She sighed to herself. She’d probably never see him again. She’d met enough Americans in the Caribbean to recognize his accent. Americans visited England, but they didn’t stay here, and most of them didn’t even like the English. Why, it hadn’t even been that long since the two countries had been at war with each other! So if she ever saw that particular American again, she would be amazed. Every bit of embarrassment she’d felt today over her own behavior would come rushing right back to her—and

probably have her acting the fool again.

Chapter 8

GABRIELLE’S NERVES WERE NEARLY SHREDDEDby the time they knocked on the door in Berkeley Square. The townhouse was in the upper-crust end of town. It had taken half the morning to find out where the lord lived. Her father certainly hadn’t known, as he hadn’t seen the chap in more than fifteen years. All he knew was that the man had moved back to England quite a few years ago with his son.

She’d tried to look her best for this meeting, and Margery had helped, getting the wrinkles out of her clothes, but her nervousness was making her feel like she wasn’t up to scratch. And she was cold. Good grief. It was still summer in England! But she was too used to the warmer climate of the Caribbean now, and, unfortunately, her current wardrobe reflected that.

She had only a few stylish dresses and even those were made of lightweight materials. Long ago she’d tossed away just about her entire wardrobe that she’d left England with, because it was much too warm for the Caribbean. Now her trunks were filled with brightly colored casual skirts and blouses, and not even one petticoat.

She had a purse full of money for her new wardrobe, but that wasn’t going to help her make a good first impression today. She was hoping no one was home, that the man wasn’t even in England. If Richard and Ohr weren’t with her, she wouldn’t be standing here biting her lip. She would be on the first ship back to St. Kitts.

The door opened. A servant stood there. Then again, maybe he wasn’t a servant. With a scraggly gray beard, cutoff pants, and bare feet, he looked like he belonged in the islands more than they did.

“Wot’s it to be then and be quick about it,” he said quite rudely.

Ohr, without expression, said, “A letter for your master, to be hand delivered. We’ll wait inside.” He wasn’t giving the man a chance to disagree. He took Gabrielle’s arm and pushed past the fellow.

“Now just a bleedin’ minute,” the man protested. “Where’s yer calling card, eh?”

“The letter is our—”

“Is there a problem, Artie?”

All eyes turned to the woman who appeared in one of the open doorways off the long entry hall where they now stood. She was no bigger than Gabrielle, maybe an inch or so shorter, with dark brown hair and eyes. She looked to be somewhere around thirty years of age, with a face that would be exceptionally lovely at any age.

The three visitors were so taken by her beauty that they were speechless, giving the servant called Artie a chance to say, “They barged in, George, but I’ll be giving them the boot now.” The woman—George—tsked and said, “There’s no need for that.” And then she smiled at Gabrielle and added graciously, “I’m Georgina Malory. May I help you?”

Gabrielle’s embarrassment prevented her from answering. She felt like a bloody beggar. She didn’t care what her father had done to help Lord Malory, it couldn’t be enough of a favor to expect these people to take her in and sponsor her for the Season. And it might even take her two Seasons to find a husband!

The launching of a debutante was a major undertaking. It required attending party after party, planning, acquiring a new wardrobe, arranging suitable escorts and chaperones. She and her mother had talked about it often—before Carla had met Albert. And Carla had known the right people. She’d been looking forward to her daughter’s Season in London. Gabrielle had, too, back then, and even on the trip here.

But now that it was time to call in favors, she just wanted to go back to the Caribbean.

Richard spoke up with a charming smile, even doffed his jaunty hat for the lady. “We have a letter for Lord Malory, madam. Dare I hope he isn’t your husband?”

“Yes, I am,” came a deep voice in a distinctly unfriendly tone from the top of the stairs. “So get your eyes off of my wife or I will have to tear you apart limb by limb.” Gabrielle glanced up the stairs and actually took a step back toward the door. Good grief, she’d never seen a man quite so solidly built, or so menacing. It wasn’t his unfriendly tone. Not at all. It wasn’t even the lack of expression on his face. There was simply an aura about the man that warned he was dangerous, even deadly…that they should be looking for the nearest exit.

With no telling expression, the man didn’t appear to be jealous, yet his tone smacked of jealousy. It was regrettable that Richard had posed his question in such a way that implied an interest in the lady, and even more regrettable that her husband had heard him.

Gabrielle shook her head. No, this couldn’t be the man she was to ask this favor of. There had to be some kind of mistake on her father’s part. Of course! There must be more than one Lord Malory in London. They’d come to the wrong house.

That thought gave her such relief; she was about to say so when Ohr said, “We meet again, Captain Hawke. It has been so many years, you may not remember—”

“I never forget a face.”

Gabrielle turned to give Ohr a surprised look. Blast it, so they did have the right house. But Ohr could have told her what the man was like instead of mentioning fops to mislead her. And she didn’t doubt Malory had been just like this when Ohr had met him all those years ago. Dangerous just didn’t go away.

“We don’t use that name anymore,” Malory continued coldly. “So strike it from your memory, or I will.” That was clearly a threat, the second one in as many minutes. If the first hadn’t produced a reaction in her two escorts, this second one certainly did. The tension was now palpable in all three men.

Of all the ways Gabrielle had envisioned this meeting going, this wasn’t one of them. But then she’d had a completely different view of English aristocrats. She’d met many over the years growing up, and not one of them had been the least bit intimidating. This man was more than intimidating. Big, blond, and so muscular it wouldn’t take much for him to tear someone limb by limb.

Malory continued down the stairs. Gabrielle was ready to leave before any more threats were uttered.

Ohr wasn’t. He didn’t mention the letter, but he shoved it at the man when he was within reach.

She groaned inwardly. She knew she should have kept that letter herself, instead of letting Ohr carry it.

It was sealed. None of them had opened it. She didn’t even know how her father had phrased his request—as a favor, or a demand? Good grief, he wouldn’t have dared make a demand of a man like this, would he?

She held her breath while Lord Malory opened the letter and scanned it quickly. “Bloody hell,” he muttered when he was done. Gabrielle was mortified.

“What is it, James?” his wife asked, frowning curiously.

He said nothing, merely handed the letter to her so she could see for herself. She didn’t utter any oaths.

In fact, she amazed Gabrielle by smiling.

“Why, this sounds like fun,” Georgina declared, and it looked like she actually meant it. She then glanced at her husband. “Didn’t you read it all?”

“Yes, but I see you haven’t grasped the implications yet,” he replied.

“That there will be many parties to attend?” she queried.

“No.”

“That we’re going to be a bit crowded here, with two of my brothers visiting as well?”

“No.”

“Then what’s got you annoyed, aside from the remark that provoked your charming display of jealousy?”

Gabrielle could guess. Although she hadn’t said a word yet, Malory must have assumed that as the daughter of a pirate she was utterly unsuitable to be foisted on the ton.

And yet all he said was, “Bite your tongue, George. I am not, nor will I ever be, charming.” He didn’t deny the jealousy, though, which brought a flush to Richard’s cheeks. Nor did he answer the question, which prompted his wife to make another guess.

“You must be feeling guilty, then, for making so many unnecessary threats.” It was such a provocative statement. How did the woman dare to talk to him like that? For that matter, what was a petite, perky woman like her doing married to such a big, menacing bruiser? Granted, he was handsome, with his long blond hair that reached his shoulders and those sharp green eyes. But he was deadly. There was absolutely no doubt in Gabrielle’s mind.

And yet, all he did was snort at his wife and say, “The devil I am.”

“Glad to hear it,” Georgina said in a chipper tone, then added by way of explanation to the others present, “He’s impossible to live with when he’s feeling guilty.”

“I’m bloody well not guilty, George.”

It wasn’t just the words but the tone that lent truth to that statement, and yet the woman said, “Yes, yes, and I can depend upon it, too, I’m sure you’d like to add, though we both know better.”

“George.”

Such warning in a single word, but the women still ignored it and said briskly to Gabrielle’s escorts,

“You gentlemen can be at ease now. My husband isn’t going to tear off any limbs today.”

“You might, m’dear, when you realize that you’ll have to cancel your trip to accommodate this request.” Georgina frowned. “Oh, dear, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Didn’t think so,” Malory replied.

“Ah, sothat’s why you’re annoyed? You think I’m going to be disappointed?” He didn’t deny it, and actually confirmed it by saying, “Aren’t you?”

“Not a’tall. Jack probably will be, though. You know how impatient children can be. But next year will do just as well for that trip.”

Gabrielle had blanched with the realization that this favor was going to interfere with their plans. She finally spoke up.

“Please don’t change your agenda on my account. My father probably didn’t consider that you might not be available to assist me. His decision to send me here was made on the spur of the moment. We can make other arrangements and wait until he arrives to figure out something else.”

“When will that be?” Georgina asked.

But Ohr said at the same time, “No we can’t. He’s still in the Caribbean and won’t be coming here anytime soon.”

“Well, that won’t do a’tall,” Georgina said with some finality.

But Malory clinched it when he said, “You’ll stay.” And that settled that. However, he wasn’t finished.

With a look and tone that left no room for argument, he told her escorts, “You won’t. You’ve done your duty. She’s in my care now. There’s the door.”

Ohr and Richard hadn’t intended to stay in this part of town. Gabrielle quickly hugged them good-bye.

She felt bad that James Malory had all but kicked them out the door, but she was sure it was Richard’s stirring up Malory’s jealousy that resulted in their having to leave sooner that she would have liked.

Alone now with the lord and lady, she felt her nervousness increase tenfold. But Georgina put her more at ease when she asked, “Shall we adjourn to the dining room? If you haven’t eaten yet, the buffet is still hot. We eat at odd hours here, so breakfast is served for most of the morning. In any case, let’s have a cup of tea while we get acquainted.”

Gabrielle followed the lady, and unfortunately, James Malory followed her. She was sure she wasn’t going to be able to relax with that man in the room. He was far too intimidating, and besides, she was still

so embarrassed about intruding on their lives that she could barely get out the apology she felt she owed them.

“I’m very sorry that my arrival has disrupted your plans like this.”

“Not another word, m’dear,” Malory replied, his tone much more congenial now. “At the risk of earning a scowl from George, I don’t mind admitting your timing couldn’t have been more perfect.”

“You weren’t happy with your plans?”

When he didn’t answer, Georgina laughed and explained, “He’s still worried about that scowl he mentioned. You see, while he’ll go above and beyond in his efforts to please me, the trip I wanted to take was rather quickly arranged, to take advantage of my brother Drew’s ship being in London. But my husband doesn’t actually get along famously with my brothers—”

“No need to wrap it up nicely, George,” Malory interrupted. “I despise her brothers and they despise me. It’s pleasantly mutual.”

Gabrielle blinked, but Georgina rolled her eyes. “He’s simplified it, but they really dotry to get along.”

“What she means is we stopped trying to kill each other years ago,” James added.

He sounded serious, but Gabrielle simply couldn’t believe that he was. And assuming that he was joking managed to put her somewhat at ease.

“At any rate,” Georgina continued. “James wasn’t happy about sailing on my brother’s ship, so yes, he’s no doubt delighted to have our trip postponed to a later date.” Amazingly, they’d managed to remove most of Gabrielle’s guilt for foisting herself on them. Not all of it, but she was certainly feeling much better about it.