Did that mean Gabriel had been questioned publicly about how the race had come about? And wouldn’t Poppy have heard that testimony? Because then he would know who’d laid down the challenge, yet he’d acted as if he didn’t. But no one else had ever claimed to have heard the truth, either.
Gabriel went on, clearly eager to leave the subject behind. “This inquest was a different matter entirely. Benny was found after being outdoors in the weather for a while.”
She shuddered. She could imagine how awful that must have been. “Was he a friend?”
“You might say that. He was head groom here at Halstead Hall until shortly after my parents died.”
In a few terse words, he explained that over the past few months he and his siblings had been investigating their parents’ deaths. They hadn’t told anyone because they wanted to be sure of the truth first. That was why he hadn’t allowed Annabel to reveal to her grandfather the reason for his sudden trip.
He told Virginia of their attempts to question the family’s head groom and how that had led to their being informed of the man’s possible murder.
“I’ve never witnessed Death quite like that. After being left in the woods for a couple of weeks, Benny’s body was . . . was . . .”
“Unspeakable?” she finished softly.
He nodded. “I hadn’t seen him in nineteen years. After our parents died, Gran took us into town to live and Oliver kept the estate closed up, so most of the staff was let go. But I wouldn’t have known him even if I’d seen him every day. His face . . .” A ragged breath escaped him. “It wasn’t easy to look at. We were only able to identify him by a ring he’d worn when Pinter had questioned him.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“I’m not. It finally impressed upon me that I don’t want to die.” He leveled a bleak gaze on her. “I don’t want to end up broken and bleeding in some field somewhere. I don’t want to be left in the ground to rot before my time.
“But I don’t know how to stop it from happening. If Celia doesn’t marry, then racing is all I have. And if I let fear of death make me cautious, I can’t win.”
The fact that he shared his fears touched her. “Surely you can make money some other way than by racing. You could bring Flying Jane to Waverly Farm. If Poppy or one of your brothers could be persuaded to lend you the entrance fee for that first race—”
He snorted. “Your grandfather isn’t going to give me money, and you know it. And my brothers don’t have lots to spare for a risky investment. I wouldn’t feel right asking them.”
“But it would be just this once. And if you won a race with her, they’d get their money back with interest.”
With a rueful smile, he reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “As you said last week, that’s a lot of ifs.”
“But it’s something. In the meantime, you could help Poppy race his horses and run the stud farm.”
“So that Pierce can inherit it all when your grandfather dies? Where will that leave us?”
She swallowed. “At least it won’t leave you dead. Besides, why are you so sure that Celia won’t marry?”
“You did
meet
my sister, didn’t you?” he said dryly.
“She’s very pretty.” “It’s not her looks I’m worried about. It’s her strong disinclination to marry.”
“She seemed very eager to champion you.” She cupped his cheek. “I’m sure she’ll do the right thing when the time comes. Don’t borrow trouble, Gabriel. It will all work out.”
“Ever the sunny optimist, aren’t you?” He pressed her hand to his lips. “You’re assuming that your grandfather will even let me within a mile of your place. He already said he wants to shoot me. Are you willing to elope?” he asked, a hopeful note in his voice. “We could leave tonight.”
“I’d prefer that you settle your differences with him beforehand.”
He pulled away from her, then went to pick his coat up off the floor. “How the blazes am I to do that?”
“He needs to know the truth about the night when you and Roger made the wager. And he needs to hear it from you.”
His jaw went taut. “You mean
you
need to hear it from me,” he snapped. “You won’t let it alone.”
“That’s not true,” she said steadily. “I know in my heart that you’re a good man. But Poppy needs to be sure you’re a man of good character. He has to feel you’re worthy of me, and that means knowing the truth. Otherwise he’ll never—”
The door to the stable swung open. “Good God, Gabe. Are you ever going to come—” Lord Jarret stopped short, glancing from Virginia to Gabriel. “Sorry, old chap. I assumed you were still coddling your Thoroughbred.” His gaze shot to the coat in Gabriel’s hand. “I . . . um . . . didn’t mean to interrupt. Annabel said she needed to talk to you, and I guess that’s probably moot now. I’ll just leave you two to . . . whatever you were doing.”
“No need.” Gabriel donned his coat. “Virginia and I were merely discussing our elopement. It seems her grandfather is opposed to the marriage and is out for my blood, so we’re going to eliminate that problem by hastening to Gretna Green.”
“Gabriel.” He was running from everything, from the truth, from the past. He had to stop. “You know perfectly well that I didn’t agree—”
“If you’re planning on an elopement,” Lord Jarret said, “you’d best come inside. Gran needs to hear this.”
Looping an arm about Virginia’s waist, Gabriel led her toward the door.
“Listen to me—” she began.
“How long do you think it will take us?” Gabriel asked his brother, pointedly ignoring her. They proceeded to discuss the logistics of the elopement as the three of them crossed the courtyard.
Perish the man. Why wouldn’t he listen?
They’d entered the house and were headed for the drawing room, when they were accosted in the hall by his grandmother.
“What the devil is taking you so— Oh.” Mrs. Plumtree spotted Virginia and smiled. “Good evening, Miss Waverly. Annabel said that your grandfather threatened to shoot my grandson if he went to Waverly Farm to propose marriage tomorrow. Are you here to warn Gabe?”
“Actually—”
“We’re eloping, Gran,” Gabriel broke in. “I know what you said about no elopements, but—”
“No, no, my boy, you go on and elope,” Mrs. Plumtree said cheerily. “Just make sure it’s legal. Make them give you something written—none of that haveycavey Scottish nonsense about your word being good enough.”
“Of course,” Gabriel said.
“But I don’t want—” Virginia began. “What can I do to help?” Mrs. Plumtree went on. “If the general is anything like me, he’ll be up in a few hours, and you’ll want to be well under way before he discovers that Miss Waverly has gone. He’ll probably come here first, and we’ll stall him, which will gain you some time.”
Virginia was growing annoyed. “I really don’t think—”
Lord Jarret said, “The phaeton won’t be as comfortable for traveling, but it’ll be quicker. You can take my coach, but the coachman hasn’t had a chance to rest from our journey. Then again, neither have you.”
“Stop it, all of you!” Virginia cried. “I don’t
want
to elope!”
Muttering a low oath, Gabriel tightened his arm about her waist like a manacle.
“You don’t want to marry my grandson?” Mrs. Plumtree asked, casting a pointed glance at Gabriel’s intimate grip on her.
Virginia colored. “Of course I want to marry him. But I want to do it right. I want Poppy’s permission.”
Mrs. Plumtree clucked her tongue. “Given what your grandfather told me the night of our dinner, he’s unlikely to give it. His exact words were, ‘One way or the other, I’ll make sure that she
never
marries your scoundrel of a grandson.’ And if he’s talking about shooting Gabe, it doesn’t sound as if he’s changed his mind.”
“You’re damned right I haven’t changed my mind!” cried yet another voice from the doorway.
Sweet Lord. Poppy, with a footman trailing him.
“I’m sorry, madam,” the footman said, “but General Waverly refused to wait in the—”
“It’s all right, John,” Mrs. Plumtree said.
Virginia eyed her grandfather with concern. He looked harried and tired, his hair sticking up everywhere. “What are you doing here, Poppy?”
He strode up to her with a scowl. “After our discussion, I couldn’t sleep. I went to your room, thinking I’d talk to you again about it, but you were gone.” He shot Gabriel a murderous glance. “How did you convince my granddaughter to do something so blasted idiotic as to ride over here in the middle of the night? Anything could have happened to her. She could have been accosted on the road or lost her way in the dark—”
“He had nothing to do with it,” Virginia cut in. “I came here because you were talking about shooting him in the morning.”
“She came to warn him,” Mrs. Plumtree pointed out, a gleam in her eyes. “You can’t blame her for that. It speaks well of the girl.”
Poppy turned his glower on Mrs. Plumtree. “The only thing it speaks well of, woman, is your machinations. And I don’t blame Virginia. I blame you and your blasted family, and their interference in matters that aren’t their concern.” He turned to scowl at Lord Jarret. “Next time you send your wife to my house passing messages behind my back, sir, you’d better be prepared for trouble.”
“I did not send my wife to your house,” Lord Jarret protested.
“That was my doing.” Gabriel tugged Virginia closer. “I wanted Virginia to know I’d be back to marry her as soon as possible.”
“She’s Miss Waverly to you, boy. And you’ll marry her over my dead body.” Poppy held out his arm. “Come, Virginia, we’re going home.”
Virginia gazed up at Gabriel and said softly, “Tell him. Tell him now.”
He stiffened, then scowled at her. “This is not the time.” “There’s no better time. You said on that night we waltzed that you wanted to make amends to my family. Well, this is your chance. He needs to hear it.”
She could see him withdrawing, see him pulling into himself like a turtle into its protective shell, but she persisted anyway. “Make him understand.”
“I won’t discuss this
here
, damn it!”
“Discuss what?” Mrs. Plumtree asked.
“Then I’m going home with him.” Tearing herself from his grip, she moved a few feet away. She had to force Gabriel’s hand. “You have to choose. Tell him the truth or watch me leave.”
She didn’t know if she could hold to that, but she had to try. His refusal to face the past would only poison their love, and an elopement wouldn’t solve anything.
Something flickered deep in his eyes. Anger. And regret. “Don’t ask me to do this.”
Why must he be so stubborn? Without a word, she turned and walked toward her grandfather.
“Damn it, Virginia, ask me to do anything but that!”
The pain in his words made her heart twist in her chest, but she kept walking.
“I
can’t
tell you the truth,” he ground out.
“You mean you won’t.” “I
can’t.
Because I don’t know what it is.”
That halted her. Not sure she’d heard him right, she faced him. “What do you mean?”
Though the others didn’t know what she was talking about, they seemed to hold their breaths, as did she, waiting for his answer.
He spiked his hand through his hair, then let out a foul curse. “I don’t actually know what happened that night. I was so drunk that I have no memory of it.” His breathing sounded harsh in the sudden stillness. “People have always assumed I didn’t speak of it either to hide my culpability or to protect Roger’s memory. But the truth is, I don’t
know
which of us laid down the challenge. I never have.”
Her mind whirled. “How can that be?”
He let out a harsh laugh. “Have you no idea how Roger and I were back then? We spent our evenings with our heads in tankards of ale.”
“Many a young man does, Gabe,” Lord Jarret offered.
Gabriel scowled at his brother. “So much that he utterly forgets if he caused his best friend’s death?” He shot her a hard glance. “You said your grandfather needed to know if I was a man of good character. I can’t tell him.”
His voice grew choked. “All I remember is Roger quarreling with Lyons. The duke left, and Roger and I drank ourselves into oblivion. I don’t remember leaving the tavern, I don’t remember the ride home, and I bloody well don’t remember making that bloody wager!”
He paced in agitation. “There’s nothing in my memory between the time we began drinking heavily and the time I awoke midmorning to find Roger standing at the foot of my bed saying, ‘Well, old chap, are we doing this or not?’ ”
“You didn’t even ask him what he was talking about?” she whispered.
“Of course, I asked him!” He whirled on her, his voice so full of anger that she backed away out of reflex.
He noticed and went pale. When he continued, it was in a carefully controlled voice that was more chilling than his anger. “He said, ‘You know, the race.’ Then he got that smug look on his face that he always got when he’d bested me and said, ‘You don’t remember our wager.’
“And would I admit it? Oh, no, I would never admit to Roger that I couldn’t hold my liquor. That I didn’t know what the bloody hell he was talking about. That would make me appear a fool.”
Her heart broke to see his pain.
He glanced away from her. “It was enough for me to know that we’d agreed to a bet. Because every gentleman knows that if you make a wager, in your cups or not, you stick to it.”
Reminded of what Poppy had said, she gave him a furtive glance, but he was held rapt by Gabriel’s story. “So you just went with him like some young fool?” her grandfather asked.
“Exactly like some young fool. He said, ‘Well, let’s get on with it. I’m going to win this time, Sharpe,’ and I dragged myself out of bed and went out to saddle my horse. I didn’t care where the race was or what it involved. I just cared about beating him.” His voice was bitter.
“Because he always had to beat you,” Lord Jarret said softly.
It was true, she remembered. Their rivalry had not been one-sided. Roger would come home claiming that Gabriel had somehow bewitched his horses, or Gabriel had won a card game because he had the devil’s own luck.
And she’d said those very words to Gabriel at the race they’d run. She winced.