Looking around, Alathea beheld their hostess bearing down on them, a beaming smile on her face, her pale, clearly reticent daughter in tow. "Well, you are here, after all. She probably sees it as encouragement."
The sound Gabriel made was derisive.
Alathea arched a brow at him. "Shall I leave you to your fate?"
"Don't you dare. That poor girl always loses her tongue about me. God knows why. Conversing with her is worse than pulling teeth."
Alathea smiled as she turned to greet Lady Hendricks. Gabriel appropriated her hand and placed it on his sleeve, thereby denying her ladyship any chance of whisking her off and leaving him alone with her daughter. Lady Hendricks accepted the situation with a puzzled look, settling for gushing over his presence before retreating, leaving her daughter with them. Alathea, who was acquainted with Miss Hendricks, took pity on all concerned and kept the conversation rolling, never straying from any but the most mundane subjects.
After one warning glance from her, Gabriel behaved himself, consenting to chat with debonair charm. When the musicians next took to the dais and, under Gabriel's direction, they parted from Miss Hendricks, the young lady was actually smiling. Gliding through the room on Gabriel's arm, Alathea felt sure Lady Hendricks would be pleased enough to forget her earlier puzzlement.
"Esher and Carstairs are sitting with your sisters." Gabriel shot her a look as they passed out of the music room. "How's that coming along?"
"Very well." Halting in the foyer, Alathea drew her hand from his sleeve and turned to look ba
ck into the room. "Inside two weeks, I should think." Then she glanced at Gabriel, her expression growing serious. "Have you… heard anything about either of them?"
"No." He scanned her face. "I've already checked-they're exactly as they appear. Both are wealthy enough to marry as they choose, and in both cases their respective families should be more than content with their securing an earl's daughters as their brides."
"Thank heavens. I'd started to wonder if it was all too good to be true. I never imagined they'd both go off so easily." She looked back at her sisters. "This Season has proved far more felicitous than anyone could have expected."
His gaze on her face, on the delicate line of her jaw, Gabriel slowly nodded. He hesitated, then touched her arm. "Au revoir." Stepping past her, he left the house.
He found her in the park the following afternoon, a willowy vision in pale green. The fine fabric of her gown clung to her hips, swaying evocatively as she trailed in the wake of her sisters and, unfortunately, his. Esher and Carstairs were once more in attendance; Gabriel resigned himself to speaking to both in the next few days regarding their intentions. A subtle prod wouldn't hurt.
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?"