I had not been given the rules.
“Gads,” Victoria continued. “The man is accused of trying to murder his own father and that didn’t keep Miranda away from him.”
I stiffened, feeling an irrational surge of defensiveness sweep through me. Gabe was not responsible for his father’s illness. That, I was sure of. He might be a rake, he might be greedy, but he was not a murderer.
“Using the girl,” Eliza said. “Pathetic thing.”
“Pathetic thing?” Victoria laughed. “She knew what she was getting when she stepped out with him. Besides, no doubt she’ll find a new protector once he’s done. Men adore women like her.”
Eliza quirked a brow. “Like her?”
“You know…easy to get into bed. Well, at least they like them as mistresses, certainly not to marry.”
“Ladies,” an older woman called out. “Do lower your voices, there are impressionable, young women in attendance.”
With sly grins, the two ladies glanced around the room, delighting in the scene they’d caused. I tried to squeeze farther behind the screen. Too late. Victoria’s blue gaze landed on me. A flash of surprise lit her eyes, followed quickly by amusement. She didn’t feel guilty in the least.
“Now that his father is doing better,” Eliza added, unaware of her friend’s attention. “He’d best be on good behavior.”
I mulled over the comment. Gabe’s father was well again? Why hadn’t he told me? But the answer was obvious. Because I wasn’t important enough. Victoria and Eliza strolled from the room, two spoiled, heartless women I’d never see again. But even in their absence I didn’t feel better.
“My lady?” the maid suddenly appeared, glass in hand. She was so eager to please, so worried about doing something wrong and being reprimanded by me, me, of all people, it made me ill. I didn’t belong here. I didn’t belong anywhere.
I shoved my way around the maid and left the room. Gabe didn’t want me. He wanted to humiliate his parents. He’d brought me here, he’d lied and disrespected me like no one ever had. Utter humiliation had me stumbling down the steps, desperate to escape.
The stairs were empty. Most were still dancing. I could make it outside with no one noticing, as long as I stayed in the shadows. As long as I...
“Ginny.” Suddenly, Gabe was there, sliding his muscled arm around my waist, pulling me close, anchoring me to him. When before his touch had brought comfort, now it only made me ill. My hands flattened to his chest.
“Come. Dance with me.”
Feeling confused, disgusted, and angry all at once, I shoved his arm away. “I can’t…I can’t dance.”
He paused, finally looking down at me. The surprise within his eyes annoyed me. He belonged here, amongst the charming and wealthy. He was one of them. I wasn’t. “You can’t dance?”
“There wasn’t much call for it in the slums, my lord.” I tried to move around him, but he reached out, and grabbed my hand. I’d made up my mind to abandon this farce, and only wanted to escape. “Let go. I’m leaving.”
“Gabriel, darling.” A tall, regal woman with blonde hair touched with gray, paused before us. She didn’t bother to glance at me, but kept her attention pinned to Gabe. “How lovely to see you at the family ball we’re having to celebrate your father’s recovery.”
Family ball? How could he? How could he do this to me? To his family?
Gabe took my hand in his firm grip, his face completely unreadable. “Mother. A pleasure, as always.”
His mother? The woman he wished to humiliate? Frustration had my toes curling in my slippers. Desperate to escape, I glanced around the room, looking for an opening. Dancers were leaving the floor. The crowd was so thick, it was hard to breathe, let alone escape. I pressed my hand to my belly, feeling nauseous.
“You find this a game? You think to get the better of your father and me?” A small smirk lifted the corners of her mouth. “Have fun with your whore. It will be over soon enough.”
Her words struck me like a slap across the face. Whore?
With as much elegance as a queen, she turned and strolled away. How could someone so beautiful, say such horrible things? How could such vile words come from her pretty mouth? Gabe gripped my upper arm. I could see the anger and frustration in his gaze as he watched his mother leave. He hated her. Hated her so much that he would use anyone to get back at the woman. The heat of his touch made my skin