Chapter 6
Chapter Six
She is well. Thank God. At least I do not have to worry about scandal in my household with an injured lady, Gabriel told himself.
He stood near the fireplace with his arms folded as John completed his examination of Amelia.
He told himself he remained only because he wished to hear the doctor’s conclusions firsthand.
That explanation sounded entirely reasonable.
It was certainly more reasonable than admitting he had spent the last day wondering whether the woman had suffered some hidden injury.
Gabriel felt tension ease from his shoulders. The relief annoyed him.
Amelia rose gracefully from her chair and smoothed her skirts. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said with a warm smile as she dipped into a curtsey. Then she turned towards Gabriel and offered him a similar curtsey. “Your Grace.”
Gabriel inclined his head. “Miss Shirley.”
Without another word, Amelia left the parlor. The door clicked shut behind her. Silence settled briefly over the room before John slowly turned towards Gabriel. The physician’s expression already carried the look of a man preparing inconvenient questions.
John folded his arms and leaned against the back of a chair. “Have you arranged for the young lady to return to her parents?” he asked, watching Gabriel carefully.
“No,” Gabriel replied as he walked towards the sideboard and poured them both a glass of water. “She will remain at the estate for the next month.”
John nearly choked on the water, the reaction so sudden that he had to steady himself against the edge of the chaise. He stared at Gabriel for a long moment, then stared again as if repetition might produce a more reasonable explanation.
“What? Why?” John asked at last, his tone controlled but visibly strained. “Gabriel,” he said slowly, as though speaking to a man standing too close to the edge of sense, “have you abducted the girl against her will?”
Gabriel nearly dropped the glass he had been holding. He set it down on the side table with more force than necessary, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “Do not be absurd, Doctor,” he snapped, his patience thinning.
John raised both hands in a gesture of calm defense. “I am merely trying to establish the facts.”
“The facts,” Gabriel said darkly, his gaze fixed and unyielding, “are that Miss Shirley accepted employment.”
“Employment?” John repeated, his tone suggesting the word itself required scrutiny.
“As David’s governess.”
John stared at him again, longer this time. Gabriel noticed the pattern and found it increasingly irritating; people had developed an unfortunate habit of staring at him whenever he made a decision they did not immediately understand.
“She is a governess now?” John asked finally.
“Yes,” Gabriel replied flatly.
The physician dragged a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose. “I do not believe she is one.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “She accepted the position.”
John gave a short laugh, disbelieving. “That does not magically transform a lady into a governess.”
“It does if she agrees to perform the duties.”
“I suspect society would disagree,” John said mildly, watching him with growing caution.
Gabriel sighed. Society, in his experience, disagreed with most things of practical value. It was one of its more consistent and tedious habits.
“Fortunately,” Gabriel said at last, turning towards the door, “society does not govern this house.”
John followed him into the corridor without hesitation. “No,” he agreed as they walked, “you do. Which is often equally alarming.”
Gabriel did not respond to that remark, choosing instead to ignore it with practiced efficiency. His attention shifted to the clock as they passed beneath it, its steady ticking marking time he felt was being wasted unnecessarily.
“We are wasting time,” Gabriel said, already moving forward. “You came here for a reason.”
John frowned slightly as he adjusted his pace beside him. “I did,” he admitted, “though I am beginning to suspect I have been diverted from it.”
Gabriel’s expression hardened at that, his patience tightening further as they continued down the corridor.
“The tenant farmer with the lung infection,” he reminded him. “We are riding out to see him.”
“Right,” John said. “The actual reason I came is not your worry over the young lady.”
Gabriel groaned at that but did not respond.
Together, they made their way outside. Stable boys already waited with their horses prepared.
A cool breeze swept across the grounds as Gabriel mounted his horse in one smooth movement.
John climbed into his saddle less elegantly.
Soon, they rode away from the manor at an easy pace.
For a while, neither man spoke as their horses moved at an easy, unhurried pace along the country lane.
The countryside stretched wide around them in soft green fields broken only by hedgerows and the occasional distant farmhouse, while birdsong drifted lightly through the morning air as though the world itself had no interest in urgency.
Gabriel kept his gaze forward, his posture steady in the saddle, though his mind did not remain still for long.
It returned, uninvited, to Amelia Shirley.
Annoying woman. Interesting woman. Suspicious woman.
He found all three assessments equally unsatisfactory, which in his experience meant none of them could be safely ignored.
“I intend to hire a private investigator to look into Miss Amelia Shirley,” Gabriel said at last, the words cutting cleanly through the quiet as they followed the lane towards the tenant farms.
John, riding beside him, immediately turned his head. “You intend to do what?” he asked, his tone already carrying a tone of disbelief.
“A private investigator,” Gabriel repeated evenly, as though restating something obvious.
John let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on the reins. “That is a bit excessive even for you,” he said, glancing sideways at him. “Miss Shirley seems harmless.”
Gabriel did not look at him. “No one is harmless. She may simply be skilled at appearing harmless.”
John exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed. “You distrust everyone.”
“Correct.”
John laughed. “At least you are self-aware.”
Gabriel chose not to dignify that with a response and instead kept his attention fixed on the road ahead, though his thoughts remained inconveniently occupied.
“I will not allow the children to stay near a woman we know nothing about,” he said after a moment, his tone sharpening slightly.
John considered this as they rode. The horses’ hooves echoed against the dirt track, rhythm steady beneath them. “Well,” he said finally, “you know her name.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened faintly as he adjusted his hold on the reins. “Miss Amelia Shirley.”
“And?” John prompted, watching him now with open curiosity.
Gabriel frowned. “And that is all I know.”
John looked faintly amused by this conclusion, as though Gabriel had unknowingly provided him with something entertaining.
The fields opened wider as they neared the tenant farms. Gabriel was aware of John glancing at him occasionally, but did not encourage it.
Eventually, John spoke again, his tone more measured. “What if she is running from something?”
Gabriel turned his head slightly. “Running from something?”
John nodded once. “If you hire an investigator to start asking questions, whoever she is hiding from may discover she has been found simply by hearing that someone is asking about her.”
Gabriel said nothing at first. His gaze remained fixed ahead, but the rhythm of the horse beneath him felt suddenly more deliberate, as though the idea itself had shifted the ground beneath his certainty.
The possibility had not occurred to him.
That fact alone irritates me.
More irritating still was the knowledge that John had considered it without difficulty.
“Hm,” Gabriel said at last, as though the sound alone could contain his thoughts.
John made a faint sound of satisfaction. “Hm?”
Gabriel exhaled slowly, his patience thinning in a different direction now. “That is something I did not consider.”
John’s smile widened with clear, unrestrained triumph. “I shall cherish this moment for a very long time.”
“Do not,” Gabriel replied, his tone flat but edged with warning.
The tenant cottages appeared ahead. Several farmers were already waiting outside. As soon as they arrived, John dismounted and went to work. Gabriel watched as his friend examined patients, distributed tonics, offered advice, and reassured worried families.
The transformation was familiar. John ceased being Gabriel’s irritating friend and became an exceptional physician. The farmers trusted him completely. Children smiled when they saw him. Even frightened patients seemed calmer in his presence.
Gabriel admired that quality. As he watched John move from cottage to cottage, his thoughts drifted back to Anderton Manor once more. To David. To Valerie. And unfortunately, to Amelia Shirley.
One month. That is all. One month to determine who she truly is. One month to decide whether she can be trusted, unlike David’s mother.
The following morning, Amelia woke earlier than usual.
For several moments, she lay staring at the canopy above her bed, half expecting to discover that Anderton Manor had been nothing more than an unusually elaborate dream.
Then she remembered Gabriel Warring, his impossible rules, and her probationary month.
Reality returned with remarkable efficiency.
Before dressing, she sat at the writing desk and pulled out a sheet of paper.
If nothing else, Bethany deserved to know that her sister was alive.
The letter took far longer to write than Amelia expected.
Several times she found herself beginning a sentence only to scratch it out again.
In the end, she settled for reassuring her sister that she was safe and well.
She carefully omitted any mention of dukes, country estates, or employment as a governess.
The fewer details she provided, the better.
If her parents discovered her location, they would undoubtedly arrive with a carriage and a lecture.
When she finished, she gave the letter to a servant to deliver.
Somewhere downstairs waited David and the daunting responsibility of educating him. She would rather have faced another breakfast with Gabriel.
Unfortunately, mathematics awaited. David sat opposite her in the schoolroom while Amelia pointed towards a slate covered with simple numbers.
Sunlight illuminated the dust motes dancing through the air.
It would have been a peaceful scene if David had remained seated for more than thirty seconds at a time.
Instead, he swung his legs, twisted in his chair, and stared out the window.
Amelia was beginning to suspect that numbers physically offended him.
“If you have three apples and receive two more apples,” Amelia said patiently, tapping the slate with a piece of chalk, “how many apples do you have altogether?”
David frowned dramatically. His gaze wandered towards the window. Then towards the ceiling. Then towards the dog sprawled beside the hearth.
“David?” Amelia prompted.
The boy looked at her with complete seriousness. “I do not like apples.”
Amelia closed her eyes briefly. “That is not the question.”
“It matters.” David folded his arms. “If they are apples, it matters.”
The dog thumped his tail against the floor. Amelia stared at the animal. “You are not helping.”
The dog looked delighted with himself.
“Grover is always helpful,” David said.
“Grover… so that is the creature's name. If you had another Grover, how many dogs would you have?” Amelia said.
“Two,” David said happily.
Amelia sighed in relief, for now. Twenty minutes later, Amelia had successfully explained the same sum six different ways.
David had learned precisely nothing beyond two dogs.
He had, however, informed her about a frog he once found in a boot, three different cloud shapes, and the fact that porridge remained a crime for children.
Amelia was beginning to understand why governesses occasionally developed headaches.
The dog listened attentively throughout the entire lesson.
At present, he appeared to be her most promising pupil.
Later that morning, Amelia attempted a different approach.
She abandoned mathematics entirely and joined David outside near the gardens.
The boy kicked a ball across the grass while the dog bounded after it enthusiastically.
Amelia followed at a safe distance, hoping conversation might prove easier than arithmetic.
Trust could not be built through lectures alone.
Unfortunately, children seemed considerably more complicated than books suggested.
“You may tell me if something troubles you,” Amelia said as David chased after the ball. The boy slowed slightly before kicking it again. The dog immediately sprinted after it.
“Nothing troubles me,” David said.
“Nothing at all?” Amelia asked. Her head cocked to the side.
“No.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “That is impressive.”
David glanced at her. “Why?”
“Because most people are troubled by at least one thing.”
The boy thought about this. “I dislike turnips.”
Amelia sighed. “Thank you for your honesty.”
David smiled. For a brief moment, Amelia thought they might actually be making progress. Then the boy immediately ran off after the dog, abandoning the conversation entirely. The animal returned moments later and dropped the ball at Amelia’s feet. She looked down at the dog.
“At least one of us values my company.”
The dog barked happily. Amelia strongly suspected that it was an agreement.
As she bent to retrieve the ball, a strange sensation prickled along the back of her neck.
She looked up instinctively. Across the garden, standing near an open doorway leading into the house, Gabriel watched them.
His arms were folded. His expression was unreadable.
Good heavens.
How long had he been standing there? Amelia straightened.
The ball nearly slipped from her hands. Why did the man have such a talent for making her nervous merely by existing?
David noticed nothing. The dog remained thrilled by life.
Only Amelia felt as though she had suddenly been placed under examination.
She tossed the ball back towards David and forced herself to smile.
The lesson continued, though her concentration wavered beneath Gabriel’s watchful gaze.
Every mistake suddenly felt larger. Every awkward moment seemed more noticeable.
Yet when she risked another glance towards the doorway, the Duke had not moved.
He simply stood there, observing.
Like a hawk. Or perhaps a prison warden.
Amelia could not decide which comparison was less flattering. Either way, she had the distinct feeling that earning David’s trust might prove easier than earning Gabriel’s.