Guarding a Notorious Lady Read online

  “He is to be your guardian,” Gabriel replied in his usual impervious manner. “Unseen and unheard. There will be no contact, unless of course a predicament occurs.”

  “I’ve managed to survive this long on my own.”

  “That was before the damnable wager,” he nearly shouted.

  Grabbing the folded copy of the Morning Post from his desk, he tossed it in her direction, where it flopped open of its own accord to the very page that had managed to send him into a near rage this morning.

  Rosalind turned away from the article. She had no wish to read it again. “The feeble minds of men,” she muttered with distaste.

  Gabriel shook his head, his smile grim. “To think before this came about, I worried about your meddling—or matchmaking as you call it—getting you into trouble. And now this monstrosity rears its head.”

  She rose to her feet, refusing to sit meekly any longer. “Am I not only to be pitied for my unmarried state but considered utterly helpless as well?”

  “See here, Rosie. You make it sound as if I think of you as a child.”

  “Is it not obvious that you do?” Crossing her arms over her chest, she strode to the window overlooking the bustling street. The rumbling carriage wheels and clomping horse hooves were muffled behind the glass.

  Soon, a steady stream of carriages would be arriving, spilling scores of guests upon their doorstep. This evening’s fête marked the unofficial opening of the season and her new sister-in-law’s introduction as a duchess. It also boasted to include a newly titled and highly available bachelor, the Marquess of Winterbourne, to be exact. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she’d heard it before. Rosalind expected it to be quite the crush.

  She ought to have been thrumming with barely contained excitement. But the news of her hired protector, coupled with the chance encounter with Nicholas in the bookshop, had tied her thoughts into knots.

  Two more carriages passed by, and Rosalind wondered fleetingly if Nicholas was ensconced inside any one of them.

  During the last two years, his presence at Wolverest had been rather scarce. According to Gabriel, Nicholas was simply busy managing his lands, overseeing the yield of livestock and timber. And it was undoubtedly true. Nicholas was known throughout the countryside for not hesitating to toss his coat aside, roll up his shirtsleeves, and assist in the repair of buildings, birthing of sheep, and digging of drains. His tenants revered him.

  Rosalind only wished Castle Wolverest had been in need of a drain to be dug. Perhaps several.

  And now this man of the country was in London?

  She hadn’t had the opportunity to inquire. She’d only returned home to have her brother inform her that he’d hired a guardian for her.

  Rosalind appreciated her brother’s protection over the years and often felt she knew the value of a doting father, as she had very little memory of their own. However, this was a matter of pride.

  “I am four and twenty . . . soon to be five and twenty. If it wasn’t for my station and wealth, I’d be considered on the shelf. I am not a little girl anymore. This is absurd, Gabriel.”

  “It is all perfectly logical, given the circumstances.” His slow inhale told her that the threads of his patience were beginning to unwind. “And I do not, of all people, pity your unmarried state,” Gabriel pointed out, his deep voice resonating within the room. “A woman of your distinction, superior connections, pristine reputation, and wealth need not be ashamed of being unmarried. You are, at all times, perfectly respectable. In fact,” he continued wryly, “I should be completely happy should you never decide to take a husband. In such a case, I needn’t entertain the fear of accidentally throttling the idiot should he ever make you frown.”

  “You are ridiculous, Gabriel,” Rosalind muttered with a smile.

  Though truthfully, other than this singular instance, she couldn’t blame him for being overprotective. The wager notwithstanding, the very second Gabriel and his new bride left Devine Mansion for their much-anticipated wedding trip, the floodgates would open indeed.

  A flood of men. Men by the dozens. Men who would otherwise stay far away from the Devines’ doorstep should Gabriel be in residence. His intimidating presence kept them at bay. Even now, as angry as she was at her brother, she was grateful for his diligence when it came to keeping men of questionable character and motives away.

  Men acted like simpletons, or, worse, devious fortune hunters in her presence. All the attention was rather embarrassing and unwanted.

  It was for these reasons that every single gentleman’s intentions were always held suspect. And Rosalind, not at all the rebellious sort, was in perfect agreement. Until now.

  Secretly, she had been anticipating Gabriel’s departure as soon as he had announced his plans in the country. She was old enough and wise enough to juggle the foreseeable deluge of hopeful men ready to break down the door and test their wiles on her.

  Besides, none of them would ever win her—she had already given her heart away.

  But what she did not want, simply could not bear, was some strange man following her in and about Town, gauging her every move. And for heaven’s sake, she’d have a chaperone with her at all times. Was he really needed?

  “Well,” Gabriel offered, “there is another solution.”

  “And that is?”

  “You could simply return to the country until I return.”

  “That will not do.”

  “You’ll not be running and hiding,” he replied, reading her thoughts. “It’s prudent.”

  “I intend to enjoy the season as much as I have any other.”

  “Then you shall have an appointed guard. It is done.”

  This was preposterous and she would have none of it.

  “And what of Tristan?” she suggested, turning to face him fully now. “Why cannot our brother do the job?”

  Gabriel merely raised a brow. “Tristan? You cannot be serious.”

  She lifted one shoulder. “Whyever not? He’ll be two and twenty this summer. He knows the ways of wicked men, well, because he is one. Surely, he—”

  “Needs his own nursemaid.”

  “So you admit to thinking of me as a child.”

  “Ye—no!” He stood, clearly frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair. “I think of you as my responsibility, my beloved sister. I will not have you in danger. Not now, not ever, and certainly not while I’m thoroughly and happily preoccupied with my wife. I cannot be in two places at once.”

  A resigned acceptance was creeping in. True, Gabriel tended to be a touch overbearing and vigilant when it came to those he loved, but Rosalind would feel immeasurable guilt knowing he wasn’t enjoying himself on his wedding trip because he worried over some idiotic wager. She must relent.

  Or at least allow him to believe that she had.

  Pivoting on her heel to face a spectacular tapestry depicting a panoramic view of the family estate, Rosalind tapped her finger against her chin in thought as she paced the length and back again.

  First, she must glean whatever information she could about this person in order to gain clues to determine his identity.

  Then, once Gabriel and Madelyn were far and away, she’d discreetly approach him and pay him double whatever Gabriel had promised if he’d agree to go away.

  It would be rather simple, really. She ought to ask a few questions before she quit the room. Why not be direct?

  “Well then,” she said, affecting resignation. “Who is he?”

  “God willing, you will never need to know. I just want you to feel safe.”

  “All right,” she said tightly. “What of this . . . this . . . protector. How sure are you of his moral standing? Your circle of trust is diminutive, indeed. How can you be so sure he’ll not, oh I don’t know, snatch me up himself and run away with me?”

  Gabriel threw back his head and laughed. “He is not the sort to be swept away by romantic notions. I can assure you his only interest is to keep you s
afe until I return.”

  She doubted that. “His objective may be chivalrous at first, but the true intentions of men always reveal themselves eventually.”

  “You shall be safe,” he insisted.

  “How can you be so certain?” she asked, hoping Gabriel would think she was still trying to change his mind and therefore allow some clues to slip about her guardian’s identity. “Have you known him long?”

  He nodded. “Since I was a young man.”

  Her curiosity was piqued. “Have I met him then?”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

  “Did you meet him at Eton?”

  “No.” His eyes narrowed. “Although he is well educated and attended a well-respected school in . . .” He allowed his words to trail off, apparently seeing the trap she was setting and thinking to take a step away from it.

  “He is a gentleman, then? Not some Bow Street Runner?”

  “His family and the Devines have known each other for quite some time. That is all I will say.”

  “How long has he been watching me?”

  “He’ll be discreet,” he said, deliberately evading her question. “Aunt Eugenia needn’t know his identity either.”

  “When does he begin watching me?”

  Again, he admitted nothing, but he did look down at a paper on his desk, running his finger across a line as he read.

  Before she left this room, Rosalind silently vowed, she was going to snatch that sheet of vellum from his desk. She believed it to be the guest list for this evening. And one of those guests, she supposed, was her guardian.

  “He has been equipped with a directory of your acquaintances. Activities you usually participate in for the entire season,” Gabriel continued. “Your shopping habits, et cetera.”

  “I don’t follow a strict routine,” she remarked. If she couldn’t pay the goon off, she would shake him off instead. All she had to do was alter her schedule.

  “I am certain he’ll be able to conform to your changes.”

  Distinctive, feminine murmuring came from down the hall.

  Gabriel’s head jerked up at the sound, his gaze softening.

  Madelyn. No one but Gabriel’s wife could redirect her brother’s attention so quickly and completely. And it greatly pleased Rosalind. She’d known they were perfect for each other from the very first moment Gabriel had spied Madelyn hiding in the garden last autumn.

  Rosalind had had a small hand in bringing them together. After all, it was she who had insisted Madelyn ought to be invited to her brother’s ball. Gabriel had originally deemed the former Miss Haywood too clumsy, too imperfect.

  But she was absolutely perfect for him.

  It didn’t surprise Rosalind at all that Gabriel had fallen for Madelyn so hard and fast. Rosalind simply possessed a talent for knowing when two people belonged together. And she couldn’t have been more right.

  An adorable vision in a white satin slip over a light blue net frock, which complemented her dark-red hair to dazzling perfection, Madelyn stopped at the door frame and smiled at Gabriel. “Your lovely aunt . . .” She poked her head in. “Oh! Rosalind! There you are.”

  Amazing. A minute ago her brother had looked like a stuffy, arrogant duke. Now he smiled at his wife quite like a wolf who spied a plump bunny that had unknowingly wandered into his den.

  A white lace ribbon that had been weaved through Madelyn’s coif had come partially loose, which allowed a big coil of dark cherry hair to slide free. It dangled near her ear. Somehow it wouldn’t be right if every hair was in place.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude,” she said softly, “but your aunt and her cat have arrived, and they have both become rather terse over her ‘less than hospitable’ welcome into your home.”

  He exhaled wearily.

  “She’s upset because you have yet to make an appearance in the morning room.”

  “She can wait,” Gabriel grumbled.

  Rosalind closed her eyes on a slow blink. She had forgotten that since Madelyn and Gabriel were leaving early tomorrow morning, Aunt Eugenia must temporarily move in to act as chaperone.

  Usually harmless, the crotchety old spinster had yet to give her approval of her nephew’s choice of bride and liked to remind everyone of that fact every now and again. Gabriel would just as soon forbid the woman from entering the house, but Madelyn insisted he allow her to visit. Rosalind didn’t think she would have been as gracious if put in the same situation.

  “Madelyn and I will be leaving early tomorrow,” Gabriel reminded her. “I expect you to exercise caution and keep your little nose out of everyone else’s love affairs. Don’t make this any more difficult for your guardian than it needs to be.”

  “Very well,” Rosalind replied noncommittally, trying hard not to smile like an imp. Her gaze slid to the paper Gabriel had read from just a moment ago.

  Clearing his throat, Gabriel motioned for Rosalind to proceed to the doorway.

  Smiling innocently, she skirted around him, letting her arm trail behind her. If he would just turn his back for a second, she could just reach over and make a grab for . . .

  Anticipating her thoughts, he snatched up the sheet of vellum and tossed it into the grate. The low flames flashed, and then curled around the edges, turning it into ash.

  His brow lifted. “Think I don’t know my own sister?”

  Rosalind merely shrugged and walked out of the room, smiling at Madelyn. “Quick. Tell me who it is,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth as she passed.

  Madelyn gave her head a slight shake. “I can’t. He made me promise. He used . . . ah, persuasive tactics.” She blushed and patted imaginary wrinkles from her bodice.

  “Move along, Rosalind,” Gabriel ordered.

  Madelyn gave her an apologetic smile. “It’s for the best.”

  “I understand,” Rosalind answered. Despite the undue aggravation, she really wanted the two of them to have a lovely, worry-free trip. “If this brings Gabriel some peace, so be it. I’ll manage it.”

  “That’s exactly what I fear,” Gabriel remarked, giving his wife a wink before Rosalind walked out the door.

  A sudden thought, outlandish as it might very well be, sprouted in her mind. “Gabriel? I saw Nicholas Kincaid at the bookshop today.”

  He nodded, looking mildly surprised.

  “Is he . . . ?”

  Gabriel’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Nicholas is here on business.”

  “I see,” she muttered and turned away, her curiosity piqued. It had to be true. Gabriel wouldn’t lie to her.

  Halfway down the corridor, Rosalind realized the happy couple had not followed her. Her steps slowed and she looked over her shoulder, wondering what had held them back.

  Gabriel must have caught sight of that loose coil in his wife’s coiffure. He lifted his hand. For a second, Rosalind thought he would fix it for Madelyn, but she was wrong. Bending forward, he tipped it close to his lips with a single finger and kissed it.

  Feeling a trifle embarrassed for having witnessed such a gentle, sweet gesture, Rosalind whipped back around, a touch of a blush heating her cheeks.

  A second emotion resided in her heart as well. Envy.

  Part of her knew that she would be just fine on her own. There would be joy to be found in observing the happiness of others. But it wasn’t that simple—she loved someone.

  An image of dark-brown hair kissed with gold by the sun and tousled around a supremely handsome face sprang to mind. Back home in Yorkshire, seeing Nicholas, having him visit or having him stay for supper—it had been the best part of her day. But she, apparently, hadn’t been the highlight of his day. If she had been, then he surely would have made an offer for her by now.

  A wave of uneasiness roiled through her. Rosalind already knew what a lifetime of indifference could do to a woman’s spirit, her soul. To love someone who would never return the affection. Her mother had been such a woman. Was she destined to suffer the same fate? To make the same m
istake?

  The sting of unshed tears surprised her, but she banished them back to the depths of her heart. She needed all her wits about her if she was going to unveil this guardian of hers.

  Rosalind looked back to see Gabriel slide his arm around Madelyn’s waist and steer her down the opposite way.

  “Wait, please!” Rosalind called out, hoping he’d be so distracted that he just might tell her more than he wanted to. Plus, she reminded herself, she did have another brother to try and glean information from. “Does Tristan know about this?”

  Gabriel shook his head slowly. “No more questions, Rosalind. Just let the man do his job.”

  “Am I the only one not to know? You’re not being fair.”

  “Now,” he remarked pointedly, “you sound exactly like a child. Come now, you and I both know that should I give you one scrap of information on the man, you will use it to discover his identity and then try charming him to leave off.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “I would never do anything of the sort.”

  Charm him? Imagine!

  If he was anything like another friend of her brother’s, her wiles ought to have no effect on this guardian at all.

  “Just don’t cause trouble, Rosie,” Gabriel warned.

  “Trouble?” She scoffed. “I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

  Chapter 3

  Trouble had lively blue eyes and sleek sable tresses.

  Her lips curved upward faintly at the corners even when she was at her most somber, giving one the misguided impression she knew all of your secrets . . . or she was about to tell you one of hers. And she had the longest legs he’d ever seen for someone who barely reached his shoulders.

  Nicholas made a point to avoid Trouble, but he hadn’t expected the slow burn of desire that had tugged at him when he’d stood so close to her in the bookshop. It had been so sudden, so unforeseeable in its power, that it had left him feeling shaken. And here he had thought that spending less time at the Devines’ would finally free him from her effortless enchantment once and for all. What a fool he was.