Lord Robert Harvey departed a few days after Gabriel left for London. Her former beau was certainly displeased with the situation.

“I shall not extend my congratulations on this marriage, Celia,” he said with grim finality. “The man you are taking as a husband will never be of our social standing. No matter how many marquessates he may inherit. Are you so willing to tie yourself to such a man? A complete nobody?”

“It is too late to do anything about it at this point,” Celia had said with a sigh. Although she strongly objected to his characterization of Gabriel being a nobody, she let that argument go. “My mother has agreed. My father certainly will. And Rose will not release me from my own consent to marry him. It is useless fighting it. He will obtain the queen’s consent for this hasty marriage, and then I am certainly left with no choice.”

That evening as Celia finished dressing for the evening meal, there was a knock on her bedroom door.

“I will get it, miss,” the maid said with a smile. Since her own maid, Katie, traveled with her mother, Celia was using the services of Mrs. Frazer. The elderly woman served as a lady’s maid when needed, although her usual duties were as an assistant to Annie, Beaumont’s housekeeper. She was a bit flighty but terribly sweet, and quite talented when it came to arranging intricate hairstyles.

“Good evening, milord.”

“Good evening, Mrs. Frazer,” Gabriel said, looking past the woman to where Celia sat at the dressing table. “If Lady Celia is ready, I’ve come to escort her to supper.”

“How nice. Yes, I just finished her coiffure, and all milady requires now are her slippers.” Mrs. Frazer opened the door further. “I’m sure Lady Celia will not mind if you would like to wait inside while I fetch them for her.”

Celia blushed, remembering the last time Gabriel was inside this room. How he’d gently removed her shoes and then kissed the place between her legs with ravenous hunger.

“Thank you, Mrs. Frazer. I would love to. And perhaps I may offer my assistance. I know you suffer with the limitations of a painful back.” His voice was a low rumble. It conjured up even more memories for Celia. Memories where he told her what to do while describing his plans for her.

His smile touched Celia from the other side of the room. She still sat at the dressing table, frozen in place by a surge of desire so strong she thought her knees would buckle if she tried standing. It was ridiculous that he affected her this way. It was ridiculous that she hungered for the slightest bit of attention this man showed her.

“Oh, that would be lovely,” Mrs. Frazer replied happily. “Here you are, milord.” She handed over a pair of gold-heeled slippers with dainty bows of a darker hue accentuating the toe. A slender strap would wrap around the ankle, securing the shoe in place. Gabriel dangled the shoes from his index finger by way of that same strap.