But how the devil could he make the prospect of marriage acceptable to her? He had no desire to bully her into it, and he doubted that was possible anyway. Nor did he want to take away her choices. He wanted to be her choice.
Bloody hell, there wasn’t enough time. If they weren’t engaged when she returned to London, the scandal would erupt full-force, and the Ravenels would have to act decisively. Pandora would most likely leave England and take up residence in a place where she could produce her games. Gabriel had no desire to find himself chasing after her across the continent, or possibly all the way to America. No, he had to persuade her to marry him now.
But what the devil could he offer that would mean more to her than her freedom?
By the time Pandora had finished the story, the castle was completed. Justin regarded the tiny crab with awe. He demanded to hear more about Shelley’s adventures with the herring gull, and Pandora laughed.
“I’ll tell you another story,” she said, “while we carry him back to the rocks where you found him. I’m sure he misses his family by now.” They clambered to their feet, and Justin carefully lifted the crab from his perch on a castle turret. As they headed toward the water, Ajax left the shade beneath the bathing-machine and trotted after them.
When they were out of earshot, Ivo announced, “I like her.”
Seraphina grinned at her younger brother. “Last week you said you were finished with girls.”
“Pandora’s a different kind of girl. Not like the ones who are afraid to touch frogs and are always talking about their hair.”
Gabriel barely listened to the exchange, his gaze fastened on Pandora’s retreating form. She went to the verge of the high water mark where the sand was glossy, and stopped to pick up an interesting shell. Glimpsing another one behind her, she retrieved that as well, and another. She would have continued if Justin hadn’t seized her hand and tugged her back on course.
Good God, she really did walk in circles. A pang of tenderness centered in Gabriel’s chest like an ache.
He wanted all her circles to lead back to him.
“We should leave soon,” Phoebe said, “if we’re to have time to wash and dress for dinner.”
Seraphina stood, grimacing at her sand-encrusted hands and arms. “I’m all sandy and sticky. I’m going to rinse off what I can in the water.”
“I’ll collect the kites and pails,” Ivo said.
Phoebe waited until their younger siblings had gone before speaking. “I overheard part of your conversation with Pandora,” she said. “Your voices carried across the sand.”
Brooding, Gabriel reached over to adjust the front brim of her hat. “What do you think, redbird?” It was a pet name that only he and their father used for her.
Frowning thoughtfully, Phoebe used the flat of her palm to smooth one of the castle walls. “I think if you wanted a peaceful marriage and orderly household, you should have proposed to any one of the well-bred simpletons who’ve been dangled in front of you for years. Ivo’s right: Pandora is a different kind of girl. Strange and marvelous. I wouldn’t dare predict—” She broke off as she saw him staring at Pandora’s distant form. “Lunkhead, you’re not even listening. You’ve already decided to marry her, and damn the consequences.”
“It wasn’t even a decision,” Gabriel said, baffled and surly. “I can’t think of one good reason to justify why I want her so bloody badly.”
Phoebe smiled, gazing toward the water. “Have I ever told you what Henry said when he proposed, even knowing how little time we would have together? ‘Marriage is far too important a matter to be decided with reason.’ He was right, of course.”
Gabriel took up a handful of warm, dry sand and let it sift through his fingers. “The Ravenels will sooner weather a scandal than force her to marry. And as you probably overheard, she objects not only to me, but the institution of marriage itself.”
“How could anyone resist you?” Phoebe asked, half-mocking, half-sincere.
He gave her a dark glance. “Apparently she has no problem. The title, the fortune, the estate, the social position . . . to her, they’re all detractions. Somehow I have to convince her to marry me despite those things.” With raw honesty, he added, “And I’m damned if I even know who I am outside of them.”
“Oh, my dear . . .” Phoebe said tenderly. “You’re the brother who taught Raphael to sail a skiff, and showed Justin how to tie his shoes. You’re the man who carried Henry down to the trout stream, when he wanted to go fishing one last time.” She swallowed audibly, and sighed. Digging her heels into the sand, she pushed them forward, creating a pair of trenches. “Shall I tell you what your problem is?”
“Is that a question?”
“Your problem,” his sister continued, “is that you’re too good at maintaining that façade of godlike perfection. You’ve always hated for anyone to see that you’re a mere mortal. But you won’t win this girl that way.” She began to dust the sand from her hands. “Show her a few of your redeeming vices, dear. She’ll like you all the better for it.”
Chapter 9
All through the next day, and the day after that, Lord St. Vincent—Gabriel—made no further attempts to kiss Pandora. He was a perfect gentleman, respectful and attentive, making certain they were chaperoned or in full view of others at all times.
Pandora was very glad about that.
Mostly glad.
More or less glad.