Chapter 8
Gabriel read the letter twice before he set it down.
What had been a case moving steadily toward a distant hearing had been hastened, and all that he could do was watch unless Eleanor changed her mind, and that was not something she wanted. And so, there would be an immediate removal pending her trial.
He wished she would simply swallow her pride and let him help her.
He remained at the desk for a moment longer, his hand resting lightly against the edge of the paper.
Everything had already changed, and it was not something he could keep to himself.
His family had already seen a difference in him, and it was only a matter of time before they all knew precisely why that was.
When he called the family together, it was understood without explanation that it was not a routine matter. William was brought down from his rooms in a chair, though he insisted on sitting upright at the table rather than being treated as though he were frail.
Cassandra took her place beside him, though her attention never fully left Gabriel once the discussion began. The dowager arrived last, as she always did when she wished to observe the order of a matter before deciding how to disrupt it.
Gabriel did not soften the content.
“The petition has been advanced,” he said. “They wish to remove the child immediately.”
A brief silence followed. William was the first to speak, his voice quieter than usual.
“Can they do that before the hearing?”
“Yes,” Gabriel replied.
“On what grounds?”
“Moral fitness,” Gabriel said simply. “If they believe the girl is at risk, they can do what they please.”
William exhaled, one hand adjusting against the arm of his chair. “That is a dangerously broad term.”
“It is sufficient,” Gabriel said.
“And if it succeeds?”
“She loses her daughter.”
No one spoke for a moment after that. The silence held in a way that suggested each of them was measuring different consequences against the same outcome. Cassandra broke it first, though carefully.
“This household is already under scrutiny. If we attach ourselves too openly to a cause that becomes scandalous, it will not remain limited to one property next door. It will reflect on all of us.”
William shifted slightly. He was not one to disagree with his wife, and while Gabriel tended to admire that about his brother, he needed an ally, and if Cassandra was of a different opinion then he was fighting a losing battle.
“There are ways to assist without becoming entangled,” William reasoned, to Gabriel’s surprise.
Cassandra did not look at him when she replied.
“That assumes appearances can be controlled once attention has been drawn.”
The dowager had remained silent throughout the exchange, her attention moving between them, and when she finally spoke, it was without preamble.
“I have heard enough caution to last several lifetimes,” she said.
Cassandra’s eyes flicked toward her, wary. The dowager continued, entirely unbothered.
“For years I have watched this household proceed as though survival were the same thing as living. I buried a husband, and I watched one son fade away while doing nothing about it.”
William’s expression did not change, but Cassandra’s hand shifted slightly against the table.
“I will not sit and watch the same thing happen again,” the dowager added.
Her gaze moved to Gabriel directly, and he swore he could almost see relief in her eyes.
The dowager leaned back slightly in her chair, her tone sharpening just enough to make the point unmistakable.
“I have seen the girl, and I have seen the mother. William, I will not speak for your brother, but just know that if you knew who she was, you would be fighting alongside him.”
“Then who is she?”
“It should not matter,” she said simply. “A lady is in dire need of help, and we are in a position to do so. That should be enough.”
Cassandra’s mouth tightened faintly, though she said nothing. She did not tend to argue with her in the way she did with William and Gabriel, and he was grateful that someone was able to say something that appealed to her at least.
All attention turned, inevitably, to Gabriel. He did not speak at once, for he did not know what to say. When he did, his voice was steady, but lower than before.
“This is important to me. If you know me as well as I think, you will know that this is not something I would ask for if I did not need it.”
“Why can you not tell us?” Cassandra asked. “Gabriel, I have known you for years, and you have never kept something from me like this.”
Simply put, Gabriel did not know how they would react to the news that it was the very same Eleanor that they had known years before. She had been a forbidden subject in their household for years, but that was set to change.
His attention moved once, briefly, to the window, though nothing outside offered clarity. When he spoke, it was not in response to any one of them, but to the sum of what had been said.
“The petition changes the timeline,” he said.
William looked at him.
“How so?”
“We do not have weeks anymore, only days.”
The words settled into the room without need of further explanation, and in that silence, the decision that had already begun forming elsewhere took its final, unavoidable shape. Cassandra and William exchanged a glance, and then Cassandra lowered her eyes.
“Very well.” She nodded. “You have our support.”
Gabriel noticed the change gradually, and it began with tea.
***
The Dowager Lady Hartley had always taken her tea in a precise manner, at a precise time, with a precise set of expectations for the world around her. Beatrice Pennington, by contrast, treated tea as something to be enjoyed.
Gabriel first became properly aware of it the following afternoon when he entered the drawing room and found them seated on either side of the table with a tray sat between them that had long since emptied, and yet neither had made any move to end the conversation.
They paused only briefly when he entered, and even then it was only to acknowledge his arrival.
Beatrice smiled.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Hartley.”
The dowager regarded him with the faintest air of satisfaction, as though she had been expecting him to see them together.
Gabriel remained standing for a moment longer than necessary. The dowager set her cup down, not taking her eyes off of him.
“We were discussing arrangements.”
“That sounds ominous,” Gabriel replied.
“It is not,” Beatrice said pleasantly.
Gabriel’s gaze moved between them, but neither offered clarification. Only the sense of a shared understanding passed between them, and it did not include him.
He withdrew shortly after, unsettled in a way he did not immediately name.
It was not the content of what had been said, but the fact that, whatever was being discussed, he did not know about it, and that meant it was out of his control.
The purpose of his assistance was to be someone trustworthy to be by Eleanor’s side.
Whatever they had in mind, he did not know how it would assist further.
He felt as though his position within his own household had become something resembling an observer rather than someone with power over it. The thought followed him longer than it should have.
He went to see William later that afternoon.
The room upstairs was brighter than it usually was, the curtains drawn back to allow the light in.
William was seated in his chair near the window, unusually alert.
There were days when illness receded just far enough to give the impression of recovery, and this was one of them.
They were a joy to see, although they were also a reminder that worse days would also eventually come.
Cassandra had stepped out briefly, leaving them alone. William glanced at Gabriel as he entered.
“You look as though you have been dragged to Scotland and back.”
“I have been attending to matters.”
“Dreadful ones?”
Gabriel did not deny it. William’s mouth curved.
“Sit down before you start pacing. I cannot stand it.”
Gabriel sat, then William continued.
“I had a better day today.”
“I can see that.”
“It is temporary,” William replied without bitterness. “It usually is. I do not say that for sympathy. I say it because you have begun behaving as though you can arrange life into something that will not touch you if you keep it tidy enough. Well, my dear brother, you cannot.”
A faint silence followed. William leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes still on Gabriel.
“Duty is what men call things when they are afraid to admit they want them. You hide behind it well. You always have, and now you have found a very convenient duty indeed.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened slightly, though he did not speak. William did not press immediately. When he continued, his voice softened just enough to remove any sense of accusation.
“I am not asking you to become reckless,” he said. “I am asking you to stop pretending that avoidance is the same thing as responsibility. You are not protecting this family by removing yourself from anything that matters to you.”
Gabriel’s gaze shifted briefly toward the window. William watched him for a moment longer then sighed.
“And you are not protecting yourself either.”
The moment held.
“Besides,” William added, “it is rather obvious from the way you are behaving that you are already involved.”
Gabriel did not answer, but he did not deny it either, and that, more than anything, remained with him after he finally rose to leave.
Gabriel returned to Beatrice’s house later that day. He was shown into the drawing room and saw Eleanor standing near the window, the late sunlight giving her a golden glow.
He did not begin at once. When he finally spoke, his tone was careful and unembellished, in hopes that he would not appear too willing and make her feel uncertain about it all.
“There is only one way to secure Sophie’s position now,” he said. “A marriage would give you the standing that the courts cannot easily set aside. Nothing else carries the same weight.”