Page 33 of Scoundrel for Sale
At least that was true. When he chanced a glance at Abbie to see if he’d succeeded in dissuading her, he found that she had turned to face the wall.
Guilt rose like bile in his throat. Maybe it had been a mistake to deny that he loved her.
Although… God, if he couldn’t bear to hurt her now, in this small way, how would he feel knowing he had ruined her life by giving her hope when there was none?
He didn’t know what the hell to say, what the right thing was. He lay there, his brain scrambling for anything he could say to make the situation better and coming up blank.
Abbie solved his dilemma for him. “I’m tired,” she announced, reaching for the bedside lamp with fumbling fingers. “And I have another legal hearing first thing in the morning. Let’s get some rest.”
Gabe grunted his assent, but sleep did not come easily. He lay for hours, staring at the ceiling in the shadowy moonlight.
Abbie might be mere inches away. But she felt as far away as she’d been the last nine years.
Chapter 15
The following morning, beneath the brave face Abbie put on for Gabe’s benefit, her emotions were a jumbled mess, veering from despondency to acceptance to humiliation, all within a span of two minutes.
She wasn’t sorry she had told him that she loved him. Hart’s death had taught her that life was too often short. However many years she had left, she wanted to live them bravely, and she wasn’t unwilling to take a risk by confessing her feelings to Gabe.
Still, was there anything more humiliating than telling a man you loved him and him not saying it back? A part of Abbie was glad that, after tossing and turning for hours, they overslept the following morning, so that she had to hurriedly dress for today’s hearing. As much as she would’ve liked to make love to him one final time, she wasn’t sure that she could go through with it—at least, not without bursting into tears.
She sneaked a sideways peek at Gabe as they made their way toward the hearing room. He had insisted upon accompanying her to Westminster Hall, muttering that if there was any chance she was going to accept Nigel’s proposal, he was going to make it clear that there would be consequences if her new husband did not treat her well.
They had just found a bit of space to wait outside the hearing room when a flurry of murmurs went up from the far end of the hallway. Abbie joined those who surrounded her in craning her neck, trying to see the cause of the commotion.
Gabe suddenly broke out into a grin. “Well, I’ll be damned!”
Abbie wasn’t tall enough to see over the crowd. “What is it, Gabe?”
“Not what. Who.” He looked down at her, and his grin was so bright, he was practically glowing. “It appears your prayers have been answered.”
Abbie tilted her head. Her prayers? What on earth did Gabe mean by that? Hadn’t he been the one to dash her every hope the night before?
“De Noronha!” Gabe called, waving a hand overhead. “Over here!”
Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Had Abbie misheard? Had the stress finally gotten to her, causing her mind to break? Because it sounded like Gabe had said… like he had just said…
The man who came striding down the hall was an officer, and at first glance, his dark blue coat trimmed with gold braid brought to mind the Royal Navy. But then Abbie noticed the shako he carried under his arm, the bright red sash at his waist, and the white tassels bouncing against his hip, all of which marked him as an officer of the Portuguese army.
He was younger than Gabe, perhaps around Abbie’s age, and handsome, with silky black hair and fine dark eyes. His figure was trim and he was of medium height, but he had impeccable posture and an air of command that drew every eye in the crowded hallway.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” Gabe cried, clasping the man’s hand and pumping it. “Bloody hell!”
A few heads jerked in Gabe’s direction at this profanity. “Sorry,” Gabe called in response to the disapproving looks. “Just left the army. Still adjusting to polite society.”
He turned back to the man in uniform. “I’ve never been so glad to see you.”
His friend replied in English seasoned with a musical accent. “Not half as glad as I was to see you during the Battle of Vitoria, I daresay.”
Gabe ducked his head, leading Abbie to wonder what had him feeling so embarrassed. He was already turning to her. “Allow me to present my good friend and comrade-in-arms, Captain Santiago de Noronha of the Second Portuguese Infantry Division.”
“Oh, no!” Captain de Noronha seized Abbie’s hand and gave her a seductive smile. “When a man meets such a beautiful woman, he wishes to hear his own name upon her lips.” He pressed a lingering kiss upon the back of Abbie’s glove, and when he lifted his head, his eyes simmered. “You, minha linda, must call me Tiago.”
“That’s enough of that,” Gabe said grumpily, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder and shoving him to the side. He claimed Abbie’s hand and put it pointedly on his arm, shooting a scowl at the friend he had so recently been glad to see.
Tiago laughed, tugging his coat back into place. “Goodness, Davenport. From the way you’re carrying on, one would think this was your Abigail.”
Abbie’s mouth fell open. His Abigail? Since when was she his Abigail?
