A sharp, unwelcome image formed in her mind: Gabriel bound to Helen through obligation, reputation, or worse, blackmail. Amarriage not built on choice but necessity. And her own place within this house was erased as if it had never existed.
The thought made her feel distinctly unwell.
By the time she reached the window overlooking the front drive, dusk had begun to settle over the estate. She stood there for several long moments, watching the empty gravel path stretch toward the gates.
No carriage. No horse. No sign of return.
She finally turned away and found Mrs. Jacobs in the corridor near the servants’ passage, arms neatly folded, expression as composed as ever.
“Mrs. Jacobs,” Amelia said, trying to keep her tone even. “Has there been any word from His Grace?”
The housekeeper shook her head. “None at all, Miss Shirley.”
Amelia nodded slowly. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Jacobs hesitated for the briefest moment, then added, “He will return when he is able. He always does.”
Amelia offered a small, appreciative smile, though it did little to settle the unease coiling in her chest.
“I hope you are right,” she murmured.
And as she turned back toward the staircase, she could not quite decide whether she meant it for Gabriel’s sake or for her own.
The village inn sat at the edge of the road like a tired old sentinel, its timber beams leaning slightly as though burdened by too many years of overheard secrets. Lantern light spilled from its windows onto the muddy street, casting wavering gold across puddles disturbed by passing carts. Inside, the main tavern room was warm in a way that felt almost deceptive, the heat from the hearth doing little to soften the tension that coiled in Gabriel’s chest as he stepped through the door.
Helen Warring stood immediately upon seeing him. She looked composed, almost refined, in a dark traveling dress that suggested she had planned this encounter carefully. Her smile was polite, measured, and entirely without warmth.
Gabriel forced his expression into something resembling cordiality and crossed the room, extending his arms in what might have passed for an embrace. He felt her stiffness as they touched and released her almost instantly.
Helen tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing with relief. “You have come at last,” she said, her voice smooth as polished glass. “I was beginning to wonder whether you would show at all, Gabriel.”
Gabriel drew back just enough to look at her properly, his tone calm, almost gentle. “I must confess,” he replied, “it took a very long time to think things over. But afterward, I realized how right you are.”
Helen’s brows lifted faintly as she lowered herself into the chair he pulled out for her. “Oh?” she said, clearly pleased by his tone.
“The children,” Gabriel continued, easing the chair slightly so her back faced the front door entrance, “deserve their mother. And it is only natural that you should become my wife.”
A soft breath escaped her lips, relief loosening her shoulders. “At last,” she murmured, “you have some sense.”
Gabriel inclined his head, hiding the disgust that rose sharply at the words he had just spoken. “There is much to discuss,” he added smoothly. “Let us order dinner. We should celebrate properly.”
Helen smiled as though she had already won something substantial. “I would be delighted,” she said.
Gabriel lifted a hand and signaled the serving wench. “Bring us your finest port,” he said evenly, “and a full meal: roast, vegetables, meat pies, and custard.”
The young woman nodded quickly and hurried away, skirts brushing the floor as she disappeared toward the kitchen. Helen watched her go with mild amusement.
“My, what an appetite,” she commented lightly, folding her hands in her lap.
“I have not slept,” Gabriel replied, leaning back slightly as if easing into conversation. “I have been… very busy putting my affairs in order. Especially considering your previous marriage to my brother.”
Helen’s expression flickered, though only briefly. “Did you run into any obstacles?” she asked.
“None…” Gabriel said simply, “… that coin could not solve.”
A small laugh escaped her. “Of course,” she said, as though the world had always functioned in such a manner. Then, more softly, she added, “I believe Benedict would have wanted it this way.”
Gabriel did not hesitate. “I agree,” he said.
