Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Ido not understand him. One moment, he treats me as though I am a criminal infiltrating his household, and the next, he looks genuinely relieved to hear I am well.
Sleep refused to come, no matter how many times Amelia closed her eyes and willed her mind to quiet itself. She lay beneath the blankets staring at the canopy overhead while every confusing interaction with Gabriel replayed itself in merciless detail.
She had known the man for only a handful of days and already felt as though she were attempting to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Eventually, she threw back the covers with a frustrated sigh and swung her feet onto the floor. A glass of milk seemed far more attainable than sleep.
The corridors of Anderton Manor were silent as she made her way downstairs carrying a candle. By the time she reached the kitchen door, she felt faintly ridiculous for being anxious in the first place. Then she stepped inside and nearly dropped her candle.
“Oh,” she said.
A figure stood beside the table in the darkness, holding a spoon. Amelia froze, and the figure froze as well. For one absurd moment, they simply stared at one another across the room before recognition dawned.
“Your Grace?” she asked, lowering the candle slightly as disbelief flooded her voice. Gabriel straightened immediately and set down the bowl he had been holding.
“Miss Shirley,” he replied stiffly, looking far less pleased about being discovered than a man eating stolen custard ought to be.
Amelia glanced from his face to the bowl and back again.
“Are you eating my custard?” she asked, folding her arms as she struggled not to laugh.
Gabriel’s expression became remarkably severe for a man standing in a kitchen at midnight with a spoon in his hand. “I merely wished to understand the cause of the excitement,” he said, setting the spoon down with great dignity. “The entire household appears incapable of discussing anything else.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “And your investigation required a helping in the dark hours?” she asked, nodding toward the nearly empty bowl.
Gabriel looked briefly annoyed that she had noticed. “A thorough investigation requires evidence at any hour,” he replied, crossing his arms.
Amelia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling outright. “Naturally,” she said, moving towards the cupboard where the milk was kept.
“I imagine the authorities shall be grateful for your sacrifice.”
Gabriel narrowed his eyes at her while she poured herself a glass. “You find yourself amusing far too often,” he informed her.
“Someone must,” Amelia replied lightly, lifting the glass to her lips.
To her surprise, the corner of Gabriel’s mouth almost twitched. The expression vanished so quickly that she wondered whether she had imagined it.
“Was it good?” she asked after a moment, leaning against the counter.
Gabriel glanced at the abandoned bowl before returning his attention to her. “It was better than I expected,” he admitted reluctantly.
Amelia placed a hand over her heart. “Such praise,” she said softly. “I shall treasure it forever.”
Gabriel released a long-suffering sigh that suggested she was testing his patience once again.
Silence settled between them as the kitchen grew quiet.
The candlelight softened the harsh angles of Gabriel’s face and cast shadows across his broad shoulders.
Without his usual coat and cravat, he somehow looked younger and more human than he did during the day.
Amelia found herself studying him before quickly looking away.
It seems unwise to stare at a duke in the middle of the night, particularly one who already looks at me as though I might be plotting treason.
Unfortunately, the silence only made her more aware of his presence.
“You think I am unreasonable,” Gabriel said suddenly, breaking the quiet as he rested one hand against the edge of the table.
Amelia glanced up in surprise. “Sometimes,” she admitted carefully.
Gabriel gave a short nod as though confirming a suspicion. “Perhaps I am,” he said, his voice lower than usual. “But everything I do is intended to protect my wards.”
The vulnerability hidden beneath the words caught Amelia completely off guard.
Gabriel looked away towards the dark window. “They have already lost enough,” he said quietly, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “If I could predict every danger before it appeared, I would.”
Amelia watched him in silence. The fierce duke, who ordered everyone about and terrified half the county, suddenly looked… exhausted.
“I simply do not know what else to do,” he admitted, staring into the darkness beyond the glass. Something in his voice made Amelia’s heart flutter.
He is… confused?
She set her glass down and stepped a little closer. “Valerie is not nearly as difficult as she pretends to be,” she said gently.
Gabriel looked back at her. “No?” he asked.
Amelia shook her head. “She laughs quite often when she feels comfortable,” she explained. “She simply hides it from you.”
Gabriel frowned as though the notion made no sense whatsoever. “Why would she do that?” he asked.
Amelia could not help smiling slightly. “Because you look as though you are about to declare war whenever you enter a room,” she said, gesturing towards him.
Gabriel stared at her. “I do not.”
“You do,” Amelia insisted. “You stride about looking fierce and intimidating while everyone wonders whether they are about to be dismissed.”
Gabriel looked genuinely offended by this assessment. “I have never dismissed anyone for laughing.”
Amelia tilted her head. “No, but I suspect everyone worries you might start.”
Gabriel folded his arms. “You have far too many opinions,” he informed her.
Amelia laughed softly and picked up her glass again. “That criticism has followed me for years,” she admitted. “My mother would be delighted to discover she is not alone.”
Gabriel studied her for a long moment before shaking his head. “I do not understand how you manage to argue with nearly everyone you meet.”
Amelia smiled into her milk. “I do not see it as an argument, Your Grace. I’m merely attempting to provide a fresh point of view on matters,” she replied.
For the first time that evening, Gabriel’s expression softened almost imperceptibly.
The moment lasted only a second before he seemed to remember himself and straightened once more.
Amelia could not explain why her pulse felt slightly unsteady as she looked at him, and she suspected Gabriel would be equally annoyed if he knew the effect he had on her.
He studied her for a long moment before speaking.
“There is still one question you have not answered fully,” he said, his grey eyes remaining fixed upon her face.
Amelia knew what was coming. “Must we return to interrogations?” she asked with a sigh, attempting a smile.
Gabriel’s expression remained infuriatingly serious. “Why are you hiding your whereabouts from your family?” he asked quietly.
Amelia looked down at her glass and twisted it slightly between her fingers. For several moments, she said nothing at all.
Can I tell him? Will he understand, or will he send me back?
Amelia was growing tired of secrets and lies. At last, she released a slow breath and lifted her gaze back to his.
“Because if they find me,” she said softly, “they will drag me home.”
Gabriel’s brow furrowed slightly. “Why?” he asked.
Amelia laughed, though there was very little humor in the sound. “Because my family has spent years attempting to marry me off,” she replied, leaning back against the counter.
Gabriel remained silent, so she continued.
“The first engagement collapsed before it ever reached the altar.” She offered a small shrug.
“The second progressed considerably further.” A faint smile touched her lips.
“That gentleman actually waited until the wedding day before humiliating me and walking away, though I cannot blame him for that.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “He abandoned you at the altar?” he asked.
Amelia nodded once. “In front of half the county,” she replied, folding her arms. “It was a remarkably memorable experience, but in truth, my sister Bethany caused the scandal that made him leave. I thank her for that.”
“And then?” he prompted.
Amelia laughed again, this time with genuine bitterness. “Then my parents immediately found another husband before I could even catch my breath.” She looked directly at him. “A duke.”
For the first time that evening, Gabriel looked faintly startled.
Amelia found the reaction oddly satisfying. “Not you,” she added quickly.
Gabriel’s expression relaxed fractionally. “I am relieved to hear it,” he said dryly.
Is he relieved? Why?
“I had never met the man,” Amelia continued more quietly. “I knew nothing about him except his title and income.” She stared down at the candle flame flickering beside them. “Everyone kept telling me how fortunate I was.” Her voice softened further. “But nobody asked whether I wanted him.”
Gabriel remained completely still.
“So I ran,” she whispered, “to avoid the marriage.”
The admission hung between them. Amelia waited for criticism. She waited for disapproval. She waited for him to call her reckless or selfish or immature. For him to remind her that arranged marriages were expected and accepted.
Instead, Gabriel simply watched her with an unreadable expression. The silence made her nervous.
“If you think that makes me spoiled,” she said at last, lifting her chin stubbornly, “then so be it.”
Something shifted in his gaze. “No,” he said quietly.
Amelia blinked. Gabriel took a step closer without seeming aware he had done so.
“I think it makes you foolish.” His voice remained low and steady. “Running away alone was extraordinarily dangerous.”
Amelia opened her mouth to argue, then she remembered the carriage driver and wisely closed it again.
“I know,” she admitted reluctantly.
Gabriel nodded once. “Good. At least I can be satisfied that you learned from your folly.”
His gaze remained locked with hers. Amelia suddenly became aware of how little space existed between them. She could see the faint shadow of dark stubble along his jaw. She could smell soap, leather, and something distinctly masculine that made her pulse flutter in a thoroughly inconvenient manner.
Neither of them moved. The kitchen seemed smaller somehow. Amelia found herself studying his eyes. They were not merely grey as she had first thought. Tiny flecks of silver caught the light whenever he looked at her. The discovery felt far more intimate than it should have.
Her hand rested upon the edge of the table.
Gabriel’s hand rested there too. Neither appeared to notice until their fingers brushed lightly together.
The contact lasted only a second, yet warmth shot through Amelia so suddenly that she almost forgot how to breathe.
Her gaze dropped briefly to his hand before returning to his face. Gabriel was already looking at her.
The moment stretched. Amelia’s heartbeat seemed absurdly loud. She could not look away from him. Every instinct told her that something was happening between them.
Something dangerous. Something entirely inappropriate between a duke and a governess.
Yet she found herself unable to move.
Gabriel’s gaze flickered briefly towards her mouth.
The simple movement sent heat rushing through her.
Amelia’s breath caught. For one impossible second, she thought he might kiss her.
The possibility seemed to hang suspended in the air between them.
She could almost feel it. The anticipation left her completely motionless.
Then Gabriel abruptly stepped back. The spell shattered immediately. He cleared his throat and looked away.
“You should go to bed, Miss Shirley,” he said, his voice rougher than before.
Amelia stared at him for a moment. Part of her wanted to laugh. Another part wanted to shake him. Instead, she simply nodded.
“Of course,” she replied quietly.
She turned towards the door before she could embarrass herself further. Her hand had just reached the handle when Gabriel spoke again.
“Miss Shirley.” Amelia paused and looked back over her shoulder. He stood beside the table watching her. For once, there was no suspicion in his expression. No irritation. No coldness.
“I do not think you are spoiled,” he said.
Amelia blinked in surprise.
Gabriel folded his arms loosely across his chest. “Foolish, certainly,” he continued. “Extraordinarily reckless.”
Amelia felt herself smile despite her efforts not to.
Gabriel shook his head slightly as though she proved his point. “But not spoiled.”
Something warm settled inside her chest. The words carried far more meaning than they should have. Amelia’s smile softened.
“Goodnight, Your Grace,” she said gently as she moved through the door.
Gabriel inclined his head. “Goodnight, Miss Shirley,” he replied.
Amelia left the kitchen with her heart beating far faster than it ought to have been. She climbed the staircase, smiling to herself despite every effort not to. Somehow, she suspected she would still not find sleep particularly easy that night.