“I was in London. I barely recall. Higgins found me and brought me here.”
“Well, thank goodness for Higgins. And before London?” She was determined to squeeze his entire life story out of him.
He shrugged. “The Peninsular War and all that.”
“Right. So the model in your room was a war scene? It was incredible! All that detail! I’ve never seen the likes of it.”
His face shut down. “Yes. I am trying to reconstruct it.”
“May I ask why?”
At first, he looked like he would not answer. “To get it out of my mind,” he gritted through his teeth. Then he turned on his heels. “I won’t disturb you any longer.”
“Wait.” Birdie racked her brain. “How old are you?” she blurted out. It was the first thing that had come to her mind.
Gabriel turned an even darker shade of red. “Thirty-five,” he muttered. “Old enough to know that a gentleman does not shout at ladies.”
She took a big breath. “You have not, by any chance, ever seen a ghost here, have you? Or maybe even impersonated a ghost?”
“Impersonate a ghost?” He looked so comically flabbergasted that Birdie almost laughed. “Why would I do that?”
“To keep intruders at bay. With white sheets and such.”
He shook his head, then pulled a face. “You have given me an idea, there. Maybe I should try this to keep people away from me.”
“Are people so terrible to have about?”
He shrugged.
She played with the petals of the bouquet. “I know you don’t want me here. But I still don’t understand why you’d marry a girl, only to send her away an hour later.”
Gabriel opened and closed his mouth. Birdie continued before she lost the momentum: “I am particularly angry because you haven’t even attempted to get to know me. You haven’t given us a chance.”
“Us?” His voice sounded hoarse.
“Yes. You won’t even consider it. I would like to ask this of you: I will leave, if that is what you want, but give me a month to prove you wrong. Give our marriage a chance.”
There was a long pause. Then Gabriel said, “I don’t know whether that would be wise.”
More stubborn than a donkey. She decided to change tactics. “Then give me a chance to do something for the villagers here. They need my help. They need your help.”
His face shut down. “I do not intend to get involved in the locals’ lives.”
“But you’re a duke!” Birdie threw up her hands. “You have duties! You have estates! The people depend on you! Don’t you care at all about their welfare? Think about all the good you can do?”
“This, madam, is where I beg to disagree.”
“In other words, you refuse to take responsibility for them.”
“So it would seem.” His voice had turned frosty.
“Why? Won’t you help me understand why?” There was a pleading note in her voice.
Gabriel looked up, and she gasped at the stark sorrow she saw on his face. “Of what purpose would that be?” He raked a hand over his face. “Other than dragging out the inevitable.”
“It is important to me,” Birdie replied. “You may shirk your responsibilities, but I won’t. I’d like to have the chance to form a school for the children here.” And get my marriage to work, she added mentally.
Gabriel stared. “A school! But why?”
