Now they
had
to mean something.
Then why marry if you’re just going to make some woman a widow?
He’d ignored the words when she’d said them, but he couldn’t ignore them now. Having a wife changed everything. He couldn’t win races if he had to worry about dying and leaving a widow behind. Just look at what had happened this morning.
A cold chill shook him. How could he support a wife if he didn’t get his inheritance and he couldn’t win races?
Virginia stared up at him with a tremulous smile, and something clutched at his chest. God save him, what if he couldn’t take care of her?
It was too late to consider that now. He’d ruined her. They had to marry.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Marvelous.”
The trust in her eyes made his throat go dry. His anxiety must have shown, for her joy abruptly faded. “But you don’t look so good.”
He forced a smile. “I was just worried that I hurt you too much.”
She relaxed. “You didn’t.”
He buried his fear beneath a joke. “Because we could always do it over, and I could try to improve on it.”
A laugh burst out of her. “If you improved on that any more, I’d perish from the pleasure.”
“Death by pleasure?” he said. “I could arrange that. I
am
the Angel of Death, you know.”
The minute her eyes turned sad, he wanted to kick himself. What an idiotic thing to say.
“What does that make
me
?” she asked, perfectly serious. “Mrs. Angel of Death?”
“Of course not.” He shifted onto his back, staring up at the lush red damask of her tester bed. “It’s just a stupid nickname, one I hope to be rid of soon.”
“How, if you intend to keep racing?”
Clearly he wasn’t the only one considering such matters. “I’ll think of something.”
And he would, too. He wasn’t going to let her worries about him, or any foolish fears he felt right now over the possibility of leaving her a widow, alter his plans for the future.
He changed the subject. “How soon can we be married? Shall I ask the general for your hand when he returns from the fair?”
“Lord, no!” It was her turn to look alarmed. She sat up and dragged the sheet over herself. “If he found you here and had any inkling that we’d been alone in the house together, he’d skewer you on his cavalry sword.”
“You’re not worried about Molly telling him?”
“She’d have to wake up and find you here, and that’s unlikely. Her fever may have broken, but she was sleeping hard. She won’t rouse for a few hours yet. Even if she does, she won’t leave her bed if she doesn’t have to. She’ll take the opportunity to get some rest. Lord knows we don’t get much of it around here these days.”
“Yes, I’ve seen how hard you work. All the more reason we should marry quickly. Then I could move in and start helping—”
“You’re helping already.” She cast him a plaintive look. “And why be in such a hurry to marry? You’ve got a few months yet before your grandmother’s deadline.”
“If you think I’ll wait months, sneaking around to see you, never being able to do more than touch your hand in public, you’re out of your mind.” He sat up to loop his arm about her shoulders. “I want to claim you as my wife. I don’t want to wait.”
She let out a frustrated breath. “Neither do I. But you have to give me the chance to break it to Poppy gently. He’ll claim that you’re only marrying me to gain your fortune.”
“And you’ll tell him that I’m giving it up. For you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It was lovely of you to offer, but I don’t want you doing such a fool thing. The money will enable us to live more freely.” She cast him a quick glance. “And it will help keep you from racing.”
He said nothing. She was right, but only if Celia married, too, and that was by no means certain.
“So I have to convince Poppy that you’re worthy of me, even with the matter of the fortune. Besides, he still has the daft notion that Pierce and I are going to marry.”
The shaft of jealousy that arrowed to his heart took him by surprise. “I suppose Devonmont has the same daft notion.”
She laughed. “My cousin has no illusions on that score, believe me.” Turning her face up to his, she kissed his cheek. “But it’s sweet of you to be jealous.”
“Sweet?” he grumbled. “If he ever kisses you again as he did when he left, the throttling I give him will be anything but sweet.”
“Pierce could use a throttling. He gets away with far too much.” Her eyes gleamed at him. “As do you.”
He shifted to face her. “Which is why you should marry me right away. Before I get into any more trouble.”
“Tempting as that sounds,” she said dryly, “I need some time to prepare Poppy.”
Gabe scowled at her. “How much?”
“A few days, at least.”
“One day.”
“Gabriel!”
“I mean it. When I come here Monday, I’ll be coming with a marriage proposal. And if you don’t say yes, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you off on my trusty steed.”
A laugh sputtered out of her. “I should like to see
that
. Then Poppy really would come after you with his cavalry sword.”
“He’d have to catch me first. And I’m very quick on horseback.”
Her gaze turned sultry. “Except when you’re thinking of
me
. Like today.”
He smiled ruefully. “You don’t forget anything I say, do you?”
“Not when it’s something as sweet as that.”
She leaned up to kiss him and he cupped her head in his hands to lengthen the kiss. Within seconds it grew heated, and to his surprise he found himself hardening again. God, she already had him slavering after her like a blood-crazed stallion. He’d better watch his step, or he’d be as besotted with her as his brothers were with
their
wives.
And that would be a mistake. Unlike his brothers, if he didn’t gain his inheritance, he had no way to live except by racing. So he couldn’t let himself become so drawn in that her worries altered his plans.
But it was difficult to stay aloof when the only woman who’d ever fired his blood
and
his mind was rousing him to madness.
“About that offer to do it over . . .” she whispered with her enchantress’s smile.
“You’re not too sore?” he asked as he filled his hand with her breast.
“Why don’t we find out?”
That was all it took to have him pressing her back down. All right, so he had no self-control when it came to her in his bed. That didn’t mean he was besotted. It merely meant he was the same randy fellow as always. He just happened to prefer satisfying his urges with
her
.
And this time he would drive from her mind the memory of her uncomfortable deflowering. He might not be able to keep her happy anywhere else, but he could certainly do it here, in the bedchamber.
So he devoted all his extensive experience with women to making her crazed by desire. By the time he plunged into her again, he had made sure she was begging him for it, meeting him thrust for thrust, shimmying her perfect little body beneath him exactly as a wife with a taste for passion should. And he forced himself to wait until she was climaxing before he allowed himself the same release.
It was every bit as wonderful as the first time. And even better, since he didn’t have to worry about hurting her.
Afterward, they both fell into a doze, since neither of them had slept much the night before. It seemed like only moments passed before someone was shaking him.
“Gabriel, you have to get out of here!”
The panic in Virginia’s voice roused him fully awake. “What?”
“We slept too long. It’s nearly nightfall. Poppy will be driving up any minute, and if he sees your mount in front—”
“Right.” He forced his sluggish limbs to move, forced himself out of the bed.
She thrust his drawers at him. “You have to get dressed!”
“And here I was planning to ride home naked,” he quipped as he tugged on his drawers.
“This is no time to joke!” she said, urgency in her voice. “Gabriel, please . . .”
“All right, all right!” He hurried into his clothes. “But once we’re married, sweetheart, I’m never going to be rushed out of your arms—or your bed—again.”
That at least made her smile. “I should hope not.”
He drew her to him for a hard, quick kiss, made all the quicker when she shoved him away.
She scowled at him. “If you get murdered by Poppy because you were doing fool things like kissing me, I’ll never forgive you!”
She looked so adorably worried that he kissed her again.
“Gabriel!” she protested.
He winked, not the least perturbed. “Don’t worry about
me,
vixen. I cheat Death. It’s what I do, what I’ve done more times than I can count.”
Her troubled expression deepened. “That only means your luck might run out any day.”
The words sent a chill down his spine that he tried to shrug off. Gran had been saying that for years, and so far it hadn’t happened.
Still, as he dressed and hurried down the stairs, he couldn’t ignore a deep feeling of foreboding. But that didn’t stop him from pausing in the entrance hall to draw Virginia close for a searing kiss.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured as he took one last glance at her reddened mouth and thinly clad form. “I’ll be here Monday, come hell or high water. So you’d best make sure that the general knows it.”
“I will, I promise.” She touched his head where his wound was. “Take care of this, will you? And try not to get yourself hurt in any more races.”
Heartened by the fact that she hadn’t asked him not to race at all, he nodded. Within moments, he was on the road and headed back for Halstead Hall.
He did have one scare about three miles from the farm. A coach was coming up the road ahead of him. Fortunately, he saw it in time to pull off into some trees. Thank God he had, for as it rumbled past, he saw that it was the general’s carriage.
That was a little too close for comfort. If the general had seen him on this road, he would have guessed that Gabe had been to the farmhouse. Much as Gabe wanted to marry Virginia right away, he understood her desire to have her grandfather’s blessing.
Besides, there was no point in antagonizing the old man. They quite possibly would be living in each other’s pockets for a while, at least until Gabe’s inheritance was freed up.
If
it was freed up.
That thought gave way to thoughts of their future and how it should be managed, which preoccupied him all the way back to Halstead Hall. He was so engrossed that he didn’t notice the hue and cry that went up when he neared the stables.
But when Jarret came striding out, face wrought with worry, it brought Gabe up short.
“Where the devil have you been?” Jarret growled as Gabe dismounted.
That put Gabe instantly on alert. “Why?”
“The last thing we heard from one of the grooms, you’d gone out to race Wheaton at Lyons’s property.” Jarret’s voice held an edge. “So when Pinter came with his news—”
“What news?” Gabe asked sharply.
Jarret ignored him. “—I rode over to Lyons’s to fetch you, but he said you’d left hours before, and with a head wound, too. We’ve been scouring the countryside for you, assuming that you’d fallen into a ditch somewhere from loss of blood.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Gabe snapped. “It was a scratch, nothing more.”
Oliver came up just then. “That’s not what Lyons said. I’ve had men riding the route, looking for you.”
“We even checked all the taverns in Ealing,” Jarret added.
“Well, I’m here now,” Gabe snapped. He wasn’t about to tell them where he’d been. “So would someone please tell me what the bloody hell Pinter’s news is?”
“Benny May has been found.”
Gabe gaped at Jarret. “Good. Is Pinter going to talk to him?”
“I’m afraid that’s impossible,” Oliver said. “Benny was found dead.”
Dragging in a harsh breath, Gabe turned to stare blindly at the stables, a million thoughts jumbling together. Once again, someone connected to him had died. And though he knew it had nothing to do with him, it still felt as if it did. “How?” he asked hoarsely.
Jarret and Oliver exchanged glances. Then Jarret softened his tone. “We’re not sure. But there’s some indication it might have been foul play.”
“The constable in Woburn remembered Pinter having asked about Benny a couple of weeks ago,” Oliver explained. “So when the body of a man the right size and with the right hair color turned up in the woods near there, he sent word to Pinter. He’s holding the body until Pinter can be there for the inquest.”
Gabe swung his gaze back to them. “I want to be there, too.”
“We thought you might,” Jarret said. “Oliver can’t leave the estate right now, but you and I can accompany Pinter. He’s at his office giving instructions to his clerk about his other cases. We’re to meet him there as soon as you’re ready to go.”
“I can be ready in minutes.” Gabe strode toward the house.
It was only after he’d reached his bedchamber that it dawned on him. There was no way in hell he could get to Woburn, witness an inquest, since they wouldn’t do it on a Sunday, and get back home by Monday to be at Waverly Farm. It would be Tuesday at the earliest.
Damn it to blazes.
Well, it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t about to miss being at Benny May’s inquest. If it was murder, that might mean that his parents’ deaths really had been more than they seemed. And that he’d lost his chance to learn who the mysterious man in the stables had been.
But he had to get a message to Virginia.
Annabel happened to come down the hall at that moment, and an idea occurred to him.
“Annabel, would you do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
“Here’s what I need . . .”
Chapter Seventeen
“H
ow was church?” Poppy asked Virginia when she came into the dining room. He’d clearly been reading the paper as he awaited her return, but now that she was home, he motioned to the footman to serve dinner.
She sat down and removed her gloves. “Church was fine.”
Poppy never went to services. He hadn’t gone since Roger’s death, having apparently blamed God for that. She understood his feelings, but she wasn’t brave enough to stay home herself. People talked about them and their troubles with the farm enough already; no point in having the whole town consider them godless heathens, too.