With that, he clapped his hat on his head. With a grimly determined nod, he strode off.
Alathea watched him go. A rush of relief poured through her. Dizzy, she sank back onto the bench. Five minutes later, Mary, Alice, and Augusta found her sitting there, smiling.
"Yes," she replied in answer to their query. "We can, indeed, go home."
She sent a summons to Brook Street the instant they reached home; Gabriel arrived as they rose from the luncheon table. Barely giving him a chance to greet the rest of her family, Alathea dragged him out to the gazebo.
As if in tune with her mood, the clouds had rolled away. The others followed them into the sunshine, spreading out on the lawn to relax and play, but no one attempted to follow them into the shadowed privacy of the gazebo.
"I presume," Gabriel said, following her up the steps, "that you're about to reveal the nature of your 'fantastic discovery'?"
"Captain Aloysius Struthers!" Alathea whirled and sank onto the sofa. "I've found him."
"Where?"
"The museum." Gleefully, she recounted their meeting. "And he's not only agreed to testify as to the falsity of Crowley's claims, but he says he can lay hands on verified maps, and also on details of the relevant mining leases." She gestured expansively. "He'll be even more help than we hoped for." Gabriel frowned. Surprised, she asked, "What is it?"
He grimaced. "I'd be content with the captain simply turning up before the judge-with his testimony to anchor our case, we won't need anything more."
"It won't hurt to have a few more facts behind us."
"Hmm. Did Struthers tell you where he's staying?"
Alathea drew a folded sheet from her pocket. "I copied his address for you. Will you go and see him?"
Gabriel read the address; his expression turned grim. "Yes. If he'd been staying in Surrey, I wouldn't have bothered, but, as it is, I think a visit might be wise."
"Why?"
"To warn him. If he goes nosing about asking after maps and mining leases, he's liable to alert Crowley. We might be nearing the eleventh hour, but Ranald Crowley is not an opponent I'd ever turn my back on."
"Indeed not, but the captain seemed to know him well."
"Nevertheless, I'll speak to the captain. It won't hurt to underline the need for secrecy." Sliding the note into his pocket, Gabriel looked at Alathea, then turned and sat beside her. "Which brings me to another point."
Shuffling to make space for him, she looked at him ques-tioningly.
"Don't go anywhere alone. Not until we have the decision handed down-no, not even then. Not until we know Crowley has left England."
"And I thought it was me who was melodramatic."
"I'm serious." Jaw setting, he took her hand. "Crowley is not some predictable English villain-he recognizes no law but that of the jungle. From the minute he learns of our plans until he returns to the jungle, or some other uncivilized place, you will not be safe." He trapped her gaze. "Promise me you won't go anywhere alone, and that, even in company, you'll restrict your outings to the purely social. No visits to the museum, or the Tower-no more searching at all. We have enough to defeat Crowley now. There's no reason whatever for you to place yourself in danger."
A gust of laughter had them both looking to where Charlie and Jeremy stood on the lawn, teasing Mary and Alice, seated on a rug.
"They're safe enough. While you remain within the ton, you'll all be safe-that's not an arena Crowley can move within without attracting immediate attention." Looking at Alathea, Gabriel squeezed her hand. "Promise me you'll take care."
Alathea looked into his eyes. She saw urgency and an unaccustomed softness in the hazel depths. "I'll be careful, but if-"
"No buts, no ifs." In a blink, all softness vanished from his face. Her knight-protector all but glared at her. "Promise."
A demand, no plea. Alathea glared back. "I'll be careful. I won't do anything silly. With that, you'll have to be content. I've never been yours to rule."
His expression, the granite hardness in his gaze, gave credence to his low growl, "You're treading on thin ice."
Yes, but what was underneath? Desperate to know, once and for all, Alathea returned his gaze haughtily. "I am my own person-not yours."
Hazel eyes fell into hazel. A long moment passed, then he looked away. His expression hardened as he gazed at Jeremy and Alice, Augusta and Mary. "Let me tell you what's going to happen after we gain our judgment against the Central East Africa Gold Company.
"First, we're getting married. Not in any hole-and-corner fashion, but right here, in the heart of the ton. St. Georges Church one fine June morning. After that, we'll divide our lives between London and Somerset-the Season in London, and various trips as required for business, but we'll spend most of the year at Quiverstone Manor. Aside from anything else, from there you and I can keep an eye on Morwellan Park and lend a hand if Charlie needs it. And you'll be there to watch Jeremy and Augusta grow. We can sponsor Augusta for her come-out, and while in London you'll be able to catch up with Mary and Esher, and Alice and Carstairs.
"In between, you can learn about those of the Manor's tenants you don't already know, and help Mama with all the thousand and one things she does about the estate, so you'll be ready to step in when she eventually flags. And there are Heather, Eliza, and Angelica, who, as you well know, will be thrilled to call you sister. You could try teaching them not to giggle-God knows, Mama hasn't managed it yet.
"The east wing will have to be redecorated, too. I never did more than order the old furniture cleaned. I don't even know the state of half of it, although my bed there is sound enough."
Alathea swallowed the question, "Sound enough for what?" The answer was not long in coming.
"And if all that doesn't keep you sufficiently amused, I have a number of other distractions planned-at least three sons and any number of daughters." Turning his head, he met her gaze. "Yours and mine. Ours. Our future."
She held his gaze steadily, and prayed he couldn't see how much the thought tugged at her heart.
"Picture it-us sitting under the old oak on the south lawn, watching our children play. Hearing the shrill voices, the laughter, the cries. Picking them up to soothe them, to comfort them, or perhaps just to hold them." He searched her eyes, his own hard as agates. "You've always liked children, you always expected to have a tribe of your own. That was always your dream, your destiny. You gave it up for your family, but now fate's handing it back to you." His gaze raked her face, then, as if satisfied with what he saw, he sat back and looked across the lawn. "I know you too well to believe you'd turn your back on that dream a second time."
His confidence tweaked Alathea's temper, but she shrugged the temptation to ire aside. His words-his pronouncement-should have chilled her; there'd been no loverlike softness in his words. He'd been all warrior-logical, practical-her knight-protector carrying her off to a new beginning, for which she should be duly grateful and acquiesce to all his decrees.
It was enough to make her laugh, but she didn't. If he'd been charming, presenting his arguments with the light, airy touch of which she knew he was capable, her heart would have sunk without trace. That was how he behaved in matters that did not touch him deeply. Instead, he'd presented her with his warrior side, all impenetrable granite and impregnable shield. She had to wonder what he was shielding. Lifting her chin, she fixed her gaze on his profile. "And what about us? You and me. The two of us together. How do you see us?"
The question hit a nerve. His swift frown, an infinitesimal tensing of muscles otherwise under rigid control, told her so.
"I see us in bed," he growled, "and in a few other places, too. Do you want to know the details?"