MARK TOOK HIS place next to Emma and smiled. “We won’t get to talk much,” he warned.
Emma giggled. “Yeah, I didn’t really plan that well. Plus, a quadrille. Yawn.”
“Oh, I don’t know. This one’s kind of fun.” He grinned. “Are we going to do some real dancing this week?”
She gave him a sideways glance. “Oh, we better. Of course, Hannah’s jonesing for it more than me, and I’ll have to take it easy, but if I can watch the two of you, I’ll be thrilled.”
“Right, no catching you mid-air.”
Emma groaned. “Please, don’t rub it in.”
The music started, interrupting further conversation, and Mark and Emma bowed to the couple facing them.
* * *
“Gabrielle, you are scowling,” her brother said.
Where did you come from?
“Am I?” she ground out.
“You are.” He held out his hand. “I believe this is my dance.”
“It is?” She checked her dance card and tried to hide her irritation. She smiled and laid her hand on his arm. “Oh, yes. So it is.”
He led her to the dance floor and leaned down. “Who were you scowling at?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Scowling, dear sister. Who were you scowling at?”
Gabby relaxed her face and forced a smile. “No one. Why would I be? It’s a lovely party and everyone’s very pleasant.”
“Hmm-mm,” he said, unbelieving. “Who’s that dancing with Emma Madden? I saw you dancing with him earlier.”
Gabby made sure she kept her expression mild. It wouldn’t do to admit she was attracted to the handsome stranger. “I believe his name is Mar—” she coughed to cover up her familiarity.
Theo slapped her on the back. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Excuse me. If I remember correctly, his name is Mr. Battaglia. I just met him tonight. He’s Mrs. Wade’s brother.”
“Ahh, so that’s the elusive Mr. Battaglia.”
She tried not to appear interested as she asked, “You know him?”
“Not personally, no,” he said.
“What have you heard?” she demanded, grabbing his arm.
Theo gave her a mischievous grin. “I heard he’s wealthy, but other than that, not much.”
“You’re lying,” she accused.
Her brother chuckled. “Perhaps.”
Gabby scowled at him. “Theodore, what do you know?”
“Why are you so desperate to learn about the man?”
“I’m not.” She focused back on the dance floor. “I’m simply curious.”
“Oh, Gabrielle, I think you’re forgetting with whom you’re speaking.”
The quadrille ended and Gabby was relieved that Theo was unable to continue his interrogation. He led her back to the tables and walked to his next partner.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Gabby jumped, surprised by the deep, sexy voice, and turned to face Mr. Battaglia.
He smiled. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No apology necessary.” She laid her hand on her stomach. “Mr. Battaglia.”
“Mark.”
She smiled. “Mark.”
“So. Are you having a good time?”
She nodded. “Yes. Very much.”
“I would have expected you to be dancing.”
“I decided to rest during this particular dance.”
“Are you feeling unwell?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. My partner was unable to dance.”
“Hmm.” Mark smiled. “I understand you’re Christopher Butler’s cousin.”
She couldn’t help but feel flattered that he’d enquired about her. “I am. Do you know him well?”
He shook his head. “I’ve only just met him. I have known Mrs. Butler for quite a while, however.”
Gabby smiled and tried to turn her attention to the dance floor. An awkward few seconds passed.
“I’m surprised by the sudden drop in temperature of late,” Mark said.
“Yes, it is quite cold.”
“Do you enjoy dancing?” he asked.
Gabby frowned. She’d hoped he might ask more interesting questions, rather than resorting to inquiries about her opinion of the weather and whether she liked to dance. “I do.”
“I apologize. Did I offend?”
“Not at all.” She glanced at her dance card. “I believe I’m taken for the next dance. Will you excuse me?”
“Just a moment.” Mark studied her for several seconds. “Will you answer one more question for me, please?”
Gabby forced a smile. “Yes?”
“Would you do me the honor of a walk tomorrow?”
She was admittedly surprised by the forwardness... but, delightedly so. His expression was one of mischief and she wanted to find out what was going on behind his big hazel eyes. Perhaps a walk with him would give her a few answers. “Yes. That would be lovely.”
Her dance companion claimed her and pulled her onto the dance floor. She watched as Mark approached Hannah and bowed to her. Gabby felt jealousy well up inside of her again as she watched her cousin’s wife laugh with Mark. Irrational, she acknowledged, but still, she wished she were in Hannah’s place.
The rest of the evening was a lesson in patience for Gabby. She berated herself for allowing her dance card to be filled so quickly, but she hadn’t expected Mr. Battaglia to invade her thoughts so effectively. As the festivities ended and it was time to head home, she felt quite sad that she hadn’t gotten another opportunity to speak with him. He was far too busy impressing all the other beautiful ladies at the party.
As she followed her brother to the front door, her breath caught to find Mr. Battaglia waiting with a few of the staff. He held her cloak and smiled as she approached. “May I assist?”
Gabby nodded. “Oh, yes. Thank you.”
Mr. Battaglia handed her the black winter gloves she’d chosen for the evening and then slipped her cloak over her shoulders. His strong hands on her arms as he laid the wool over her sent a shiver down her spine. His touch was almost enough to make her beg him to touch her again.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“My pleasure. I’ll see you tomorrow. Is ten agreeable?”
She nodded. “Very much so.”
Before she could slip into her gloves, he lifted her hand to his mouth. Gabby bit the inside of her cheek to stave off a sigh as his soft lips touched her knuckles. Oh, if only he would kiss her properly. She lowered her eyes when he smiled at her, almost as though he knew what she was thinking, and released her hand.
“Ready?” Theo asked with a raised eyebrow.
Gabby nodded and followed her brother from the house.
* * *
Mark arrived in the dining room the next morning to find Jamie, Travis, Sam, Quincy and Victoria, as well as Andrew and Gwen.
“Good morning, everyone,” he said as he poured himself coffee. “Is the rest of the gang sleeping?”
“Yep,” Victoria said. “I’d say it was because of the festivities last night, but the majority of them are typical lay-abouts, really.”
“I hope that wasn’t in reference to me,” Rayne said as she strolled in. The men stood and Rayne waved them back down.
“Well, since I don’t have Hannah to abuse, you’ll do,” Victoria retorted.
Rayne laughed and kissed her husband before taking her seat. Sam prepared her a plate and set it in front of her. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Sam said.
Sophie had insisted they serve themselves in the mornings, rather than having her staff do it, something the men were unused to, but seemed to be accepting.
Rayne sipped her coffee. “Mark, please tell me I get you for a few hours today.”
Mark grinned. “I think that can be arranged. Although, I do have an engagement with a very pretty young lady later this morning.”
“Ooh, who?” Rayne demanded.
“Gabrielle,” Quincy answered, a pinch in his voice.
“You’ve already heard?” Mark asked.
Quincy nodded.
“I wondered if that might happen. She’s just your type,” Rayne said.
Mark laid his fork down and narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by ‘my type’?”
“Blonde and stunning.”
“Hey, I’m all for brunette and stunning, too. Or redhead, for that matter. I’m an equal opportunity dater of any woman in the stunning category,” Mark quipped.
Rayne giggled. “That is true. Will Theo be acting as bodyguard?”
“No, why?” Mark frowned. “Uh-oh. Did I do something wrong? What’s the etiquette about asking a woman to go for a walk? Should I ask her father?”
“Her father’s not here, so, no.” Victoria provided. “You’re fine. You just happen to find Gabby attractive, and she just happens to be a Butler woman. They are few and far between and must be kept in gilded cages.”
“Rebel,” Quincy admonished.
“Oh, please,” she responded. “You know y’all watch your sister and cousins like a hawk. You’re worse than Sam is with Amelia.”
“Whoa.” Sam raised his hands in defense. “How did I get roped into this?”
Rayne giggled.
“All I’m saying,” Victoria clarified, “is that you men”—she squeezed Quincy’s leg—“including you, Gus, tend to be a little overprotective. And now that over-protectiveness has fallen onto Hannah and me.”
“Perhaps if our wives endeavored to do more of what they’re told to do, we wouldn’t have to be,” Quincy lobbed back.
Jamie, who had been quiet up until now, choked on his coffee.
“Oh, no, you di-int,” Rayne said, snapping her fingers in a Z formation at Quincy.
Quincy laughed and leaned over to kiss Victoria. She covered his nose and mouth with butter. He licked his lips and raised his fork covered in egg yolk.
Jamie stood. “Don’t even think about it, Quinn. Absolutely no food fights at my table. You do not want to make Sophie angry.”
“Why would I be angry?” Sophie asked as she walked into the room. “Why do you have butter all over your face, Quinn?”
The men stood.
“He made the mistake of telling Victoria she should obey him,” Jamie provided as he kissed her cheek.
Sophie chuckled. “Well, that makes you an idiot, Quincy Butler. And that’s a waste of really good butter.”
He nodded. “Yes, I’m well aware on both counts.”
“Please sit down,” Sophie said. “You don’t need to wait for me.”
Victoria smirked as she wiped the butter from her hand. “Anyway, Mark, let Gabby take the lead. She’s independent, which drives her family—not me or any of the other women, of course—but her male family, crazy.”
“Independent, how?” Mark asked.
“She thinks for herself and has opinions about the war that alienate her with her friends,” Victoria said.
“Excuse me?” Quincy said in surprise. “What do you mean, ‘has opinions about the war’? How exactly do you know this?”
“You don’t think your cousin hasn’t talked about this with Hannah and me?”
“I certainly didn’t expect that she would have talked to you in so much detail. That’s unlike her.”
“Oh, you have no idea, Gus. She’s so pickin’ smart, it’s not even funny.” She lowered her voice. “She even has some interesting ideas about Booth. Ideas that are more than accurate.”
“She’s talked about him?” Quincy asked in horror. “Where and when?”
“Quietly and only to us... a while ago now,” Victoria assured him. “We warned her that speaking about him to anyone else could be dangerous.”
“Damn it,” Quincy snapped. “Why did you encourage her? She shouldn’t be discussing it at all.”
“Why not?” Mark asked.
“Because she’s a woman—”
“Whoa, Quincy,” Victoria snapped. “She’s a woman?”
“Of this time,” he clarified. “She’s forgetting how she was raised.”
“Oh, wow,” Victoria said, and threw her napkin on the table.
“I’m just pointing out that Gabrielle should keep her opinions to herself,” Quincy tried to explain. “For her own safety.”
“Are you high?” Victoria snapped.
Quincy dragged his hands down his face. “Rebel, don’t.”
“Don’t what, Gus? Don’t speak my mind? Don’t stand up for Gabby? Don’t argue with you? Don’t question you?” Victoria scowled at her husband. “I didn’t realize I’d married a chauvinist... oh, wait, yes I did. You know those red flags people warn you about when you’re dating someone?”
Gwen’s mouth dropped open.
Quincy frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Victoria stood, the chair sliding back with a scrape. “Well, Hannah explained every damn one of them away and now I wished I’d gone with my gut.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
With a swish of her skirts, she was gone.
“Excuse me,” Quincy said, and rushed after her.
Silence reigned as Mark tried to process what he’d just seen. “So, is this how Gabby’s treated by the men in her family?”
“Yes,” Gwen said. “And it’s stifling.”
Andrew took his wife’s hand. “But to clarify, it’s because they care deeply for one another.”
Gwen removed her hand from his. “Or, it could be that my brothers and cousin are entirely too overbearing.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Gwen.”
“Much like most of the men of this century.” Gwen stood and left the room.
“Excuse me,” Andrew said, and followed her.
“Is there anyone else I can offend and drive from the dining table?” Mark asked.
“I blame Jamie,” Travis said.
“Me? What did I do?”
Sophie grinned. “It would seem you’re just too perfect, baby.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to say that, necessarily,” Travis admitted. “But you do listen to your wife and value her opinions, whether they are spoken in private or not. Some might say that’s not a good idea.”
“Wow. Seriously?” Jessica said from the doorway.
She turned and walked out the door again.
“I didn’t mean me, Jake,” Travis called as he rushed from the table. “Sweetheart, wait. Let me explain.”
“My sister’s in fine form, it would seem,” Mark observed.
“Pregnancy makes you nuts.” Sophie pushed her plate away. “She’ll be okay.”
Mark smiled. “She’ll calm down and all will be right with the world again. She just needs to process stuff verbally.”
Sophie giggled. “I’m kind of the same way, I guess.”
“Ha ha.”
He looked pointedly at her plate. “Is that all you’re going to eat?”
“Yep.” Sophie smiled and squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’m just tired. I’ll eat more later.”
“Why don’t you go and lie down. We were up late and Sarah’s got Junior handled for several more hours.”
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll see you all at lunch.” Sophie stood, as did the men, and after a quick kiss from Jamie, she left the room.
“Everything okay?” Rayne asked.
“Yeah. She just does too much, you know? But I can’t stop her. She loves it.”
Rayne smiled. “I know what you mean. I hope she feels well enough to sing with me later.”
“I’m pretty sure she’ll rally,” Jamie said, and rose to his feet. “Well, I have some paperwork to catch up on before lunch. Please continue to make yourselves at home.”
Once Jamie left, Mark excused himself to get ready for his “date.” He felt it strange to be walking to collect a woman for an outing, but cars hadn’t been invented and he had yet to procure a buggy, or learn to drive one. Travis had promised to help him with that the following week and he intended to take him up on the offer. He grabbed his coat and headed next door.
* * *
Quincy pushed open the bedroom door Victoria had just slammed in his face, closed it again, and leaned against it. His wife paced the room, her face pink with irritation as she mumbled words a lady ought not to know under her breath.
“Rebel.”
She held her hand up. “Not right now.”
Quincy rubbed his forehead. They’d had an incredible evening the night before, finally spending much needed time together uninterrupted, but the morning arrived and his wife was on edge, something not like her, and he was now receiving the brunt of that irritation.
She took a deep breath and faced him. “Do you believe Gabby should shut her mouth? Keep her opinions to herself and act like a dumb blonde, just to make the men in her life feel better?”
“I believe that she needs to be careful.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s a woman of this time, sweetheart.”
“What about me, then?” She patted her chest. “I’m now a woman ‘of this time.’ Am I supposed to act the idiot as well?”
“I have never asked you to be anything other than who you are, Victoria.”
“But you’d rather I keep my mouth shut, right?”
“Not with me,” he clarified. “You’ve never been a gossip, sweetheart, and you’ve also never said anything among our friends to cause me concern, so, no, I don’t want you to shut your mouth. But Gabby has had a few uncomfortable moments, and she’s lost friends over her words.”
“I know,” Victoria sighed. “She told me.”
“Yes, she told me as well.” Quincy smiled. “She talks to me quite a bit, Rebel. I consider her a friend, even though we’re related.”
She jabbed a finger towards him. “I hate it when you do this, Quincy.”
“Do what, sweetheart?”
“Act all calm and logical when I’m pissed off!”
He smiled. “Are you? I hadn’t noticed.”
“That is not going to work.”
“What?”
She made a circle with her finger. “The sexy smile and... your... I don’t know. Just you being all sexy. I’m mad at you.”
He stalked toward her, removing his jacket as he closed the distance. “How do I go about getting you un-mad at me?”
She backed up, bumping into the bureau by the window. She let out a frustrated squeal. “Stay right there, Quincy. I mean it. Do not come any closer.”
He paused, smiling as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Quincy,” she said in warning.
“Victoria,” he mimicked and stepped toward her again.
“Don’t.”
He grinned and grasped her waist, pulling her against his chest. “Don’t what?”
Quincy chuckled and then leaned down to kiss her.
She wove her hands into his hair and tugged, deepening the kiss. When they were both at the point of cease or commit, he broke the kiss. “Still mad?”
Victoria licked her lips. “Depends.”
“Sweetheart, you must know that I love you and that one of the reasons I do is because you’re independent and smart, not to mention beautiful. I don’t want you to change anything about yourself, but when it comes to my cousin—”
“Who is also independent and smart, not to mention beautiful,” she interrupted.
Quincy smiled. “Yes, she is, but she does not live with us, she lives with her father, who does not appreciate a woman who is ‘independent and smart, not to mention beautiful.’” He stroked her back. “She has to be aware of her surroundings at all times.”
“You don’t think she is?” she accused.
“No. I do think she is, which is why I was caught off-guard when you so publicly shared the conversations you’ve had with her in the past. It’s out of character for Gabrielle—which by no means, indicates I disagree with her sharing her thoughts privately with you, just to be clear.”
“So, ‘just to be clear,’ do you think she’s wrong in her opinions?”
“Not at all,” he stressed. “I just want you—and her—safe. Sometimes, opinions can cause others offense, and if either of you were to talk to the wrong person, it could be dangerous.”
“So, when we all get involved in the Women’s Suffrage Movement, are you going to have a coronary?”
“Rebel,” he sighed. “Yes, damn it, I’m going to have a coronary, but I won’t stop you from doing what you feel is right, and I’ll probably support you totally and completely, which baffles the hell out of me, quite frankly, but there it is. I happen to find you to be the most amazing woman on earth, and cannot deny you anything. It’s a vice.”
Victoria laughed. “I love you. You may be one heck of a terribly flawed man, but you’re my man.”
His stomach rumbled and he groaned.
“Are you still hungry?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. I was unable to finish my breakfast,” he said. “Due to, ah, how do you say...?”
Victoria kissed him. “Well, why don’t we satisfy a different hunger and then we’ll ring for the other.”
“I may be persuaded to oblige.”
“Of course, all of this has to be quick, because Rocky needs to be ridden.” She unbuttoned his vest and then his shirt. “What if I tell you what I’m not wearing under these skirts?”
He raised an eyebrow as she slid his clothing from his shoulders. “What are you not wearing?”
“I’m not wearing nineteenth-century undergarments.”
Quincy’s heart raced. “Oh?”
She smiled and kissed his chest. “I’m wearing something from my time, in a color that you seem to buy a lot of.”
Quincy swallowed.
She slipped her hands under the waistband of his trousers. “Now, close your eyes and let me make you forget all about breakfast.”
It didn’t take long before both their argument... and breakfast... were completely forgotten.