Page 12 of The Writer and the Rogue (Debutantes of London #2)

Gabriel knew the Devereux family was attending Lady Weatherford’s ball, but he hadn’t seen Caroline yet.

He’d been bloody impatient to find her, having thought of little else but her these past two days. His eagerness to see her felt almost dizzying.

Whispers followed him wherever he went, particularly when he asked if anyone had seen Miss Devereux. If he wanted to disentangle himself from the girl somehow, he wasn’t doing a good job of making the ton think he wasn’t keen.

Gabriel searched every inch of the ballroom and inspected every refreshment table in the adjoining chambers, but Caroline remained evasive. Finally, he stumbled upon that brother of hers, Edmund, in conversation with Lady Sybil Forsythe.

“Mr. Devereux. Where is your sister keeping herself?” he asked.

“Lord Rockford!” The young man made a hasty bow, and Lady Sybil a demure curtsy. Gabriel noticed the young lady scarcely had eyes for him; Edmund Devereux commanded her full, glowing attention. “Caro said she was going to find some punch. Come to think of it, that was a half hour ago.” He sounded puzzled, though when he turned to Lady Sybil, he seemed more enraptured. “Do you know where she’s got to, my lady?”

“No, sir. I’m quite certain I don’t.” Lady Sybil gave a soft, winsome sigh as she gazed deep into Edmund’s eyes. The fellow looked as if he’d melt on the spot. “If I know Caro, she’s probably avoiding dancing at all costs. She’ll have excused herself to the library, I’m sure.”

“Thank you for the help,” Gabriel said. “I’ll leave you now. You seem to be having a fine conversation without any interference from me.”

“Mmm,” Edmund said, still gazing upon Lady Sybil’s face.

“Yes, quite.” The young lady fluttered her fan.

They continued regarding one another with worshipful silence while Gabriel got the hell out of there.

The library was a brilliant option, one he should have considered himself. He was just passing out of the ballroom when he saw a flash of golden hair and caught the fleeting sound of a muttered curse.

A blond with a salty mouth? Just the vixen he wanted.

“I trust you’re not attempting to avoid me, Miss Devereux,” Gabriel said as he caught up with the girl.

The sight of her heated his blood. She was dressed in a gown of cream satin, a color which made her complexion appear even rosier than usual.

Caroline wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. In fact, she seemed a bit stiff.

What the devil’s the matter?

A horrifying thought suggested itself: was she angry with him for taking liberties in the Wolf’s Den that night? Had he misread her entirely, made her do what she did not want?

“Miss Devereux. Is everything all right?”

“I’m not avoiding you, my lord.” She seemed listless tonight, stiff and subdued and the opposite of her normal, fiery self. “Indeed, I suppose you should be my sole occupation this evening.”

“How romantic you make it sound,” Gabriel drawled.

“Is romance required, then? I thought you wished to avoid that subject with me at all cost.” She didn’t bristle, though. She seemed almost depressed, something he’d never known before. Gabriel felt his concern deepen.

“I believe there’s a waltz next,” he said. “I remember at Vauxhall you didn’t mind the idea of dancing it.”

“No. It’s one of the few dances I can perform to everyone’s satisfaction.” She still sounded dead. Gabriel took her gloved hand.

“Then might I claim you for it?”

“Claim me, my lord? Yes, I suppose that would be best for everyone.”

The devil was wrong? The girl who’d threatened to strike him with her slipper couldn’t be the same subdued creature now standing before him.

“If this is about what happened between us,” he began, keeping his voice low.

“This has nothing to do with that, my lord. I assure you.”

Mystified, Gabriel led her to the floor as the musicians called the waltz.

“This one should be easy,” he said, still attempting to get a reaction from her. “You must only let me lead.”

“Yes, my lord. Lead away.”

The girl sounded like she was on the verge of crying now. As they began the waltz, Gabriel frowned. She was heavy in his arms. Caroline knew the steps but went about them in the most leaden way possible.

“You’re more docile tonight than I’ve ever seen you,” he said.

“You don’t approve?” She looked at his face but didn’t appear to see him. She looked so tired. “Tell me what I must do to gain your approval, then.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes.

“Is this a gesture of annoyance?” A thought occurred. “Are you angry that I never wrote? It’s only been two days.”

“I assure you, my lord, I’m not hurt in the slightest.”

“Oh, bollocks. I think you’re angry with me.” He held her ever closer, felt Caroline stir against him once. That stirring made him stir in turn. He wanted passion out of her again.

She was despondent because she thought he didn’t care for her; it was obvious.

First, he needed to fan the flames of her anger once more. He wanted her roused and ready for a fight, that perfect mouth of hers screwed up in indignation.

Then he wanted to devour that mouth until she was breathless with longing.

“Why should I be angry with you?”

“You’re peeved because you think I’ve dismissed you by your lack of experience. Or perhaps you’re angry at my lack of romanticism. Perhaps you expected me to show up on your doorstep, a bouquet in one hand, a book of sonnets in the other? All women want a little romance, after all.”

Gabriel had roused her fire as intended. Unfortunately, he had dumped a whole crate of fireworks into the flames, and they went off in his face to scalding and disastrous results.

Caroline broke from him in the middle of the dance, standing there with tears glinting in her eyes. A young couple narrowly missed crashing into her, and the pair of unfortunates collapsed to the side of the floor, drawing murmurs and attention to the drama unfolding.

“Of course. As a woman, what could possibly interest me other than romance?” She was very nearly on the verge of weeping, and her cheeks flushed with her passion. “I should know better than to attempt anything else!”

Caroline stormed off the dance floor and rushed away through the crowd. Whispers and scornful looks followed after her, and Gabriel not-so-subtly shoved men aside to follow her. The woman was incorrigible.

“Wait. Caroline!” he snapped as she stepped onto the terrace and then down a flight of winding stone steps to the garden. Damn everything. If she didn’t want to play with her reputation, she was making it bloody difficult. He followed, glad no one was around to see this little scene. “Stop running.”

“Indeed, why should I ever run from you? You’re the one person I should be running toward, grateful to have found my only purpose in life!” She was crying now and sounded furious about it. She squawked when she tripped over a stone on the pathway and half tumbled into a hedgerow.

Cursing violently, Gabriel went in after her and pulled the young miss to her feet. Caroline swiped at her gown, removing bits of stick and bramble from her hair and clothes.

“It was a joke,” Gabriel said. “About the sonnets and romance and such. I didn’t think you’d lose your bloody senses in the middle of a dance! I thought you’d some restraint at least.”

“Forgive me, my lord. I am only a poor, weak female held in helpless sway by her instincts!” She was almost shouting at him now, her coloring brilliant with her passion.

“You say that as though it’s ironic, but that’s exactly how you’re behaving!” Gabriel snarled as he heard murmuring voices coming along the path. Caroline’s reputation could ill afford being discovered in a hedge with him, especially after the debacle on the dance floor.

He pulled her deeper into the foliage, and she had the good sense to remain silent until the partygoers had passed. During that time, she’d also begun to calm herself. “If you want me to apologize for teasing you, I shall. But what’s happened? One moment you’re almost lifeless, the next you’re fuming and stomping through the brush. It can be exhausting keeping up with you!”

“My publisher rejected my manuscript.” She stared at their feet as she spoke, refusing to meet his eyes. “I poured everything I had or was into it, and they told me it wouldn’t do without a proper love story. So that’s it.” Tears rolled along her cheeks. Caroline hid her face in her hand. “Everything I have or am is bloody useless without a romance.”

“Wait. Your publisher?” Gabriel was now utterly confused. “I thought you wrote for the fun of it.”

“Oh, I’ve been published a dozen times over by now! Perhaps more!” Her passion was back, along with her irritation. He was strangely relieved to see them. “I write Gothic pamphlets under the name C.D. Winthrop. They’re all to do with haunted houses, decrepit crypts, family secrets, and the occasional vampire. They’ve barely kept creditors from our door, but they’ve done well enough over the last two years. I wrote a proper novel and submitted it to the publisher, but they don’t want it without a love story! So there! Now you know all my shocking, sordid truths!”

Gabriel was speechless for a moment. He’d thought he had the young lady figured by this point, but yet again she’d managed to befuddle him. Gathering his wits, he spoke.

“You’ve been trying to keep your family afloat through writing, then? I mean to say, writing that letter to me was not the first thing you tried.”

“I had to keep failing at one thing after another before I finally dared to do anything like that.” She sniffed, hiding her teary eyes with her hand. “I would never have tried something like this first. I’ve become desperate.”

This was the opposite of a spoiled, ignorant girl. This woman was desperate for help, and the men in her family had let her shoulder the burden for so long by herself.

Gabriel felt the most painful tenderness for her right in the center of his breast. He knew from experience how it felt to be abandoned, to live in a well-appointed house with servants to attend you, but to be utterly alone as well. Gabriel had found his escape, forsaking any duty he had at home, but Caroline could not and would not do that. She was stronger than anyone he’d ever met, and braver, too.

“You’ll find another publisher,” he said. “Someone will take the chance.”

“That’s not the point.” She was growing cross with him again, and all while Gabriel was trying to make her feel better.

“Then what is the point? Do you want to swear revenge on these men? If you write tales of intrigue and terror, I get the feeling you’re rather good at that sort of thing.”

She stopped stewing in self-pity a moment and gazed at him hesitantly. “Indeed? You think so?”

“What I think doesn’t matter,” he growled. “You’ve come this far fending off the world’s indifference, haven’t you? Why now are you standing around weeping and stamping your feet?”

“Because I’m bloody tired!” Caroline shouted, then winced. They waited until they were certain no one was coming to find them before she continued in a softer voice. “I am so tired of being punished every day of my life for not being what you all expect me to be. It’s bad enough for women who do play by all these hideous rules, and for me it’s even worse!”

“What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean it’s ‘bad enough’ for other women?”

Caroline shut her eyes and giggled a bit. Actually giggled. He wanted to make her feel better but he didn’t want to do so at the expense of his pride. He wanted to be stalwart for her, not a distraction.

“I don’t appreciate being laughed at,” Gabriel muttered.

“I’m laughing at the situation, not you.” She shook her head. “You truly have no idea, do you?”

He frowned. “Of what?”

“Women in our world are raised with one and only one goal: to marry. That’s it. We’re told from the moment we’re born that without marriage, without a husband, our lives are worthless. We spend years of our lives learning how best to please men: how to dance, sing, flirt, make conversation to flatter you. Finally, we’re sent out into the world to find our matches.” Caroline spoke calmly now, completely rational. “Tell me. If you had bred one half of your society to see marriage as the only valuable path, wouldn’t you insist that the other half be serious about marriage as well? Wouldn’t it be considered imperative that all single men attach themselves in order to give these women’s lives an ounce of meaning and purpose?”

“I suppose.” He still didn’t see where she was going with this.

“But men aren’t cajoled into marriage! Especially not men of our station.” Caroline began to grow animated again, anger spurring her on. “You’re allowed to travel the world, to move to the colonies, to fight in Spain and France. You’re allowed to take mistresses and forego marriage entirely, to fritter your life away frequenting brothels. If you choose not to marry until you’re bloody six-and-fifty, you’re allowed! And then, of course, you insist on being given only the most desirable twenty-year-old girl as your bride. And all the women who could not marry because a suitable man never presented himself, they sit at home as spinsters and bow their heads and ask themselves over and over what they did that was so very wrong. They berate themselves, wondering why they couldn’t do the one bloody thing that was expected of them! And no one ever, ever thinks to blame the men who thought it so easy to walk away! No one blames you when you don’t do your duty. We take the blame for you. Women are given only one option in life, and not an ounce of pity from any of you!”

Caroline’s chest rose and fell with her breathing. The animating spirit had wiped away her tears and left her fueled by anger. Gabriel couldn’t think what to say for the moment…because damn it, she was right.

In his years of traveling the world, brawling and drinking, enjoying casual female company, it had never occurred to him he might have a duty back home.

Even when he returned to England, he hadn’t taken up a real profession or attended society functions. After all, as second son he didn’t need to worry about continuing the line.

He’d thought only of his own comfort and happiness, but his absence had meant there was one less available partner at a dance. One less man upon whom some poor debutante might pin her hopes.

It had never even occurred to him to think of an obligation to the women of the ton . Caroline had seen it, though. She’d sat in miserable silence, twisted up inside by anger at the perpetual injustice of it all.

And she hadn’t sat down and wept, bemoaning her fate and doing nothing about it.

She’d taken action, worked and worked for something resembling her own life. She’d been let down by her father, by her elder brother, by every man who was supposed to look out for her and had failed in his duty, and yet Caroline didn’t demand an apology.

She had to feel so bloody trapped.

No wonder she’d been angry. No wonder she’d risked so much to become his countess.

“I want to tell you something about yourself,” Gabriel said.

“What?” She blinked away tears and regarded him with caution. “Um. Very well.”

Perhaps, he thought, Caroline expected him to let her down as countless men had done before.

He drew nearer to her, letting her feel the physical protection of his body. He sheltered her from prying eyes, from anyone that might seek to harm her.

Gabriel had never wanted to safeguard anyone so badly in his life. The thought of all that this woman had suffered and endured made him half mad to consider.

“I think you are quite brilliant,” he said at last.

“You don’t have to humor me.” She grew cross at once, insolent minx.

“I humor no one. I only say what I think, and I think you’re brilliant.” He laid one hand upon the small of her back, drawing her nearer to himself.

Caroline placed a hand upon his chest, over his beating heart. He could feel how she unwound in the shelter of his embrace, how deeply she had needed someone to hold her and stand as a bulwark against the world on her behalf.

She needed him; it was the most delicious prospect of his life.

“You’re bombastic, to be sure. There’s a great deal of wildness in you. But you also have the most incredible assurance of your own worth as yourself. Even when you tried to entrap me, you did it to help your family, not to give yourself meaning. You already have meaning. You’re creative, passionate, and thrilling. You are complete. Just as you are,” he growled.

He loved how she quivered against him, how he could rouse the softer, more feminine desires that existed in her heart. Caroline sighed in contentment as he cupped her cheek in his rough hand.

He thought of how being kissed regularly, touched and caressed regularly could help Caroline unlock the true nature of physical ardor. He was eager to instruct her there.

“I may not be the world’s best man, but I know when something is good and true. You’re brilliant, Caroline. Never doubt yourself.”

He felt one tear wet his palm as she looked up at him with those wide, hopeful gray eyes. Had no one said this to her? No man, that is.

Gabriel couldn’t imagine how strong she needed to be to push on when the world was set against her, to follow her own destiny and her own opinion when men said no to her again and again.

Gabriel wanted nothing less than the truest, most genuine core of her. He would die without it, without her.

“Will you kiss me?” She rose to meet his mouth, yearning evident in her body and voice.

“Yes,” he whispered, and claimed her mouth.

They had kissed before, but even after the passion of their stolen moment on the settee, this was something different. Something primal. It wasn’t the mere sensation of her lips or her body pressed firmly in his arms. He felt as though they were becoming one, as if he could no longer tell where he ended and she began.

The sweetness of her mouth drove him mad, as did the silken caress of her arms.

His cock throbbed, strained against the front of his trousers. He knew the hot, wet silk of her sex, and longed to lift up her skirts and join with her in the most intimate act possible between two human beings.

He wanted to watch her keen and whimper as he rode her to ecstasy, not just because he wanted her in a base and animal way, but because he wanted to see her revel in being wanted.

This woman ought to know pleasure, to be loved for who and what she was.

As they kissed, Gabriel thought of waking alongside her every morning, letting her know with every caress how badly she was wanted.

She moaned, pressing herself as close to him as possible.

Gabriel was surprised when she began to fall to the earth, taking him with her. Soon, they were laid out upon the ground, beneath a tree and a bloody hedge, and Caroline looked at him with a passion that was libidinous to the extreme.

She placed his hand upon her thigh, urged him to yank up her silken skirt.

“You can have me. All of me,” she breathed, every inch of Gabriel’s fantasy come to life. He kissed her, tongues meeting and clashing, and reached down to find the edge of her gown. It would be so easy to take himself out and have her, enjoy her again and again. “I want it.”

“Caroline,” he said, moaning softly as she reached down and fumbled at his trousers. She gasped in astonishment at the feel of the prominent bulge; at this point, Gabriel was hard as iron, and so ready to have this creature, this vixen. “Do you want it? Truly?”

“I want to feel anything else.” Those tears continued to fall even as she kissed him. “I can’t stand it any longer. I don’t want to be me anymore.”

She wanted him, that was obvious with the way she attempted to unbutton his trousers. And Gabriel wanted it, God, he wanted it so.

But Caroline didn’t want it because he’d filled her with desire or happiness; she wanted it because she needed an escape. She was desperate right now, hurting and hoping that he could drive away the pain.

That wasn’t a good enough reason to deflower her in the dirt, rutting away while good society waited to find them and ridicule them. Ridicule Caroline, that is, ridicule and insult her. Even though Gabriel wanted this woman more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone in his life, he knew that he had to do right by her.

“No, my dear,” he whispered, kissing her and taking her hand away from his painfully hard manhood. “I want this more than anything, but I want you to feel the same.”

“I do,” she panted. But already, Gabriel could see her coming down from her frantic peak of desire. Caroline blushed now, a maidenly expression.

After all, she was pinned beneath a rake in the middle of a garden. It didn’t make for the most dignified romantic setting.

“There’s time for everything you desire,” he murmured, “but there will be better places. You should want this because you burn for it, not because you need an escape. If I took you like this, you’d come to hate me for it.”

“I could never hate you.” Her eyes widened as the words fled her mouth, and Gabriel couldn’t resist feeling a bit smug.

He helped her up, as they kept watch for prying eyes while Caroline fixed her gown.

“Shall we?” she asked.

“You go ahead.” Gabriel was far too aroused to go marching around in public just now. “I won’t be far behind.”

After Caroline had left him, Gabriel tried to make sense of all that had happened in the past ten minutes.

They had fought, but that fighting had led to admissions of startling honesty. First Caroline had told him all about her thwarted hopes and hidden anguishes, and then Gabriel had realized something. Something so beautiful and potentially so painful that it almost frightened him.

He was falling in love with the girl.