Chapter 18

"M ISS B ROOKS, MAY I BE FRANK?"

Gabrielle hadn't really been paying attention to Wilbur Carlisle, who was twirling her about the dance floor in Lady Dunstan's large ballroom. This was her third ball since she'd come to London, and the gown for this one almost didn't arrive in time.

It was pale lilac in color. Margery even dug out an old necklace of Gabrielle's that her mother had given her years ago, in the hopes it would cheer her up. It was a miniature painting of an English coastline that depicted a small fishing village very like the one close to where she'd grown up, so she'd always assumed the miniature depicted that village. Hung on a chain of pearls, the small oval painting was frame by a border of tiny roses that nearly matched the lilac silk of her gown. If she'd been in better spirits, she would've been pleased at how well the necklace complemented her gown.

She'd almost begged off from going out tonight, just as she'd done the last two nights. She'd pretended not to be feeling well, enough so that she wouldn't have to leave her room. It was a lie, but Georgina didn't question her too much about it after Gabrielle implied it had to do with her monthlies. And besides, she might not really be sick, but she certainly felt sick at heart.

She'd been staying in her room in order to avoid Drew. Finding out what he really thought about her last week had hurt her terribly. She could try to correct his opinion, but she had a feeling he wouldn't believe her. The aversion his family had for pirates ran too deep. And there was nothing she could do about that. They were seamen in legitimate trade. Of course they'd hate the men who tried to steal that trade from them.

But did he have to paint her with the same brush, and assume she was a woman of loose morals because of her parentage? And yet, what had she done to prove otherwise? Drink with him? Let him kiss her and caress her? She winced at the memory of her own wanton behavior. In trying to get to know him better, she'd actually reinforced his low opinion of her, so it was her own fault.

God, she wished she hadn't been so flustered that she'd gulped down that glass of port that night in the parlor. It had gone right to her head. She never should have let him take such liberties, wouldn't have if she'd been clearheaded, well, she liked to think she wouldn't have, but oh, God, everything he'd done, his touch, his kisses, it had been so nice she hadn't wanted any of it to end. But it had meant nothing to him. If she'd learned anything from that night, it was that she'd been a fool to even consider a cad like him for her husband.

And her feelings had just got more and more downtrodden as the week had progressed, until it got so bad she had trouble concealing them and so she hid in her room instead. Drew had made no further overtures to her, not even in jest. In fact, it seemed as if having reminded himself of her background that night, he utterly regretted having made any at all. He'd continued to escort her and his sister to whatever party was on the agenda, but he'd also continued to desert them as soon as they'd arrived where they were going.

And she even saw him pursuing several other young women, not just once, but twice, at two different parties they attended. He didn't even try to be subtle about it. It was as if he wanted her to notice!

His sister noticed, too. Unfortunately, Georgina also noticed the effect it had on Gabrielle and took her aside to tell her, "I've been rather thoughtless in not warning you sooner about Drew. I forget sometimes how handsome he is and how easily he breaks hearts without even trying."

"It's all right. He hasn't broken mine," Gabrielle replied, forcing herself to smile.

"Good, then I'm not too late in mentioning it. I'm sure he likes you, I just don't want you to get the wrong impression and think something might come of it. It won't. While our family would love to see it happen, he's made it clear he has no intention of ever settling down."

Georgina had the best of intentions, but she wasn't telling Gabrielle anything she didn't already know. Changing Drew's firm commitment to bachelorhood had been the plan, but it wasn't looking very promising. He'd formed some wrong impressions about her somehow, and in the coach, coming and going, she'd never been alone with him to discuss his false assumptions.

But she was tired of hiding, and tired of bemoaning the fact that the one man she was seriously attracted to was the one man she couldn't have. So be it. She'd come to London to find a husband and that was exactly what she was going to do, and Drew Anderson could go to Hades for all she cared!

Drew didn't join her and Georgina for the ball tonight. Boyd was their escort, but Boyd had lost all interest in her apparently. Because he'd witnessed her kissing his brother? It didn't matter. He hadn't been on her list anyway.

She was glad now that she had decided at the last minute to attend the ball. With Drew off her list, she had this opportunity to learn more about the Honorable Wilbur Carlisle. So she ought to actually listen to him, she supposed.

He hadn't waited for her to approve his frankness; he was telling her, "I wanted to assure you of my intentions. I don't want you to think that like some of these other chaps, I'm here in London merely to enjoy the Season. On the contrary, and I hope you can keep this just between us, I have been sent here for three years now, to find a bride."

"I suppose I can assume you've had no luck so far?" she queried politely.

"Indeed, none. Not that I haven't applied myself earnestly. But for one reason or another, well, I'm either always too late, or I'm not interested enough to appear convincing."

Three years? she thought. How depressing. Or maybe he didn't really want to get married.

She decided to be just as frank as Wilbur. "Do you really want a bride, Wilbur?"

He sighed. "I do, actually. But the pressure has been tremendous and is even worse now. You see, my father has informed me that if I don't bring home a bride this year, I needn't return home a'tall."

"Good heavens, really?"

"He's not in the best of health," he explained. "He wants to see me settled before, well, I do understand his position. I'm his only son, after all."

She began to feel uncomfortable with the direction Wilbur's frankness was taking. She wasn't ready to make a decision yet, even if the Season was almost over. If he proposed before she was ready, she had no idea what her answer would be.

"Wilbur, why are you telling me all this?"

"I just want you to keep me in mind, m'dear, and to assure you that my intentions are very honorable. I confess I was in such despair before you arrived. Nearly the end of the Season and my only prospects were, well, not to my liking. Then you appeared, like a breath of fresh air. Dare I say I was quite smitten?"

It was about time in his dissertation that he got romantic. No, wait, why was she nitpicking? He was a very eligible bachelor and the only one she hadn't discounted out of hand. The others she'd met were either too proper, too snobbish, or too much the dandy for her tastes. And Wilbur seemed to be a nice man, too.

He was also quite witty when he wasn't worrying over making confessions like tonight, or who her sponsor was. Before Malory's name had been mentioned when they first met, he'd been relaxed and very charming, and more romantic. She should be delighted that he was still available, for whatever reason, and simply consider herself lucky that he was. He was a fine catch, after all, and very handsome even if he was rather pale. Well, actually, his skin was so white it seemed odd to her.

She sighed to herself. It wasn't the first time she'd thought that since she'd come to London. With everything else she found wrong with the men she'd met, too many of them were pallid in complexion, as well, and at the tail end of summer! But it wasn't their fault that they looked odd to her, and as Margery had pointed out, a little sun could correct that easily enough. She was simply too used to men whose complexions were deeply tanned because they spent a lot of time outdoors. Yet not everyone enjoyed the outdoors as much as she did. Not everyone could be as perfectly tanned as a sea captain either…

Her eyes were drawn to Drew the moment he entered the room. Goodness, even after taking him off her list, where she never should have put him to begin with, she could still be mesmerized by the sight of him. And her stomach was already starting to flutter. What the deuce was it about him that caused that? Did she really want to give up on him just because of assumptions he'd made? When a little talk between them would clear the air and prove he was wrong about her?

How could she even hold the conclusions he'd drawn against him? Her father was a pirate. And her association with pirates had educated her about matters a young lady of good breeding would never know of until after she was married. So the only thing Drew was actually wrong about was the state of her virginity. A logical mistake.

Oh, dear, she was talking herself into putting him back on her list. Dare she? She'd rather not be disappointed by him again. That had hurt. But what if he didn't hurt her feelings again? What if he apologized and admitted how foolish he'd been to assume the worst about her?

The dance ended and Wilbur was leading her back to Georgina. "It seems I'm never allowed enough time with you," he said with a charming twinkle in his eye. "I hope you'll join me for a walk in the garden later, so we can continue our conversation?"

Distracted now with her eyes on Drew, Gabrielle merely nodded. Having spotted his sister in the crowd, Drew was heading toward her, too. Gabrielle didn't think he had seen her yet, but then their eyes met, and he collided with a few people who were in his path.

She frowned upon seeing that. Clumsy? A sea captain? Maybe he was clumsy when he first stepped off his ship after a long voyage, but seamen usually had a keen sense of balance. They had to, because they constantly had to maneuver on ever-pitching decks.

As she approached Georgina, she noticed that her benefactress was speaking with Lady Dunstan, their hostess, who as Georgina had reminded her before their arrival, was one of the ton's worst gossips. That lady's presence managed to distract her from thinking about Drew. She had to pay close attention to every word out of her mouth now to make sure she didn't say anything inappropriate. According to Georgina, a woman like Lady Dunstan could make or break a debutante without even trying.

"Ah, here she is," Lady Dunstan said with a smile for Gabrielle and then a quick frown at her escort. "And you, dear boy, really must stop monopolizing Miss Brooks—or do you have news of an impending marriage that will finally please your father?"

Gabrielle winced for the fellow. So his frank confession wasn't such a secret after all. Apparently it was common knowledge. Regardless, their hostess was definitely putting him on the spot. Gabrielle had never heard such blatant fishing. No matter what Wilbur answered, he'd be giving the lady a juicy tidbit of gossip to chew on.

But a new voice intruded, slightly slurred, definitely snide. "I wouldn't count on it, lady, unless his father doesn't mind pirates in the family."

Lady Dunstan gasped, hearing that. Wilbur paled. Georgina was rendered speechless for a moment. Having scolded her brother more than once for using that word in public in reference to Gabrielle, she was staring at him incredulously because he'd just done it again.

Gabrielle was simply furious and the glare she turned on Drew wouldn't let him doubt it. He was drunk, and even drunk he was so damned handsome. But what shocked her more than what he'd just said was the bright spark of desire in his midnight-dark eyes as he looked directly at her.