The Defiant Mistress

Gabriel swore. He pinned down her flailing legs with the weight of his own body and seized her forearms in his hands. He pressed her wrists against the black velvet behind her head.

Athena glared up at him through the untidy mess of her hair. ‘You monster!’ she panted. ‘How could you be so cruel? How could I have been so stupid as to love you!’

Gabriel laughed savagely. ‘Love had nothing to do with it! You saw a likely pigeon and played me along until a richer prize came your way.’

‘Richer…?’ Athena stared at him. The pressure of his body forcing her against the reclining seat meant that at least one of the bones in her tightly laced bodice pressed painfully into her side, restricting her breathing. He held her arms prisoner above her head. But he hadn’t hurt her.

His hair was dishevelled. The lace at his throat was torn and she saw scratches on his chin where her nails must have caught him. There was a mark on his left cheek from the blows she had rained about his shoulders and head. But he hadn’t hurt her.

She’d never fought Samuel. She’d known instinctively that if she did he would beat her so badly she might not survive. Tonight, driven by long-held feelings of pain and betrayal, she’d struck out wildly at Gabriel—but he’d not made any attempt to retaliate. She must have known—even after everything that had happened—she must have known on some deep, instinctive level she was safe with Gabriel.

‘He told me you didn’t go to the church,’ she whispered. ‘He told me you didn’t even know I hadn’t gone.’

‘Who told you?’

‘Samuel. Samuel Quenell. My…’ She hesitated, hating even now to refer to Samuel in such terms. ‘My husband.’

‘Your husband?’

‘How could you have seen us? How did you know where we were?’ She searched Gabriel’s face for an answer. ‘Why didn’t you help me?’

‘Help you?’ he jeered. ‘You seemed more than satisfied with your lot.’

‘You did go to the church,’ Athena breathed. ‘He lied to me.’

‘Don’t think you’ll cozen me with your fairy tales,’ Gabriel said. ‘I have seen the evidence of your true character with my own eyes.’

‘Your eyes are blind if you think I was happy to be with Samuel!’ she flung at him, hurt and insulted anew by his scepticism. ‘How did you know where to find us?’

‘I’m getting tired of your evasions, Frances,’ Gabriel said harshly. ‘You know damn well you sent a messenger to find me in the church.’

‘A messenger? Who?’

‘You know, what with having his knife pressed against my belly and then grinding his face into the plaster to teach him respect, we never did take the time for polite introductions,’ Gabriel said sarcastically. ‘He had the last laugh however. He caught me unawares when…’ he paused and gritted his teeth ‘…when I saw you and your pimp.’

Athena gazed at him. The Gabriel she’d nearly married eight years ago had been honourable, occasionally hot-headed and always direct. The Gabriel holding her captive had not changed so very much in essentials. He had no reason to lie about what had happened. The truth was too damaging to his pride and self-esteem.

‘Samuel lied to both of us,’ she said bleakly.

‘I am impressed by your resourcefulness, madam. Not to mention your tenacity in holding to a story in the face of all the evidence against you.’

‘There was supposed to be evidence against me.’ Athena suddenly felt tired. Had everything Samuel had told her been a lie? She remembered the scrap of letter implicating Gabriel in a plot to kill Cromwell. That at least must have been real. She’d recognised Gabriel’s writing immediately. As it had turned out, there had been no need to kill Cromwell because he’d died of natural causes a few months later. After Gabriel had written the letter the plotters must have come to the conclusion that time would complete their task for them. That there were other, better ways to further the King’s cause.

‘The greatest evidence of all is your willing compliance in your pimp’s arms.’ Gabriel’s gritty voice cut across her reflections.

‘I had no choice—’

‘No choice? No choice but to offer your lips to him, allow him to mumble at your breast with his mouth like—’

‘Do you think I liked that? I wanted to rip his guts out!’

‘Words! Words!’

‘He told me if I didn’t marry him—’ She broke off staring at Gabriel’s flinty, cynical expression. The bitter sense of betrayal that he’d seen her with Samuel but hadn’t helped her still gnawed at her soul. His disbelief in her explanations wounded her deeply. She could not bear to admit she’d married Samuel to save Gabriel himself. Couldn’t make herself so vulnerable to him when he treated her with such disdain.

‘He caught me on the eve of our wedding,’ she said. ‘I was so sure I’d escaped him—but he was hiding in the shadows by the courtyard. He dragged me into the parlour and told me…’ she swallowed, remembering the sickening horror she’d experienced then ‘…told me he’d taken Aunt Kitty. She was…she was the guarantee that I’d marry him willingly. He wouldn’t hurt her if I did.’

‘And you just gave yourself up without protest. Without even trying to send for help?’ Gabriel said scornfully. ‘Do you think I’d have let him hurt Kitty if I’d known? Or you? How could you be so feckless?’

‘Feckless!’ To hear her sacrifice described in such contemptuous terms infuriated Athena. Even though she’d decided not to tell Gabriel that her primary motive had been to save his life, it still hurt that he dismissed her plight so lightly.

‘Get off me!’ She jerked her body in an effort to throw him off. The gondola rocked, but her efforts made no impression on Gabriel. She winced and caught her breath in sudden pain.

‘Why do you flinch? I’m not hurting you at all.’ He frowned at her.

‘A bone in my bodice has broken, you great lummocking bully!’ She glared at him. ‘It wasn’t intended for this kind of treatment.’

‘Hmm.’ He adjusted his position on top of her carefully. Athena didn’t realise until he released her hands and flipped her over beneath him that he’d been taking care he wasn’t kneeling on her petticoats. She found her cheek pressed down on the velvet upholstery.

‘What are you doing?’ Alarm skittered through her as she felt his hands at her back.

‘Relieving you of pain, madam harlot.’

‘What?’ An instant later she knew exactly what he was doing. ‘No!’ She braced her hands against the seat and tried to push upwards.

Gabriel held her still with his thighs around her hips and one firm hand between her shoulder blades. With his other he unfastened the bodice her maid had so diligently laced her into before dinner.

‘No. Please!’ she begged desperately, as the tight-fitting bodice fell away from her body. ‘Please God, don’t!’

Chapter Three

‘D on’t what?’ he purred. ‘Touch you?’

His free hand slipped inside the open edges of her bodice. Only her thin chemise prevented him from touching her naked skin. He stroked his fingers delicately from her waist to the nape of her neck.

She gasped and trembled. His caress aroused so many conflicting emotions within her she scarcely knew what she felt.

‘Please,’ she whispered.

‘Please more?’ he taunted her. His hand roamed freely over her back. Trapped beneath him as she was, she could do nothing to prevent his caresses. The rich velvet beneath her cheek was smooth yet slightly abrasive when she moved her head against the grain of the fabric.

‘No.’ She closed her eyes. She’d longed so many nights for Gabriel’s touch. But she’d never expected he would be holding her captive when he did so.

‘No?’ He put one hand on the seat beside her and carefully repositioned himself over her. He pushed her long curls aside, his fingers lingering on the smooth skin of her shoulder, then she felt him lower his upper body until his weight lightly pressed against her. For a few tantalising seconds his breath heated her skin, then he kissed her shoulder.

He took his time, tasting her with his tongue, teasing her with his lips. She quivered, unexpected pleasure shimmering through her body. During their betrothal he had kissed her chastely upon her hand and occasionally on her cheek. Once or twice he had stolen a kiss from her lips—but never with such unfettered sensuality.

For a few moments she lost herself in the illicit delight he gave her. She forgot her undignified position face down in the gondola. She forgot Gabriel’s hostility towards her and her own sense of betrayal that he had seen but not protected her from Samuel. She was acutely aware of the contained strength in his hard body as he hovered just above her. The lace of his cravat trailed teasingly across her bare shoulder almost as tantalisingly as his lips.

His powerful thighs gripped her hips, holding her prisoner. She was completely at his mercy. And at the mercy of the desire he aroused in her. She whimpered softly.

She heard a low growl in his throat. His teeth closed on the curve between her shoulder and her neck. He didn’t bite hard enough to hurt her, but he growled again, the sound vibrating through her body. Through her arousal-dazed senses she became aware of the change in his mood from passion to anger.

‘Do you take pleasure where you can find it, like any bitch in heat?’ he said against her neck. ‘Little harlot.’

‘I am not a harlot!’ Her denial emerged as a sob of frustration and self-disgust. ‘Get off me!’

‘That’s not what you want.’ His words burned against her ear. ‘You want me to haul up your petticoats and—’

‘No!’ The velvet upholstery swallowed her gasping scream, but she began to struggle in earnest beneath him. Jabbing backwards and upwards with her elbows, she heard him grunt as one sharp elbow connected with his ribs.

He cursed and rolled off her. As soon as she was relieved of his weight she scrabbled around to face him, clutching her bodice against her breasts and drawing her knees up in an instinctive attempt to protect herself from further assaults.

The gondola rocked beneath their shifting weights, and she heard the canal water slap against the sides of the elegant craft. The lantern swung from side to side before once more coming to rest.

Gabriel stared at Athena in the shifting light. ‘That’s twice you’ve inflicted injury upon me,’ he said, his eyes narrowing. ‘Your pimp did not treat you well.’

‘I never had a pimp! I had a husband. And, no, he didn’t treat me well!’ Athena panted with overwrought emotion.

‘Where is he?’

‘He’s dead.’

‘How convenient.’

‘He died a few months ago.’

‘And now you’re looking for a new patron. Did he pay for your silk and lace, or did you bewitch some other poor fool into giving it to you?’ Gabriel’s long fingers flicked scornfully at the broad lace collar around Athena’s neckline.

‘No one gave it to me!’ Athena spat. ‘I made it! I’m not looking for a man. I survived eight years without Samuel. Why should I put myself at any man’s mercy ever again? You only cause pain and misery.’

‘I caused you pain and misery? I think not, Frances—’

‘That’s not my name,’ she interrupted, without considering her words.

‘Not your name?’ He stared at her, then threw himself back on to the seat beside her with a crack of scornful laughter. ‘You tell a series of fairy tales, expect me to believe them—then tell me I don’t even know your name? Well, what could I expect from a born harlot? You never intended to marry me, so what did it matter what name you used?’

‘It is my name,’ Athena corrected, flushing angrily.

‘First it isn’t, then it is—’

‘I was christened Athena Frances. Before God I am both Athena and Frances. I was not marrying you under a false name because you knew me by my second Christian name, not my first. I would have made my vows before God in good faith, knowing that He knows who I am.’

‘God knows, but not your future husband.’ Gabriel stared at her. The hard light in his eyes softened by a few degrees as he studied her face, dwelling on each feature in turn. ‘Athena,’ he repeated under his breath. ‘Perhaps. But you will always be Frances to me.’

A sob rose unexpectedly in Athena’s throat. ‘Frances died when Samuel found me,’ she said.

‘Who the hell is Samuel? Why was he looking for you?’ Renewed suspicion appeared in Gabriel’s eyes.

‘Was. He’s dead,’ Athena reminded him. ‘He was my stepfather’s nephew.’

‘Your stepfather? You told me you went to live with your aunt in London after you were orphaned.’

‘My father died,’ said Athena. ‘My brother was only six. Several of our neighbours wanted to seize our house and estates. My brother was too young to defend his inheritance, so my mother remarried to protect us. My stepfather was—is—a good, upright man. But he favoured a match between me and his nephew. Samuel. When I could see no other way to avoid the marriage I ran away to London where I altered my name. I thought Samuel would never find me. He did. He found me the day before our wedding was meant to take place.’

For several long moments there was silence in the gondola.

‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me that story before—when I asked you to marry me?’ Gabriel growled at last. ‘Did you plan to leave me forever in ignorance of your family?’

‘No. I was so happy. I didn’t want anything to spoil it…’

‘If what you claim is true, you were a stupid, heedless wench,’ Gabriel said brutally. ‘You deserved your fate.’

‘Never!’ Athena thought of all she’d endured to keep Gabriel safe from Cromwell’s executioner. ‘How dare you judge me so harshly. You know nothing. Nothing.’

‘If you’re telling the truth, I know more now than I did then. You lied to me in London. From beginning to end—you lied to me. You were even going to marry me without telling me your real name. How the devil did you expect me to protect you if I didn’t know you were in danger?’ he exploded.

‘Protect me? You watched and did nothing to stop Samuel—’

‘Before!’ Gabriel roared. ‘If I’d known before, do you think I’d have left you under the protection of one elderly widow woman? You could have had a place in Sir Thomas Parfitt’s household until the wedding. You didn’t think, Frances. You just danced through your days, expecting life to fall into your pretty lap.’

‘I didn’t dance,’ Athena whispered, hating the way he made her sound so heedless.

‘Yes, you did,’ he said flatly. ‘You danced and left the practical business of life to others.’

‘I don’t even know how to dance,’ she protested, remembering her awkwardness earlier that evening.

‘Your spirit danced.’ He stared up at the roof of the gondola, then laid his forearm across his eyes.

‘Oh.’ Tears trembled in Athena’s own eyes. ‘I was a foolish virgin,’ she whispered. They had gone on a picnic once, and she’d been so lost in thoughts of Gabriel she’d forgotten to pack the bread. He had teased her about the parable of the wise virgins who had filled their lamps with oil in preparation for the coming of the bridegroom, and the foolish virgins who hadn’t been so well prepared.

‘It would appear so,’ he said.

‘Well, I’m not—’ she began without thinking, then bit her lip to stop herself crying.

‘No.’

‘Foolish now!’ she snapped, lifting her chin defiantly, although he wasn’t looking at her and would not therefore be impressed by the gesture. ‘I may have been foolish once, but I am not foolish now.’

‘You arrived in Venice with no idea how you were going to continue your journey and had to beg the Ambassador to arrange your transport home! How much more damned foolish can one woman get!’

‘I was not foolish!’ Athena fired up. ‘Rachel needed my support. She was in such distress. Only someone with a heart of stone would have refused to help her.’

‘Another foolish wench. Has she any idea how much her presence here may hinder her husband’s career?’ Gabriel said derisively.

‘She didn’t come to hinder his career, she came to save herself from her lech of a brother-in-law! If her husband had left her better provided for, she wouldn’t have needed to come to Venice. Men always think they know best. They don’t know anything.’

‘What were you doing in the convent?’ Gabriel asked.

‘That’s where I ended up after I ran away from Samuel the second time,’ said Athena.

‘You ran away? When?’

‘Three weeks after the wedding.’

‘Three weeks!’ Gabriel swore. ‘If you had the resolution to run away then, why not earlier?’

‘Because earlier I didn’t know—’ Athena caught herself up before she revealed that it was only after Gabriel had set off for Turkey that she’d run from Samuel. ‘Circumstances changed,’ she said instead. ‘There was no longer any risk involved if I left him. My mother’s sister lived in exile in France. Her husband was a royalist who fought for Charles at Worcester. He was hanged when the Roundheads captured him after the battle. I went to her.’

‘To France? All on your own?’ Gabriel’s voice was redolent with scepticism.

‘Yes! I cut off my hair, dyed it brown and pretended to be a youth,’ Athena declared proudly. ‘I got all the way to my aunt’s without anyone seeing through my disguise.’

Gabriel looked at her in disbelief, his eyes resting on the womanly curve of her breasts.

‘I bound them and wore baggy clothes,’ Athena said impatiently. ‘And I practised walking like a cocky youth. I based my impersonation on you. People only see what they expect to see.’

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. ‘In my experience cocky youths usually walk straight into trouble in unfamiliar surroundings,’ he said drily.

‘Hmm. Well,’ Athena muttered, discomfited. ‘After certain incidents I concluded, upon reflection, that a more modest bearing might be advisable. But I reached my destination quite safely. I am not the only woman who has chosen the protection of male clothing when travelling,’ she pointed out.

‘And what happened when you reached your aunt?’

‘We decided, Aunt Eleanor and I, that the English Convent in Bruges would be the safest place for me to hide. One of her childhood friends is the Abbess there. She took me to the convent early in 1659 and I stayed until Rachel needed a companion on her journey here.’

‘Seven years in a convent,’ Gabriel mused, his expression unreadable as he looked her up and down. ‘You are certainly not dressed like a nun.’

‘I wasn’t a nun, I was a guest of the convent.’

‘Hardly a charitable case, by the look of you.’

‘My aunt made donations to the convent. But I also worked for them in the infirmary and sometimes the gardens,’ Athena said. ‘And I made my lace.’ She touched her bodice. ‘It fetches a good price, you know.’

‘Yes.’ His eyes raked her face. ‘It is a very plausible story,’ he said.

‘Don’t you believe me?’

‘I reserve judgement.’

‘You have no right to judge me!’ Athena fumed.

‘It was judgement that separated the wise from the foolish virgins.’

‘It was common sense and foresight,’ Athena shot back.

‘Both of which you completely lack if this latest exploit is any indication.’

‘And you’ve lost your compassion. And your gallantry,’ she added, as an afterthought. ‘How could you treat me so rudely at dinner?’

‘Very easily.’ He moved suddenly, startling her into huddling back into her seat, but all he did was twitch apart the curtains a couple of inches to speak to the gondolier standing in front of the small cabin.

‘Oh, my God, they heard us?’ she whispered in horror, as Gabriel sat back again.

‘They don’t speak English,’ he replied indifferently.

‘What did you say to him?’ Athena still kept her voice lowered.

‘I ordered them to take us back to the embassy.’

‘Oh.’ Athena experienced a strange sense of anticlimax. ‘Then what?’

‘You may retire to your quarters and I will retire to mine.’

‘That’s it?’

‘What else would you prefer to do?’ His eyes glittered in the lantern light.

Athena clutched defensively at her bodice and realised she was still unlaced. ‘I can’t walk into the embassy like this!’ she gasped.

‘I could carry you in,’ he offered.

‘Certainly not!’ She bit her lip as she considered her options. ‘You may do me up,’ she decided, ‘but mind you touch nothing but the points and my bodice!’

‘You want me to do the work of a lady’s maid?’ he said. ‘For what hire?’

‘Nothing. You shouldn’t have undone me in the first place.’

‘Turn around,’ he commanded.

She did so, looking warily over her shoulder to see what he would do.

‘So suspicious,’ he mocked her.

‘No more than you.’ She held her breath as he pulled on the laces. ‘Not too tight. The bone is broken,’ she reminded him.

She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that he did exactly as she’d asked. Despite everything, some small part of her still yearned for his caresses.

‘There. You may return to the embassy as respectably dressed as you left it,’ he said.

‘What did he do to you?’ Athena’s maid demanded the instant she entered her room.

‘Nothing.’ Athena had known there was little chance her interlude with Gabriel would go unnoticed, at least by Martha. Her maid had been given a pallet bed in Athena’s chamber.

Martha sniffed disbelievingly. ‘Richard saw him carry you off the steps. He said you didn’t even struggle.’

Richard was the manservant Rachel Beresford had brought with her from England. Martha hadn’t wanted to come to Venice, but she’d been partially consoled for the inconvenience of the trip by the friendship she’d struck up with Richard.

‘Did he?’ Athena sat down on a stool and brushed her hair wearily back from her face. It was hard to dredge up answers to satisfy Martha when she had so many unanswered questions of her own whirling in her mind.

‘I didn’t struggle because there was no point,’ she said. ‘Do you suppose anyone in this place would gainsay Lord Halross?’

‘No,’ Martha admitted grudgingly. ‘He has them all in thrall. And he’s in better standing with the Venetians than the Ambassador, by what I hear. Why did he take you? What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?’

‘To talk. No, he didn’t hurt me.’

‘Talk!’ Martha snorted in disbelief. ‘How do you know him? You never mentioned him before.’

The stool was close to the wall. Athena leant back gratefully. ‘I knew him before I was married,’ she said.

‘Were you his mistress?’ Martha sounded shocked.

‘No!’ Athena lifted her head in indignation. ‘I was to marry him.’

‘Marry him?’ Martha’s mouth fell open. ‘Why didn’t you?’

‘We had a small misunderstanding several years ago. Lord Halross wanted to clear it up this evening, that’s all,’ said Athena, trying to conclude the conversation.

‘It’s not all, by a long shot,’ Martha said grimly. ‘Richard wasn’t the only one who saw the Marquis carry you off. Sir Walter’s valet also saw you. By tomorrow morning everyone in the embassy will be sure Lord Halross has set you up as his mistress.’

An inn, Brussels

‘There is one other matter, your Grace,’ said Philpott, Gentleman of the Privy Purse to the Duke of Kilverdale.

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