Page 13 of Lily and the Duke
Gabriel knew the moment he entered the Marquis of Landers’s ballroom that belatedly deciding to accompany Chloe and his elderly aunt to the ball had been a mistake.
He knew that without a doubt because of the murderous rage which took possession of him when he glanced about the crowded room and saw Lily dancing and laughing in the company of a handsome young gentleman. Gabriel easily recognized him as Lord Andrew Maybury, the eldest son and heir of the Earl of Trowbridge.
Lily looked very beautiful this evening in a high-waisted gown of teal-colored silk. It had small puff sleeves and delicate gold braid stitched along the square neckline. Her curling dark hair was brushed back from her face and secured at her crown, with loose wisps in front of her ears.
Gabriel’s thoughts immediately strayed to speculating how long her hair would be when free of its confining pins.
Would those curling locks reach down to cover what he had many times this past week imagined being her ruby-tipped breasts?
Or would it be longer still, perhaps reaching the slenderness of her waist and beyond? Possibly even to the perfectly rounded cheeks of her bottom?
In either case, Gabriel resented seeing the young gentleman, in whose arms Lily was currently dancing, so much as receiving a smile from her. That resentment increased every time he witnessed the light clasp Maybury took of her gloved fingers when the dance called for them to meet before parting again.
“Did you say something, Papa?” Chloe looked up at him expectantly.
Which was when Gabriel became aware that he had been softly growling as he was forced to watch Lily dancing with any man who was not him.
Which, in turn, told him that the torment of wanting to claim Lily as his own had not dissipated in the slightest during this last week of not seeing or being with her.
But Gabriel had already known that.
How could he not when, before the morning of his departure to the countryside on Prinny’s behalf, he had worked Jacobson long into the night in a futile effort to stop thinking about Lily.
Jacobson had not complained at having his day off end in that demanding fashion.
But Gabriel had been forced to relent in his desire to distract himself when he realized the pale light of dawn was slowly creeping into the study window.
It had been a waste of his time and Jacobson’s effort anyway when Gabriel’s thoughts had refused to deviate from Lily and the kiss they had shared. Of how right it had felt when he held her in his arms. And tasted the sweet nectar of her plump lips.
His visit to the country to investigate one of the cabinet ministers he had been assigned had not been in vain, however. It had been a tedious journey and visit to the unsuspecting minister, but it had nevertheless resulted in Gabriel being able to reassure the Prince Regent as to that particular minister’s innocence.
Gabriel had hoped that being away from Lily, from even the possibility of giving in to the burning hunger he felt to kiss her again, would cause his desire for her to fade.
If anything, that need had deepened, until being with Lily again was all Gabriel could think about. All he hungered for or wanted.
Making a complete nonsense of that ridiculous saying “out of sight, out of mind” when Lily had not left his thoughts for a single moment.
“Oh, look, there is Lily,” Chloe exclaimed before giving a girlish giggle. “Maybury is so handsome and such a fine dancer,” she admired.
Gabriel had no time to snap his opinion of that gentleman before he found himself being pulled along in his daughter’s wake. Her elderly chaperone, Gabriel’s aunt, had no choice but to attempt to follow them as Chloe made her way determinedly around the edge of the dance floor to where the same group of friends who had met in the library at St. Albans House the previous week, all stood talking together.
Except Lily, of course.
Who was dancing.
With a man who was not Gabriel.
He and Chloe arrived beside the group at the same time that Lily was accompanied back to them by a very attentive Maybury.
The younger man’s eyes widened when he saw Gabriel. “Your Grace,” he acknowledged with a bow. “It is not often that we see you at these events.” He voiced the observation no doubt many in Society were already discussing, the ladies behind their fans and the gentlemen in lowered voices.
Gabriel gave him a coldly dismissive glance before turning back to the group of young ladies. “Would you care to dance, Lady Tremayne?”
Lily was excruciatingly aware that the whispers of gossip, on the dance floor and off it, had begun the moment the Duke of St. Albans stepped into the ballroom.
Indeed, the moment Lily saw him enter with Chloe on his arm, she had been unable to look anywhere or at anyone else. Gabriel—she still blushed when she referred to him that way, even if it was only in her thoughts—took her breath away with how magnificent he looked this evening in his tailored black evening clothes and snowy white shirt and neckcloth beneath a brocade waistcoat.
She assumed he must be here at Chloe’s request, knowing how persuasive her young friend could be and how indulgent her father was toward her.
