Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Lady Provie?” Amelia asked, setting a hand against the door. “May I ask what you are doing in my room?”
Amelia stepped fully into her room and stared at the unexpected visitor occupying the small sitting area beside the fire.
Lady Provie sat comfortably in one of the armchairs as though she owned the room, her gloved hands folded neatly atop her walking cane.
For a moment, Amelia simply blinked at her in confusion before closing the door behind her.
Lady Provie lifted her gaze slowly and regarded her over the rim of her spectacles.
“You may ask,” she replied in a measured tone, “though whether I answer is another matter entirely.”
Amelia suppressed a sigh and crossed the room. “I shall consider that an answer altogether, then.”
A faint sound escaped the older woman that might have been amusement. “You are bolder than most governesses I have known.”
“I have never actually been a governess before,” Amelia admitted, stopping beside the hearth. “Perhaps that explains the deficiency.”
Lady Provie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Or perhaps it explains the trouble.”
The remark sent a small knot of unease twisting through Amelia’s stomach. There was something oddly deliberate about the woman’s presence, as though she had not come merely to exchange pleasantries.
“You wished to speak with me?” Amelia asked carefully.
Lady Provie tapped her cane lightly against the floor. “I wished to remind you of something, Miss Shirley.” Her gaze swept over Amelia with clinical precision. “You are merely a governess.”
Amelia stiffened.
“And,” Lady Provie continued, tilting her head slightly, “perhaps not for very much longer.”
Amelia frowned. “I am aware my position was always intended not to be permanent.”
“Are you?” Lady Provie asked, arching a brow. “How reassuring.”
A suspicion immediately formed in Amelia’s mind.
Has Gabriel spoken to his aunt about the one-month arrangement? It seemed possible. In truth, it seemed exactly the sort of conversation Gabriel might have while attempting to avoid discussing anything important directly with her.
“I am not entirely certain what you mean by all of this,” Amelia replied.
Lady Provie’s expression remained unreadable. “Then allow me to be clearer.” She leaned forward slightly, her voice lowering. “Do not mistake acceptance for affection.”
Amelia felt her heartbeat quicken. “I beg your pardon?”
The older woman rose slowly from her chair and adjusted her sleeves. “The children are fond of you,” she said, moving towards the door. “Anyone with eyes can see that.”
Amelia’s throat tightened.
“And you appear rather fond of them,” she continued.
“I am,” Amelia admitted softly.
Lady Provie paused beside the door and turned back towards her. “Then take care, Miss Shirley.” Her expression softened for only the briefest moment. “Do not convince yourself that you are their mother.”
The words landed harder than Amelia expected. “I would never attempt such a thing,” she said quietly.
“Good,” Lady Provie replied. “Because disappointment is a painful companion.”
Before Amelia could ask what she meant, the older woman opened the door.
“Enjoy the ball this evening,” Lady Provie added with a cryptic smile. “Something tells me it may prove memorable.”
Then she stepped into the corridor and disappeared. Silence settled over the room.
Amelia stared at the closed door for several moments before releasing a slow breath.
What an extraordinarily unsettling woman.
Every conversation with Lady Provie felt less like speaking and more like being handed pieces of a puzzle.
“Wonderful,” Amelia muttered. “One family that speaks in riddles was apparently not enough.”
The comment earned a reluctant smile from her. Shaking her head, she turned towards the bed where her gown awaited her.
The dress immediately stole her attention.
Soft blue silk spilled across the coverlet like a summer sky, while delicate white lace trimmed the neckline and sleeves.
Tiny seed pearls had been sewn into the embroidery, catching the afternoon light.
It was elegant without being ostentatious, refined without feeling severe.
Most importantly, it was beautiful.
Amelia crossed the room and brushed her fingertips over the fabric.
“This is absurd,” she whispered.
The gown belonged to the daughter of a viscount attending a ball. It did not belong on a governess.
Am I either still? Who am I? What have I become?
Yet as she studied the dress, she could not ignore the uncomfortable truth that Gabriel had never truly treated her as a governess.
He had purchased dresses for her, allowed her to dine with them, invited her to attend the ball as a guest, and looked at her in ways that made her forget how to breathe properly and…
The memory of his kiss immediately surfaced.
Amelia groaned softly and pressed both hands against her burning cheeks.
“Not now.”
Unfortunately, her imagination seemed unwilling to cooperate.
She could still remember the warmth of his hand against her face, the roughness of his voice when he spoke her name, and the way his eyes had darkened moments before he kissed her.
The memory made her stomach flutter so violently that she considered sitting down before her knees betrayed her entirely.
“Honestly,” she muttered while reaching for the gown, “one would think I was sixteen.”
Yet even as she complained, a smile tugged at her lips. For the first time in her life, someone had looked at her as though she were not an obligation, not a responsibility, and not a problem to be solved.
That thought alone was enough to make her chest ache.
He’s the only man I’ve ever known to not treat me as a means to an end. A betrothal to be done and a marriage to be sealed.
Carefully, Amelia lifted the blue silk gown and carried it towards the dressing screen.
Whatever Lady Provie’s warnings meant, whatever happened after the ball, and whatever future awaited her beyond Anderton Manor, she intended to face it on her own terms.
The evening of the ball arrived with all the grandeur Gabriel had hoped for and all the complications he had feared.
Carriages rolled steadily up the drive beneath lantern light, depositing guests in silks, jewels, and tailored coats before the grand entrance of Anderton Manor.
Music drifted faintly from the ballroom while servants moved efficiently through the crowded foyer.
Standing beside Valerie at the top of the entrance hall, Gabriel greeted each arrival with practiced politeness, though his attention continually wandered towards the staircase. As more guests arrived, an uncomfortable concern began to settle in his chest.
Amelia should have appeared by now.
Valerie accepted the compliments of their guests with admirable composure, though Gabriel noticed the slight tension in her shoulders whenever someone mentioned London or her upcoming debut.
He was about to reassure her when another familiar face entered the hall. Dr. John Hunt climbed the steps with an amused smile already forming.
The man looked entirely too pleased with himself for Gabriel’s liking. Beside him, Valerie brightened.
“Dr. Hunt,” Valerie said warmly, offering her hand. “I am pleased you came.”
“I would not miss it for the world,” John replied, bowing over her hand before turning towards Gabriel. His eyes gleamed with mischief. “And how is our host this evening? In better spirits than when he stormed into my cottage like a man fleeing a battlefield?”
Gabriel immediately groaned. “For the love of God, John,” he muttered, adjusting his cuffs, “go and find some refreshment. Occupy that mouth of yours before it becomes everyone’s problem.”
John laughed outright. “I see your mood has improved tremendously.”
“It has not.”
“Excellent. Then you are exactly as miserable as usual,” John teased.
Valerie pressed her lips together to suppress a smile while Gabriel fixed his friend with a glare.
“You may leave now.”
“Of course,” John said cheerfully. “Though if a certain blonde governess appears, do try not to make a fool of yourself. The evening has just begun.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “Leave.”
Still chuckling, John finally retreated into the crowd.
Gabriel shook his head and wondered why he continued to maintain friendships at all.
Then a sudden hush seemed to ripple through part of the hall.
Conversations faltered. Several heads turned towards the staircase.
Instinctively, Gabriel followed their gaze.
And forgot how to breathe.
Amelia was descending the staircase.
For one long moment, everything else simply disappeared.
The conversations, the music, the guests, and even his own thoughts faded into distant noise.
Her blue silk gown caught the glow of the chandeliers with every graceful step she took.
The delicate white lace at her sleeves softened the elegance of the dress, while her blonde hair had been arranged in a style that revealed the graceful curve of her neck.
The blue of the gown somehow made her blue eyes appear even brighter.
Gabriel’s chest tightened painfully.
Good God.
He had known she would look beautiful. He had purchased the gown himself. Yet nothing had prepared him for this.
His gaze lingered far longer than it should have.
Every instinct urged him to cross the room at once.
Every sensible thought reminded him why that was a terrible idea.
Amelia deserved a life untouched by his fears and his family history.
She deserved certainty, warmth, and happiness.
Instead, all Gabriel could offer was a man who spent half his life terrified of becoming his father.
Beside him, Valerie stared openly. “Oh.”
The single word broke Gabriel from his thoughts.
Valerie blinked several times before glancing at him. “She looks beautiful.”
Gabriel swallowed. “She does.”
Valerie slowly turned towards him. “You said that rather quickly.”
Gabriel immediately regretted speaking. Fortunately, several guests approached before Valerie could continue. A middle-aged lady accompanied by her husband smiled politely.
“Lady Valerie,” the woman said, “I hope you shall introduce us to that lovely young lady. Who is she?”
Valerie glanced towards Amelia. “Miss Shirley?”
“Yes,” the woman replied. “Who is she exactly?”
Gabriel opened his mouth to answer, but Valerie beat him to it.
“Miss Amelia Shirley is my friend,” Valerie said proudly, lifting her chin. “She came to stay at Anderton Manor on my personal invitation. She serves as David’s governess and is also a very dear friend to our family, and coming from nobility herself, we do not exclude her from such occasions.”
The woman’s brows lifted.
Valerie continued without hesitation. “In fact,” she added, glancing briefly towards Amelia, “she is far more than merely a governess.”
Gabriel felt something unexpectedly powerful stir inside his chest.
Pride. Pure, uncomplicated pride.
Not long ago, Valerie would have hidden behind him rather than speak so confidently to strangers.
Now, she stood tall, graceful, and self-assured before an entire room of guests.
Amelia had helped make that possible. Somehow, through patience, kindness, and sheer stubbornness, she had reached places in Valerie and David that Gabriel had never known how to reach himself.
His gaze returned to Amelia.
She was speaking politely with several guests now, though he noticed the slight uncertainty in her smile. She was still uncomfortable being the center of attention. Somehow, that only made her more beautiful.
Before he could lose his nerve, Gabriel stepped away from the receiving line.
“Where are you going?” Valerie asked.
He straightened his coat. “To dance.”
Valerie’s eyes widened. “You?”
“Do not make this more difficult than it already is,” he mumbled.
A smile tugged at her lips. “Good luck, Uncle.”
Gabriel ignored her. Or attempted to.
Crossing the room felt strangely similar to marching towards a battle. Every step heightened his awareness of Amelia’s presence. When he finally reached her, she looked up and fell silent. Her cheeks coloured slightly.
Dangerous woman.
“Your Grace,” she said softly.
“Miss Shirley.”
Neither moved for a moment. Neither seemed entirely certain where to begin. At last, Gabriel offered his hand.
“Would you do me the honor of this dance?” Gabriel asked, extending his hand towards her.
The question sounded perfectly respectable. The thoughts accompanying it were considerably less respectable.
Amelia stared at him for a heartbeat, her blue eyes searching his face. Then her expression softened, and a small smile touched her lips.
“I should be delighted,” she replied, placing her gloved hand into his.
Gabriel closed his fingers gently around hers and drew a slow breath. The simple touch nearly undid him.
Heat traveled straight up his arm, settling somewhere dangerously close to his heart. Her fingers were gloved, yet he felt every point of contact as though nothing separated them at all. It was absurd. Ridiculous. Entirely unacceptable.
And completely unavoidable.
As he guided her towards the ballroom, Amelia glanced up at him.
“You appear nervous,” she whispered.
Gabriel nearly laughed. “Nervous?”
Amelia tilted her head slightly as she looked up at him. She nodded when he raised a brow. “Very slightly.”
Gabriel guided her into position for the dance and attempted a look of complete composure.
“I assure you, Miss Shirley,” he said smoothly, “I am perfectly calm.”
Amelia’s smile deepened, and her gaze flickered meaningfully towards their joined hands.
“Then perhaps your hand is squeezing mine tightly for some other reason.”
Gabriel glanced down at once.
Curse it. It was. Fool.
The amusement dancing in her eyes nearly finished him entirely.
For one reckless moment, he wanted to tell her everything.
That she occupied his thoughts from morning until night.
That he had spent days avoiding her because being near her required more self-control than he possessed.
That every plan he made for the future somehow included her before he remembered it should not.
Instead, he merely guided her onto the floor. The music began. And as he led her onto the dance floor, surrounded by guests, candlelight, and expectation, Gabriel realized one alarming truth. He no longer feared losing Amelia someday.
I fear she might leave before I find the courage to ask her to stay.