“Your brother warned me away from you.”
Eden smiled, eyes drifting shut. “Thomas means well, but he cannot understand my heart.”
“Do you truly know your heart, Eden?” Gabriel whispered, his voice strained with emotion.
“Yes,” she said, opening her eyes to meet his gaze boldly. “I know it longs for you.”
Gabriel drew in a ragged breath, the vulnerability in her words cutting through his carefully built defenses. His hand slid gently around the back of her neck, thumb brushing tenderly along her jaw. “And I fear mine longs just as deeply.”
Their faces drew closer, mere breaths apart, anticipation thrumming between them. Eden tilted her chin slightly, heart racing as Gabriel’s lips hovered tantalizingly close.
Footsteps suddenly echoed sharply along the garden path behind them, voices growing steadily closer. Eden’s gaze locked with Gabriel’s. A jolt of shared panic flickered between them. A silent awareness that their moment was slipping away. Eden’s heart lurched, and her breath caught in her throat. Gabriel pulled back instantly, releasing her and stepping away quickly, both rattled by the abrupt interruption.
“Eden? Gabriel?” Thomas called, voice concerned yet curious as he appeared around the garden bend. “Is everything all right?”
Eden inhaled slowly, pressing her palms flat against her gown in an attempt to compose herself. A flicker of heat flushed her cheeks, whether from embarrassment or the ache of sudden absence, she could not say. “Perfectly fine, Thomas,” she replied calmly, forcing a smile.
Gabriel nodded, expression composed once more. “We were merely enjoying the quiet of the night,” Gabriel replied, though a tightness lingered in his voice. The interruption, however benign, sent a flicker of frustration through him—an unwelcome return to the walls he had so nearly let fall. Still, he kept his features composed, unwilling to betray the ache left in the wake of what might have been.
Thomas regarded them with skepticism, but nodded slowly. “Mother was inquiring after you both. Perhaps you should return.”
“Of course,” Eden agreed swiftly, casting one lingering glance toward Gabriel as she followed her brother back toward the terrace.
Gabriel lingered, gaze following Eden until she vanished from sight. Her scent, a delicate trace of jasmine, clung to the air, stirring memories of midsummer evenings when she had raced through the gardens laughing, always just out of reach. It reminded him of everything he was dangerously close to reaching for. Every step she took away from him felt like a thread pulled taut within his chest, fraying the resolve he clung to.
He remembered the first time he saw her as more than Thomas’s younger sister, laughing, fearless, radiant with life, and knew that walking away now was no longer the simple act it once had been. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest, keenly aware of how close he had come to breaking his promise to Thomas.
Yet, beneath the conflicted emotions, a fierce yearning persisted, an ache not only for her presence, but for the quiet promise of a life that could still be. If only he had the courage to reach for it, if his past had not buried such dreams so deeply. He longed for a future untainted by obligation, unburdened by guilt. A future that began and ended with Eden.
Gabriel exhaled slowly, glancing once more at the moonlit pond, the reflection of the stars shimmering across its surface like scattered promises. He had come here seeking clarity, solitude, a sliver of control, but what he had found was her.
Eden stirred something within him he thought long extinguished, an ember buried beneath the weight of years, now fanned quietly back to life.
He could not walk away from her again.
Not without breaking something far more precious than a vow.
His own heart.
Five
The sun hung high in the summer sky as Thornton Hall’s verdant meadow came alive with the hum of bees weaving between blossoms. Nearby, the gentle rustle of leaves accompanied by the distant chirr of cicadas lent a steady rhythm to the afternoon’s quiet joy.
Eden surveyed the carefully arranged picnic beneath the shade of ancient oak trees, her heart light despite the quiet tension that lingered from last evening’s encounter at the lake. Baskets lined the embroidered cloths, filled with crusty bread, wedges of cheese, platters of cured meats, and pastries gleaming with fruit preserves. Nearby, a wicker hamper cradled chilled bottles of sparkling cider and elderflower wine, their glass beaded with condensation in the midday heat. She adjusted the lace-trimmed parasol above her head, grateful for its relief from the sun’s heat.
She had insisted upon today’s picnic—from her brother Thomas and their mother, the dowager Countess Pavington, to Miss Clara Mapleton and Lady Alice Pickford, Mr. Julian Price, and, of course, Gabriel himself. Eden smiled, recalling the quiet understanding in Gabriel’s eyes when she suggested the outing. She remembered the way his brow had relaxed and his shoulders had eased, as if her invitation had briefly lifted a weight he no longer wished to carry. He had offered only a slight nod, but that was enough.
As she watched the winding path, she could not shake the anticipation that braided her thoughts with equal measures of pleasure and apprehension. Her stomach fluttered in rhythm with the breeze.
At last, the party rounded the bend, laughter preceding them. Thomas rode at the forefront beside Mother, cane held casually across his lap, his face alight with good humor. Clara followed on foot, adjusting the train of her pale-yellow gown, while Alice strolled beside her with characteristic exuberance, her red curls bouncing. Gabriel came last, riding a dark chestnut mare at a leisurely pace. He dismounted gracefully, handing his reins to a nearby footman, then offering a respectful bow to Lady Pavington before lifting his gaze to Eden. There was something unspoken in his eyes. A quiet pull of emotion that held her in place as a tremor of awareness swept through her.
Soon after, Mr. Price arrived by carriage, stepping with elegant formality into the grassy meadow. Gabriel, who had been engaged in polite conversation with Mother, glanced toward the carriage with a subtle tightening of his jaw. His posture stiffened just enough for Eden to notice. Though he said nothing, the tension in his shoulders betrayed a flicker of disapproval.
Eden’s stomach fluttered with the curious weight of expectations she was not sure she wanted to fulfill. Dressed in a linen jacket of soft cream and wearing a freshly pressed cravat, Eden could not help but notice how carefully Mr. Price presented himself—polished, refined, and very much aware of the impression he made. And yet, despite his elegance, her thoughts flickered to Gabriel, whose quiet intensity and unpolished charm stirred something far deeper within her. In contrast, Mr. Price looked every inch the proper gentleman. His sandy blond hair was neatly combed, and his brown eyes sparkled with confidence. Eden’s pulse quickened as he made his way toward her, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead with a practiced ease.
“Lady Eden,” Mr. Price began, bowing low with a flourish. “What a delightful idea you had for this picnic. The countryside suits you beautifully.” His tone was smooth, his every word laced with charm.
“Thank you, Mr. Price,” Eden replied with polite warmth. “I thought a simple gathering in the meadow might be more relaxing than an indoor luncheon.”
