Chapter 12
Gabriel should not have followed her to the village.
As the distance expanded between him and the manor, his strength waned, making him weak.
His hands shook. His breathing labored. Sweat popped out on his forehead and trickled down his spine.
Victoria did not seem to notice. Or if she did, she concealed it.
How could he explain it to her? She wouldn’t understand. He could leave the boundary of the manor to visit the village, but only for a short time and never very far.
But he was determined to see her safe, to make sure she made it to and from without incident. And then the young man in the post…telling her the halls of the manor were haunted by the lady who died here.
Well…the boy wasn’t wrong. But Gabriel was not ready for that bit of knowledge to come to light.
The sky split without warning. One moment, a frail sun blinked behind gauzy clouds. The next, darkness crashed down as though the heavens had swallowed the light.
Gabriel’s first thought was of Victoria. She said she planned to be in the garden. He’d mentioned she wear a hat. But he hadn’t seen her after that. He checked her room. Empty. He hurried back down the stairs to the study. Not there.
Perhaps she’d been caught out in the rain on her way back to the manor. Any minute now, she’d come through the door soaked to the bone.
He paced the foyer, the grandfather clock ticking louder with every pass. Thunder cracked. The storm raged. Heart pounding, he stopped, staring at the front door. Willing her to return.
When she still hadn’t returned long minutes later, he had to act.
He hurried through the kitchen to the back door that exited into the back half of the garden.
Rain pelted him as he barreled down the steps.
The wind gusted through the garden, stripping petals from their stems like confetti, hurling them into the air in a frenzied dance of ruin.
Panic lanced through him when Victoria was nowhere to be found. By now, his clothes were soaked and his shoes were muddy. But he kept going until he made it to the hedge garden.
He halted there, rain running down his face in rivulets. Then he saw it. The fallen branch through the greenhouse roof.
And his heart lurched.
Certainly, she wasn’t in there?
He sprinted toward it calling her name. She didn’t answer. The door was wedged shut. He pressed his face against one of the windows, peering through the deluge.
A flash of pale blue against shattered glass. Oh, saints.
“Victoria!”
She didn’t move. She couldn’t hear him.
Adrenaline pumping through him, he went back to the door and grabbed the aging handle.
The wind must have slammed it shut. He jerked with all his strength once, twice, three times until finally the door gave and opened.
Opening it wide, he secured it with a heavy rock to keep it from blowing closed again.
Inside, his feet crunched on broken glass. How she escaped being slashed to ribbons by the glass, he didn’t know. Blood dampened the side of her head.
He scooped her up, cradling her against his chest as he hurried out of the greenhouse and back down the footpath. The rain continued to fall as he made it back to the house. With the heel of his shoe, he kicked the door, slamming it shut.
Rather than carry her upstairs, he headed to the sitting room, the oldest part of the manor, behind the study.
There, he gently lowered her down to the settee and pulled off her shoes.
Her damp gown clung to her. Her chestnut hair, normally styled to perfection, was plastered against her head, the long lengths dripping down the pillow onto the velvet cushion.
Then he turned to the hearth and quickly got the fire going. It only took a few minutes before the flickering flames warmed the small room.
Gabriel dropped down on his knees, his face inches from hers. Her eyes were closed. Her long lashes curled upward. Reaching for her, he nudged away a damp piece of hair to get a good look at the cut on the side of her head. It didn’t look bad, but it would need to be cleaned.
He rose, standing there at her side with his heart racing and his hands clenched. His damp clothes left small circles around him. His soaked shoes left muddy halos on the polished wood.
But she was safe.
He didn’t have time to waste. He could already sense her in the shadows, watching.
He rushed from the room to find medical supplies.
He’d have to hurry before Lenore decided to make an appearance.
Once he’d gathered all he needed, plus a plush blanket, he returned to the study, closing the door behind him.
As he dabbed the blood away from her wound, the storm raged on. Though he knew Lenore had nothing to do with the sudden thunderstorm, it was hard not to blame her after the threat.
When he finished, he placed the blanket over Victoria, tucking it around her to keep her warm.
Then he sat on the floor, resting his back against the settee to watch the flames, and wait for her to wake.
Victoria came awake suddenly. Her head throbbed.
Her vision swam. She blinked into flickering shadows, uncertain if she’d crossed into some half-lit realm between the living and the lost. She tried to sit up, but her limbs were tangled in a blanket.
She flailed, crying out, her thoughts spinning as she grasped for memory.
“Shh.”
Gabriel.
Suddenly, he was there. Resting on the narrow edge of the sofa cushion. He grasped her hands in his, holding her steady. A crack of thunder made her jerk. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight against him. Against his warmth.
“It’s all right.”
Her ear was pressed against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. First instinct was to shove out of his arms, but he felt so nice. So warm. So safe. Her eyes were drowsy again. Her head still pounding.
Across from her, a warm cheerful fire.
She whimpered again, still trying to right her senses.
His arms tightened around her as he gently rocked her, to comfort her. “You’re safe now, Victoria. I’m here.”
He said her name.
Something about the way he uttered her name sent a shiver of familiarity through her. As though she’d heard him say her name before.
“Y-you said my name.” Her teeth chattered, despite his warmth.
She didn’t know why.
“I’ve thought it a thousand times.” His voice was quiet in the solitude of the room.
He had?
Her breath pooled in her throat as they clung to each other.
There was something haunting about the way he said her name, the way it lilted off his tongue as though he had not only contemplated it countless times, but said it. With reverence. With a deep-seated need that stirred the dust in the corners of her memory.
A long-forgotten childhood memory surfaced. When she wandered through the misty halls of the west wing, knowing she was not supposed to be there. When she stood in the corridor, holding her favorite doll, staring into the gloom.
Her doll. The gloom. The dark-eyed man who stood still as stone with eyes full of sorrow and despair. Helping her find her way back to her room through the drafty corridors while her parents slept.
He was kind. He was gentle.
He was…Gabriel.
Warmth bloomed in her chest, chasing away the last vestiges of fear. She lifted her gaze to his, searching his unyielding face for signs he was the man in the shadows, the man she had seen lurking in shadows long ago. And she knew he was.
He looked down at her, meeting her gaze. His eyes, usually so guarded, were soft now. Honest.
Lonely.
And that loosed something deep within her. Something she hadn’t even known was there. A deep ache pounded through her.
She was lonely, too.
Yet, here they were. Together. Holding on to each other while the storm continued above their heads. Here, in the hush between thunderclaps, they hovered in a fragile peace.
“You’ve never said it before.” Her voice was a cautious whisper, as though saying those words aloud would break whatever spell surrounded them.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have.” He looked away toward the fire. The light flickered in the depths of his onyx eyes. “You deserve a better man than me.”
His arms dropped away. He shifted to the far end of the settee, leaving her adrift in a sea of emotion.
A thousand questions danced on her tongue, but none of them mattered. Not now.
What mattered was the truth in his voice. The quiet almost-confession in the middle of a storm. The way he had held her like she was precious.
Her hand trembled as she reached for his.
He didn’t pull away. Their eyes met, but she said nothing as they gazed at each other for a long, intense moment.
Gabriel looked away, but he allowed her to hold his hand.
He stared at their joined hands as though unsure what to do with the contact.
As if the warmth of another person was something he’d long forgotten.
There were walls built around him. Thick, stone walls. She understood. She had them, too. The only sound was the soft crackle of the fire. The relief pounding through her that she was here and not still on the floor of the greenhouse was palpable.
“I’m glad you found me,” she murmured.
He slipped his hand away and stood. “You’re welcome. I’ll bring tea and something to eat. You must be starving.”
When he left, she pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them. Resting her chin on her knees, she stared into the flickering firelight.
He’d found her. He’d said her name. She knew who he was.
And now, everything had changed.