CHAPTER 8
G abe shook his head and wondered, not for the first time since he’d returned to England, if Christian really had lost his mind. Of course, that was the rumor sweeping across Town, that Lord Kelling had returned from the war quite mad. But while his friend seemed to possess all of his faculties most of the time, there was simply no good reason to shop so publicly for daggers. It was almost as though Christian wanted his Covent Garden activities to be found out.
“You really think it’s a good idea to give your former commander that for his birthday?” Gabe asked after the clerk had left them to look over an ornate dagger with an impressive blade and ormolu handle.
Christian tested the weight of the weapon, tossing it slightly in the air, and his expertise with the dagger could not possibly be missed by anyone who cared to give them notice. “Throssell is the one who taught me the art of throwing these.”
Which should probably never be admitted in public. Of course, Christian had always been the most reckless member in their set of friends.
“Seems an excellent choice, I think.”
Gabe shook his head. “And I think you’ve lost whatever good sense you once had.”
Christian cast him a dark expression, one he was certain more than a few criminals had encountered when facing the Covent Guard in the dead of night. “I beg your pardon?”
Gabe heaved a sigh. “I would just think, that all things considered, it might not be the best gift you should give the man, or anyone else for that matter.”
“It’s a decorative piece,” Christian returned. “I hardly think it will be noted upon.” Then he gestured toward the sales clerk across the way. “If you can have this boxed up for me,” he called.
Gabe glanced in the same direction and through the open partition, he spotted her in a connected room filled with lace, silks and gloves. Dear God. Sophie was here? His breath caught a little in his throat and he couldn’t pull his gaze from her. She truly was like an oasis for his soul, a beacon of light in the darkness.
Christian said something, though Gabe had no idea what it was. How could he be expected to carry on any sort of conversation when she was so close in proximity? Even all dressed in black, she radiated like the brightest of lights. The golden hues of her hair pulled up just so, the porcelain of her complexion, the brightness in her eyes. And after the awful morning he’d experienced, simply catching a glimpse of her lightened his heart more than a bit.
A moment later, or perhaps it had been a lifetime, Christian clapped a hand to Gabe’s shoulder and muttered under his breath. “She’s why you’re not answering me, hmm?”
“What did you say?” Gabe asked as he kept his gaze focused on the one ray of light he’d seen all day. Sophie, a balm for all the ails of the world, or perhaps for just his soul.
“It hardly matters,” Christian replied. “Why don’t you go talk to her instead of standing here and gaping like an idiot?”
Because he didn’t have any right to see her. Because his life was more than complicated these days. And because even after all these years, she still deserved better than anything he could ever offer her. But, “Greywood’s courting her,” is what he said instead.
Christian snorted in response. “They’re not betrothed. No reason you can’t steal her away from him if you’re of a mind.”
“Oh?” Gabe did look at his friend then. “And offer her what, should I be successful?” A penniless future earldom and sharing the care of Gabe’s deranged brother? And the hope that no one else learned the entire thing was one rather large deception that could explode around them at any time?
Christian shrugged. “Well, how about just a pleasant conversation at the moment? It seems you could both use that.”
Both of them? What had Christian seen that Gabe had missed? He returned his gaze to find Sophie’s brow furrowed just slightly and the smile she usually wore was nowhere to be found. Was something wrong? Had something happened?
Christian shoved him toward the open partition. “Go on. You clearly want to see her.”
And he had, nearly every day that he was gone.
Sophie selected a pair of gloves and ran her fingers over the lace facing. It was a bit scratchy, wasn’t it? She put the pair back and started instead toward a dark silk that caught her eye, but just as she reached it, she felt something, almost as though someone was watching—
“I see you opted for a dress today, Miss Hampton.”
The deep timbre of Gabe’s voice swirled around Sophie, and a shiver rippled across her skin. Good heavens! Would he always have that affect on her? She swallowed a bit nervously before turning on her heel to gaze up into his warm hazel eyes and breathe in that familiar sandalwood scent of his. Looking at him now, it was almost as though he’d never left. He looked so much like the Gabe she had fallen for all those years ago; though there was a bit more gold in his sandy hair and he was a bit more filled out than he had been in those days, but her heart beat a little faster at the sight of him.
Goodness, she needed to be careful and guard her heart better than she had when she was younger. Because he had left her and she needed to keep that in the forefront of her mind. It was 1816, not 1812 and she was no longer that foolish lovesick girl. Or at least she was determined not to be this time around.
“Major Prideaux,” she said and was relieved when her voice sounded smooth and unaffected to her own ears. “What a surprise.”
“A happy one, I hope,” he returned. And even though the tips of his lips turned up to a smile, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something was bothering him.
It was on the tip of Sophie’s tongue to ask what was wrong, but no matter what was bothering him, it wasn’t her concern. He’d made that quite clear when he’d left, and she needed to remember her place or she’d end up brokenhearted all over again.
“Until yesterday, I hadn’t realized you’d departed Canada.” Blast it! Why had she said that? Now he’d think she’d been pining away for him all these years. What a foolish, foolish thing to have said! Of course, she had pined away for him longer than she should have, but she didn’t want him to know that. He was the one, after all, who’d left her.
“I’ve been back a fortnight.”
A fortnight? An entire fortnight and he hadn’t sought her out even once? Sophie’s heart stung at hearing that truth. Though why should her heart still sting? He’d left her four years ago when she’d begged him to take her with him. And look how that had turned out. He probably hadn’t even thought about her once in the last four years, and he clearly hadn’t thought about her over the last fortnight.
“And now you’re back, shopping for lace these days, are you?”
He laughed at the suggestion as he gestured across the way to Lord Kelling who was discussing something with one of the store’s clerks. “My friend dragged me along to help him look for something and then discounted my advice once we arrived. A complete waste of time, actually.”
“That seems to be the way of things today,” she grumbled slightly as her argument with Cassie echoed once more in her ears.
“Does it?”
She certainly wasn’t going to go into the particulars of her sister always making a cake of herself with Gabriel Prideaux. “It’s of no matter. Feel free to ignore me.”
“I could never ignore you, Miss Hampton.”
Except that he had done that very thing, hadn’t he? And for a very long time. “And, yet, you are better at it than most, Major.”
“Is that what you think?”
Was he going to suggest otherwise? Perhaps someone else might believe him, someone who hadn’t been there. “It is what I know.” Even still, the very last thing Sophie was going to do was get into some sort of argument over the fact with him in pubic. Luckily, Lord Kelling seemed to be done with the store clerk. So she gestured to his friend once more. “It appears his lordship has finished his transaction. Do not let me keep you.”
A muscle ticked in Gabe’s jaw as though he was annoyed, but what right did he have to be annoyed at anything? Did he expect her to have fallen at his feet when he returned to England? Beg him to pick up where they’d left off? He’d been home a fortnight and had made no attempt to see her or to even let her know he’d safely returned. If one of them had a right to be annoyed, it was her.
“He can wait,” Gabe said, his brow creasing just a bit. “After all these many years, Sophie, aren’t you glad to see me at all?”
“I am glad to see you’re well,” she said, her voice a little more than a whisper. And she truly was happy that he hadn’t been injured or killed during his many campaigns.
“I am glad to see you’re well too.” Gabe seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “And seeing you is the most pleasant of diversions.”
She was a diversion now, was she? There was something quite insulting about that, as though she was only worth his notice when she was nearby. Sophie tipped her chin back and met his hazel gaze directly. “Indeed? Then it’s a wonder that you let an entire fortnight pass, Major.” Then she shook her head, wishing she hadn’t said that, hoping he wouldn’t realize how deeply it hurt that he hadn’t sought her out. “I really must find my sister. Do excuse me.”
And then she turned on her heel before he could see even one traitorous tear could slip down her cheek.