shoulder. His finger slipped beneath the edge of the tiny sleeve of her gown. He started to slide it down her arm.
Phoebe surfaced from the shock of the embrace. Her mind was still reeling. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, trying to find her voice. "My lord, I really don't think—"
Without warning there was a movement in the darkness behind Gabriel. Phoebe went cold as she heard Anthony's voice slice harshly through the night.
"Take your goddamned hands off my sister, Wylde," Anthony said. "How dare you touch her?"
Gabriel's smile was cold in the moonlight as he turned slowly to face Anthony. "We seem to have played this scene once before, Oaksley."
"And it will end the same way it did the last time." Anthony came to a halt a few paces away. His hands were clenched in fury.
"I think not," Gabriel said far too gently. "Things are a little different this time."
Phoebe was horrified. "Stop it, both of you. Anthony, Gabriel and I are friends. I will not allow you to insult him."
"Don't be a fool, Phoebe." Anthony did not look at her. "He is plotting to use you somehow. You may depend upon it. I know him well enough to guarantee that he is after either money or revenge. Probably both."
Meredith's voice called out anxiously from the shadows. "Anthony? Did you find them?" A second later she appeared from behind a row of topiary. When she saw Gabriel, she stopped short, a stricken expression on her lovely face. "Dear God. So it is true. You are back."
Gabriel glanced at her. "Did you think I would not return eventually?"
"I prayed you would not," Meredith whispered brokenly.
Phoebe was getting angrier by the minute. "This is all a grave misunderstanding. Anthony, Meredith, I insist you be polite to Gabriel."
Meredith looked at her. "Anthony is right, Phoebe. Wylde is here for only one reason. Fie wants revenge."
"I do not believe it," Phoebe declared. Defiantly she took a step closer to Gabriel. She looked up at him, frowning severely. "You won't discuss what happened eight years ago, will you?"
"None of you need be unduly alarmed," Gabriel said. He looked amused. "I have no intention of discussing ancient history." His eyes flickered across Meredith's face. "Especially such exceedingly dull ancient history."
Meredith gasped.
Anthony took a menacing step forward. "Are you insulting my sister, sir?"
"Hardly." Gabriel smiled blandly. "I was merely commenting on Lady Trowbridge's impressive virtue. A subject I can speak on with some authority."
Phoebe scowled at her brother and sister. Anthony looked frustrated and furious. Meredith just stood there, an ethereal, tragic figure with her hand at her throat.
Phoebe had had enough. She stepped in front of Gabriel, putting herself between him and the other two. "There will be no more of this nonsense. Do you hear me? I will not tolerate it. What is past is past."
"Stay out of this, Phoebe." Anthony glowered at her. "You have caused enough trouble already."
Phoebe raised her chin. "Gabriel has given his word that he will not gossip about what happened eight years ago, and that is that. From now on, you will treat him as you would any other respectable member of Society."
"The devil I will," Anthony growled.
"Dear heaven, this is a disaster," Meredith whispered.
Gabriel smiled. "Do not concern yourself, Lady Phoebe." He tugged his gloves on. "You need not protect me from your family. I assure you that this time I can take care of myself."
With a polite inclination of his head that was directed solely at her, he turned and walked into the shadows.
Chapter 7
Gabriel smiled with a curious sense of satisfaction as he opened the newspaper. At last he had the answer to what had become a pressing question during the past few days. Phoebe's eyes were the warm, golden color of fine topaz.
She reminded him of the brilliant fish in the lagoons of the South Seas. Phoebe was a creature of bright colors and shimmering hues. Last night the chandeliers had gleamed
Phoebe surfaced from the shock of the embrace. Her mind was still reeling. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, trying to find her voice. "My lord, I really don't think—"
Without warning there was a movement in the darkness behind Gabriel. Phoebe went cold as she heard Anthony's voice slice harshly through the night.
"Take your goddamned hands off my sister, Wylde," Anthony said. "How dare you touch her?"
Gabriel's smile was cold in the moonlight as he turned slowly to face Anthony. "We seem to have played this scene once before, Oaksley."
"And it will end the same way it did the last time." Anthony came to a halt a few paces away. His hands were clenched in fury.
"I think not," Gabriel said far too gently. "Things are a little different this time."
Phoebe was horrified. "Stop it, both of you. Anthony, Gabriel and I are friends. I will not allow you to insult him."
"Don't be a fool, Phoebe." Anthony did not look at her. "He is plotting to use you somehow. You may depend upon it. I know him well enough to guarantee that he is after either money or revenge. Probably both."
Meredith's voice called out anxiously from the shadows. "Anthony? Did you find them?" A second later she appeared from behind a row of topiary. When she saw Gabriel, she stopped short, a stricken expression on her lovely face. "Dear God. So it is true. You are back."
Gabriel glanced at her. "Did you think I would not return eventually?"
"I prayed you would not," Meredith whispered brokenly.
Phoebe was getting angrier by the minute. "This is all a grave misunderstanding. Anthony, Meredith, I insist you be polite to Gabriel."
Meredith looked at her. "Anthony is right, Phoebe. Wylde is here for only one reason. Fie wants revenge."
"I do not believe it," Phoebe declared. Defiantly she took a step closer to Gabriel. She looked up at him, frowning severely. "You won't discuss what happened eight years ago, will you?"
"None of you need be unduly alarmed," Gabriel said. He looked amused. "I have no intention of discussing ancient history." His eyes flickered across Meredith's face. "Especially such exceedingly dull ancient history."
Meredith gasped.
Anthony took a menacing step forward. "Are you insulting my sister, sir?"
"Hardly." Gabriel smiled blandly. "I was merely commenting on Lady Trowbridge's impressive virtue. A subject I can speak on with some authority."
Phoebe scowled at her brother and sister. Anthony looked frustrated and furious. Meredith just stood there, an ethereal, tragic figure with her hand at her throat.
Phoebe had had enough. She stepped in front of Gabriel, putting herself between him and the other two. "There will be no more of this nonsense. Do you hear me? I will not tolerate it. What is past is past."
"Stay out of this, Phoebe." Anthony glowered at her. "You have caused enough trouble already."
Phoebe raised her chin. "Gabriel has given his word that he will not gossip about what happened eight years ago, and that is that. From now on, you will treat him as you would any other respectable member of Society."
"The devil I will," Anthony growled.
"Dear heaven, this is a disaster," Meredith whispered.
Gabriel smiled. "Do not concern yourself, Lady Phoebe." He tugged his gloves on. "You need not protect me from your family. I assure you that this time I can take care of myself."
With a polite inclination of his head that was directed solely at her, he turned and walked into the shadows.
Chapter 7
Gabriel smiled with a curious sense of satisfaction as he opened the newspaper. At last he had the answer to what had become a pressing question during the past few days. Phoebe's eyes were the warm, golden color of fine topaz.
She reminded him of the brilliant fish in the lagoons of the South Seas. Phoebe was a creature of bright colors and shimmering hues. Last night the chandeliers had gleamed
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