Gabriel could not believe anything would be strong enough to smite his father’s life. He had been a relatively young man, not quite fifty, when he’d fallen off his horse. And even then, he ought to have healed and gone on to live an additional twenty or so odd years.
But a few days after the fall, the earl’s health had begun deteriorating. Something inside of him had been bleeding.
Gabriel had not believed that his father was going to die at the time. He’d held onto a tenuous hope until the last day, when his father’s chest had rattled, and the man Gabriel had always depended upon could no longer lift his head or his hand even.
Gabriel had sat with his mother, his sister, and two brothers in the darkened room, held his father’s hands, and taken several vows. Gabriel had also bargained with God.
In the end, God had taken the virile earl anyway.
Becoming the Earl of Kingsley had seemed overwhelming. Yes, his demons were, indeed, quite the opposite of Stanton’s. Whereas his friend needed to unburden himself of Crawford’s crimes, Gabriel feared he could never live up to his father’s legacy.
With good reason, too, apparently.
Shame rode heavy upon his shoulders.
The morning he’d awoke in Olivia Redfield’s arms, for the first time since making it, he’d been tempted to break the promise he’d made at his father’s bedside.
He’d wanted to make all sorts of promises to her instead… Defy his father’s final request.
Which caused him to hate himself all the more.
Because not only had he taken a woman’s innocence, he’d contemplated betraying the one person he’d loved more than anyone else in the world. His father.
Gabriel glanced to his right, ignoring the emptiness that washed over him as he passed the path that led to the small swimming pond. He doubted he would ever return. What had once been a peaceful retreat for him, had become the location that would always remind him of the worst parts of himself.
The monument to mark his dishonor.
“Hand it over,Crawford.” This ride was going to go on forever if he had only his own thoughts to entertain himself. Although the title tasted bitter on his tongue, Gabriel assumed he’d eventually get used to it. “If you’re starting early, I might as well, too.”
Stanton plugged the flask of whisky he’d been making use of and tossed it over.
Gabriel snatched it out of the air.
It seemed odd that his friend would leave his bride so soon. “I cannot imagine Her Grace was thrilled at your departure,” Gabriel commented innocently.
Her Grace.Olivia’s sister. He’d not gone to Olivia to say goodbye. They’d said everything that fateful morning.
“Whether she was thrilled has no bearing upon the necessity of this journey.” His friend’s words were short, not at all like the gentleman Gabriel had always known him to be.
Olivia would be shattered if Crawford hurt Louella. If there had been one thing she’d been pleased with throughout the course of their… friendship, it had been that her sister was settled happily.
He needed to stop thinking about her. “Already wanting to slip the harness, eh?” He tossed the flask back to Crawford. If he could discuss someone else’s problems, perhaps he could forget his own for five minutes.
“She’s not happy with me.” The announcement came as a surprise to Gabriel. Furthermore, his friend looked pained.
“In bed?” Crawford appeared far too lovesick for his own good.
At least Gabriel wasn’t the only one.
“Hell, no. Matters in bed are more than… I’ll not discuss this with you, you bastard.” The newly anointed Duke of Crawford took another long swig of the whisky.
“Ah, so what doesn’t she like about you, my friend? Your good looks? Your lowly title? Your diligence in caring for your responsibilities? The friendly and respectful manner in which you treat those around you?”
All of which was behavior that Gabriel had failed at.
After traveling several yards, his traveling companion grimaced.
“Did you not bother to ask her why?” Gabriel pushed.
