“Yes.”
The surprise flickered across her face before she quickly smoothed it away again. It was not a request they were accustomed to, and neither of them pretended otherwise. The three of them rarely shared meals. Routine, distance, and habit had long since dictated separate rhythms within the house.
Gabriel ignored her confusion. “There is someone I intend to introduce,” he added.
Valerie’s gaze briefly shifted toward Trixie before returning to him. “Very well, Uncle,” she replied with perfect politeness.
There it was again. That careful tone. That controlled distance. The same tone she always used with him. Gabriel studied her for a moment longer, his thoughts drifting uncomfortably back to the laughter he had overheard only minutes earlier. The warmth of it. The ease. The absence of restraint.
Valerie could laugh freely with her maid. She could speak without caution when she believed herself unobserved. Yet with him, she became someone else entirely.
The realization settled heavily, more persistent than he liked. Perhaps, he considered, the children did not simply respect him.
Perhaps they fear me.
The thought was not one he welcomed.
“Breakfast in half an hour,” Gabriel said at last, giving a short nod that ended the exchange.
“Yes, Uncle,” Valerie replied without hesitation.
There was nothing more to say. There rarely was. Gabriel turned on his heel and left the room, the sound of the door closing behind him carrying more weight than he cared to admit.
As the door closed behind him, he heard the silence he had created settle over the chamber. The sound bothered him all the way down the corridor. For the first time in a very long while, Gabriel found himself wondering whether the problem was not the children at all.
Perhaps the problem was him.
Nonsense.
Amelia was amazed to find that the mud from the road had been cleaned off her belongings. Her dresses were washed and folded in a bundle. Her bag had been refreshed, and her personal items were all inside, not one missing.
She spent far too long preparing for breakfast. She brushed her hair three times and still felt completely unprepared when she finally left her room. Every step towards the dining room seemed to increase her anxiety. Her entire future depended upon keeping this position. One mistake and she would be sent away, finding herself back in London facing her parents and the Duke of Mansfield.
The thought made her stomach tighten. She had escaped but only barely. Now, she found herself living under the roof of a moody duke who seemed to view every human interaction as a military campaign. Worse still, the Duke of Anderton unsettled her in ways she preferred not to examine. A single look from him was enough to make her feel simultaneously defensive and self-conscious. It was ridiculous.
But it’s all worth putting up with if it means I have freedom of choice. That is the most important thing in this matter, and right now, Anderton Manor provides that freedom.
As she descended the staircase, her thoughts drifted towards the peculiar family she had stumbled into.
The Duke himself seems permanently trapped somewhere between grief and irritation. And as for the young lady, well, she seems to be angry with the world, but why?
The entire household felt wrapped in secrets. Amelia’s curiosity only grew stronger.
A footman opened the breakfast room door for her. The moment Amelia entered, three pairs of eyes turned towards her. David brightened immediately upon seeing her. Valerie regarded her with cool reserve. Gabriel looked at the clock upon the mantel before returning his attention to her.
“You are late,” Gabriel informed her.
Amelia paused midway through entering the room and curtsied. “My apologies, Your Grace,” she said as she moved towards the empty chair. “Though I confess I am curious whether being two minutes late truly qualifies as late.”
Valerie’s eyes widened. David looked delighted. Gabriel looked deeply unimpressed. Amelia instantly realized she had said the wrong thing.
Wonderful.
She had apparently survived the vile carriage driver only to perish at breakfast.
Gabriel set down his coffee cup with deliberate precision. “A household functions because people adhere to schedules,” he said, his voice calm in the manner of approaching thunderstorms. “If two minutes become five minutes and five become ten, standards disappear.”
Amelia carefully lowered herself into her chair. “I see.”
