Chapter 13 #2
Her stomach twisted, recalling the last time she had seen them, their threats and displeasure, their warnings.
“I think I would rather face Ferdinand again,” she muttered.
Gabriel let out an uncharacteristic snort. “I always thought you simpered at their sides, if I am being honest. That is what I heard, anyway.”
“From whom?”
“Associates here and there,” he answered dismissively. When Sibyl nudged his arm pointedly, he sighed. “I did some investigating after I realized you were Edmund’s wife. I did not know he was married.”
“Why would it have mattered?”
But Gabriel just avoided her gaze, steering her towards her parents.
“I once was that girl who did simper at their sides,” Sibyl blurted. “But I quickly began to see the cracks in their facade. I started seeing how they treated my sisters, and realized in turn how they were starting to treat me, and my attitude changed.”
“Good.” Gabriel nodded. “It seems as though they deserve to be challenged by all their daughters.”
With that, Sibyl smiled and approached her parents, right as Alicia turned from speaking with a friend. Her eyes widened upon spotting Sibyl, before she rushed forward, throwing her arms around her.
“Sibyl!” Alicia cried. “Heavens, you look stunning! How powerful you are. It’s as if the night itself walks amongst us.”
“All right, Alicia.” Sibyl giggled. “It is not all that.” She pulled away, smiling at her sister before turning to her parents. “Mother, Father.”
“Sibyl,” her mother greeted.
Her father just inclined his head, his attention focused on Gabriel, who was standing firmly at her side.
“Your Grace,” her mother added. “It is a shame your sisters are not here, Sibyl darling. It would have been much better. Less… tense.”
Tense, Sibyl thought with an inward laugh. It would not be tense if you both would just be a little kinder, a little more open to your daughters’ lives beyond your expectations.
“I did think they would be here,” she admitted. “Along with their husbands.”
“They could not have known you would attend,” Alicia said quickly, perhaps sensing an incoming round of bickering. “They thought you were still avoiding social events, given…” She frowned, shrinking a little. “Everything.”
“Oh, Alicia, do not bring up such nastiness,” their mother chided. “We are here for you to find a husband; do not let your focus stray.”
“You never change, Mother,” Sibyl sighed, reaching out to take Alicia’s hand in support.
“Yes, and neither do you, it seems.”
Sibyl found herself pinned beneath her mother’s appraising gaze. She recoiled, her back hitting Gabriel’s side as her mother began fussing.
“Who on earth chose opals for your hair, Sibyl? It does not go well with your coloring. And Heavens, do not slouch! You are a duchess now. It is a shame we did not curb your love of reading, for your back looks like that of an octogenarian. Honestly, Sibyl, you must be perfect. Have I not guided you well enough on such matters?”
“My wife is perfect, Lady Wickleby,” Gabriel interjected. Sibyl jerked her head to look at him, surprised. “In every way. In how she looks, in how she has taken to her new role. You have guided her well. But more so, she has guided herself perfectly.”
Her mother opened her mouth to answer, but Gabriel stepped purposefully between them, blocking any further remarks. Right as he did, the orchestra began playing the first song of the evening.
Sibyl instinctively looked for a spot to stand, feeling as though she were a debutante again, waiting for her mother to reject suitors on her behalf while watching the ones she wanted to dance with take other partners.
I am not that girl anymore, she reminded herself. Nor am I the wife of an earl who barely ever danced with me. Now I am the wife of a duke who will likely refuse to dance and—
“Duchess,” Gabriel murmured, already holding out his hand. “Will you have the first dance with me?”
Sibyl’s eyes widened, despite how hard she tried to mask her surprise. She fought back a question, something foolish like, You… want to dance with me?
No, she needed to be confident, regardless of whether Gabriel wanted to dance or was simply keeping up appearances.
She slipped her hand into his and nodded. “Of course I will.”
He gave her a wry, tense smile before guiding her onto the dance floor. She was aware of eyes watching them as they took their place among other couples, and a waltz began.
“You know how to dance, no?” he asked.
“Every lady knows how to dance,” Sibyl scoffed, offended.
“Oh, not every lady, believe me.”
“That sounds like a story there.”
Gabriel guided her smoothly into the first steps before snorting.
“Let us just say that it involves one of my first balls before I was even twenty years old, a lady who got too excited about free-flowing champagne, and the two left feet she possessed. It ended with my bruised toes. Very bruised toes.”
“Ouch.” Sibyl winced.
“Ouch, indeed,” Gabriel muttered. “Have you stepped on any man’s toes while dancing?”
“No, thankfully, though Alicia has. However, I am not entirely certain it was not purposeful.”
“Heavens help the suitor your mother will choose for her, then.”
“Indeed,” Sibyl sighed.
Despite their dancing skills, they moved around one another stiffly. Sibyl didn’t want to move her hands too high up his body, but she didn’t want to rest them on his biceps either, or else her thoughts would drift to uncharted territory.
She didn’t want to be too close to him and focus on his body heat, nor how it reminded her of how he had pressed against her during their kiss in the kitchen.
Every inch of her was alive, and she was so aware of herself, holding herself away from him. As for Gabriel, he seemed to be doing the same. His elbow was held at an awkward angle, his shoulders tight and rigid.
Their footsteps lacked the fluidity other couples displayed, and Sibyl mourned for that briefly, until she looked around as Gabriel spun her. The eyes on her increased the pressure in her chest, as though she were being crushed beneath a boulder.
The ton watched, but even if some admired her, most judged her, and she could not escape the stares. The back of her neck prickled with unease.
“I regret coming,” she mumbled, unable to take much more. “I was so excited at first, but now… now I am not.”
In response, Gabriel placed his hand on her waist, his fingers warm and comforting. It drew her focus away from the crowd.
“Remember what this is for,” he murmured. “This is all for your daughter’s sake. You are a duchess now. You are above every single person in this ballroom, and I will not let you forget it.”
His eyes held hers, and something twisted deeply in Sibyl’s gut as she forced herself not to look away.
Around them, the music swelled, the violin proclaiming a beautiful melody above the other instruments.
Sibyl’s breath caught. The rest of the ballroom faded away. All she saw was her husband’s brown eyes, reminding her exactly who she was in a world that had been determined to let her fade into the background, forgotten or blamed.
No, she was Sibyl. She was the Duchess of Stonehelm, and she was seen.
Gabriel nodded once, as though he saw the shift in her thoughts, and released her waist when the music ended. He stepped back.
Sibyl was expecting him to walk away from her, to greet an associate or tell her to spend time with her family, but he only gave her a knowing look and offered his arm again.
He guided her off the dance floor and over to the refreshments table, where she could not help but eye the raspberry tart, large enough to feed at least twenty. When she glanced back at Gabriel, he was watching her, amused.
“Your preferences are noted, Duchess,” he teased as he cut her a slice.
Pleasantly surprised, Sibyl accepted it. But right as they turned, a man strode up to them, his slicked-back hair as dark as night, his smile a touch too wide.
Sibyl felt her husband tense at her shoulder.
“Your Grace!” he called out, opening his arms in greeting.
Sibyl glanced at Gabriel, not sure which of them the man had greeted.
“Gabriel! Heavens, it has been some time, has it not? And it is about time I met your new wife, whom you have kept so very hidden.”
“Not hidden, Cousin. We are simply enjoying our honeymoon like a normal couple.”
Sibyl frowned at how bored Gabriel sounded. Then, she held out her hand for the man to take it.
“Duchess, this is Lord Preston, my cousin on my father’s side. Preston, this is Sibyl Redford, my wife and the Duchess of Stonehelm.”
“Oh, trust me, an introduction is not necessary. News of your wife has traveled far and wide,” Preston all but purred, his eyes fixed on her. “And why not? She is very beautiful.”
Gabriel tensed even more before sighing. “Do not push me, Preston.”
“I would never.” Preston looked incredibly offended before he winked at Sibyl.
Still, she appreciated his affable demeanor. It was better than the sneers she had become accustomed to.
“It is lovely to meet you,” she offered. “I apologize, I have not met more of my husband’s family sooner.”
“Ah, well, Gabriel has always been secretive.”
Before Sibyl could press for more information, she saw her sister shove her way through the crowd, her face thunderous.
Alicia arrived like a storm and grabbed her arm. “I need my sister,” she announced.
Without waiting for a response, she pulled Sibyl away from the two men, who were locked in a scowling match.
“Thank you,” Sibyl snorted as soon as they were out of earshot. “I do believe my husband does not like his cousin.”
“Well, the look he was giving him certainly confirms it. Have you even greeted anybody properly tonight? I imagine not, especially if you are worried, as Mama says you ought to be. But I know you are stronger than her beliefs about you.”
“Am I?” Sibyl mused.