Chapter 12 #2
Julian noticed the brief change in Gabriel’s eyes and smiled.
“Ah. I suppose I was not meant to know that.”
Gabriel did not answer immediately. His thoughts moved quickly through every person who could have known such a small detail. It was not information Julian could have discovered from a legal document or a society conversation. It was something that belonged inside Ravenscourt.
“You have someone inside my household.”
Julian adjusted his cuffs. “Have I?”
“Who is it?”
“If I revealed every advantage I possessed, where would be the pleasure in all of this?”
Gabriel stepped closer.
“This is not a game.”
“Everything is a game when one knows how to play,” Julian said finally as he moved toward the door. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Hartley.”
Gabriel watched him leave without attempting to stop him. Someone inside Ravenscourt had been feeding him information, not merely about the legal battle or the rumors spreading through Bath, but about private details that should never have reached beyond the household walls.
The danger was not waiting somewhere outside his home. It was already inside of it.
The carriage ride back to Ravenscourt passed in silence. The excitement of the evening had faded, leaving only the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves against the dark road and the occasional creak of the carriage wheels over the uneven ground.
Gabriel watched the passing shadows move across the carriage window and found his thoughts returning again and again to Eleanor standing beneath the chandeliers, surrounded by people who had already decided what sort of woman she was.
He had seen the effort it took for her to look as though nothing was wrong while whispers followed her from one end of the room to the other.
She had held herself with remarkable dignity, but he had noticed the small signs that others had missed—the way her fingers tightened around her fan, the way she carefully considered every response.
He hated that she had become so familiar with carrying her burdens alone.
“You did well tonight,” he said, breaking the silence.
“Thank you. I should also thank you for what you said.”
Gabriel looked across the carriage at her. The candlelight softened the tiredness in her face, but it could not hide it completely.
“I did nothing more than what should have been done.”
Eleanor lowered her eyes to her gloves, smoothing the edge of the fabric. “Perhaps it is what you should have done, but not many people would not have done the same.”
“You should never have had to endure any of it.”
“I have grown accustomed to it. Society will never change, and I know how it all looks. If I were younger, and more idealistic perhaps, then I would hope for something more, but I know better.”
There was no bitterness in her voice, and somehow that made it worse.
Gabriel would have preferred anger, because anger meant she still believed she deserved better.
The quiet acceptance in her tone suggested that she had spent years convincing herself that hardship was simply the price she had to pay for doing what she had done.
Gabriel knew society expected him to feel the same way.
But he did not.
“You should not have had to.”
Eleanor lifted her gaze to him, and for a brief moment, he saw the young lady that he remembered from years ago beneath the guarded widow who had arrived at his door carrying scandal and fear with her.
“I was afraid tonight. Not of society—I knew that would be an obstacle from the start. I was afraid everyone would look at me and see only what Julian wanted them to see. What he still wants them to see, I suppose.”
“They do not. Even if they do, they are wrong. I know who you are, and soon enough they will all feel the same.”
The certainty in his answer surprised even him.
Since their wedding day, he had been reminding himself that their marriage was practical, and that he had offered his name because Sophie needed protection and Eleanor needed security.
Yet in that moment, sitting across from her in the dim carriage, he found it impossible to think of her as merely an obligation.
“I know the woman I married.”
The words hung between them. Eleanor looked at him as though the simple statement carried more weight than he intended. Perhaps it did.
They had known one another for such a long time, and he had always felt strongly for her even if he was not convinced it could ever be reciprocated.
For a long time, he tried to tell himself he was wrong, even when she married another man.
He knew the woman who had laughed with him beside the gardens in Bath years ago.
He knew the woman who had sacrificed her own happiness for her family.
He knew the mother who would stand against an entire society before allowing Sophie to be taken from her.
The reality of their arrangement returned. Their marriage had been made from necessity. It had rules, and it had boundaries.
Gabriel looked away first, forcing himself to retreat into himself in order to maintain the distance that he had promised to keep.
“You should rest when we return. It has been a long evening.”
The warmth between them faded, though not entirely. Eleanor seemed to feel the retreat as clearly as he did, and she gave a small nod.
“Yes. It has.”
The remainder of the journey passed quietly, but it was no longer the silence of strangers. It was something far more fragile—the silence between two people who had begun to find their way toward one another and were both afraid of what they might discover if they continued.
***
Gabriel was awake before dawn.
Sleep had been impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts returned to Julian standing in the card room with that calm, knowing expression.
He remembered every word, every slight shift in tone, and most of all the moment Julian revealed knowledge he should never have possessed about the roses.
It was such a small thing. That was precisely why it troubled him.
After dressing, Gabriel went directly to his study.
The room was still cold from the night before, and the newly lit fire gave off only a faint warmth against the chill.
The scent of old leather surrounded him as he crossed to his desk, but the familiar surroundings did little to settle his thoughts.
Lord Marbury’s death had been accepted as an unfortunate illness, and an apothecary had claimed it was the result of poison.
Eleanor’s supposed guilt had followed soon after.
She was not the first lady that it had happened to, and he knew she would not be the last, but she would not be a victim of it forever. He would make certain of that.
At first, Gabriel had believed Julian was simply a man with debts, and ambition that had seen an opportunity and chosen to exploit it. But Julian’s words the previous evening had changed something. His anger had not been the anger of a man who had discovered a convenient inheritance dispute.
It had been personal.
Gabriel sat at his desk and pulled a blank sheet of paper toward him.
The investigator he contacted would need to be discreet, because Julian could not know that anyone was examining the past before the truth was uncovered.
The circumstances surrounding Lord Marbury’s death would need to be investigated again.
Every detail that had been accepted without substantial questioning would need to be brought into the light.
When the letter was complete, Gabriel sealed it carefully and set it aside. Only then did he allow himself to confront the most troubling possibility that Julian had assistance.
The thought followed him through the morning as Ravenscourt slowly came to life around him.
He paused outside the nursery when he heard Sophie’s laughter within. The sound softened the tension that had settled in him since the ball. She was still a child, untouched by the cruelty surrounding her, trusting that the people around her would keep her safe.
And he would protect her. He would protect Eleanor too, but first he needed to discover who had placed them in danger.
Gabriel looked down the corridor, suddenly aware of every servant who passed through the house and every room where conversations could be overheard. The danger was no longer waiting beyond the estate walls. It was already within them.
And someone beneath his own roof was carrying word to the person that wanted to destroy them.