Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Gabriel found Mrs. Jacobs in the household larder reviewing the stock.
The housekeeper stood at a table with several ledgers spread before her, her spectacles balanced low upon her nose.
She looked up when he entered and curtsied.
After years of managing Anderton Manor, she remained one of the few people who did not visibly tremble in his presence.
Gabriel considered that both admirable and occasionally inconvenient.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Jacobs said, setting aside her pen as she straightened her apron, “has the young lady recovered?”
“She has,” Gabriel replied, stopping before the table with his hands clasped behind his back. “Her name is Miss Amelia Shirley.”
Mrs. Jacobs’ eyes widened with interest. “Miss Amelia Shirley,” she repeated thoughtfully. “That sounds considerably better than ‘the unconscious lady from the road’.”
“It is marginally shorter.”
Mrs. Jacobs smiled despite herself.
Gabriel continued before she could ask questions. “She will remain here for the time being.”
The housekeeper’s eyebrows rose. “Remain, Your Grace?”
“She will be David’s governess.”
Mrs. Jacobs stared at him. For several moments, she simply stared. Then her face lit with unmistakable delight. “Oh, that is wonderful news,” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. “The poor child has needed a proper governess.”
Gabriel resisted the urge to point out that she had informed him of that fact at least twice a week.
Mrs. Jacobs shook her head in amazement. “And such a lovely young lady, too.”
Gabriel narrowed his eyes slightly. “You have not spoken to her.”
Mrs. Jacobs waved away the objection. “One learns these things.”
Gabriel had absolutely no idea what that meant. The housekeeper studied him for a moment before her expression became more curious. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but is Miss Shirley a trained governess?”
Gabriel stared at her. Mrs. Jacobs stared back. The silence stretched.
Finally, Gabriel shrugged. “She is now. Ensure she has everything she requires,” he instructed.
“Of course, Your Grace,” she said.
“And keep an eye on her.” Gabriel’s voice became stern.
Mrs. Jacobs blinked. “An eye on her?”
Gabriel’s expression hardened slightly. “I know nothing about Miss Amelia Shirley except that she appeared unconscious on a roadside.”
The housekeeper’s smile faded. “Ah.”
“I trust no one,” he said. That, at least, was a statement nobody in the county would dispute.
Mrs. Jacobs folded her hands neatly before her. “You suspect her of being untrustworthy?”
“I suspect everyone.” The answer felt entirely reasonable to Gabriel. “I intend to discover precisely who she is and why she was traveling alone,” Gabriel continued. “Until then, she remains under my roof and under a watchful eye.”
The housekeeper nodded slowly. “Very well, Your Grace.”
Gabriel gave a short nod and turned towards the door. As he left the office, he found himself thinking about Amelia Shirley once more. That irritated him. She was temporary. A mystery to solve. Nothing more. Yet something about her story refused to fit neatly together.
I had to make those pleas stop, for they simply exhausted me to the point of striking a deal. Still, I cannot set a young lady out there where danger could befall her. I have more honor than that.
Most young ladies did not flee from their families without careful explanation and suitable scandal management.
They certainly did not then offer themselves up as governesses within hours of arrival at a stranger’s home, nor did they appear relieved at the arrangement as though some invisible weight had been lifted.
The thought lingered with Gabriel longer than he liked, unwelcome and mildly irritating, before he dismissed it as irrelevant speculation.
Whoever Miss Shirley is, she is now part of my household, and speculation is warranted.
Pushing the matter aside with practiced discipline, Gabriel made his way upstairs.
His intention was simple enough: to check on Valerie before the day properly began and invite her to a breakfast meeting.
As he approached her bedchamber, however, voices drifted into the corridor, carrying an ease that made him slow his steps without actually understanding why.
Valerie rarely spoke in anything beyond brief, measured responses when he was present.
More often than not, she seemed to exist in a state of quiet compliance, carefully contained and distant.
Yet now she sounded entirely different. Lively. Animated. Unburdened. Gabriel stopped outside the partially open door without announcing himself, the instinct to listen overtaking courtesy.
“Then he tripped over his own boots,” Valerie said, her voice bright with laughter she did not seem to be restraining at all. “I thought Cook would faint on the spot.”
Her maid Trixie’s giggle followed immediately. “Oh, I wish I had seen it.”
“You should have seen his face,” Valerie continued, still laughing. “It was absolutely glorious.”
Gabriel frowned faintly at the threshold.
Was this Valerie?
This voice belonged to someone else entirely. Something unfamiliar tightened in his chest as he listened, though he did not identify it as concern.
When was the last time I heard her laugh like that?
He could not recall a single instance that troubled him more than he cared to acknowledge. For a moment, he remained outside the door, listening to the exchange as though it belonged to another household entirely. Then, with deliberate control, he pushed the door open.
The change inside the room was immediate and absolute.
Valerie’s laughter vanished as though it had never existed.
Her posture corrected itself at once, shoulders drawing back with practiced precision.
The lightness in her expression disappeared, replaced with careful composure that settled over her like a mask.
“Uncle Gabriel,” she said, rising from her chair with formal politeness.
Her maid stood as well and curtsied, her earlier amusement gone so quickly that it might have been imagined. The room itself seemed to shift, becoming smaller.
Gabriel resisted the urge to sigh. “Valerie,” he said, stepping fully into the room.
His niece folded her hands neatly in front of her, every gesture exact. “Yes, Uncle?”
The contrast struck him more sharply now that he stood within it. Moments ago, she had sounded like a child at ease in her own skin. Now she sounded as though she were addressing a formal inquiry rather than her guardian.
Gabriel realized, with mild discomfort, that he had no idea how to bridge the gap between those two versions of her.
“I wish for us to have breakfast together this morning,” he said.
Valerie blinked, the only break in her composure. “Breakfast together?”
“Yes.”
The surprise flickered across her face before she quickly smoothed it away again. It was not a request they were accustomed to, and neither of them pretended otherwise. The three of them rarely shared meals. Routine, distance, and habit had long since dictated separate rhythms within the house.
Gabriel ignored her confusion. “There is someone I intend to introduce,” he added.
Valerie’s gaze briefly shifted toward Trixie before returning to him. “Very well, Uncle,” she replied with perfect politeness.
There it was again. That careful tone. That controlled distance. The same tone she always used with him. Gabriel studied her for a moment longer, his thoughts drifting uncomfortably back to the laughter he had overheard only minutes earlier. The warmth of it. The ease. The absence of restraint.
Valerie could laugh freely with her maid. She could speak without caution when she believed herself unobserved. Yet with him, she became someone else entirely.
The realization settled heavily, more persistent than he liked. Perhaps, he considered, the children did not simply respect him.
Perhaps they fear me.
The thought was not one he welcomed.
“Breakfast in half an hour,” Gabriel said at last, giving a short nod that ended the exchange.
“Yes, Uncle,” Valerie replied without hesitation.
There was nothing more to say. There rarely was. Gabriel turned on his heel and left the room, the sound of the door closing behind him carrying more weight than he cared to admit.
As the door closed behind him, he heard the silence he had created settle over the chamber. The sound bothered him all the way down the corridor. For the first time in a very long while, Gabriel found himself wondering whether the problem was not the children at all.
Perhaps the problem was him.
Nonsense.
Amelia was amazed to find that the mud from the road had been cleaned off her belongings. Her dresses were washed and folded in a bundle. Her bag had been refreshed, and her personal items were all inside, not one missing.
She spent far too long preparing for breakfast. She brushed her hair three times and still felt completely unprepared when she finally left her room.
Every step towards the dining room seemed to increase her anxiety.
Her entire future depended upon keeping this position.
One mistake and she would be sent away, finding herself back in London facing her parents and the Duke of Mansfield.
The thought made her stomach tighten. She had escaped but only barely.
Now, she found herself living under the roof of a moody duke who seemed to view every human interaction as a military campaign.
Worse still, the Duke of Anderton unsettled her in ways she preferred not to examine.
A single look from him was enough to make her feel simultaneously defensive and self-conscious. It was ridiculous.
But it’s all worth putting up with if it means I have freedom of choice. That is the most important thing in this matter, and right now, Anderton Manor provides that freedom.
As she descended the staircase, her thoughts drifted towards the peculiar family she had stumbled into.