by Dayna Quince
He wasn’t money minded, and God knew he didn’t know how to grow anything but facial hair. He was a man of action. He liked tempting fate and risking his own neck, but hell if he knew how to take care of other people, not good decent people. Give him a crew of ruffians, and he could lead them down the Nile, but good English folk? They terrified him. He was the last person who should be filling his uncle’s shoes. He’d neglected to take any of his advice, refused to take part in anything that had to do with Belfrost, and had even scorned his uncle’s attempts to bond with him.
Before the stroke of midnight, Hubert collected him along with the footman, Richard. They met his uncle’s secretary at the village church where his uncle would reside in preparation for his burial. The secretary had tried to introduce himself, but Gabriel had been deaf and blind to everything but his uncle’s casket. Gabriel did have enough presence of mind to thank the priest, and then he returned to the house and the dreaded study chair.
Gabriel wasn’t fit to sit in this chair, but here he was, and the weight it was crushing. He couldn’t do this. He cradled his head in his hands and just sat there, hating himself. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the fire was gasping for breath, and his candle had guttered. Feeling cold and agitated, he walked the dark halls to his room, stopping outside his door.
He looked across the hall. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he could see her door clearly. It beckoned him. All the relief and distraction he needed was on the other side of that door. He knew she’d welcome him with open arms, desperate to feel anything but sadness, just like him. Was he a bastard to take advantage of it?
Yes.
But he was going to do it anyway because even though the heaven would be short lived, he needed her near. He needed to clear his head of everything but her and wallow in the soft cradle of her body until he could manage just a few hours of sleep. She would understand.
He scratched at her door. She opened it a crack and then wider.
“I thought I told you never to open your door to scratching.” He warned. If she turned him away, he would accept it gracefully, at least in front of her.
“Only you would dare scratch at my door,” she whispered back.
“Can I come in?” he pleaded, aware of how desperate he sounded.
Not only did she open her door, but she also opened her arms. Gabriel never looked back as he closed to door and stepped into her waiting embrace. This was what he needed. Her. Only her.
* * *
Before the dawn fully broke, Gabriel left her bed. He bathed and dressed in his room and returned to the study. Upon entering, the light of dawn pierced the curtains. Curious, he pulled them wide. The view wasn’t half bad. It overlooked the garden and the hills in the distance. If he looked closely, he could see the lodge where this misadventure had all begun. Gabriel opened the window. The air was bracing, but it felt good. The room needed air, as did he.
Gabriel considered the desk and surprisingly, it didn’t affect him as it had yesterday. The loss of his uncle was still felt like a boulder in his chest, but somehow, Gabriel bore it. He approached the desk warily. Everything was as he’d left it yesterday, so why did it feel different today? He gingerly sat and placed his hands on the desk.
He took a deep breath and wondered what he was supposed to do now. He should have asked his uncle that a long time ago. Gabriel had been a fool to think he could ignore his responsibility. He’d been immature and reckless, never considering his uncle could be here one day and gone the next. Why had he been so stupid?
Gabriel berated himself. He felt pathetic, he felt like a child, and worst of all, he missed his father, and that made him feel like the worst sort of human being. His uncle wasn’t buried yet, and all Gabriel could think was that if only his father were here, it would be all right. His father would show him what to do. That is precisely what Uncle Henry had tried to do for many years, to show Gabriel how to become the man he needed to be before becoming Lord Belfrost. And Gabriel had thrown it all back in his face.
The door opened unexpectedly, jerking Gabriel from his mental self-flagellation. The secretary, Mr. Sadler, entered.
“Oh! Beg your pardon, my lord. I didn’t realize you’d be awake this early. Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Mr. Sadler.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I make use of the study. Lord Belfrost never did, god rest his soul.”
Gabriel suppressed a snarl. His uncle wasn’t yet at rest. There was something about Mr. Sadler that irked Gabriel, but he likened it to his own foul temper rather than something Mr. Sadler was doing. “You’re likely more familiar with the study than I am.” Gabriel stood. He hadn’t been able to do anything in here but stare at the walls and argue with himself. “I’m going to check on my aunt if you have need of me.”
“Very good, sir. I’m just going to inform the necessary people of his lordships passing and the like.”
“Very good,” Gabriel repeated back and moved toward the door.
“My lord?”
Gabriel paused. It was strange to be addressed as such, and yet he answered to it without thought. “Yes, Mr. Sadler.”
“I want to assure you that I worked closely with the late Lord Belfrost and have everything in hand. You needn’t worry about a thing. The transfer will be smooth, and in a matter of weeks you can get back to your travels.”
Gabriel frowned. “I can’t continue to travel. I’m needed here.” He watched as Mr. Sadler made an odd face and then remembered himself and corrected it.
“Of course, sir. But should you wish to, I can handle all estate matters and keep you apprised through regular correspondence.”
“Is that what my uncle did?”
“No…” Sadler hesitated. “But we discussed it at length, Lord Belfrost and I, should the inevitable happen whilst you were away and unreachable.”
“Well, it so happens I am not away and unreachable. I’m here, Mr. Sadler, and I have no intention of abandoning my duty and my aunt.” Gabriel took new stock of Mr. Sadler in the light of morning. He still didn’t like him. He didn’t think Gabriel fit to fill his uncle’s shoes and Gabriel would happen to agree, at the moment. But Gabriel didn’t back down from a challenge. He would prove Sadler wrong.
Gabriel locked gazes with Mr. Sadler, and Mr. Sadler looked away. “Very well, my lord. I am at your services if you have need of me.”
“I most certainly will, Mr. Sadler. We will meet later this morning to discuss… whatever it is you think I need to know at this point. I have much to learn about the estate.” Gabriel wasn’t so prideful that he couldn’t admit he needed Mr. Sadler.
“Yes, sir—” Mr. Sadler colored. “That is, I didn’t mean to imply…”
“Until later, Mr. Sadler.” Gabriel left the study and headed toward his aunt’s room. He knocked twice and entered, happy to see both his aunt and Rose breaking their fast. He kissed his aunt’s cheek and moved a chair to their table.
“Have you broken your fast, Gabriel?” she asked.
“Not yet.” He was amazed by her strength. She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t look to be on the verge of breaking down.
“Please do,” his aunt offered. There was an array of dishes crowding the small table.
Everything looked delicious, but first, he needed to give Rose a proper look. She was busy buttering a scone. She looked enchanting in her lavender dress, and it was refreshing to see her in something other than black. He absorbed her beauty, like a reviving, deep breath, and then addressed the needs of his stomach. She bore his scrutiny without apparent notice, but he could tell by the stain of blush on the crests of her cheeks that she was aware of him.
They hadn’t spoken much since they arrived here. She’d ambushed him in the study last night with her soulful eyes and caring touch. His emotions were so raw, even the quiet sigh of her breathing aroused him. She soothed him in a way nothing ever had. By all rights, he should be drunk. That’s how men usually grieved, but all he
needed was Rose. A look, a gentle touch, and he turned to pudding. It made him wonder, with more than a little trepidation, what he would become when she left.
There was no time like the present to broach the subject. The sooner he knew, the longer he had to come to terms with it.
“How long do you plan to stay, Miss Owens? Have you given thought to your plans for traveling to Scotland?”
“Scotland!” His aunt set her spoon down with a clatter.
He didn’t have to look at Rose. He could feel her glare scorching the back of his neck. He faced his aunt. “You can’t expect her to stay as your companion forever, Aunt. You went to great pains to make it otherwise.”
“Rose is not here as my companion. She is here as my friend,” his aunt declared. “She can leave whenever she wishes.”
He turned to Rose. “And your thoughts on the matter?”
“I haven’t thought of Scotland at all, you oaf. Circumstances have changed.” She bit off a piece of sausage savagely, and Gabriel winced.
“Have a care, Miss Owens.”
Rose raised a coy brow, and suddenly, he felt ten times lighter. He could even manage a smile. He suppressed it, afraid to show too much levity in his aunt’s presence.
“Men don’t like to see phallic objects mutilated,” his aunt said.
Rose coughed into her napkin, and Gabriel sat in stunned silence. His aunt chewed her own sausage in abject innocence. He had half a mind to comment on what she perceived to know about men and phallic objects but decided he better not. He inwardly shuddered and turned back to Rose. “But what of your laird and castle?”
She set her fork down in a resigned fashion and dotted her mouth with her napkin. She was ignoring him, it seemed. That was fine. She didn’t ignore him last night. She could pretend she wasn’t affected by him by the light of day. He would always know the truth.
“Rose has a laird in Scotland?” his aunt said with wonder.
“An imaginary laird. We spoke of her options after your entrapment, and she decided to move to Scotland and marry a laird.”
“I did not,” Rose said in exasperation.
He grinned at her distress.
“Rose?” His aunt leaned across the table and took her hand. “You must be honest with me. Do you have a laird in Scotland pinning for your favor?”
The horror on Rose’s face that quickly transformed into a fury directed at him was too much to bare in conjunction with the shock that his aunt—though she looked perfectly serious, was adding to the farce.
“If there is a laird, he lives in Mr. Connors imagination.” Rose pulled her hand away as Fanny and Gabriel laughed.
“Did you know she is friends with a duchess and no less than two countesses?”
Rose sputtered with anger on his right, but he was currently focused on his aunt, who looked a haughtily amused.
“Two, you say? My, what excellent connections you have, Rose. How wasted they will be on a highland laird,” his aunt said.
Rose tossed her head and folded her arms. “I’m so glad I provide such amusement for the both of you. Yes, I have a very good friend in Scotland who happens to be the Duchess of Ablehill. I thought to visit her.”
“Now, I’m woefully inept when it comes to society, but will your duchess know what is under a Scotsman’s kilt?” Gabriel teased. Perhaps it was wrong, but his aunt looked like she was enjoying herself, so he had to continue.
“I would assume so. She did marry a Scotsman. Though his blood is English, he was raised in Scotland,” Rose deadpanned.
Gabriel and his aunt erupted in laughter. Rose remained quiet while they collected themselves, but Gabriel noticed her pleased flush. He applauded her. “Well done, Rose.”
Her eyes widened. Hell, he didn’t mean to use her given name in front of his aunt. “My apologies, Miss Owens. I hear my aunt say it so frequently it slipped my tongue.”
“An apology is unneeded. We may as well dispense with formality given that we were trapped together.” She sent a pointed look toward his aunt.
Fanny shrugged. “I agree. What else did the two of you do to entertain yourselves?”
“We killed spiders,” Gabriel blurted.
“What!?”
“There was a nest in those curtains you left me under.”
“Oh, heavens.” His aunt fanned herself with her napkin.
“And a mouse jumped on me,” Rose added.
“Spiders and mice? I had no idea it was such a horrific experience. What a blessing the water finally receded so you could return.”
“It didn’t,” they said in unison.
“A tree fell and made its own bridge lower on the property.”
“Well, I admit that wasn’t the adventure I meant for you to have, but it sounds like a rousing lark anyway.”
Gabriel was happy to see her smiling, and the notion that she could still laugh eased his heart, but he would not so easily forgive her manipulation of them. He would save his lecture for another time.
“Now is not the time to speak of that occurrence, but I will say this. It didn’t work, aunt. We won’t be marrying.”
She didn’t hide her disappointment. “It was worth a try. Imagine my joy if I could have made both of you happy at once.”
They grew quiet after that. Gabriel cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I met Mr. Sadler. He may be essential in turning me into a proper landed gentleman.”
His aunt shrugged. “He does fine for the smaller properties, but I always take care of Belfrost.”
“You do?” He was flabbergasted.
“Of course! No one knows her house and her people better than the mistress does. Rose can help, too. She helps me with the house accounts on occasion.”
He turned to Rose. “You do?”
She lifted her nose primly. “I took care of everything for my father while he was ill. It’s nothing to be shocked about.”
“I’m not shocked. I’m impressed. I haven’t the faintest idea what I’m doing. Hieroglyphics make more sense to me than those ledgers.”
“You will have all the help you need. You only have to ask.” His aunt patted his hand.
Gabriel considered that. He didn’t like having to ask for help, but if what his aunt said were true, then Sadler had lied to him. He would rather trust his aunt before Sadler. “Then I will throw myself at your feet and beg for your assistance if you can bear it. I know this is difficult for you.” He took her hand and squeezed it. Her eyes grew misty, but she didn’t look away. She astonished him with a smile.
“Your uncle would be proud, Gabriel. I want you to know that.”
“Aunt…” He didn’t want her to go on, not when his own throat was constricting with guilt and sorrow.
“You’ve always taken your own path, and that is your way, but you are here when it matters most. Thank you.”
Gabriel nodded, unable to speak. They finished their breakfast in silence, and afterward, his aunt decreed they take themselves to the study, and she would walk Gabriel through the system she had devised.
Chapter 20
Three weeks later, and Gabriel had a renewed sense of purpose. The weather was growing colder, and the vegetation was changing for the coming winter. Gabriel touched his uncle’s polished marble headstone for good luck, as he did almost every morning at the end of his ride and returned to the manor. He would breakfast with his aunt and Rose, then head to the study for daily business.
If he’d known last year that this was his comfortable daily routine, he would have laughed, but now, he only smiled contentedly. Yes, he was content. He was Lord now, and every day was a new adventure. He dealt with tenant squabbles, escaped sheep, and roofs that needed mending. There were no caves to be explored or treacherous cliff faces to scale, but Gabriel was content.
He didn’t mind having a routine now, especially when it started every morning with Rose in his arms. The last three weeks had been tenuous. His uncle’s funeral had been a trial, but his aunt bore it better than h
e had expected. Things were settling into place now, and Gabriel was astonished at how quickly he was taking to the role of landowner. It was considerably less harrowing than his usual exploits, but at times just as dirty—as he discovered while trying to wrangle a rogue ram in mud—but significantly more rewarding. There wasn’t a thing he would change. He’d die a happy man if his life stayed just as it were from now on.
* * *
Rose woke that morning, annoyed to find herself naked and alone, the only hint of Gabriel’s presence the scent of him, and a large dent on her pillow. For three weeks, he’d come to her almost every night. She hadn’t the strength to say no, but she was soon going to say goodbye.
She was beginning to notice the looks of the others. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if Fanny suspected something as well. He treated her properly enough, but he’d grown too comfortable with this unspoken arrangement. As bold as she’d felt at the lodge when it was only the two of them, she couldn’t bare disgracing herself in front of people she knew. They were her friends. She respected them and cared about their good opinion of her.
They’d come away from their time at the lodge unscathed, but now Rose feared the worst. How could she face them when she was carrying on with him under Fanny’s nose as—as nothing better than a mistress? She was defiling them all with her shameful presence.
She would not do it any longer. She would take herself off to Scotland and cry all the way there as her heart broke into tiny, irreparable pieces. It had already begun. She’d never stop loving him, no matter how far she was from him, but she couldn’t carry on like a common doxy.
It didn’t help matters, although it was clear he cared for her to some extent, he hadn’t declared feeling any sort of lasting emotion. What was she to make of that? It was Peter all over again, only this time, Rose was wiser and older. She wouldn’t be expecting a proposal, not when they had both made it clear they couldn’t marry. But… that was before, ages ago, it seemed. Her heart was fully corrupted now, and if he offered, just like her body, she would be helpless to resist. For three weeks now, she watched him grow into everything he could be. He was assured of his rightful place as lord now, and Fanny, though she could still be found wiping tears on her sleeve from time to time, was managing her grief with grace and poise, far better than Rose ever had.
