Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
“There! Look!” David’s voice carried such urgency that Amelia instinctively followed his gaze.
A kitten was wedged awkwardly in the iron fencing near the far edge of the garden, its small body trembling as it mewed pitifully.
David had frozen for half a second before launching himself forward with determined urgency, calling out, “It’s stuck! It’s stuck!”
Amelia followed more cautiously, already anticipating disaster, while Valerie sighed. “Do not touch it with your bare hands, David; that is revolting.”
Grover, sensing distress, began circling the fence and barking in confused encouragement, as if offering strategic advice.
David ignored them all and insisted, “It’s frightened; it needs help,” before immediately attempting to force the bars apart.
Amelia reached him just as the situation shifted.
The metal had not been forgiving, and David’s arm had slipped against a sharp edge, drawing an immediate streak of red that startled even him into silence for a brief second.
Then the pain registered, and he gasped, “Ow!” before dissolving into tears, clutching his arm while the kitten remained entirely forgotten.
Amelia dropped beside him instantly, tearing a strip from the hem of her dress without hesitation as she said sharply, “Valerie, do not panic and fetch help now.”
Valerie’s eyes widened, but she obeyed, muttering, “This is precisely why I said servants should handle this,” as she hurried off.
David, between sobs, insisted, “But the kitten…” only to be cut off by Amelia’s firm, “The kitten is fine. You are not, so stay still.”
David sniffled and declared, “I am keeping it,” in a tone that suggested negotiation was not an option.
Amelia laughed softly, brushing dust from her ruined dress as she said, “Of course you are.”
It was in that exact moment that Gabriel arrived with Valerie on his heels.
He took in the scene in one sweeping glance, his expression tightening almost immediately when his eyes landed on David’s arm. The stillness that followed was sharper than any shout, and even Grover seemed to sit straighter under it.
Gabriel stepped forward, his attention fixed entirely on the injury as he said, “What happened?”
David quickly protested, “It’s only a scratch,” but Gabriel cut him off with, “Inside. All of you. Now.”
“But the kitten. I will not leave it,” David said.
Amelia watched as Gabriel saw the kitten. He huffed and then freed it and handed it to Valerie.
“Now, inside,” he said.
Amelia guided David carefully despite his complaints.
Grover followed solemnly, as though sensing the gravity had shifted.
Once inside the house, the atmosphere changed from sunlit chaos to structured concern. Gabriel guided David into the sitting room where light streamed through tall windows.
“Sit,” Gabriel ordered.
Amelia hovered nearby, offering, “I’ll get clean cloths,” while watching Gabriel examine the cut with surprising precision.
David, still tearful, declared, “The kitten is more important,” earning a look from Gabriel that silenced him instantly.
Amelia quietly fetched cloths and water, suddenly aware of how naturally she was moving within this household.
The silence that followed was broken only by David’s intermittent complaints, including “It hurts” and “I was very brave actually,” which he repeated with increasing conviction.
Amelia knelt beside them, helping hold his arm steady as Gabriel cleaned the injury and then wrapped it with controlled, steady hands.
At one point, David tried to pull away dramatically, insisting, “Stop treating me like a baby,” to which Gabriel replied evenly, “Then stop behaving like one.”
Amelia bit back a smile as she murmured, “He is bleeding, not auditioning for heroism,” earning a faint, almost reluctant pause from Gabriel.
When the bandage was finally secured, Gabriel stepped back and said simply, “That will do. I will call upon John to come have a look,” though his eyes remained fixed on David for a moment longer than necessary.
David leaned against her side and announced, “The kitten needs a name,” as though this were the next logical emergency.
Valerie, still holding the animal, said, “It cannot stay inside; it will ruin the rugs,” though she made no move to put it down.
Grover settled beneath a chair with a satisfied sigh, as though the crisis had been successfully resolved under his supervision. And Gabriel, though still stern, had not once left the room until he was certain everything was properly under control.
Later, the room was quiet once the others had been dismissed, the faint echo of David’s complaints and Valerie’s careful instructions still lingering in Amelia’s mind like an afterimage.
Amelia stood a few paces away from Gabriel, suddenly aware of how small the space felt when it was only the two of them, and she folded her hands to stop herself fidgeting.
The earlier chaos of the injured arm and the rescued kitten seemed distant now.
When Gabriel finally spoke, his voice was controlled but edged with something sharper than irritation.
Amelia braced herself before he even finished the first sentence.
He asked her, without preamble, “Why must you insist on breaking rules so frequently, as though structure in my household were something fragile you take pleasure in undoing?”
“You make it sound as though I am doing it deliberately,” Amelia replied at once, lifting her chin slightly as she met his gaze.
Gabriel’s expression did not change as he answered, “Intent is irrelevant if the result is disorder.”
She exhaled softly through her nose, frustration flickering across her face before she steadied it again.
“Then you only ever notice me when something goes wrong,” she said, taking a careful step forward, “but when things improve, you act as though I am invisible.” She hesitated then added more quietly, “I am sorry for breaking your rules, but you must understand, Valerie and David need more than structure. They need spontaneity and life… and you.”
Gabriel listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable, though his eyes never left her face as she spoke.
When he finally answered, his tone was quieter, less sharp but no less firm, and it carried the weight of conviction rather than argument.
“If closeness to them results in harm, then I will continue to rely on rules,” he said evenly, folding his hands behind his back.
Closeness resulting in harm? How could it?
Amelia studied him for a moment, recognizing not indifference but fear, carefully disguised beneath control, and it softened her voice when she spoke again.
“Pain is part of growing up,” she said gently, “you cannot prevent it entirely, no matter how tightly you try to control everything.” She held his gaze. “You can only make sure you are there afterward.”
Gabriel exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping for a brief moment before returning to her, as though weighing whether her words were practical or dangerously idealistic.
“It is not as simple as that,” he replied, his voice tightening slightly.
“Responsibility does not allow for sentiment overriding judgment.”
Amelia stepped closer without thinking, her resolve overtaking caution, and lightly took hold of his arm to steady him as much as herself.
“You have done well protecting them,” she said quietly, “but you are not only their protector. You are their uncle.” Then, after a small pause, she added, “And Valerie believes you see them as a burden rather than family.”
At those words, all color drained from Gabriel’s face in a way that startled her more than anything he had said before. He stepped back abruptly, breaking her hold with controlled force, and his voice dropped low and sharp as he said, “Do not touch me.”
Amelia froze, her expression shifting into confusion and hurt as she misunderstood the distance as rejection.
“I was only trying to help,” she said, voice tightening, convinced she had crossed a line she did not understand.
Gabriel did not respond at once, his hands flexing slightly at his sides as though restraining something unspoken. When he turned to leave, she moved quickly to block his path, more out of instinct than intention.
“You will listen to me,” Amelia said firmly, her voice steady now despite the rapid beat of her heart, “whether you approve of me or not.”
The space between them narrowed until there was barely any room left; their proximity charged.
Gabriel’s gaze darkened, and Amelia felt her breath catch even as she refused to step back.
They stood like that for a long moment, neither speaking, the silence stretching unbearably tight between them.
Then Gabriel leaned in slightly, so close she could feel the warmth of him and the shift in his breath, and for one suspended second, it felt inevitable.
Is he going to kiss me?
At the last moment, he stopped, stepped back with visible restraint, and left without another word, leaving Amelia standing alone in a silence that felt heavier than before.
The next morning, Amelia woke to find her room altered in a way that made her pause in the doorway before fully entering.
Several new dresses had been laid out neatly on the bed, each chosen with care that felt too deliberate to be accidental.
She crossed the room slowly, fingertips brushing the fabric as though trying to understand whether this was kindness, control, or something in between.
There was no note, no explanation, only the quiet implication that her place in the household had shifted without her consent or permission.
Amelia stood there for a long moment, unsettled and oddly moved, wondering whether the previous night’s confrontation had changed something between them or merely revealed what had been there all along.