She smiled. “The art world is a forgiving place, Henry. If I do my job better than anyone else, I get to dress any way I wish. Besides, I’m more of a backroom kind of girl. Are you funding my miraculous transformation today?”
“Yes. But don’t expect to be treated like royalty. I’m limited to a low-level professor’s salary.” He helped her to her feet.
She started for the door and tilted her head in his direction. “I can make do with anything.”
Their first stop was Shear Pleasure, a local beauty salon. Lynn, an old friend of Henry’s mother, looked Gabe over and agreed that her hair needed work.
“Blond? Your hair’s been overprocessed and completely stressed, dear. If you must, I’ll need to do a deep conditioning and slowly strip the color and then put back something softer. How short are you willing to go in length?” She picked at the ends of Gabe’s hair like she was touching burlap.
“The hair in front needs to remain at least chin-length. Otherwise, cut away. Something with an attitude.”
Henry interrupted, “Not too much of an attitude. She needs to appear classy.”
“I’ve never seen you take so much interest in a girlfriend before.” Lynn beamed at him as though he had met someone worthy of marriage after his numerous short-term relationships.
He didn’t feel like explaining his private life to anyone, so he wished Gabe luck and strolled around the town square thinking about Lynn’s comment. She’d known what an arse his father had been. In fact, most of Ripon knew of the earl’s female conquests. They didn’t, however, know of the abuse.
The image of his father, a man who went through women like tea bags, stabbed at his memory. His father was the all-time most despicable prat who had ever lived. Someone Henry swore to never be like.
Yes, he’d dated a lot of women in the past, and, yes, the relationships rarely lasted longer than a few weeks. But he’d always treated the women in his life with the utmost respect. So what if he didn’t feel compelled to marry? It wasn’t like he needed a wife. Besides, he’d never met anyone he wanted to settle down with.
He smiled, remembering the comment to his uncle about being engaged to Gabe. Too bad his uncle hadn’t seen the pink-haired version of her. Being a gentleman, though, Uncle George would never comment about her hair or any other quality of Gabe’s, especially if she was joining the family. She’d require tons of protection and assistance if she were to hobnob with the European upper class. She’d admitted she preferred back rooms of art galleries to the more public spaces. She’d be a sitting duck among a group of swans and swan wannabes. Too bad she wasn’t really his fiancée. In Henry’s experience, fiancées gained immunity to the harsh comments and rude attitudes of others.
If she did, in fact, remain with him to help locate the painting, being his fiancée would offer her a layer of protection. Not a real engagement, of course, but one created out of necessity, for a specific length of time. Three weeks.
He drove home and picked up a piece of his inheritance. Although possession was restricted by the trust to the current countess only, there was no countess currently, so she wouldn’t miss it. He’d return it to the family jewels after they retrieved the painting.
When he arrived back at the salon several hours later, he held a small box in his hand that would help protect Gabe from at least some of the obstacles in their path.
“Henry. I’d love to work with Gabe again whenever you two are in town.” Lynn glanced back at him as she cut another woman’s hair. “She’s a pleasure.”
He smiled. He liked having Lynn’s approval. And she was right—Gabe was indeed special.
“I’ll tell her. Where is she?”
As he said the words, Gabe entered from the back area. His art specialist had turned into a cool classy blonde with silky hair falling over one brandy eye to her shoulder and then angled to just below her ear on the other side of her face. It was funky, but elegant. And extremely sexy.
He strolled up to her and hugged her. “Wow. Every time I see you, you’re a completely different woman. Beautiful in all your forms.”
“Thanks. Lynn is a miracle worker.” She settled in his arms comfortably, as though she hadn’t pushed him away hours ago.
“It’s your bone structure,” the miracle worker called out. “You could go bald and still be beautiful.”
“I think I’ll keep my hair this length for a while.” She looked up at him and sighed. “You really like it?”
“I do.” And then he leaned down and kissed her. Her taste drew him in like an opiate. He pulled back before he embarrassed himself. From the wide-eyed look on Gabe’s face, she seemed more shocked by his show of affection than enamored with it.
He handed her the ring. “You forgot this on the dresser.”
She glanced down and gasped.
“I know you didn’t mean to forget it. Here, let me place it back on your finger.” He held up the ring. A hundred-year-old three-carat black diamond sat surrounded by a white diamond halo mounted in a gold band. Expensive enough to impress, without costing him a dollar. Lifting her left hand, he placed it on her ring finger.
“Henry, is this your countess?” Lynn left her client to lift Gabe’s hand and examine the ring. “I remember this ring on your mother.”
“When this charming lady fell into my lap, Lynn, I knew she was destined for Ripon.”
Gabe remained speechless until she was outside the salon. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, clenched her hands into fists, and placed them on her hips. “Engaged? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking you’re a beautiful woman I met at a social function. It would not stretch the bounds of reason to be engaged to you, darling.”
She stepped back and made a noise like a growl. “Don’t ever call me ‘darling.’ It’s a term used by domineering assholes who pretend they care more than they do.”