Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
What nonsense now?
Gabriel heard the music long before he reached the drawing room though calling it music was generous at best. It drifted through the corridor in uneven waves, occasionally interrupted by discordant notes and what sounded suspiciously like laughter.
He paused halfway down the hall, frowning slightly as he tried to identify what in his household could possibly be responsible for such chaos.
It was not scheduled, not approved, and certainly not something that should be happening under his roof.
Yet the sound continued with infuriating persistence, as though rules were merely suggestions someone had chosen to ignore. With a resigned exhale, he followed it.
What he found made him stop entirely in the doorway.
The drawing room had been transformed into something unrecognizable, all polished order replaced by movement, noise, and careless joy.
David was spinning in circles near the center of the room, his laughter bright and unrestrained, while Valerie stood nearby, attempting something that resembled dancing but lacked her usual rigid control.
Even Grover darted between them, barking happily as though he had been invited to participate.
Servants stood along the edges playing instruments with visible uncertainty, producing a mixture of fiddles, flutes, and uneven rhythm that somehow held the entire disaster together. And at the center of it all was Amelia.
She moved with surprising ease, guiding David through steps that were far too informal to qualify as proper instruction.
Her hair had loosened slightly from its pins, and there was a faint flush in her cheeks that made her look unexpectedly alive.
When she turned and saw Gabriel, she did not stop.
Instead, she smiled as though his presence had always been expected.
“Your Grace,” she called over the music, lightly catching David’s hand mid-spin, “you have arrived just in time.”
Gabriel remained where he was for a moment, considering the wisdom of immediate retreat.
Valerie noticed him and straightened at once, her expression tightening into something far more guarded.
David, however, simply waved enthusiastically before continuing to spin under Amelia’s direction.
Amelia released the boy and stepped toward Gabriel without hesitation, as though his arrival required no adjustment whatsoever.
“You cannot simply observe,” she said brightly, extending her hand toward him. “That would be very dull.”
Gabriel looked at her hand, then at the room, then briefly at Valerie, whose eyes had narrowed in suspicion. The slightest shift in Valerie’s expression was enough for him to decide.
He sighed once, almost imperceptibly, and took Amelia’s hand. “I do not recall learning to dance to this kind of music,” he said dryly as she pulled him into the movement.
Amelia laughed, the sound immediate and unrestrained, and something about it made the room feel warmer than it had any right to be.
Her hand was unexpectedly small in his, yet steady.
Gabriel guided her into the rhythm as best as the chaos allowed, though it bore no resemblance to anything he had ever been taught.
Still, Amelia moved with confidence, adjusting easily to his steps as though he were not a duke but simply another participant in her improvised rebellion.
He found, to his considerable irritation, that it was not unpleasant. In fact, it was rather the opposite.
He looked away too quickly.
Amelia, apparently unsatisfied with leaving Valerie on the periphery, guided him gently across the floor.
“Come on,” she murmured, steering him toward his niece with a determination that brooked no refusal.
Valerie stiffened as they approached, her earlier hesitation returning in full force. For a moment, she looked as though she might retreat entirely. Gabriel extended his free hand instead, offering it without comment. The room seemed to hold its breath.
Valerie stared at his hand. Then, slowly, she took it.
The change in Valerie was immediate but subtle, like a door unlocking after years of disuse.
Her posture remained cautious, but she allowed herself to be drawn into the movement.
Amelia smiled quietly between them, stepping back as though satisfied with her work.
Gabriel adjusted his hold slightly, guiding Valerie into a simple step.
“You will be a success at your debut,” he said gruffly, as though stating a fact rather than offering reassurance.
Valerie blinked at him, then, unbelievably, smiled.
It was small, fleeting, but real. The music continued to stumble forward, growing louder as more servants joined in uncertain enthusiasm. David collapsed into laughter near Grover, who appeared convinced this was the finest day of his life. Gabriel found that he did not entirely mind it.
When the final notes eventually faltered into silence, no one moved at once.
Then reality began to reassert itself.
Gabriel released Valerie’s hand first. The room felt suddenly too large again, too bright, too aware of itself. He straightened his coat and regarded Amelia with a look that attempted sternness and failed almost immediately.
“Rules still exist,” he said firmly, though his voice lacked its usual edge. Amelia tilted her head, breathing slightly harder from the dancing.
“If you had come to me first,” he continued, gesturing vaguely at the chaos around them, “I would have arranged the finest orchestra in the county.”
Amelia smiled at him then, slow and unguarded, as though the suggestion itself was amusing. It was not a polite smile. It was something far more dangerous.
It stole his breath in a way he was not prepared to analyze.
Gabriel looked away before anyone could notice.
He cleared his throat, regaining what little composure remained.
“And do not make a habit of ignoring rules,” he added, though it sounded less like a warning than it should have. Amelia’s eyes brightened again at that, and she gave a small, infuriatingly confident nod.
“Of course, Your Grace,” she replied, far too pleased with herself.
Gabriel turned away before he made yet another mistake. Behind him, the house still felt different from how it had that morning.
And worse still, he suspected it might remain that way… because of her.
The morning had begun with Amelia entirely too aware of herself, as though the house itself had decided to remind her of every moment she had ever made a fool of herself in front of the Duke of Anderton.
She moved through her duties with forced composure, arranging papers and preparing lessons while very firmly refusing to think about Gabriel’s gaze.
Unfortunately, this refusal proved entirely ineffective because her mind supplied it anyway.
She could still recall the way he had looked at her during the dancing the previous day, as though she had temporarily rewritten the rules of his world without permission.
It was deeply irritating that such a memory could make her throat feel oddly dry.
This means nothing at all.
David, by contrast, seemed entirely immune to emotional complications. He sat at the desk during their reading lesson, but his attention drifted repeatedly toward the window as though the outdoors were calling him personally.
Amelia watched him struggle through a sentence before losing him entirely to distraction once again. “You are not actually listening,” she observed gently, tapping the page with her finger.
David frowned, shifted in his seat, and glanced toward the glass once more. “I am listening,” he insisted, though his eyes betrayed him completely.
Amelia tilted her head, studying him with mild amusement. “You are listening to something entirely unrelated to the book,” she corrected lightly.
David hesitated, then closed the book with exaggerated resignation. “I want to go outside,” he declared, as though this were a matter of urgent importance.
Amelia paused, then glanced toward the window herself. The estate grounds stretched beyond, bright with morning light and far more inviting than any enclosed room had a right to be.
“That,” she said thoughtfully, “is a reasonable complaint.”
Within moments, the lesson had been abandoned in favor of fresh air, much to David’s overwhelming delight. Grover joined them at the doorway, tail wagging as though he had been consulted and fully approved the decision.
Amelia walked beside David as they crossed the gravel path, surprised at how easily the routine of the household seemed to shift around her now.
Only two weeks ago, she had arrived here frightened and uncertain, and yet now, she found herself giving lessons, setting rules, and walking through a duke’s estate as though she belonged to it.
The thought should have unsettled her more than it did.
Instead, it simply felt strangely natural.
David ran ahead without hesitation, Grover chasing after him in exuberant bursts of energy.
Amelia followed at a more measured pace, allowing herself a rare moment of quiet observation.
Somewhere in the distance, gardeners worked among hedges, and the estate felt less like a rigid structure and more like a living thing.
She became aware, with some surprise, that she was no longer entirely an outsider.
Even the servants nodded at her now instead of watching her with suspicion.
“I think I am beginning to be accepted,” she murmured to herself, then immediately wondered if that sounded far too hopeful.
Her thoughts, however, remained complicated when it came to Gabriel.
She still did not understand him. Not properly. Not at all, really. Yet the uncertainty no longer felt entirely uncomfortable. It felt… something else.
Before she could untangle that thought further, footsteps approached from behind, and Amelia turned to see Valerie walking toward them with careful composure. The girl’s expression was controlled, but there was tension in her posture that suggested something had been weighing on her for some time.
David spotted her first and waved enthusiastically, causing Valerie to hesitate for half a second before continuing forward. Grover, ever loyal to chaos, immediately circled her legs in greeting. Amelia smiled faintly, sensing that something important was about to be said.
Valerie stopped beside them, hands folded neatly as though she had rehearsed this moment.
“I am worried about my debut,” she admitted abruptly, her voice quieter than usual.
David lost interest in the grass and wandered closer while Grover settled at Amelia’s feet.
Amelia regarded Valerie thoughtfully, noting the way the girl’s composure masked genuine anxiety. “That is entirely understandable,” she replied gently, keeping her tone even.
Valerie glanced at her, surprised perhaps by the lack of dismissal.
Amelia lowered herself onto a nearby bench, gesturing for Valerie to sit beside her.
“Everyone feels that way before their debut,” she added lightly.
Valerie hesitated but eventually sat, smoothing her skirts with precise movements. David climbed onto the bench’s armrest, swinging his legs as he listened without fully understanding.
Amelia folded her hands, choosing her words carefully. “My own debut had me very nervous,” she admitted.
Valerie blinked at her. “Did it?” she repeated.
Amelia gave a small, wry smile. “Indeed,” she said. “My first engagement was rather unfortunate. A misunderstanding in a ballroom that had tongues wagging.”
David looked fascinated by this description, though he clearly missed key details.
Valerie studied her for a long moment. “So you survived the humiliation of it all,” she concluded quietly.
Amelia did not deny it. “Yes,” she admitted. “And somehow ended up here.” For a brief moment, silence settled among them, broken only by Grover’s contented sigh.
Valerie looked down at her hands. “I am afraid my uncle does not truly want us,” she said suddenly. “I think he only keeps us because he feels he must.”
David stopped swinging his legs, suddenly attentive.
Amelia’s expression changed immediately, her posture straightening. “That is not true,” she said firmly.
Valerie looked unconvinced. “He is always distant,” she continued. “He follows rules more than people.”
Amelia inhaled slowly, choosing not to let frustration take over her tone. “Your uncle is not distant because he does not care,” she said carefully. “He is distant because he cares too much and does not know how to show it properly.”
Valerie frowned slightly, considering this.
Amelia leaned forward slightly, her voice softening. “He brought you here, did he not?” she asked.
Valerie nodded reluctantly.
“He provides for you, ensures your safety, and has built an entire household around your stability,” Amelia continued. “That is not the behavior of someone who feels indifferent.”
David nodded enthusiastically as though this settled the matter entirely. Grover barked once in agreement.
Valerie looked away, her expression uncertain but no longer defensive.
“Perhaps,” she said quietly.
Amelia smiled faintly, sensing the shift. “You do not have to understand him perfectly,” she added. “Only enough to see that he is trying.” Valerie did not respond at once, but something in her posture eased slightly.
Amelia stood again, brushing dust from her skirts.
The sun had shifted slightly, warming the path beneath them.
For a moment, she glanced back toward the house, half expecting to see Gabriel watching from a window.
He was not there. Yet the awareness of him remained anyway, like a presence just outside reach.
And for reasons she still refused to examine too closely, that thought did not unsettle her as much as it should have