but sparse, clearly a place used only to sleep. Everything was neat, his clothes packed away, nothing personal left out in the open.

It saddened her to think he had no place to retreat for comfort.

After the confrontation this morning, she understood why he had no fond memories of this house.

Gertrude acted like the house was hers, that she deserved it after losing her daughter.

Diana was determined to change that.

When she heard footsteps on the stairs, she whirled and dashed toward her room. Her heart pounded as she quietly shut the door just seconds before Gabriel entered on the other side. She backed away, as if he would fling the connecting door open and accuse her of snooping.

Only then did she become aware of the lock…allowing her to ban her husband from her room if she chose. Her pulse fluttered at the thought of Gabriel entering at any time he wished. Perhaps she should be fearful, but she experienced a thrill of excitement instead.

Gabriel’s loneliness was palpable, and Diana was determined to prove to him that he was no longer alone.

She picked up her satchel to store it in the armoire, but halted.

Old habits died hard.

She took out three weapons, hiding them about the room—one under the bed, one under her pillow, the last tucked under the chair of her dressing table. That only left two in the bag. Diana opened the wardrobe to find her one lonely dress hanging on the hook. She rolled it up and placed it back into the satchel, quickly stashing it under the bed in case she needed to leave in a hurry.

Her room was in the back of the house, overlooking a small garden. There were no trees close enough to climb if she needed to escape or sneak back into her room. She opened the window and peered out, noting there was one more floor above her own. The stones were positioned so if she stretched, she would be able to climb to the next window or even to the roof.

Diana believed Gabriel would do his best to keep his promise and keep her safe, but past experience taught her all too well how easily things could go horribly wrong.

Pastor Williams would not give up so easily, marriage or no marriage.

With great reluctance, Diana removed the weapon from her boot and the other hidden in the wide belt against her lower back. Then with a sigh, she unstrapped the last weapon from around her thigh, but couldn’t force herself to set it next to the other two.

Without her weapons, she felt naked.

A hole opened up in the pit of her stomach, and she paced the room, flipping the blade end over end, catching it. The action calmed her enough to allow her to think clearly, and she froze as an idea formed.

She might not be able to wear her weapons, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still bring one.

Dropping to her knees by the bed, she groped underneath for her satchel, quickly digging to the bottom until she felt the silky material of her string purse. She dropped the blade inside, the pommel barely fitting as she drew the strings close. The purse clunked heavily on the floor, and she quickly tied it to her wrist. Then she pinned her hair up in a sloppy knot.

More confident, Diana walked toward the door, but stopped, stunned to realize that she was nervous about seeing her husband again, then wanted to kick herself for being foolish. She should be more focused on the men hunting her than seeing Gabriel again.

Mistakes like that would get her killed.

She closed the door behind her, frowning when she noticed there was no lock. She managed only a few steps when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

She was being watched.

Heat tingled along her veins as her gift stirred, and the lines along her back itched as her magic woke. Balanced on the balls of her feet, Diana ducked around the corner, trying to trace the source of her unease.

When she turned the second corner, she nearly tripped over Wolf as he slunk along, crawling low to the ground, as if in apology.

Diana straightened, planting her hands on her hips. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You were very naughty.”

Wolf whined in misery and placed his paws over his eyes.

Some of the starch went out of her spine at seeing his familiar face. As if reading her mind, he gave her one of his panting, doggy grins. Diana snorted and ruffled his fur. “What do you say we hunt you up a treat after all your hard work?”

Wolf bolted to his feet, quivering in excitement, and licking his chops in agreement as he ran toward the stairs.

Trusting Wolf’s nose to find the kitchen, Diana followed, flexing her shoulders as her gift reluctantly settled back beneath her skin.

Wolf brushed against her leg as if to hurry her along, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, and she wove her fingers absently in his fur to settle her nerves as they crept through the house. She felt like a thief.

The smell of food guided them to the back of the house. She eased open the swinging door and cautiously peered inside.

No sign of Gabriel.

She expected relief, so why did her stomach splat at her feet in disappointment?

She entered, hoping to sneak a bone without disrupting everyone. Wolf adroitly followed, very experienced at slipping into a room after people to keep from being shut out or left behind. Much to her dismay, they were spotted almost immediately.

Both sides froze, and the servants fell silent one by one.

Diana’s smile faltered under all the attention, and she cleared her throat. “This is Wolf. He will be staying with me. I wanted to beg for a few scraps or maybe a bone.”

The cook, a burly woman, brushed forward, wiping her hands on a large apron tied at her waist. Her smile was genuine, but a little uncertain as her eyes rested on the animal.

Diana patted Wolf on the head, and he promptly sat. “Don’t worry. All you need to do is feed him, and he will be your slave for life.”

“I’m cook.” Her gruff voice belied her youthful appearance and kind face. With shaky fingers, she stuck out her hand. Wolf sniffed delicately and licked her in welcome. “Oh, what a handsome fellow. It will be good to have a mouser in residence.”

The kitchen maids tittered and crowded closer to receive the same treatment. Soon everyone was talking, their friendliness a nice welcome.

Until Mrs. Ketterling opened the door and shrieked. “What is that filthy beast doing in here? Get.” She picked up her skirt and shooed the dog, her imperious voice ringing in the room.

“That will not be necessary.” Diana smiled at the agitated woman. “We’ll be leaving in a moment, we’re just waiting for a treat.”

Mrs. Ketterling’s face drew up, her lips pursed in clear distaste. “I won’t allow it. Not in my kitchen.”

Cook stepped into the fray, delight etched on her face. “
My
kitchen you mean.”

She turned to Diana with a smiled of pure delight. “You both are welcome at any time, Lady Mendenhall. It is nice to have the house full again.”

“Cook!” Ketterling’s sharp tone was like stone on glass. “Get back to work. If I see you dallying around one more time, I’ll send you back to the country where you belong.”

“I’m sure I’ll find Cook’s service delightful. I would hate to see her lose her post.” Diana could actually see the housekeeper’s dislike turn to hatred as her brown eyes narrowed.

Ketterling huffed and stuck her nose in the air. With one last piercing look, she turned and marched off, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Everyone remained silent for a moment, then began to snicker at seeing the clearly unpopular Ketterling routed.

Cook’s eyes twinkled as she clapped her hands. “Back to work, everyone. Let’s impress milady with what we can do.”

As one, they returned to work with smiles on their faces.

Diana followed cook into the pantry when beckoned. The door no more then shut when cook held out a large hambone to Wolf. The beast glanced at her, and Diana nodded permission. He delicately removed the bone from cook’s hands, never once touching her.

“Such fine manners!”

Diana grinned at the woman’s surprise, then saw the Cook’s face turn serious. “Take care to watch yourself around Mrs. Ketterling. She’s not a forgiving woman. You countermanded her orders in front of the servants, and her dignity has been affronted. She won’t forgive you—” Cook crinkled her nose, “—or me for the slight. Without a mistress the last few years, she’s been getting above her station. Mrs. Ashmore has allowed her free rein, as if they owned the house.”

Diana was both touched and concerned. “If she gives you any trouble, promise you’ll come to me. I don’t know how to go about being a proper lady, but I do know never to dismiss the value of a kind gesture.”

Cook studied her face then smiled. “No worries, I know how to handle the likes of her, but I will remember your words. As to the other matter, just be yourself. I think you’ll be surprised at how easy it will be for you to be a lady without trying. Some people are just born to it.”

When she bustled out of the room, Diana stared after cook for a stunned second before following. Giving a jaunty wave to the staff on her way out, she went in search of Gabriel for their appointment, while Wolf carried his bone upstairs to Emilie’s room.

* * *

G
abriel paced
the foyer while he waited for Diana to arrive. He knew she was going to fight him on the amount of clothing she needed. He listened for the rages and tantrums his first wife threw when she didn’t get her way, but the house remained ominously silent, which was almost worse.

The clock chimed the hour.

No sign of Diana.

His gut clenched in disappointment, and he strode outside toward the waiting carriage, hoping to find her inside. He opened the door, and the happy future he envisioned for them crumbled when he found it vacant. The darkness in the carriage mirrored the emptiness rising inside him. He couldn’t go back in the house, refused to let her see how much her rejection hurt, but nor could he force himself to leave, either. It would mean defeat, and he wasn’t sure he could so easily let her go.