His gaze fastened on Alathea. Lengthening his stride, he closed the distance between them. She whirled as he caught up with her. Surprise and awareness flared in her eyes, then she caught herself and inclined her head graciously. "Have you heard anything?"
Taking her hand, an action that now seemed normal, even called for, Gabriel anchored it on his sleeve and drew her to stroll beside him. "No. Nothing more."
"Oh."
He felt her questioning glance. She wanted to know what had brought him here. "I thought you might be interested in the details Montague has put together."
The distraction served; she not only followed his account, but posed a few shrewd questions on the Company's projected costs. He nodded. "I'll get Montague to check-"
"Alathea! Such a pleasant surprise!"
The exclamation brought them up short; absorbed in their discussion, they had not been looking about them. Gabriel muttered a curse as his gaze fell on the countess of Lewes, approaching with her brother, Lord Montgomery.
Alathea smiled. "Cecile! How lovely to see you."
Suppressing a frown, Gabriel exchanged a terse nod with Montgomery. They both waited with feigned patience while the ladies exchanged far more detailed greetings. From references the countess made, Gabriel gathered she and Alathea were contemporaries; their acquaintance dated from Alathea's aborted Season eleven years before. From Montgomery's smug expression, Gabriel surmised his lordship imagined his sister's connection would put him on a closer, more personal footing with Alathea.
"And Mr. Cynster!" The countess turned to him with an arch smile.
"Madam." Gabriel accepted the hand she offered him, bowed easily, and released her. Alathea's fingers slid from his sleeve. Without looking, he caught her hand, enclosing it within his grasp. She stilled. He could all but hear her wondering what he was about.
"Perhaps," the countess continued, ignoring the byplay, "we could stroll together?"
Alathea smiled. "Indeed-why not?"
Gabriel pinched her fingers, then made a great show of tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. She shot him a sharp glance, then turned to Lord Montgomery. "Is your mother well?"
Feeling distinctly unsocial, Gabriel turned to the countess. "How's Helmsley these days?"
The countess colored and slid around his wicked question. She paid him back by describing her offspring and their illnesses, a subject guaranteed to send any sane gentleman fleeing. Gabriel mentally gritted his teeth and refused to yield. As they strolled on, he noticed that Alathea kept her gaze fixed on Lord Montgomery, paying no attention whatever to all the gory details about the countess's three children. Knowing her as he did, knowing how closely she'd been involved with the care of her stepsiblings, he at first found that odd. Then they reached the Serpentine and he glanced at her face.
She kept it averted; he couldn't see her eyes. He could see the underlying stiffness in her features. Smoothly, he turned to the countess. "Do you plan to attend Lady Richmond's gala?"
The abruptness of the question made the countess pause, but she took to the new topic with alacrity. With a query here and there, he kept her engrossed in the social whirl, well away from the subject of children. His awareness centered on Alathea, he sensed the gradual easing of her tension. She had, indeed, given up a lot to save her stepfamily, far more than she would willingly let anyone know.
"I say! Lady Alathea!"
"My dear lady!"
"Countess, do introduce me."
A bevy of five gentlemen, including Lord Coleburn, Mr. Simpkins and Lord Falworth, swept up to them from behind; if Gabriel had been able to see them, they wouldn't have managed it, but now he and Alathea were caught.
Alathea sensed his increasing irritation. She glanced at him; he was regarding Lord Falworth with an impassive expression and a dangerous glint in his eye.
"Don't you think so, Lady Alathea?"
"Oh-yes." Recalling Falworth's question, she quickly amended, "But only in the company of close friends."
Dealing with her would-be suitors while knowing Gabriel was considering annihilating one or all of them played havoc with her normally unassailable nerves. Her relief was quite genuine when he closed his hand over hers, still tucked in his elbow, and halted.
"I'm afraid," he purred, at his most urbane, "that we must shepherd Lady Alathea's sisters and mine back to our mothers' carriages. You'll have to excuse us."
That last was said with enough underlying command to convince even Lord Montgomery that bowing and making extravagant adieus was the better part of valor.
Gabriel drew her ruthlessly away. He caught his sister Heather's eye and with one brotherly gesture redirected the group now well ahead of them back toward the avenue.
Side by side, strolling easily, their long legs a match for each other, they brought up the rear. Alathea sighed with relief.
Gabriel shot her a dark glance. "You could try to discourage them."
"I haven't encouraged them in the first place!"
They walked on in silence. As they neared the point where Serena's and Celia's carriages would come into view, Alathea slowed, expecting Gabriel to make his excuses and leave her. He tightened his hold on her hand and drew her on.
She looked at him in amazement. He cast her an irritated glance. "I'm not escorting them." His nod indicated the four girls and Esher and Carstairs ahead of them. "I'm escorting you."
"I don't need escorting."
"Let me be the judge of that."
His expression grimly resolute, that was all he deigned to say. Alathea was too surprised that he'd risk alerting his mother to any particularity between them to marshal any argument, and then they were within sight of the carriages.
With an inward sigh, she kept pace beside him. "This is not going to make things any easier, you know."
She thought he wasn't going to reply, but just before they reached his mother's carriage where Serena and Celia sat in matronly splendor, he murmured, "We left 'easy' behind long ago."
Then they were at the carriage, joining with the girls and Esher and Carstairs. Over the heads, Gabriel fielded a glance from Celia; Alathea, watching closely, could interpret with ease-Celia wanted to know why he was there. Gabriel returned her gaze impassively with a slight lifting of his shoulders, giving Celia to understand he'd simply come upon them and walked them back. Nothing particular at all. His performance was so smooth, if she hadn't known better, Alathea would have believed that, too. Gabriel nodded and Celia smiled, waving him away.
He turned to her-their gazes met. In the folds of her gown their fingers brushed. With a brief nod, he turned and strode away.
Alathea watched him go, a frown in her eyes, an increasingly insistent question revolving in her mind.
Chapter 15
That question was answered two nights later. The Duchess of Richmond's gala was one of the highlights of the Season. The Richmonds' house on the river was thrown open; everyone who was anyone attended. Alathea arrived relatively early with Serena, Mary, and Alice. Her father, out to dinner with friends, would look in later. Leaving Serena on a chaise with Lady Arbuthnot and Celia Cynster, Alathea hovered until the circle about Mary and Alice was established, Esher and Carstairs to the fore, then headed for a quiet nook by the wall.
Her attempt at self-effacement was frustrated by Lord Falworth, who spotted her in the crowd. Seconds later, her "court" closed in.
To Alathea's relief, not five minutes passed before Chillingworth joined them. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, the earl settled by her side, displacing Falworth, who sulkily shifted back. As large as Gabriel, Chillingworth had a similar effect on her admirers; challenged, they exerted themselves to converse intelligently.