Chapter 40

T IMOTHY TRIED TO REDIRECT THE CONVERSATION to neutral subjects, but only he and Richard participated. With Drew just staring at Gabrielle, and she just staring at her plate, the tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. They left soon after, with Richard making a joking comment about being eager to get back to the hold, where the air wasn't so frosty. Her anger had prompted that remark. With her scandal on the table, as it were, there was no way Gabrielle could conceal that anger from the man who'd caused it.

Alone with him now, he sat back in his chair, his glass of wine in hand. And he was still just staring at her. Waiting for her to explode? Another few moments and she probably would have.

But he lifted a tawny brow first and said casually, "Odd how I wasn't the only one to guess, isn't it?"

"Guess?"

"Or maybe not so odd," he continued in the same tone, as if she hadn't raised a question and wasn't glaring at him. "I mean, look at the company you keep. And how often did you visit them in the seedier side of town?"

She snorted. "You don't know where my friends resided, and besides—"

"But I do," he cut in. "I followed you one afternoon. Not for any reason other than I was bored that day and, well, maybe a little curious. I must say I was a bit surprised at how easily you and your maid rebuffed those ruffians who tried to make your acquaintance that day. Thought I might have to reveal myself to intervene, but no, I suppose I'd back off, too, if I had two women angrily swinging their purses at my head. It didn't take me long to realize you must be used to that sort of attention."

She vaguely recalled the incident he was talking about, the day she'd gone down to the wharfs to warn Richard that Malory was going to murder him if he even so much as saw Richard again. She'd been very upset with Richard, enough to take it out on anyone who tried to delay her from reaching him so she could tell him just how upset she was over the very real threat now hanging over his head.

But what the devil did any of that have to do with the scandal that Drew had left her with? Or was he just trying to delay addressing that, or hoping he could entirely avoid giving her a reason for what he'd done? It was even possible that he didn't have a reason, that he'd just done it on a lark.

And then, in the same casual tone he was maintaining, he said, "You know, sweetheart, if I didn't make those assumptions about you myself, I never would have kissed you that day we went to the park."

That was so unrelated in her mind to the subject at hand that she couldn't fathom why he'd even mention it to her. And then she realized that the "subject" hadn't really been introduced yet, so he was talking about something else entirely. Or was he?

A bit confused now, she demanded, "Why?"

"Because if I thought you were a virgin, you'd be off-limits to me. So I convinced myself you weren't, for the simple reason that I had to taste you. To be honest, it was driving me crazy. Perhaps you can understand that, now that you've had a taste yourself?" She glared at him, causing him to shrug. "No? Well, at the time, I wanted you to have the morals of a pirate, because I knew that was the only way I could have you."

"And because of what you wanted, it was perfectly fine to ruin my good name in the country of my birth?" she fairly shouted at him.

He sat forward so abruptly that he sloshed his wine on the table.

She mimicked what he'd said that night at the ball. " ‘I wouldn't count on it, unless his father doesn't mind pirates in the family.' "

He laughed. "I was merely joking. And you said it yourself, that it merely embarrassed you."

"Of course it did, but no one there took it as a joke, you ass. What you said made the gossip rounds immediately. Everyone in London thinks I'm a pirate now. Because of you!"

"But you are a pirate."

"No I am not!"

She hadn't meant to say that and give up her ruse this soon. But she'd let her anger get in the way because he still didn't look the least bit contrite over what he'd done.

Defensive was all he looked, and sounded, when he pointed out, "What the hell do you think stealing my ship was, if not pirating?"

"Just desserts!" she snapped back. "You made sure I couldn't make a good marriage in England, so I took your ship as payback."

"So that was all lies you fed us, about your father needing rescuing?"

"No, that was killing two birds with one stone." She smirked. "A perfect solution for two dilemmas."

"One dilemma. You said that you prefer the islands. That's where you should have looked for a husband, not in England."

She gasped. Was he really trying to remove himself from blame with an excuse like that?

"It was my father's wish that I find a good match there. It's his hopes, as well as my own that are going to be crushed when he finds out that isn't possible now."

"He aspired too high for a pirate."

Her eyes rounded incredulously. "And you think that exonerates you? Forget about my father for a moment and consider what else you did with your joke. My mother's good name was without blemish. So was mine, for that matter, but in fact there's never been a scandal associated with her family. However, in blackening my name, you've also dragged hers through the mud."

Was that finally a remorseful blush rising up his cheeks? Obviously not, because all he said was, "Then she shouldn't have married a pirate."

It was the last straw. She stood up and leaned across the table to shout at him, "She didn't know, you bloody bastard! He took pains to make sure she never knew. I told you that! He took pains to make sure no one in England knew, and why, you might ask? To make sure her good name was protected! But without a moment's hesitation, you just blew all his efforts out of the water, didn't you? On a lark. No, wait, what did you call it? A joke!"

He actually flinched, then said with a sigh, "For what it's worth, that wasn't my intention, so I suppose an apology is in order."

"You suppose?" she bit out. "Well, I suppose you won't be surprised when I don't accept your apology. There's nothing you can do to make amends for what you've done, well, unless you help to rescue my father. Then I might, though probably won't, but might forgive you."

"Done," he said without hesitation. "But there'll be no ‘probably' about it. When he's freed, we're even."