“That can be arranged,” he assured.
And somehow that simplicity, after everything, felt like the most extraordinary thing of all.
He drew her into an embrace then. Amelia closed her eyes against his shoulder.
And for the first time in a very long time, the weight she had been carrying simply… gave way.
Not loudly. Not painfully.
Just finally and completely gone.
I have finally made a choice on my own. And I choose you, Gabriel Warring. Duke of Anderton.
Gabriel did not quite trust the feeling that had settled in his chest.
Relief, yes. That was part of it. A deep, bone-weary easing of tension he had been carrying for days, perhaps longer than that if he was honest with himself. But threaded through it was something sharper, more disorienting.
The knowledge that Amelia had accepted him had not simply resolved a crisis; it had shifted something fundamental in the shape of his life. Anderton Manor, which had once felt like a duty he endured, now felt briefly, impossibly, like family.
Amelia walked beside him as they made their way up the main staircase, her hand lightly brushing the rail. The house had settled into the night around them. Candles burned low in their sconces, casting soft gold against the portraits of long-dead Dukes who seemed to watch their progress with indifferent patience.
“You do not have to escort me to my room,” Gabriel murmured, though he did not slow his steps.
Amelia tilted her head up at him, her expression dry with amusement. “I do,” she replied at once. “You look as though you are ready to sleep on the stairs. I am merely ensuring you make it to your bedchamber in one piece.”
Gabriel let out a faint breath that might have been a laugh. “How fortunate I am to have such devoted supervision.”
“How fortunate indeed,” she said, entirely unrepentant.
They turned into the upper corridor, where the silence deepened. Thick carpets softened their footsteps.
“What would I do without you?” he asked before he could temper the thought.
Amelia did not hesitate. “Now you shall never find out.”
That answer struck something unexpectedly warm in him. Not sentimentality exactly. Something steadier. A recognition that he was no longer walking alone through the consequences of his own life.
She is going to be my wife.
As they approached his door, Amelia gave a sudden soft laugh.
Gabriel glanced at her. “What is humorous?”
She lifted her chin toward the threshold ahead. “It appears you have a guest who has been waiting for you.”
Gabriel followed her gaze and stopped.
Curled neatly against the base of his door, as if it had been assigned the task by divine authority, was Shadow. The cat had claimed the space with complete confidence, tail tucked around its paws, eyes half-lidded in patient ownership.
For a moment, Gabriel simply stared.
Then, despite the exhaustion pulling at every muscle in his body, he let out a low laugh. “I suppose I have a guardian.”
Amelia’s smile softened. “You have many.”
Something in that landed more deeply than it should have. Shadow lifted its head as if acknowledging him with solemn approval before standing and stretching leisurely.
Shadow slipped through the moment his door opened, brushing past his boots without ceremony.
