A Lady In Need Of An Heir. Louise Allen

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       Chapter Two

      Gray straightened up, not at all certain he could believe what Gabrielle Frost had just said.

      ‘Your lover? Your betrothed, you mean? Which regiment was he in?’

      ‘No, you did hear me correctly, my lord. My lover. And, no, I am not discussing him with you.’ She bent to brush a fallen leaf from the stone, then walked away from him, seemingly unconcerned that she had just dropped a shell into his hands, its fuse still hissing.

      Lover? She was ruined. His godmother would have hysterics because no one, surely, except some bankrupt younger son, bribed to do it, would take Gabrielle Frost now. What the hell was she doing, admitting to it so brazenly?

      Gray pulled himself together and strode after her out of the grave plot, letting the little wrought iron gate clang shut behind him. The garnet skirts swished through the grass ahead. Her legs must be long for her to have gained so much ground. He lengthened his stride for the dozen steps it took to bring him to her side.

      ‘Miss Frost, stop, please.’ It was more an order than a request and all the effect it had on her was to bring up her chin. As though he had not spoken she continued until she passed through an arch cut in a high evergreen hedge.

      ‘Here is the rose garden. If you are going to rant at me, my lord, at least we are out of sight of the house here.’ She made her way to a curving stone bench and sat down. It was a charming spot that overlooked a pool and fountain set in the middle of the curving rose beds, but Gray was in no mood to appreciate it.

      He stopped beside her, his shoulder dislodging the petals of a late, deep red bloom the same colour as her skirts. The petals fell like bloodstained confetti on to her hair and he repressed a shudder at his own gruesome imagery. Thinking about that battle must have released memories he had buried for four years or more.

      ‘Is this widely known?’ he demanded. ‘I heard no gossip, no whispers in Porto.’

      ‘Of course it is not known. Do you think me a loose woman to brag of my...adventures?’

      ‘Then why tell me, a total stranger?’

      ‘Because you are the total stranger who has been sent to lure me back to England, I suspect, and now you know a very good reason why I should not go. You are also an English gentleman and you will not, I think, gossip, whatever you think of me.’ She looked up at him, her head tipped slightly to one side like an inquisitive cat as she waited for his reaction.

      ‘You shock me, Miss Frost.’ Had the woman no shame?

      ‘Then I am sorry you have had such an affront to your delicate sensibilities, my lord.’

      ‘I do not have sensibilities, Miss Frost. Your aunt, however, does.’ And they wouldn’t have to be delicate to be outraged by this.

      She shrugged, provoking a strong desire in him to give her a brisk shake. ‘Yes, of course, I am sure she is all fine feelings. However, my aunt is a long way away and I do not care about her opinion.’

      In the face of that brazen indifference there seemed little point in attempting to remonstrate with her. Besides, the horse was well and truly bolted and attempting to close the stable door was pointless.

      Gray watched her face. Miss Frost was thinking, it seemed. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Did you fight at Campo Maior, my lord?’

      ‘I did. Why? And call me Gray.’ There was no point in being at odds with her and he hated being my lorded.

      ‘Why do I ask? You might have been close by when he was killed.’ She said it without overt hostility, more, he thought, as though she was calculating carefully which of his ribs to slide a knife between for the tidiest extermination.

      ‘Which regiment?’ he asked.

      ‘Infantry,’ she unbent enough to admit.

      ‘I was cavalry, probably on the opposite flank.’

      ‘Then we have nothing to discuss, have we?’ Gabrielle shifted her gaze from his face and looked out over the garden. Something, a frog perhaps, plopped into the pond, and a pair of magpies flew over, cackling wickedly. ‘Gray,’ she added, as though there had been no pause.

      ‘We must talk,’ Gray said after another silence that, peculiarly, seemed almost amiable. He found himself reluctant to break the tranquillity of the garden with speech.

      ‘You must, I suppose,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Then you will consider your duty done to my aunt and can return to England. I do hope you have some other business in Portugal, because this is a long way to come just for a talk.’

      ‘It is, however, the sole purpose of my journey.’ A talk and a return with one young lady who was already proving ten times more tricky than he had imagined she would be. ‘I could stock my cellars with port while I am here, I suppose.’

      ‘Of course.’ Gabrielle turned to him, something coming alight СКАЧАТЬ