“No, I swear it. Your sister will never be harmed again under my care. I cannot—I could not live with myself if she were. And I promise you both that I’ll find out who did this, and theywillbe put in prison.”
Isabella frowned, her pale face and fair hair reminding him so much of Sibyl that he ached to go to her. “So it was a sabotage?”
“I am fairly certain.”
“How?” Isabella pressed.
“Because a wheel’s bolts do not simply unscrew themselves,” he said plainly, angrily,drily.
“Then what is your theory?” Isabella demanded.
Gabriel paused, seeing her in a new light.
“I—” He paused, unwilling to reveal too much about how his past and Sibyl’s were entwined. “I… I am worried it has to do with Sibyl’s late husband, Edmund.”
Hermia cursed under her breath, a word that should not have come from a lady, let alone a duchess, but Gabriel said nothing.
“I cannot stand that she is… that she is just lying there, unconscious,” she said, her voice cracking a little. “I hate seeing my little sister so helpless.”
“She is not helpless,” Gabriel insisted quietly. “Sibyl is stronger than anybody has given her credit for—and I mean no disrespect by that, even if I understand what you mean. I am worried to death, but she will be all right. Shehasto be all right. What did the physician say while I was outside?”
“She has a concussion,” Isabella replied matter-of-factly. “She also broke a few ribs, but those will heal. However, movement can hinder her recovery, which is why the physician gave her a sleeping draught.”
Gabriel nodded slowly.
“Do you have any family that wants to visit her?” Hermia asked hopefully.
Gabriel shook his head. “I have no family left—” He stopped to think, his mind flashing to Preston and his incessant requests to dine with Sibyl. “Well, I do have one family member who might want to visit her.”
“I think she needs all the company and support she can get right now,” Hermia told him gently.
Gabriel’s jaw clenched as he nodded. “I understand.”
He bowed his head to the two sisters before departing. First, he went to Sibyl, gazing at her still form, brushing a hand over her cheek, then he went to check on Rosie, who was bundled up inher nursemaid’s arms. Finally, he went down to his study, where he penned a response to Preston.
He kept it short and brief.
If you truly want to get to know my wife, then you may visit her tomorrow. Do not make me regret it, Preston, for we had our differences in the past. I do not want my wife coming to harm because of you, but you will see her on my terms, in my house, and you will leave whenever I ask you. Understood?
He instructed a footman to deliver the note before going back to the crash site, needing to keep himself occupied lest he go insane.
I could not save her, I could not protect her. She is lying there, unconscious, because I was not here. I am never here. Not for Sibyl, not for Letitia, never in time.
The thought echoed in his mind, over and over, torturous and demanding, until he found his way back to his wife’s bedside and held her hand like she could keep him adrift in the sea of chaos that was his mind and guilt.
Sibyl was swimming in an ocean of pain, aware of voices speaking around her. But mostly, it was the ache in her head and body that consumed her.
Every time she clawed her way back to the surface, more pressure blanketed her, forcing her down into a deeper sleep.
Eventually, she broke the surface, even if it felt like the most Herculean task in the world. When her eyes opened, she did not find her sisters, whose voices she could have sworn she had heard during her fight through the darkness. She did not find her husband either, although he was sitting on her other side, his brow pinched.
No, she found a man with hair dark as night, and it took her a moment to recall his name.
Preston.Gabriel’s cousin.
“Why… Why are you here?” The question slipped out, her voice hoarse from disuse.
Preston laughed, his voice nasally. “Heavens, Gabriel, she truly is your match. Bold and inquisitive. Theyaregood character traits.”
