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  “The lady is awake. I know this to be a fact because I was summoned to her room upon my own arrival. That’s when she explained your late entry. But she’s far from ready to make her own appearance.” Regis smiled. “Nay a worry. We’ll have you cleaned up and looking dapper long before Miss Riley decides to come downstairs.”

  He nodded and reached for his knapsack, mimicking a phrase he heard the Brits use many times. “Then carry on.”

  “Very good,” Regis replied, leading the way to the staircase.

  ****

  Gabriel was not only disgusted with himself but ashamed for his behavior. And not knowing what sort of explanation Simon gave Riley for his condition, he thought it would be best to make it down to the dining room first. He needed to show her he was responsible and reliable to go on with his day, in spite of his actions the previous night.

  When he entered the empty room, he could only chalk up his good fortune to the incredible amount of preparations a woman endures from the time she downs the night garb, to the moment she actually is pulled together enough to leave the bedchamber. Sunny educated him on a woman’s ritual, clothes, and proper protocol it takes to be a lady in England. And when his sister completed her tutorial, he was even more blessed to have been born a man.

  He sat for a few moments, drinking the black coffee Addie brought him, taking in the fine furnishings of the room. Done in light greens and gold, the dining room was filled with the bright light that shone through a large, bay window. The woodwork was a rich, dark mahogany which contrasted well against the room’s color scheme. Cherry wood table, set of chairs, a large china hutch filled with bone white china, and a buffet table all matched. Above the fireplace hung a tapestry depicting a hunt, men on horseback chased a frightened fox into a thicket, and an oriental rug of deep green covered the hardwood floor.

  When Riley joined him for the morning meal, Gabriel was working on his second cup of coffee. And as he glanced at her, he could not help but think the time she had taken to get herself ready for the day was not wasted. She literally took his breath away.

  The fine lace collar gracing her neckline, entwined with peachy ribbons, brought a delicate bloom to her satin skin. As she made her way past him to the buffet to pour a cup of tea, the aromatic scent of lavender wafted from the frill of the full, cambric skirt just touching her ankles. Long, ginger curls cascaded down her back and ended just above a nicely-shaped backside. He smiled at how, from this angle, her well-rounded hips pleased him immensely.

  She revealed her tender voice. “Do you like?”

  Her unexpected question caused him to flush miserably. How could she read my mind, know my thoughts?

  He cleared his throat, buying some time as how to answer.

  She turned from the buffet, with cup in hand, not waiting for a reply. “My hair. I have decided to wear it loose, as you suggested last night. Do you like?”

  He let out the breath he did not realize he was holding and smiled. “Yes, I do, very much.”

  The splendor of her return smile warmed him through and through. “I am glad.”

  “What else did I suggest last night? I hope I did not say anything to offend you. If that be the case, then I beg your forgiveness.”

  She took a seat beside him at the table. “Your manners were, as always, in good conduct, Mr. Eagle.”

  “Then I am happy to learn I am still welcome at Collins Stead.”

  As she reached for a scone, he noticed a long, ragged scar atop her dainty hand. The red, raised mark was a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. The old wound bothered him, as he wondered about the circumstance by which she had received it. She was hardly the tomboy type. Truth be told, Riley was as gentle as he was rugged, her flesh as fair as he was tanned. They were two complete opposites, and yet there was something similar about them. He had not a clue what their comparable quality was, but he could sense it hanging in the balance.

  “You are heir to Collins Stead, Mr. Eagle. So there isn’t much chance you’d ever be kept from entering its doors,” she said as she buttered the scone.

  “Well, allowed to enter and being welcome are two different things.”

  She reached over and gave his hand a reassuring pat. “Not to worry, you are still in good standing with me. But I hear that isn’t the case between you and Collette Halston.”

  He took an audible breath. “How much did Captain Cavendish tell you?”

  “Only that Collette has decided to run off with another chap to Egypt,” she said, before popping the scone into her mouth.

  He nodded. “That is the truth of it.”

  She sipped her tea, washing down her food before speaking again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Eagle. I know she was...well,” she hesitated, her voice softening, “rather special to you.”

  “Apparently I was not as special to her,” he confessed, sipping his cold coffee.

  “I don’t think that was it at all. I think the two of you want something different out of life.”

  “You sound like my sister. She never believed Collette was the woman for me either,” he said.

  “And deep down, what do you believe, Mr. Eagle?”

  He combed his fingers through his hair. “I think you and Sunny are right. But how could the two of you know this before me?”

  She arched a brow. “If I was a betting woman, and I’m not,” she quickly added, “I’d say you knew exactly what you were getting into, but you were too taken...your senses clouded by other observations.”

  He chuckled. “And what observations do you speak of?”

  “Why, Collette’s ample outer endowments of course, and the way they all came together so perfectly for your pleasure and amusement.”

  His eyes widened at her bold and accurate summery. “Well, certainly no one can chastise you for sparing words.”

  She giggled. “Did you think you were being discreet?”

  “Let us just say I had hoped I was not so obvious.”

  “Aye, well, you are only a man, after all,” she said, dabbing her full, bowed lips with a napkin.

  “And does the fact I am only a man excuse such behavior for you?”

  “Nay, there’s never an excuse for a man’s indiscretion. But it does explain it,” she added, as she reached for a second scone.

  Leaning back in his chair, he studied her with curiosity. An air of efficiency about her fascinated him. Something in her manner, both soothing and yet with a hint of maddening arrogance, radiated a vitality that drew him like a moth to a flame. Why had he not seen this woman for the intelligent, vibrant, and stunning being she was?

  Because I was lusting after Collette.

  A sudden pain squeezed his heart for the way Collette had dismissed him, but perhaps he deserved what he got. In all the time he had spent knowing every crevice and curve of the woman’s body, he never once looked upon her as he was now doing to Riley. In a sense he had wronged Collette in his refusal to see her in the proper manner a gentleman courts a lady. Could it be she felt his indifference and put up a shield of defense?

  No, others knew she was not the settling-down type. And he did not listen to those wagging tongues. Or did he? Could it be somewhere in the back of his mind he stashed away what was said and given Collette an unfair advantage?

  But I was ready to propose marriage to the woman.

  Perhaps because he knew she would decline, and he would have the weight of doing the proper thing off his shoulders. His drunken binge last night was wounded pride, not a broken heart.

  And now, sitting in the dining room of Collins Stead with Riley Flanders, it was almost like the scales had fallen from his eyes and from around his heart. He was no longer blind to his attraction for the lovely lady before him.

  He saw the heart rendering tenderness in her eyes. From them he felt an eager affection, genuine and pure. Her whole being seemed to be filled with anticipation. It was almost like she had a glimpse of how good the two of them could be together, and through those emerald orbs, she showed hi
m what could be if only he would take a leap of faith.

  He tried to throttle the dizzying current racing through him. How could he be attracted to another woman when his pride still stung from the first? Certainly no one would take him seriously. He wondered himself at the inconsistency. Yet the idea of her wrapped in his embrace made his spirit soar the way it did when he first set eyes on his late wife. The feelings he experienced had nothing whatsoever to do with reason.

  And he felt there was a deeper significance to their visual interchange on Riley’s part as well, for the longing in her eyes wrapped around him with invisible warmth, soothing the ache that had burned deep within him for so very long. His insides jangled with excitement at the idea of her eagerness, her interest, and attention.

  Caught up in the moment, he opened his mouth to confess the tangible bond he felt between them, only to have his words silenced when Addie entered the dining room.

  “Got a message ’ere for ye, miss.” Addie handed a folded piece of paper to Riley. “I believe ’tis the one ye ’ave been waitin’ for.”

  “Thank you, Addie,” Riley said, breaking eye contact to read the note.

  At first he bristled at Addie’s interruption, but then, as the heated and charged moment between them cooled, he became relieved his words never made it to Riley’s ears. On a second glance, he had no right to gather her hopes to him, or his to her. Last night in the pub he had decided, after both his sisters gave birth to their babies, he would return to America and help care for his tribe. He was a wealthy man and could make a difference in the Apache people’s lives. No more would they be under the white agent’s rule. But his obligation to Collins Stead was the only problem standing in his way. That is why he proposed a deal to Simon Cavendish before the fire water blurred his senses.

  Riley stood, her expression turning from ease to concern, and crushed the note in a fist at her side. “I’m sorry, but I’ve just had an appointment confirmed in London.”

  He frowned. “Is all well, Riley?”

  “Aye, for now at least.”

  The uncertain tremble in her voice worried him. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s just my past catching up with me, Mr. Eagle, and naught for anyone to worry.” She stuffed the crumbled note into her skirt’s pocket. “And I know you’ve heard all about where I grew up.” She cast a glance at her shoes. “Not exactly something to boast about.”

  He stood and neared her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Never be ashamed of who you are.”

  She raised her eyes to meet his. “That is easy for you to say. Your lifestyle has not been frowned upon and scorned by all of London.”

  “No, not by the people in London, but by the Americans. In my homeland the Apache are thought of as the lowest of low. The white man took our land and put a halt to our traditions. Because my mother is white and my father is an Apache, my sisters and I have been labeled half-breeds. To the white men living in my country, a half-breed is almost as bad as the plague.”

  “And how do you bear it?”

  “One day at a time and never do I forget I am born of proud blood.”

  She smiled. “My friend, Top Hat Tom always says the same.”

  He returned the smile. “Then this Top Hat Tom is a wise man.”

  “Aye, he is at that,” she whispered.

  He removed his hand from her warm shoulder. “I will not keep you further, but tell me you do not go alone.”

  She bit her bottom lip and looked away. “Lady Lucinda does not allow me to travel about without at least Jane to accompany me.”

  “She is wise as well,” he said.

  She cleared her throat and stepped back. “I’m sorry I will be leaving you without a carriage for the afternoon. Perhaps if you have business in London as well and plan to leave immediately, I can have Charles drop you to your destination on the way to mine.”

  “Truthfully, I do have business this afternoon, but I plan to carry it out at Collins Stead.”

  “Then you will remain another day?” she said, finally meeting his gaze.

  He nodded.

  Her face brightened. “Can I count on you to share the evening meal with me, Mr. Eagle?”

  He smiled. “Only on one condition.”

  She frowned. “And what might that be?”

  “That from this time on you start calling me Gabriel.”

  “That would be most inappropriate.”

  “But it would please me greatly,” he said, enjoying the blush that crept into her beautiful face.

  She cleared her throat and repeated her earlier statement, using his first name this time. “Can I count on you to share the evening meal with me, Gabriel?”

  He nodded. “You have my word.”

  ****

  Riley hated lies, telling them and being lied to. But this morning she told an untruth, trading one lie for another. All her life she believed her parents were Anita and Eugene Flanders. And although her childhood was not made up of frills and comforts, Riley loved the woman she had known to be her mother, trusting every word she spoke. Now at twenty-one, discovering Anita was her grandmother and Kevin Delaney her father set her emotions in a spin. All this time she had been lied to...obviously for her own good, but nevertheless her birthright had been kept a secret. Lady Lucinda and Top Hat Tom, the two people who knew the truth, were not exactly eager to explain the situation. She wondered if Kevin Delaney hadn’t returned to England and met up with Naomi, if they would have ever bothered to tell her at all.

  As for her own lies, this morning she told a few to three people she cared for and respected. Her first fib was to Gabriel Eagle, then to Charles, and lastly her handmaiden, Jane. The note she received earlier instructed her to travel alone to London because Kevin Delaney was a wanted man. Naomi couldn’t read nor write, and although Tom could do both, his penmanship resembled chicken scratches. The note she received was written in an even, legible script, so it had to be Kevin Delaney who composed it. As she read on, she was disappointed to learn he was only passing through England on his way to America where he hoped to start a new life. If she were accompanied by anyone, Kevin would refuse to meet her.

  The whole situation nagged at her common sense. First, why was Kevin Delaney wanted by the authorities? What had he done? Had he been, all this time, locked away in an Irish prison? Could that be why his letters to Anita ceased? How did he escape his jailers? And if he were on the run, why would he stop to look her up after all these years? Was it for sentimental reasons, or did he hope to coerce from her the necessary funds for his travels? Most likely it was the latter he had come for.

  And at a second glance, Jane and Charles posed nay a threat, so why was it necessary for her to meet Kevin alone? Riley prided herself at being level-headed, weighing every issue and coming out with the best laid plans after thoughtful examination. How was it she now cast caution to the wind?

  Because I want...nay I need to set eyes upon my father. If he runs from the law to America, this might be the first and last time I have a chance to do that.

  Her lies were easy to carry out. She gave Jane and Charles, who were happy to have time together, a day off. Instructed them to take the carriage and enjoy themselves. She didn’t, however, plan on Gabriel staying at Collins Stead and was extremely relieved when she heard Regis talking to Addie about Captain Cavendish coming to the mansion on business. Gabriel would be staying close to Collins Stead, and she merely called a bluff by offering him a ride into London, knowing full well he’d decline. Thinking Jane and Charles were with her, he’d be none the wiser of her plan to escape to London alone.

  With the hood of her cape draped over her head to hide her identity as well as keep the chilled autumn breeze from stinging her face, Riley sat on the worn, wooden seat of the wagon driven by Addie’s nephew. Once in London, Oliver would drop her off at the ally where she always met Tom. From that point she’d be taken to her father. She had one hour to ask Kevin Delaney decades of questions, but she would have to make th
e best of it. She shivered, pulling the hood tighter around her cold face.

  “Are ye all right, miss?” Oliver turned a concerned glance her way.

  “I’m fine, Oliver.”

  “Sorry the ride’s so bumpy and there’s not some sort o’ an enclosure to keep the cold from yer bones,” he said, pushing a dark curl aside from his forehead.

  “All is fine,” she repeated.

  “I think not ’cause ye are shiverin’, and so quiet.”

  “I’m just doing a bit of praying,” she said.

  “About what?” Oliver probed.

  “That I learn the truth to questions concerning my life, Oliver.” She gripped the wagon’s armrest to keep her balance. “And hopefully, by the time you return for me, I’ll have the answers.”

  Chapter Six

  Gabriel found Lady Collins sitting on the sofa in the library, drinking none other than a cup of tea.

  He smiled and seated himself opposite her. “Good morning, my lady.”

  She returned the smile. “Heard you slept here last night.” She patted the sofa cushion beside her.

  His face heated. “You heard correctly.”

  “Humph,” she said, taking another sip of tea.

  “I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect to you or this household.”

  Lucinda waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Aye, well, these things happen at times, especially when life becomes more imperfect than usual.” She leaned forward. “Did I ever tell you about the time my father came home inebriated beyond belief?”

  Lucinda Collins was a storyteller, had told a fair share of them in the time he had known her. For sure she would have gotten along famously with the Apache people. “No, I haven’t heard that one as of yet.”

  “Well, one night after a fight with my mum, Lord Sherman Collins storms out of the mansion and walks himself to a small pub that existed a few blocks from Collins Stead.” She frowned. “It has since burned down, but it was the favorite of many of the local men. Anyway,” she said, getting the story back on track, “Papa heads to this pub on foot and gets himself so liquored-up he comes home minus his pants.”