Page 74 of A Winter Scandal

“What I know,” Thea began, crossing her arms and settling her level gaze on Gabriel, “is that Lord Rawdon went out into a snowy night to search for Matthew. I also know that Christmas is a time of peace and goodwill. I think it would be advisable if you remembered that, as well.”

A number of furious retorts crowded Gabriel’s mind, most of them about how he did not want Alec Stafford, Lord Rawdon, anywhere near Thea, but Gabriel had the good sense to keep the remarks to himself. Swallowing his anger, he unclenched his fists and said, “Of course.” He smiled at Thea, but the glance he turned on Rawdon was far less mild.

Rawdon gave him a look of faint amusement, then turned toward the others in Gabriel’s party, who had since caught up with him. “Lady Wofford.” He sketched a bow. “Gentlemen.”

“I would have thought morris dancing was a bit too common an entertainment for you, Lord Rawdon,” Gabriel commented.

“Ah, but that shows how little you know me, doesn’t it?”

Emily watched the dancers weave in and out in an intricate pattern, knocking their cudgels together, their feet all the while tapping out the jiglike steps. “How … quaint.” She gave Myles an amused smile. “Not exactly the Paris Opera Ballet, is it?”

“No, but somehow here in the country, we manage to make do with our trifling diversions.” Thea gave the other woman a sharp, short smile.

Myles glanced from Thea’s stony face to Emily’s startled one and smothered a grin. Damaris moved in, saying in a pleasant tone, “The steps are handed down from generation to generation. When we look at them, I believe we are glimpsing an England from centuries past.”

“Indeed, Mrs. Howard?” Myles was happy to play along with Damaris’s peacekeeping lecture. “Do tell us more.”

Gabriel turned to Rawdon. “I want to talk to you.”

“Indeed.” Rawdon eyed him thoughtfully for a moment, then moved closer to the house, stopping beyond the hearing range of the onlookers.

Gabriel followed him. As he moved, he cast a quick glance around the crowd until he caught sight of Matthew in Lolly’s arms, standing with Gabriel’s servant on one side of her and the indomitable Mrs. Brewster on the other. He relaxed a little.

“No one has approached him,” Rawdon said unexpectedly. “I have kept an eye on the nursemaid and his guard.”

Gabriel glanced at him, faintly surprised. “Thank you.”

Rawdon’s only reply was a shrug. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yes. I have been thinking about your arrival at the Priory the other day. Why did you come?”

If possible, the other man’s face became even more remote. “Why does that matter?”

“It simply does. I am not trying to attack you. I just want to know why you chose to visit the Priory.”

Rawdon’s jaw set, and for a moment Gabriel was sure Rawdon was going to refuse to answer him, but then with a bitter twist of his lips, Rawdon said, “Because, fool that I am, I wanted to see Jocelyn. I wanted to hear it from her own lips.”

“Hear what?”

“The truth.”

Gabriel frowned, but decided not to pursue that avenue of conversation for the moment, instead going back to his original concern. “But Jocelyn was not here. Why did you think she would be?”

“Because she told me she was going to see you. I went to London first, but they said at your club you had come here.”

“You talked to her?” Gabriel stiffened, staring at Rawdon.

“No, she wrote me.”

“Jocelyn had been corresponding with you?” The world seemed to tilt around Gabriel.

“No, of course not. I haven’t heard from her since she left last year. But a few days ago, I received a letter from her.”

“Why? Why would she write to you?”

“Because, unlike you, Jocelyn does not hate me,” Rawdon retorted acidly. “She wrote to ask my forgiveness, if you must know, and she said that she was traveling to see you.”

Gabriel felt as if his former friend had punched him in the heart. “Did you know about the baby?”