A Secret Love by Stephanie Laurens Page B

while helping a friend, Gabriel might not have made it out again but for Chance’s aid, given not for any promise of reward, but simply in the way of helping another man with the scales weighted heavily and unfairly against him. Chance had, in a way, rescued Gabriel—Gabriel, in turn, had rescued Chance.
    â€œWhich have you chosen?” Lucifer looked from his invitations to the four lined up on Gabriel’s side of the mantelpiece.
    â€œI haven’t. They all seem similarly boring.”
    â€œ Boring? ” Lucifer glanced at him. “You want to be careful of using that word, and even more of giving way to the feeling. Just look where it got Richard. And Devil. And Vane, too, come to think of it.”
    â€œBut not Demon—he wasn’t bored.”
    â€œHe was running, and that didn’t work, either.” After a moment, Lucifer added, “And anyway, I’m sure he is bored now. He’s not even sure they’ll come up for any of the Season.” His tone labeled such behavior incomprehensible.
    â€œGive him time—they’ve only been married a week.”
    A week ago, Demon Harry Cynster, their cousin and a member of the group of six popularly known as the Bar Cynster, had said the fateful words and taken a bride, one who shared his interest in horse-racing. Demon and Felicity were presently making a prolonged tour of the major racecourses.
    Nursing his brandy, Gabriel mused, “After a few weeks, or months, I dare say the novelty will wear off.”
    Lucifer threw him a cynical look. They were both well aware that when Cynsters married, the novelty did not, strange as it seemed, wear off at all. Quite the opposite. To them both, it was an inexplicable conundrum, however, as the last unmarried members of the group, they were exceedingly wary of having it explained to them.
    How on earth men like them—like Devil, Vane, Richard, and Demon—could suddenly turn their backs on all the feminine delights so freely on offer within the ton, and happily—and to all appearances contentedly—settle to wedded bliss and the charms of just one woman, was a mystery that confounded their male minds and defied their imaginations.
    Both sincerely hoped it never happened to them.
    Resettling his cloak, Lucifer selected one gilt-edged card from his stack. “I’m going to Molly Hardwick’s.” He glanced at Gabriel. “Coming?”
    Gabriel studied his brother’s face; anticipation glinted in the dark blue eyes. “Who’ll be at Molly Hardwick’s?”
    Lucifer’s quick smile flashed. “A certain young matron whose husband finds the bills before Parliament more enticing than she.”
    That was Lucifer’s speciality—convincing ladies of insufficiently serviced passions that permitting him to service them was in their best interests. Considering his brother’s long, lean frame and rakishly disheveled black locks, Gabriel raised a brow. “What’s the odds?”
    â€œNone at all.” Lucifer strolled to the door. “She’ll surrender—not tonight, but soon.” Pausing at the door, he nodded at the glass of brandy. “I take it you’re going to see that to the end, in which case, I’ll leave you to it.” With a wave, he opened the door; an instant later it clicked shut behind him.
    Gabriel studied the dark panels, then raised his glass and took another sip. Transferring his gaze to the fire burning in the grate, he stretched out his legs, crossed his ankles, and settled down for the evening.
    It was, he felt, a telling fact that he would rather wait out the hours until midnight here, safe and comfortable before his own hearth, than risk his freedom in a tonnish ballroom, no matter how tempting the ladies filling it. Ever since Demon’s engagement had been announced nearly a month ago, every matron with a daughter suitable in any degree had set her sights on him, as if