Page 24 of Unmask Me My Love

“My lord.” Tate, the butler, had appeared on the steps.

Damn. Too late. “Yes?”

“Lady Hamilton would like a moment of your time, if you will.”

With a sense of dire foreboding, Hal dragged his feet up the stairs.

Chapter 10

“Are you certain, Lady Celinda, that the marquess will not mind us taking his carriage?” Gabriella had been astounded when the lady had urged her down the front steps and into the sleek landau with a large crest emblazoned on the side. “I would not wish to get Horace…Monsieur Carpenter, rather, in any trouble with his master. He did instigate this outing.”

“Do not worry yourself, Miss d’Aventure,” Lady Celinda said with a strangled laugh and an odd twinkle in her bright blue eyes. “The marquess would insist upon it if he knew of our need. And he would certainly curse the hack that did not appear as promised.” She screwed her mouth into a pout then shook her head and relaxed into the luxurious, black leather seat. “We can send a footman with a note when we reach the house. It is quite near Lady Hamilton’s. Just there.” She nodded as they turned a corner onto a fashionable square of streets, with a magnificent garden in bloom at their center. A large statue of a man on a horse graced the middle of the square.

Gabriella nodded and leaned back, trying to relax despite the nerves that had been singing in her veins since dawn. Her breath quickened, and her mind raced ahead to the meeting she’d imagined a thousand times. How would the duke look up close? Would he remember her mother? And more important, would he believe her story? With answers so temptingly close, Gabriella could fix her mind on nothing for more than a few seconds. She squeezed her hands together as the clop, clop of the horses’ hooves on the stone pavement slowed to a stop.

“See?” Celinda smiled at her and patted her arm. “We are here already,” she said, as the footman handed them down. “And in good time, it seems. Has the Duke of Rother arrived, Albert?”

“No, my lady.” The footman kept his eyes on Gabriella as he helped her from the carriage. The servant’s solicitude pleased her very much. She must be careful not to tear or dirty her dress now.

“Very good.” Lady Celinda paused in the foyer to scribble a note. “Albert, run this to the Marquess of Halford. He is at Lady Hamilton’s. You know the direction?”

“Yes, my lady.” The tall footman bowed, took the note Lady Celinda thrust at him, and left at a trot.

“Come.” Lady Celinda beckoned her up the stairs. “We have a moment until the duke arrives. Would you like me to order tea?” They had reached the landing of the first floor, and the lady cast a critical eye over her.

Gabriella stopped then shook her head. “I do not think I could take a sip of anything at this moment, my lady.”

“I think you are worried for nothing.” Lady Celinda smiled, nodding her approval. “May I ask who created such a beautiful gown, Miss d’Aventure? It is quite the loveliest creation I’ve seen this Season.”

Relief mixed with pride made Gabriella smile and smooth her skirts. “I made it myself, my lady. I knew this day would come and so have worked toward making it perfect. I want my appearance to be a credit to the duke.”

“I think you succeeded admirably, Miss d’Aventure. Should you ever decide to open a modiste’s shop, I promise to be your first and best customer.” Lady Celinda laughed, and they continued down the corridor. “Just here on the right.” She indicated a stout door slightly ajar. “Although I suspect if all goes well today, your days of sewing will be quite at an end.” The lady led Gabriella into a spacious room, furnished with delicate white-and-gilt chairs and sofa, with walls covered in pale paper striped pink and green.

“Lady Celinda, will you now tell me what this clandestine meeting is all about?”

Gabriella jumped and almost ran into Lady Celinda’s back. The deep, masculine voice boomed from the far end of the room. She peeped around the lady, trembling in earnest now.

“I…I… Good afternoon, Your Grace.” Lady Celinda curtsied and started forward, leaving Gabriella exposed like a fish out of water.

The Duke of Rother stood before the cold fireplace, tall as a giant in Gabriella’s mind. Dressed impeccably, in elegant blue jacket and buff leather breeches that fit his lean form excellently, the man she’d dreamed of all her life finally stood before her, like a fairy story come true. Dark hair curled at his neck, and brilliant blue eyes—eyes she saw every day when she looked in a mirror—now watched Lady Celinda from beneath vexed brows.

“I beg your pardon, Your Grace. The footman told me you had not arrived, else our entrance would not have been so informal.” Lady Celinda motioned to Gabriella, but her feet seemed stuck to the plush carpet. The lady reached back and hauled her forward.

Gabriella plodded toward the duke, her heart pounding unevenly, her hands icy at her sides.

“It was such a brilliant day, I elected to ride rather than take the carriage. Never pass up the opportunity to—” He glanced past Lady Celinda to Gabriella. His mouth opened, slack-jawed, and his eyes grew wide. His face paled as though he’d seen a ghost. “Veronique?”

The utterance of her mother’s name broke the spell.

Gabriella sailed forward and swept a low curtsy before him. “Non, Your Grace.” She rose and stared straight into the shocked face. “Gabriella Veronique Marie d’Aventure. I am Veronique’s daughter.” Summoning all her courage, she swallowed and said, “I am your daughter, Your Grace.”

The duke stared at her, taking in her form from top to toe as the color slowly seeped back into his face. “Veronique’s daughter.” The amazement in his voice calmed her.

“Oui, Your Grace. My mother has told me much about you…about your journey to Angouleme, where you met her twenty years ago.”

“Veronique.” He closed his eyes, a smile touching his lips. “My God. Has it been twenty years?” His face changed, alarm furrowing his brow, and his eyes flew open. “Is your mother…?”

“She is well, Your Grace.” How wonderful that he remembered her, seemed concerned about her welfare after so long. A thrill of hope shot down her spine. “She has returned to her father’s home in Angouleme after the death of her husband last year.”