Chapter 17 #2
“Yes, you.” He paused then, contemplation crossing his face. “What happened to your parents?”
The question surprised her, making her wince.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you—” he started.
“It’s all right,” she said, hastily. “It’s just that I hadn’t spoken of it to anyone.”
“You don’t have to now.”
“But I want to. I need to.” She drew her knees up, encircled them with her arms and rested her chin there. “They had been traveling. My father was on some sort of diplomatic trip. I never quite could keep up with their social calendar. They’d returned late that night.”
She paused, swallowing hard, as though she could still smell the acrid tang of smoke deep in her nose.
“I’m not sure how the fire started. But the old butler…he pounded on my bedroom door. It was the middle of the night, you see. When he…” She paused here, as her breath hitched.
He moved closer to her to give her courage and strength.
“When he opened the door, the heat was unbearable. Smoke poured inside my room. If it hadn’t been for Reginald…” Her words trailed off as she swallowed the sob that wanted to erupt.
“They didn’t make it out?” he guessed.
She shook her head. “No. The house burned to the ground. We—I—lost everything.”
She hadn’t expected the hot tears to burn the backs of her eyes, but there they were. She took a deep breath, expelled it.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice soft in the quiet of the room. He moved to reach for her, then drew his hand back, placing it in his lap. The firelight danced on his face full of empathy. And maybe a little pity.
“If it hadn’t been for my aunt and uncle, I’m not sure where I would have gone. They took me in.” She huffed out a humorless laugh. “And now, here I am. An orphaned heiress.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and then pressed his lips together as if he was surprised by his sudden admission.
“You are?”
“Certainly. Now I have someone to enjoy my cooking again.” He gave her a weak smile.
She did laugh that time, surprised at his jest.
Now that storm had passed, calm descended on the manor once again. She stifled a yawn.
“Well, I should head upstairs.”
She rose, heading for the door, but his voice stopped her.
“Victoria?”
She turned back. Their eyes met over the short distance. For the briefest of moments, she thought she saw adoration glinting in his gaze. He started to say something, then pressed his lips together.
Finally, he said, “Sleep well.”
“Goodnight, Gabriel.”
It seemed perfectly normal to be on a first name basis with him.
As she walked through the doorway, she was acutely aware of the sudden icy air. She shuddered. A creak overhead, which seemed odd. She glanced up and saw the old chandelier in the foyer swinging slightly.
Behind her, she heard Gabriel’s book hit the floor and his hurried footsteps as though he sensed something was about to happen.
Before she took another step, the chain holding the chandelier snapped with a loud crack, the wood around the bolt splintering. As she drew in a sharp breath, Gabriel’s arms were around her, pulling her out of the way just as the chandelier crashed against the floor and shattered.
A scream ripped from her throat as she turned into him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her shivering form against him. She buried her face into his chest.
“It’s all right,” he said into her hair. “I’ve got you.”
His voice, low and steady, wrapped around her. She clung to him. Not just out of fear from the near-miss, but something else. Something unspoken. Something deeper.
Affection. The beginnings of affection tugged at heart.
“What…what is happening?” she breathed.
She tilted her head up, their eyes colliding. In his gaze she saw it. Longing. Regret. Loneliness. A tenderness he didn’t try to hide that split her heart in two. In that instant, she understood. He felt the same.
Without thinking, she lifted on tiptoe, drawn by that longing and tenderness buried deep in his eyes. Her lips parted, her breath catching as she reached for him.
He pulled away, sharp and sudden, as though it pained him.
“No, Victoria.”
The words were barely above a whisper, but they cleaved through the air like a blade. He turned from her, his back rigid, his shoulders trembling ever so slightly.
It wasn’t rejection. It was something else. Something carved from guilt and centuries of solitude.
She stood there, suspended between desire and confusion, her heart hammering like a trapped bird. Something inside her said he wants this, too, but he believed he couldn’t have it.
“I’m sorry. I—”
He spun toward her, his eyes blazing brightly. “No. Forgive me. It’s not you. It’s…you don’t understand what I am.”
A breath shuddered through her lips, the image of the portrait flaring bright in her mind. “I do understand. I know who you are. You don’t frighten me. You didn’t then. You don’t now.”
He raked a shaking hand down his face, then turned away. Silence pressed around them. She remained rooted in place, her hands at her sides as the temperature shifted again. As though Lenore circled her.
“You don’t understand—” he started.
“You’re not just the caretaker,” she said, her breath pluming. “You’re something more. Something…else.”
She doesn’t deserve to know.
The words echoed around them. He spun back toward her, shadows pooling in his eyes.
“It’s this house. Once it snares you, it doesn’t let go. Victoria—” He stepped toward her, to close the distance, but the house groaned in response.
“It hasn’t let go of you?” Her voice shook in the shadowy darkness.
“No. It hasn’t. It won’t.”
He sounded so sad, so desolate it sent a pang right to her heart. Her throat tightened.
“Tell me. I want to know.”
Gabriel raked his fingers through his hair, making the ends stick up. “A ghost. But not the kind that fades.”
Not the kind that fades. The words echoed like a curse. A shadow trapped in flesh. A man on borrowed time.
That laugh followed. Maniacal. As though it—she—understood who and what he was.
“Go to bed, Victoria. I’ll clean this up.” His voice was terse, hard. Not at all like the man who spoke to her of fantasy worlds and swashbuckling pirates.
Terror lodged tight in her chest as she fled up the stairs. Behind her, the wreckage of the broken chandelier remained a shattered reminder something unseen watched, waited, and would not be ignored.
And below, Gabriel stood alone in the shadows, the firelight flickering across his face, illuminating the ache he could no longer hide.