Chapter 38
SHOUTS ECHOED FROM the plaster walls and ceiling. The sharp wail of scooting chairs and shuffling feet drowned out the tumultuous claps of thunder from the storm raging outside.
Ella stood at the back of the long gallery and watched hopelessly as Mr. Hawthorne and Mr. Shiveley—two educated, normally well-mannered gentlemen—engaged in a screaming match.
Another less animated group of members demanded answers from her father.
Across the chamber, Mr. Moore and Gabriel were both attempting to explain the details of what was happening to various clusters of men.
Members who already tended to err on the side of drama and sensationalism were working themselves into a frenzy.
As the volume increased, the tones became more pointed, the echoes escalated, and the general atmosphere grew more volatile.
There was only one thing to do: Send all the members away from Keatley Hall as soon as possible.
While her father, Gabriel, and the others attempted to appease the crowd, Ella and Mrs. Chatterly organized the servants, including the valets and ladies’ maids who had traveled with the guests, and began preparations for the members to depart.
While the confusion and mayhem continued in the long gallery, Ella worked methodically, instructing the stable hands to ready the carriages and horses, sending the footmen to town to arrange for public coaches, instructing the kitchens to prepare food for the guests to take as they traveled, and so forth.
Normally such an undertaking would take the entire last day of the symposium, but somehow they had managed to accomplish it in a matter of hours.
Ella was so busy and her attentions were so divided that she didn’t have time to be tired. She fixed her sights on one goal: Clear the guests. Then once Keatley Hall was quiet, they could refocus and formulate a plan.
It wasn’t until late afternoon that the last carriage conveying the last guest pulled away from Keatley Hall, leaving behind it an odd, uncomfortable silence that, in many ways, was worse than the shouting.
It was not until this point that she realized Mr. Abernathy, who had been so intent upon leading Keatley Hall, was gone.
She’d been so engaged during the day that she hadn’t noticed his departure, and he’d not taken the initiative to bid her farewell.
While Phoebe continued to sleep in her chamber, Ella, her father, Mr. Hawthorne, and Gabriel gathered in the White Parlor.
“I will be going to the home office the minute I return to London,” stated Mr. Hawthorne, interrupting her thoughts.
“I will be satisfied on this matter. I don’t care what that magistrate—what’s his name, Moore?
—says. Bauer will pay for what he did to us.
Miss Sutton and Gutt will pay as well. I don’t care if it’s midnight when we arrive—I will be heard. ”
Ella winced as she thought of Phoebe’s weak state. “Surely you don’t mean to leave yet today.”
“Of course I do!” Mr. Hawthorne shot back.
“Well, then Phoebe will stay here, surely,” she stated. “She needs to recover. Her head—”
“My daughter can recover in London just as well as she can here. The journey is not that far.”
Ella stiffened at the harshness in his tone. “I wish you would recon—”
“Are you an expert on my family now?” he hurled. “She will come home. I think we’ve all had quite enough of Keatley Hall for the time being.”
Ella snapped her mouth shut and blinked away the forming tears. Everyone was tired and on edge. Was this what it had all come to?
As Mr. Hawthorne continued to spew his angry rhetoric, she looked over at Gabriel, who stood in front of the bank of east-facing windows.
He was leaning back against the windowsill with his arms folded across his chest and was blankly staring at the rug covering the planked floor.
He’d abandoned his coat at some point of the day, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
Dried mud covered the toes of his calfskin Wellington boots, and the shadow of a beard hugged his jawline.
Ella was not so tired that she didn’t notice how attractive—how rugged—he appeared. Even so, his usual easy smile was gone. The laughter and amusement that normally resided in his bright expression had faded.
He glanced up at her and saw her watching him.
Her chest squeezed within her as their eyes met, but not just because of the way he looked at her.
It jumped with sadness. His departure was imminent—there was no reason for him to remain.
The symposium was over, and Gabriel still had a job to do.
He would likely leave yet that evening and make it back to London by nightfall.
As her father and Mr. Hawthorne continued to discuss details, Ella approached Gabriel, a bout of unexpected shyness overtaking her. After all they’d experienced together, she should feel more confident, but the day had been unlike any other. Nothing seemed normal. Nothing seemed right.
“Thank you for helping to organize things as everyone was leaving. I know it was chaotic. I—I appreciate your help.”
He straightened from the windowsill as she stepped closer and pivoted toward her, closing the space between them. His voice was tired but alluringly soft. “There’s no way I’d leave you to handle this alone.”
She swallowed hard and diverted her eyes. Surely this heightened emotional state she was experiencing had to do with her lack of sleep and the dramatic events of the last twenty-four hours. It was easier to blame that than to admit the vulnerable truth.
Could she be falling in love with him?
Eager to fill the heart-wrenching silence, she tucked her hair behind her ear and tried to force lightness to her voice. “I suppose you will be headed back to London soon.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes. Given that Bauer is out there somewhere, time is critical.”
He glanced up and Ella followed his gaze.
Her father and Mr. Hawthorne were exiting the room.
She and Gabriel were alone.
He reached forward and took her hand in his. He slowly rubbed his thumb over the back of it for several moments. “Are you going to be all right? I hate leaving you here. Alone.”
Alone.
The word rattled in her tired mind. She was always alone, really.
Even when the school was full of students, she was usually by herself.
Normally it didn’t matter. But after being with Gabriel, knowing what it felt like to be truly understood by another person, the idea of solitude was almost frightening.
“Please do not worry for me.” She forced a smile. “There is going to be plenty to do to keep my mind occupied.”
His concerned expression did not change. “You say that, but I am still going to think of you. Often.”
His words stole her ability to respond. To breathe. The heat of impending tears burned her tired eyes. She blinked them away.
“Ella, I’m not exactly sure what happened these last couple of days, but I don’t think I am the same man I was when I arrived here a few days ago. I know I’m not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . I know you now. You’ve captivated me. I don’t know what the future holds, but I will promise that I’ll return as soon as I am able, if you’ll allow me. I’ll be with you as we get to the bottom of this and right the wrongs that have occurred here. Do you believe me?”
With both hands he lifted her hand and kissed it. The warmth of the touch flooded through her, igniting every emotion.
Gabriel did not depart in a carriage as he had arrived.
Instead, Ella watched from the White Parlor window as he thundered through Keatley Hall’s iron gates on horseback, with his oilskin coat flapping behind in the night’s gathering darkness.
Each second increased the distance between them, and her breath shuddered.
Her soul longed to believe that he would be returning soon to Keatley Hall as he had said, but such a thought seemed far too romantic, given the task ahead of them all.
She had to rely on what she knew how to do, and that was to be practical.
As she turned from the window to the excruciating darkness of the empty chamber, a tear slipped down her cheek. Whether she liked it or not, he had taken her heart with him. And she hoped he would bring it back.