“You want love!”
Jolting, her hand almost knocked over her teacup. “No. Don’t be absurd.”
“You just went all dreamy-eyed, Gabriella.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Really?” Her aunt gave her a dubious stare.
“I have no expectations of marrying for love, Aunt. I never have. But harmony would be nice. And frankly, Fielding and I have nothing to talk about, besides the mundane.”
Leaning forward slightly, Aunt Caroline pushed her plate aside so she could rest her elbows on the table. “Love is a wonderful thing, Gabriella. If you think you have a chance at it, then I would advise you to take it.”
“I am not in love!” She shook her head, regretting having said anything at all.
“Marriages within the aristocracy are much like business arrangements. Mine certainly was, and as a result, I gave up on love in favor of marrying for duty. I ended up living with a man with whom I hardly spent any time at all. We were partners in a deal our parents had struck, but our hearts were never in it. He loved another, and so did I. The most painful thing of all was watching those whom we cared for end up just as we had—married to the wrong people.”
“I’m so sorry,” Gabriella whispered. “I never knew.” And what a different story from the one her parents had told her last night when they’d adamantly insisted that she would eventually find love with Fielding.
“You had no reason to, until now.” Staring firmly at her, Aunt Caroline said, “The point is, marriage cannot be undone, so you must be absolutely certain that you say your vows to the right person.”
“What if that person doesn’t exist? What if Fielding would be best for me, and I ruin my chance with him on account of some misguided uncertainty?” The fear that she would make a mistake that could not be fixed—the sort of mistake her sister had made—weighed heavily upon her shoulders.
“Perhaps if we go over all of your options, we’ll arrive at the right one,” Aunt Caroline suggested. “What are your thoughts on Lord Rothgate?”
“I suppose he’s pleasant enough, but Fielding is handsomer, I think.”
“How about Lord Barkley, then?”
Gabriella frowned. “Too shy for my taste, and not nearly as well liked as Fielding.”
Several more bachelors were mentioned, including a couple of well-known scoundrels. The mention of their names made Gabriella laugh. “Papa would have an apoplectic fit if I married either of them. He would never approve, and frankly, neither would I.”
“Hmm . . .” Aunt Caroline gave her a shrewd look. “Shall we consider Huntley, instead?”
The mention of the duke’s name brought an unbidden flash of heat to Gabriella’s cheeks. She glanced away, unable to meet her aunt’s gaze. “No. Papa would never give us his blessing.”
“But what if he did? Would you seriously consider him then?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Gabriella said, her voice much higher than she’d intended. “I barely know the man. It—it would never work.”
Aunt Caroline seemed to consider that for a moment before shrugging slightly and saying, “You’re probably right. For such a match to happen, you would have to go against your parents’ wishes and the expectations that everyone has for your future.” She nodded pensively. “Yes, you would be a duchess, but would you still maintain your social standing? Probably not, considering the ton’s response to Huntley. And since you’re not the rebellious sort, Fielding does seem like the safest choice for you.”
Pressing her lips together, Gabriella stared back at her aunt. “Stop trying to influence me.”
Aunt Caroline leaned back with a snort. “Forgive me if that is how you see it. My only intention is to give you a fresh perspective so you can determine your own wants—something that must be difficult to do after constantly having to listen to everyone else’s.” Pushing away from the table, she stood up. “Now, I do believe I shall go for a walk. Will you join me?”
“No, thank you,” Gabriella murmured. Her mind was filled with so many conflicting thoughts and emotions, it seemed impossible to think straight. “I think I’m going to see if there are any ladybirds about.”
Leaving the dining room a short while later, Gabriella headed out into the garden. The weather was cooler today, prompting her to wrap her arms about herself as she descended the stone steps leading down to a paved path on the right side of the terrace. A small gathering of birds took flight the moment they heard her approach, their cacophonous calls accompanying her as she went.
Reaching the rose beds, Gabriella admired the fresh little buds. Another week or so and they would start to open, permeating the air with their thick aroma and luring bees and butterflies to them. A sigh escaped her. If Fielding proposed as expected, she would probably be planning her wedding once these roses were in full bloom.
If she accepted.
A loud grunt drew her attention. Tilting her head, she stilled to listen, her breath coming sharply when she heard it again. A succession of other exclamations had her staring at the wall that separated her garden from the courtyard that sat between her house and Huntley’s. There was a large wooden door in it that was meant to provide the gardener with easy access—a door she’d never really considered before since she’d had no use for it. It loomed before her now, drawing her closer with each resounding utterance rising from the opposite side.
Reaching the door, Gabriella studied the coarse grain and the iron handle for what felt like an eternity. She knew where it led—to the stable courtyard that stood between her house and Huntley’s. Both had access to it. Another few grunts. Ugh. Hmpf. Augh. Gabriella wrinkled her nose at the door. She should not venture through it. She ought to move on—continue with her ladybird search and ignore whatever was going on in the courtyard. That would be the proper thing to do. But as yet another grunt was hurled up into the air, she couldn’t help but push down the handle and ease the door open, just enough to appease her curiosity.
