Chloe shrieked and slapped a hand to her heart. “You startled me.”

Yes, the shriek had suggested as much. He looked about once more for Jane. For a moment, his gaze lingered on the Earl of Montclair, the same charming rogue who’d been engaged in discussion with her a short while ago. And he wanted to kill the man all over again. The lady was not with Montclair. Some of the tension thrumming through his frame left him. “Mrs. Munroe?” he gritted out, careful to keep his tone low from possible listeners. “Where is she?”

In an exasperating manner that had driven him mad as a youth, Chloe directed her gaze to the chandelier. “I’m not Jane’s keeper. If you want Mrs. Munroe watched, you should assign the lady a companion.”

He bristled at having been both caught and called out, by his young sister, no less. “Not watched,” he groused, and resisted the urge to tug at his suddenly too-tight cravat. “I’m not suggesting you are her keeper. I, oh blast and damn,” he groused.

Chloe’s eyes formed wide moons. “Did you just curse?”

Again, cursing.

“No.” Her eyebrows shot up. “And lying?”

Jane Munroe was a deuced bad influence. He should stand here beside Chloe until she returned. It was, at the very least, the brotherly thing to do.

“Chloe!”

He gave silent thanks as Imogen and Alex descended upon Chloe, effectively relieving him of his responsibilities. An excited squeal bubbled past his sister’s lips and with little regard for Society’s rules, she flung her arms about the other woman. “Oh, how I have missed you. I daresay I never imagined when I performed matchmaker for you two, that you’d abandon me to my own devices.”

Chloe’s teasing words roused sheepish expressions from the recently married husband and wife.

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Taking advantage of the sudden, and much welcome, diversion, Gabriel sketched a bow. “If you’ll excuse me?” he remarked, and then without awaiting permission, or allowing questions, went in search of Jane.

He wound his way through the throng of guests and strode from the hall. With the din of the crowd at his back, he glanced first down one corridor and then another. Where in blazes had she gone off? With an impatient curse, he moved at a brisk clip through one hall. All the while, Jane Munroe occupied his thoughts. Where did he always find the lady in his own home? He paused and narrowed his gaze. Of course. Then with purposeful strides he made his way past door after door in search of the library. The memory of Jane and Lord Montclair, the notorious rogue, grew increasingly strong in his mind. With each opened and closed door, fury expanded…and the fury should be reserved for Jane having abandoned Chloe, but instead, a dark, niggling emotion that felt very much like jealousy slithered inside him like a venomous serpent.

There had been a familiarity to Jane and Montclair’s exchange—the position of their bodies, the furtiveness of their meeting. And he intended to find out just how Jane Munroe knew the gentleman. He shoved open another door. The library. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimly lit space. He peered into the expansive room and then located her almost immediately, tucked against the wall, as though she sought to make herself invisible.

“G-Gabriel,” she stammered. Her cheeks whitened and with unease stamped in the graceful planes of her face, the niggling grew and expanded as the ugly possibility took root and grew within his mind.

Gabriel entered the room and closed the door quietly behind him. Her gaze followed his every movement, as he turned the lock. He leaned against the frame and folded his arms at his chest. “I believe you have some explaining to do.”

*

Jane’s mind raced. Oh, she had some explaining to do, all right. The question was, which bit of explaining did Gabriel reference? Life had taught her patience. Inevitably, people revealed themselves and their inner-thoughts.

He shoved away from the door and made his way across the quiet library.

Alas, in this instance, life proved wholly incorrect. Gabriel, stoic and somber as always, gave no indication as to his thoughts. She wet her lips. “My lord?” she began tentatively.

Could one go to prison for stealing a missive and securing oneself employment? And would he have her thrown in Newgate if it was a punishable offense? With his love for his sister, she didn’t doubt he’d ruin Jane, if he believed she’d compromised Chloe’s well-being in any way.




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