The Elusive Lord Everhart: The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series Read Online Free PDF

not see my sister again.”
    Now, years later, Gabriel still felt the chill of the memory. Absently, he slipped a finger beneath his cravat. He tried to shake it off, but it was difficult when the man who knew his secret was standing here in the same room. “Speaking of marriage— yours , of course—you and your wife are welcome to break your journey here.”
    “If you will have us, I thank you,” Croft answered graciously. “The wheel of the carriage is in need of repair and may take a few hours.”
    Gabriel relaxed marginally. He need not worry that Calliope Croft had journeyed with them. In fact, the last he’d heard mentioned from Lady Brightwell’s mother was that the Crofts were traveling to Bath. Likely, all the Crofts but the one before him now were far, far away from Fallow Hall. And all the better for Gabriel.
    Feeling restored, he began to hop down the remaining stairs—
    “Though my sister is here as well,” Croft added offhandedly, placing his empty glass on a nearby table.
    Gabriel slipped. The heel of his boot missed the bottom tread and sent him reeling backward. Fortunately, with the stairs so steep, his fall was brief. Still, he hit the rigid iron treads soundly, knocking a grunt of pain from his lungs.
    Danvers stared at him in open-mouthed shock. Gabriel wasn’t usually clumsy, but one had to account for the broken leg. In the very least, Danvers could have offered assistance.
    In the end, it was Croft who came forth to lend a hand in a timely fashion. “Here. Allow me to assist you to the sofa.” He took Gabriel’s arm and placed it over his shoulder. Since they were primarily sparring partners—and with a sordid history—this degree of familiarity felt somewhat . . . awkward.
    Gabriel had known for some time that it was odd for him to spar with Croft, of all men. Yet in his own mind, he saw those weekly sessions—of letting Croft pummel him—as a penance of sorts.
    “Your stamina must be waning.” Croft issued one of his typical provoking remarks, reminding Gabriel where they stood. “Then again, you never could best me.”
    Gabriel wanted to taunt him in return but found himself shaken by the previous announcement. “Your sister, you say?” He cringed as the words came forth. This degree of obviousness was even worse than rhyming when he was drunk. He might as well have asked “Which one?” and listed them all by name.
    Still, there was a possibility that it wasn’t Calliope . . .
    Once they crossed the room, Croft released his arm and stepped away. “Yes. I believe you’ve met,” he said, as if for Danvers’s sake, “but it would have been years ago.”
    Croft was keen on torture, Gabriel realized. He resisted the urge to shout, DAMN IT ALL, JUST SAY HER NAME! Instead, he reached down for the glass on the table. “Ah, years ago? Then it would have been . . . ”
    “The eldest of my sisters, Calliope.” Croft slid a cold stare his way. A clear warning. “And speaking of her, I suppose it’s time to offer her a reprieve from our cousin’s illness. I’ll see you at dinner, gentlemen.” He moved to the door and then added one parting remark. “Although with Fallow Hall being such a grand estate, I imagine that it would be difficult for someone in your condition, Everhart, to wait upon his guests. Please do not trouble yourself. We would not be able to live with ourselves if you were left with a permanent mark or injury because of us.”
    Croft left, but his threat remained. Gabriel’s hand shook. Amber ripples disturbed the surface of the whiskey. Calliope was here at Fallow Hall? And not even twenty-four hours from the time of the wager. Clearly, the Fates were laughing at him.
    “I’ve never seen you flustered or known your wit to be absent,” Danvers said, watching him closely. Too closely. “Croft’s insult was an easy jab to counter, yet you said nothing. You seemed tongue-tied. And when you unknotted it, you were more concerned about . . . ” He paused,