In a short span of weeks, Frederick had blossomed. Not only were his falling spells improving, but the warmth of Thea and her family had infused him with new vitality. Freddy was now a boy like any other. Glancing at Thea—talking quietly with Kent by the pianoforte—Gabriel experienced a spasm in his chest. It took him a moment to recognize his feelings as longing and gratitude… mingled with bone-deep fear.
He knew that he was being a bastard. Making a bloody hash of things. Day by day, he’d felt the chasm widening between him and Thea. It had started when she told him she loved him. The fierceness of his response had taken him aback; he hadn’t known how to answer. His inner voice had whispered,Begin as you mean to go on. Don’t set her up for disappointment.
To compound matters, the business with Heath the next day had… unsettled him. Resurrected a part of himself that he wanted nothing to do with. The mindless, bloodthirsty animal who had gotten Marius killed. No way in hell was he letting that near Thea. He had stayed away from her, couldn’t risk touching her, tainting her while the darkness raged inside him. When she’d pushed to get closer, he’d lashed out at her.
Guilt and self-hatred crept over him as he thought of how badly he’d treated her… again. She’d only wanted to help Freddy, and he’d acted like a damned blighter. When she’d left the room, a part of him had wanted to chase after her, to fall on his knees and apologize. The other part had kept him rooted in place, paralyzed by a growing sense of inevitability.
How could she love him, after all? When no one had done so before?
As the days had passed, thankfully the darkness in him had subsided, and finally, tonight, he’d felt in control again. The numbness had faded; he was back in his own skin. With crystal clarity, he realized that he needed to talk to Thea, to beg her forgiveness for his behavior. The only thing holding him back was fear. What if he’d bungled things up beyond repair? What if she no longer wanted him?
The advice that Strathaven had given him in the carriage suddenly echoed in his head.Drink from a clean cup.
The duke was right. Thea wasn’t Sylvia. She was unique, rare.
Stop acting like a namby-pamby fool,he told himself.Go and bloody talk to her.
Expelling a breath, he headed over to Thea and her brother.
“May I join in?” he said.
“Of course.” Her voice was light, her hazel gaze guarded.
“How are you finding our family affair?” Kent said.
“It’s lively,” he said honestly.
The investigator shared a wry glance with his sister. “We’ve certainly been called worse.”
“I meant no offense. By lively, I meant kind and welcoming—” he began.
“Ambrose is just teasing.” Thea’s smile chased away some of his emptiness. Hungrily, he absorbed her sweetness, her radiance, everything about her. “It’s a Kent tendency, I’m afraid.”
“Sometimes we can take it too far.” Kent’s gaze was directed at Harry and Violet, whose competitive game of cards had devolved into out and out war. “As Marianne loathes bloodstains on the carpet, I’d best put an end to that. Excuse me.”
Alone with his betrothed, Gabriel found that his heart was pounding.
“You look beautiful,” he said finally.
Her ivory gown clung to her exquisite bosom and slender waist, flaring into full skirts. With her golden brown hair arranged in cascading ringlets, she looked like a faerie princess. He felt like a dark goblin who wanted to spirit her away so that he could have her all to himself.
“Thank you,” she said politely. “You look very handsome yourself.”
There was a time when he masked himself in civility. But it suddenly felt like a tiresome barrier, something he wanted to rip away so that he could get close to Thea again. To her warmth and generous vitality. He resented having anything between them… even if he’d been the fool who’d put the wall there in the first place.
His chest tight, he said, “I wish to apologize.”
Her golden eyelashes flickered. “What for?”
Mentally, he reviewed his sins. Settled on the safest one. “For being an ass.”
She studied him, her expression so somber that dread crept through him. Then her mouth twitched. “You’ll have to be more specific,” she said.
He screwed his courage to the sticking place. “I know I’ve been… difficult this past week.”
“Yes,” she said, “you have.”
“I am sorry for it. For being disagreeable about Freddy’s treatment. For… everything.” He dragged the words out. “The whole business with Heath, discovering the nature of his betrayal—it disquieted me. I did not handle it well, and you did not deserve to bear the brunt of my behavior.”
