“I was parched. I sent—”

  “Excellent,” he cut in, and twirled her onto the dance floor before she could object. “I was wondering how I could manage a dance with you. And the music will be over before your partner returns. A shame to waste it.”

  He was touching her. Her hand was grasped warmly in his, while his other hand rested firmly on her waist. She felt his touch so keenly that for a moment she could think of nothing else and barely heard what he was saying.

  His eyes—they really were black. The light in the ballroom was fairly bright from an excessive number of chandeliers, and standing this close to him, she could detect no other color in them. Quite disturbing, those eyes. They started that fluttering again in her belly—no, it was probably just him. The attraction she felt was more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced before.

  His shoulders—good grief, they were so wide. He was such a tall, strapping man, and far too pleasing on the eyes. That fluttering inside her wouldn’t stop. She really should get away from him, but it would be too rude of her to end their dance abruptly, and oh, God, she didn’t really want to.

  He smelled so good, like exotic spice. They were dancing too closely. And yet she lacked the will to break the contact with him or mention that it was highly improper. Why, their chests were so close they were nearly touching; in fact, her breasts did graze against him at one point and instantly tingled in response.

  “You never did answer my question,” he said softly near her ear. “Did you really come back to England just to get a husband?”

  Her salvation! Such a perfect subject to get her mind off of what he was making her feel. “Yes, but don’t worry, I won’t be setting my sights on you. I’m aware that you’re just a Lothario.”

  “Am I? And where did you hear that?”

  She wasn’t about to admit that she’d eavesdropped on him and his brother this morning and had hurried away before they’d noticed. “Your sister must have mentioned it.”

  “No, she wouldn’t have. She could be furious with me but would never use a word like that to describe me.”

  “A sweetheart in every port?”

  He chuckled. “I concede. That’s indeed something Georgie might have said.” But then he gave her a knowing look and guessed, “Ah, I understand. You related that to being a Lothario.”

  She shrugged and managed to sound nonchalant. “If it’s merely the word you object to, ‘philanderer’ works just as well, don’t you think?”

  He winced. She was immediately contrite. Did she really need to ruin these few minutes with him? The dance was almost over. She’d go back to getting her feet trampled by the long list of partners on her dance card. He’d go back to arranging an assignation with another woman for later in the evening. She didn’t doubt that’s what he’d been doing earlier with that lady she’d seen him talking to.

  She debated confessing the truth to him, that it hadn’t been her idea to come back to England, and certainly wasn’t her idea to appeal to his family for help. But that really wasn’t something he needed to know and it wouldn’t make the least difference in what relationship they were allowed—which was none at all. Because she did want to get married, preferably to a man she could persuade to live part of each year in St. Kitts so she could still see her father regularly, but Drew didn’t want to marry ever.

  “I see another Malory has shown up,” Drew remarked just as the dance ended.

  “How many are there?”

  “Too many,” he replied with a chuckle. “But this one, like James, doesn’t care to be dragged to affairs like this, so I wonder what he’s doing here, unless…Did you meet them when they picked up Judith today?”

  “Her parents? No, I was getting last-minute fittings for this gown.”

  “They may just be here to meet you, then. And that’s a very pretty gown, by the way.” His dark eyes ran up and down the length of her, pausing at her bosom.

  She wished he hadn’t said that. She wished he hadn’t looked at her like that. It accounted for the blush she was wearing when he deposited her in front of the Malorys he’d just mentioned. Georgina had already found her relations by marriage and made the introductions.

  Anthony Malory was incredibly handsome, but oddly, he looked nothing like his brother James. Taller, and certainly darker, he sported the same black hair and blue eyes that his niece Regina had. His wife, Rosalyn, was simply breathtaking, with red-gold hair, lovely hazel-green eyes, and a trim though voluptuous figure. It was obvious now where Judith got her coloring from.

  “You must be the pirate,” Anthony said baldly.

  His wife gasped. “Anthony!”

  And Georgina scolded, “Not so loud, Tony. And don’t say that word in public when referring to Gabby. We don’t want to ruin her chances of making a good match.”

  But Gabrielle saw that no one other than the Malorys was nearby to have overheard him, and the poor man was beginning to look contrite, even though she was sure he had just been teasing. So she grinned and said, “Yes, bloodthirsty and all that. It’s a shame there are no planks around here so I can prove it.”

  He chuckled. “Well said, m’dear.”

  But Drew whispered behind her, “He thinks you’re teasing, but I actually wish you weren’t. Pirates aren’t virgins and don’t give a damn about convention, so you could prove you really are one by spending the night with me.”

  Gabrielle’s blush was immediate. But when she turned to rebuke Drew, she almost gasped, seeing his expression. There was such heat in his eyes, as if he were already imagining her in his bed. And, good heavens, she started to do the same thing. Her stomach wasn’t just fluttering now. Her whole body felt warm and as if it were trembling! She put her hand on her chest to try to contain the pounding there.

  Behind her, Georgina was telling Rosalyn and Anthony about some of the parties she intended to take Gabrielle to over the next couple of weeks. But Anthony must have noticed the interaction between Gabrielle and Drew, because he remarked, “It shouldn’t take long to find her a husband. She seems to find the men in London agreeable, even the American ones.”

  Hearing that, Georgina looked curiously at her brother, then her eyes flared slightly and she asked him, “You’ve been behaving, haven’t you?”

  He gave her a boyish smile. “Don’t I always?”

  Georgina snorted. “No, you don’t. But see that you do, henceforth.”

  He rolled his eyes at her, as if she were making something out of nothing, but Gabrielle was very aware of the hand he put on her waist to turn her back toward his relatives. It was a very casual touch to anyone who might have noticed it, but not to her. She felt the slight squeeze of his fingers just before he let go.

  Wilbur Carlisle had to say her name twice to gain her attention. She’d been too busy wondering why Drew had just touched her in what was a distinctly possessive manner to notice that her next dance partner had arrived to claim her. Had Drew seen the young gentleman approaching and touched her like that just to make a subtle point? Wilbur did glance at Drew a bit curiously. No, she was being silly and making something out of nothing herself.

  She gave Wilbur a bright smile and her full attention. Now, here was a nice chap. If she had to make a choice immediately, she would choose Wilbur as a husband. He was handsome, amiable, and witty. She could find no fault with him, other than he didn’t make her stomach flutter the way Drew did. She’d met him last night at Regina’s and had enjoyed their brief conversation. He’d even made her laugh several times, something none of the other men she’d met so far had tried to do. She was pleased that he was there tonight so she could get to know him a little better. Without a doubt, he was the most handsome of the gentlemen who had flocked to sign her dance card as soon as she arrived. Not as handsome as Drew, of course, but…Good grief, she had to stop thinking of philandering rakes like Drew Anderson and keep her mind focused on the men who were as interested in marriage as she was.

  Chapter 14

  G
ABRIELLE GOT VERY LITTLE SLEEP THAT NIGHT. Rolling through her mind repeatedly and keeping her awake was Drew’s remark. Prove she was really a pirate by spending the night with him. She should have been scandalized. But she wasn’t. When she took the time to think about it after she got home, she was too pleased by what she’d read between the lines—he wanted her. And what a remarkable effect that knowledge had on her. One moment she felt so excited she became almost giddy, and the next moment she experienced the deepest despair. Because she couldn’t do anything about Drew’s desire for her. Nor would he.

  Margery woke her the next morning earlier than she would have liked. She almost shooed the older woman out so she could get a few more hours’ sleep, but she remembered that Margery hadn’t been home much the last couple of days. She had many old friends in London she wanted to visit. So now would be a good time to talk to her and get her opinion on her prospective suitors, in case Margery was going out again today.

  “Help me figure out which qualities I should be looking for in a husband,” she said as Margery riffled through her wardrobe to pick out her day dress.

  “Just use your common sense, girl,” Margery said, and held out two dresses. “The pink or the blue?”

  “The pink,” Gabrielle replied without glancing at the dresses. “But common sense doesn’t really tell me what to look for, it merely helps me determine what I find agreeable about a man after I meet him.”

  Margery tsked. “Kindness, tolerance, patience, honor, compassion—”

  “Wait!” Gabrielle threw up a hand. “Some of those qualities aren’t going to be obvious or come to light easily. I could know a man for years and not find out if he’s honorable or not. Or is there a way to tell that I’m not thinking of?”

  Margery tossed the pink dress on the bed, then moved to the bureau to fetch some underclothes. “You’re asking me if there’s a way to find out if a man has honor? Lord love you, lass, if I knew how to do that, I’d bottle it and sell it.”

  Gabrielle sighed. “What else should I be looking for?”

  “Your personal preferences, of course.”

  “You mean like a good sense of humor? I’d really like that in a husband.”

  “And?”

  “A fine physique. I’m partial to that.”

  Margery rolled her eyes. “No, you’re not. That Millford heir had a rotund gut to go with his handsome face.”

  “Only a slight one and let’s not mention that snob,” Gabrielle said indignantly, then gasped, “Snobbery, of course! I won’t tolerate that!”

  “What else?”

  “A sallow complexion won’t do. I swear, half the men I’ve met here look like ghosts, they’re so pale.”

  Margery chuckled. “And how would you know what a ghost looks like, eh?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be discounting complexions, girl. Stick a man out in the sun for a few days and that takes care of that, don’t it?”

  “True.”

  “Have you started that list, then, that you were thinking of making?”

  “That’s what I’m doing now.”

  “Well, don’t be making this husband hunt more difficult than it is by listing a whole slew of names. You want a few choices, not a headache sorting them out. How many are you starting with?”

  “Just a few,” Gabrielle replied, then frowned. “I think you’re right, though. These other two men I was going to put on the list, I’m not really interested in. And that leaves just Wilbur Carlisle for now.”

  “You like him?”

  “He’s almost too perfect,” Gabrielle replied with a frown. “There’s nothing about him not to like.”

  Margery chuckled. “Don’t you dare find fault with that, Gabby, so get that frown off of your brow and remember you’ve only been to two parties so far.”

  Gabrielle grinned. “I know. Georgina has assured me there are many more men for me to meet. But I hope Wilbur will come by so you can have a look at him. I’d like your opinion—”

  “All right, but my opinion won’t matter one bit and it shouldn’t,” Margery said. “Because you’ve already answered your own question, haven’t you? You know exactly what you want in a man. So go ahead and make your list, but trust your heart in the end.”

  Margery said no more on the subject and helped her to dress as she did each morning, then went off for a cup of tea while Gabrielle sat down at the vanity to fix her hair in the simple coiffure she preferred for daytime. But Margery’s last remarks stuck in her mind, in particular, that she already knew what she wanted in a man. It struck her as odd that she’d said man, rather than husband, but she didn’t find it odd at all that the only name that came to mind for a man was Drew. And back came the giddiness, and the despair, that had kept her awake so long last night.

  But remembering how good it had felt when he’d held her in his arms while they’d danced, she soon began thinking about ways she might get around her own objections to him—and overcome his. Her main, no, really her only objection to getting involved with Drew was that he was a sailor, and that was an objection because she didn’t want to spend her life pining away at home, month after month, waiting for her sailor to come home, just as her mother had done. It was pointless to love a man who loves the sea. That advice had been drummed into her since she was a child, and she’d taken it to heart. But that was before she’d gone to sea and discovered that she loved to sail. So where was it written that she had to stay at home and let her man go off to sea alone? Why couldn’t she live at sea with her husband?

  As soon as that thought occurred to her, the despair was gone, leaving only the giddiness. His objections to getting involved with her were minor. So he didn’t want to get married. Maybe he only thought he didn’t. And maybe that was because he’d never had a reason to give marriage serious consideration.

  She could give him that reason, if she’d stop pushing him away with every other word out of her mouth. But she’d have to circumvent his own agenda first. A sweetheart in every port. That phrase was so very—annoying. She didn’t doubt he would have tried to make her his sweetheart in his English port if she weren’t actively seeking a husband. His outrageous remark about spending the night with her implied that he would.

  The same thoughts followed her around the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. They were going to the theater tonight, but that didn’t distract her either. It was a new play, so even James would be attending. Which meant Drew wouldn’t have to escort her and Georgina. She wasn’t sure if she’d see him at all today, but she was anxious to find out if it was even possible to get rid of the antagonism that had grown between them.

  It was actually a relief when Richard showed up to check on her that afternoon, not because she was glad to see him, which she was, but because she knew he would take her mind off of Drew, and he did that quickly enough with just his attire. She barely recognized him!

  “Look at you!” she exclaimed when she came downstairs to find him in the entry hall, and gave him a big hug.

  Richard was dressed as finely as any young lord. He’d even cut his black hair, or it appeared that he had, until he doffed his hat and his braid tumbled down his back.

  “You’ve been shopping,” she continued.

  “One of us had to, if we are going to keep coming to this end of town to check on you, and Ohr refused to go anywhere near a suit. So, have you found us a husband yet?”

  She laughed. “Us?”

  “Well, we have a vested interest, don’t we? If you’ve got your husband picked out by the time Nathan gets here, then we can head home right after the wedding, and I don’t mind telling you, the less time I spend here the better.”

  She raised a questioning brow at him, but he went right on to the next subject as if he hadn’t just admitted he was nervous about being back in England. She wondered if she’d ever find out what he was running away from.

  “Have you seen your solicitor yet?” Richard asked.

&nbs
p; “No, but I have an appointment tomorrow.”

  A servant came down the hall. Gabrielle took Richard’s arm and led him out back to the large garden behind the house, thinking they wouldn’t be disturbed there, but he noticed immediately that it was already occupied.

  “Wonderful,” he said. “I was so hoping I’d see her while I was here.”

  “Her?”

  “Lady Malory,” he answered.

  She followed his gaze to where Georgina was sitting on the edge of a fountain, trying to read a book and keep her eye on the two younger children, Gilbert and Adam, she had with her. Energetic tykes; Georgina wasn’t getting much reading done.

  Gabrielle had been introduced to the twins and their nurse just yesterday. She didn’t know why the nurse was absent today; perhaps the lady just wanted to spend some time alone with her children.

  But it took her only a moment to recall the jealousy Richard had inspired in James Malory upon their arrival. She glanced at him, wondering whether she should laugh or clobber him.

  She finally said, “Richard, she’s a married woman.”

  “Yes, but look who she’s married to,” he replied. “She can’t really be happy with a brute like that. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Absolutely, was her first thought, and yet she’d witnessed the way the couple behaved together, just as Richard had, and while he might not have read between the lines, she certainly had. In addition to their obvious physical attraction to each other, she’d also sensed the emotional closeness between them, and the utter lack of fear on Georgina’s part. Any woman who could talk to her husband the way Georgina Malory spoke to James knew that she was loved and obviously reciprocated the sentiment.

  But Gabrielle saw that her friend appeared to be serious, so she replied cautiously, “You’d think she’d be intimidated by a man who so easily inspires fear in others, wouldn’t you? But I never got that impression from her, just the opposite, actually. And I’ve spoken with her several times in private. She might not be happy with the current situation I’ve placed her in. They did have other plans, after all. But she hasn’t let on that I’ve inconvenienced her and seems happy enough otherwise. But then you were just basing your opinion on who she’s married to, right?”