The Defiant Mistress

‘Why are you so angry?’ Athena demanded, before he’d even had a chance to lean back in the reclining seat beside her.

‘What?’

‘You didn’t even turn up at the church!’ Furious indignation vibrated in her voice. ‘You sailed off to Aleppo two weeks later without a backward glance! How dare you treat me with such contempt!’

‘How dare I…?’ Gabriel half-turned on to his side so that he could stare directly into her face. His blazing eyes were only inches from hers. ‘Harlot! I saw you with your lover. Did it amuse you to know I watched? You laughed when that bastard knocked me cold! But I’m not the callow boy I was then. You won’t fool me again with your lies.’

His accusation was so unexpected that, for a few seconds, Athena could hardly think straight.

‘What lover? I never had a lover!’ She found her voice. ‘You’re the one who’s lying! If you never meant to marry me—’

‘In the bawdy house!’ In an instant Gabriel was stretched half on top of her, the tip of his nose almost touching hers. ‘I saw him drink from the very spot your lips had touched. I saw you smile at him and lift your mouth for his kiss. I saw—’

‘Samuel?’ Athena gasped. For a moment she was back in that hateful room, afraid and longing for Gabriel to rescue her. ‘You saw?’ Her memories disintegrated beneath a mist of red-hot fury. ‘You saw and you didn’t help me! How could you? How could you?’ She pounded her fists at him, hitting wildly at his shoulders and chest, catching him a blow on his cheek, fighting him as she’d never fought Samuel. Blind to everything but memories of the nightmare she’d endured for Gabriel’s sake and her sense of bitter betrayal that he’d seen and done nothing to help her. She didn’t hear the shouts and curses of the gondoliers as they tried to prevent the gondola from overturning.

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?’