Gabriel frowned. “Yes.”
“That seems excessive.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Miss Shirley,” he said carefully, “you cannot spend an entire month borrowing garments from my staff.”
Amelia considered this. “Why not?”
Gabriel felt a headache beginning. “Because it is ridiculous.”
She smiled faintly. “That has never stopped me before.”
Against all reason, he almost laughed. The sensation startled him so much that he immediately stood and walked towards the window. Gabriel looked out into the darkness beyond the glass while trying to ignore the strange lightness that had briefly appeared inside his chest.
The woman is impossible. Foolish. Reckless. Entirely too comfortable challenging me.
Chapter Eleven
Gabriel had never particularly enjoyed silence, yet he often sought it. Silence allowed him to work. Silence allowed him to think. Silence allowed him to ignore the countless worries that seemed determined to plague his existence since Benedict’s death. Tonight, however, the silence inside his study felt unusually strained as Amelia sat across from him with a glass in her hands while candlelight danced across her features. He found himself watching her more than was reasonable, and that alone irritated him.
For several minutes, they drank without speaking. Amelia sat curled slightly into the chair, staring into the liquid as though answers might be hiding at the bottom of the glass.
Eventually, he broke the silence. “How are lessons progressing?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest. “Are you managing David better?”
Amelia lifted her gaze toward him and turned the glass slowly between her fingers. “I believe so,” she replied carefully, though something troubled flickered behind her eyes.
Gabriel studied her face and sensed the change in her mood. Whatever had occupied her thoughts since entering the study had little to do with lessons. He was about to press further when she surprised him.
“May I ask you something?” she asked quietly, lowering the glass onto the desk.
Gabriel nodded once. “You appear determined to do so regardless,” he replied dryly, motioning for her to continue. Amelia hesitated long enough to make his patience fray.
Then she looked directly at him. “Was it an accident?” she asked softly. Gabriel frowned immediately, unable to follow her meaning.
“What was an accident?” he asked, pushing away from the desk.
“David’s scar,” she said carefully. “Was it an accident?”
For a moment, Gabriel simply stared at her, then understanding settled heavily upon him, and with it came memories he would have preferred buried.
He remembered Benedict’s face the day he had learned the truth. He remembered the fury. The disbelief. The helplessness.Most of all, he remembered David’s terror whenever his mother entered a room.
“No,” he said coldly as he rose from his chair. “It was not an accident.”
Amelia looked genuinely distressed by the answer. “I do not understand,” she said, shaking her head. “How could you do such a thing to your own nephew?”
The words struck him like a slap. For one stunned second, Gabriel simply looked at her. Then the meaning of her accusation landed.
She believes I did that to him?
A dangerous stillness settled over him. Without speaking, Gabriel rounded the desk and walked towards her. Amelia rose from her chair, perhaps sensing her mistake. He continued advancing until she retreated several steps. The distance between them vanished quickly.
“You believe I harmed David?” he asked quietly, his voice far more dangerous than a shout.
Amelia’s eyes widened as she backed away. “I thought…” she began before stopping abruptly.
Gabriel continued forward until her back reached the wall. There was nowhere left for her to retreat. His hands plantedthemselves on either side of her, trapping her between the wall and his broad frame.
“You thought wrong,” he said, staring directly into her eyes. “It was David’s mother who put that scar upon him.”
