Page 20 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke (Duke Wars #2)

CHAPTER 20

I t was moments like these that Gabriel was thankful for his title as duke, as it often kept his schedule quite busy. Instead of allowing himself time to be overrun by thoughts of Thalia—of Miss Sutton—there was paperwork to be done, wages to be paid, and general upkeep of the manor’s overall state.

Once Robin had left his office, he got to work immediately, settling at his desk for what was certain to be hours of busywork. The methodical nature of it all was soothing to his soul, the ticking lull of his clock helping to remain focused.

Gabriel caught up on any notes taken by his staff—grievances, obvious wear-and-tear of the estate, restocking on supplies—and attended to his calendar to make absolutely certain he was aware of every up-and-coming event.

“There’s the cards tournament for the two clubs coming up soon,” he mumbled under his breath. “And Christian insisted on a home visit sometime next week. I’ll need to discuss with Charlotte when she’d like her Seasonal event to take place as well…”

“Did you say my name, brother?”

Gabriel glanced up, having completely missed his sister having entered his office. Her face still looked tinged raw from earlier tears, but she appeared in far better spirits—a touch somber, he noted, but the morning had been quite the emotional display.

“You actually heard me just now?” he asked. “In enough detail to discern your name being used?”

Charlotte offered a slight grin. “When you’re a woman of high society, you develop a wicked sense of hearing. Always need to be in the know if someone’s gossip involves your name. Though, I was coming in regardless of my name’s usage,” she insisted. “It’s well into the afternoon at this point, and I figured you hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast.”

Gabriel glanced at his office clock, resisting the urge to balk at the time. How had he become so absent-minded to his surroundings?

“Thank you for the concern, but at this point, I think I’ll simply wait for dinner.” He glanced back at his schedule, sensing the weight of his sister’s gaze remained. “Unless…you need something else from me?”

Charlotte’s arms crossed lightly, a slight pout pulling at her lip. “Well, I was going to see if Thalia wished to go on a trip into town with me, but I can’t seem to find her anywhere.”

Gabriel found himself equal parts relieved and disappointed to hear that. “Perhaps she took to walking the manor’s boundary herself? She is not a prisoner trapped indoors, after all.” Still, he didn’t like the sense of unease her absence left in his chest. Perhaps he could take a look himself, ask the servants if they’d seen any sign of her.

“I know she’s not a prisoner!” Charlotte huffed. “I am… simply expressing my disappointment, is all.”

Gabriel’s expression softened, noting the slight tender twinge in his sister’s tone. He stood from his chair, rolling his shoulders as he offered her what reassurance he could. “Let’s take a walk together, then. See if anyone’s seen her.” It would help his nerves as well.

The siblings made their rounds quickly, checking the places Thalia had been found lingering beforehand. The library, the garden’s gazebo; their search turned empty until they crossed paths with a kitchen maid, who eagerly shared what she knew.

“Oh, yes! The lady had taken to the farther reaches of the woods; said something about foraging for wild onions.”

Gabriel hadn’t meant to sigh with such heavy relief. So that’s what she’d gotten up to.

“But, I hadn’t seen her near the edge of the garden,” Charlotte insisted.

“It’s possible she followed the path towards the glade,” Gabriel suggested. “Where the new park opens out into.”

“Ooh… it does wind out that way now, doesn’t it?” Charlotte’s expression furrowed, finger curling at a strand of loose hair. “You think she’ll be all right? What if she gets lost?”

“I’ve made that path quite impossible to stray from,” Gabriel insisted. Still, his own anxieties hadn’t quite been quelled over the news of Thalia’s whereabouts. “Why don’t we meet her at the end of the path, at the park proper? If she did happen to get lost, we’ll just follow it back to the house.” He gestured towards the servant, adding under his breath, “Ensure a few able bodied hands are keeping an eye on the manor’s path. Have one or two of them tread a few paces past the estate line.”

The maid nodded, hurrying to gather who she needed.

“Thank you for doing that, Gabriel.” Charlotte’s expression flickered, genuine worry covering her face. “I’m probably just overreacting, but…”

Gabriel nodded, offering a warm smile her way. Regardless of the nagging voice in the back of his head, he put on an air of warm confidence for Charlotte’s sake. No point in worrying her further, especially if it turned out to be nothing. “You really like her, don’t you?”

Charlotte partially mumbled something under her breath; a rare sight, given her usual boisterous attitude. She looked to Gabriel, sighed at his bemused grin, then said louder, “It would be rude not to thank her for today, okay? I thought, maybe, we could go back to a boutique we visited after the park’s opening, and she could finally pick out a proper dress for me to buy for her. I wanted to tear my hair out,” she added, a touch of her old spark back in her voice. “Watching her walk by all those pretty dresses and fabrics she obviously wanted.”

Gabriel’s brow raised slightly. “You mean she left empty-handed that day? I had assumed her purchases…” his sentence trailed off, as he rightly realized he would’ve seen anything Thalia bought. Giles would hardly let her store anything back at Oslay. “Let’s stop there on the way, then. You can show me what she was interested in, and it could be a nice surprise for later.”

A smirk crossed his sweet sister’s face, her hands folding innocently behind her back as she rocked on the heel of her feet. “Thinking about wooing her with expensive wares, are we? Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t bought out an entire store’s supply for her yet; I am thoroughly ashamed of you, dear brother! You really need to increase your efforts, or Thalia will start to see you less as her suitor.”

Memories of the library crept along the edges of his mind; it was the first time Gabriel felt any sort of heat linger across his face.

“Though I don’t see Thalia as that shallow,” Charlotte added matter-of-factly. “I think you could rightly give her a single, wilted flower, and she’d be just as delighted.”

She would. She truly, sincerely would. Gabriel offered his hand outward, Charlotte quickly accepting it as she looped her arm between his.

“I’m certain you already have thoughts as to help me woo her further?”

“Of course!” Charlotte beamed. “Visiting the boutique is a good first start, but we’ll need to do far more. You’re lucky I’m an expert in the art of planning.”

“Says the one who still hasn’t presented me her plan for her Seasonal event,” Gabriel noted lightly. “Perhaps a stroll through town will inspire a final decision on your part, hmm?”

She offered a cheeky grin in return, practically pulling Gabriel out of his office and down the hall.

* * *

Her legs refused to listen to her mind’s desperate scream to run. Unladylike behavior be damned; Thalia couldn’t stay here, not with Giles looking at her like that. Blood rushed through her body, her heart pounding in her ear, and it was all she could do to remain standing.

He observed her, inspected her, leered at her with those eyes of ice. It was as if winter had come crashing into the grove, racing to claim every inch of her in its terrible frostbite.

“Well?” Giles asked. “Aren’t you going to greet your dear cousin?”

Thalia’s lips trembled, and somehow, she managed to speak past the growing lump in her throat. “G-Good afternoon, Giles.”

He cocked his head, stroking his chin in mock-contemplation. “No; I think I’d prefer it if you address me properly.”

A cold sweat formed on the back of Thalia’s neck. “Good… afternoon.”

“Properly, Thalia.”

Something primal flashed across Giles’ eyes, tearing a hitched gasp from her throat. His look of satisfaction nearly brought her to tears, and Thalia bit the inside of her cheek, clinging to the taste of copper and faint throb of pain to keep herself together. Slowly, she lowered herself into a curtsy and held it, avoiding Giles’ wandering eye. “Good afternoon, Lord Tilbury.”

She didn’t need to see his face to feel his utter contempt. “Yes, it has been a good afternoon, hasn’t it? Especially now, with your sunny disposition here to brighten it considerably.” His shoes appeared in her vision, his hand snaking out to grasp her chin.

She grew rigid, forced to rise from her curtsy and meet his gaze.

“You looked very at-home just now. On your knees, rummaging for God knows what on the ground.”

Thalia remained silent, jaw aching at his vice-like grip.

“Suppose a duke’s hospitality means very little, if you’re forced to scavenge for your daily meal.” His expression softened alongside his grip, and for a moment Thalia wondered if he truly felt any ounce of remorse.

Pity, she supposed, was a closer guess to his feelings toward her. “You shouldn’t have to debase yourself like this, you know. Come home, sweet Thalia; it truly pains me to see you in such a state.”

A spark of anger melted through her hesitance, and Thalia forcefully stepped back, breaking free from her cousin’s grasp. “You shouldn’t speak of others so brazenly, my lord. One hardly knows who could be listening in.”

Giles’ face hardened, and he stepped to close the distance between them. “I agree! To speak such open disdain about one’s superiors; why, it’s liable to get you in quite a bit of trouble. Shame no one ever seemed to teach that butler of mine—or, I suppose former butler, is more indicative of his status.”

Thalia’s foot caught against the stream bank, fighting not to lose balance as her cousin’s words sunk in. “Y-You didn’t.”

Giles shrugged simply. “I can’t have disloyal staff at Oslay, now can I? Rather unwise of him, speaking so candidly about his new lord and master.”

“You’re lying.” Thalia was surprised at how sharp and direct her voice was, compared to how horrifically terrified she remained. “Mr. Cooke isn’t one to stoop to such juvenile acts.” Her fist tightened, casting a brief glance over her shoulder at the churning stream. “Your childish vendetta is against me; don’t take it out on others because you lack the appropriate grace to handle your emotional tantrum.”

His hand came as a blur, grasping for her neck as rage overtook Giles completely. By instinct alone, Thalia managed to duck down, his legs catching against her curled form before he went crashing into the stream.

Then, pushing her hands against the ground, she flew across the grove and into the woods, sprinting blindly while the furious howls of her cousin lingered behind her.

Every inch of her screamed, every breath she gasped for burning inside her lungs. Twigs whipped at her face while roots seemingly rose to catch her in a stumble; the very forest was conspiring to cause her end.

Just run , Thalia repeated in her mind, over and over. Just run, Thalia .

There was no chance of tripping, of falling down and allowing Giles any form of advantage. The blinding panic, her mindless sprint, a lack of direction and a numbing resolve to escape—Thalia knew if she were to be caught, it would mean death for this little rabbit. There was no honor in this hunt; her cousin would be out for blood.

She stumbled through a row of brush, blinking furiously as full sunlight greeted her. No longer was the sky obscured by a canopy of trees, but bright and expansive, complementing the neat and tidy look of the park.

A brief spark of hope spurred Thalia onward, ignoring the scrutinizing looks of society as she kept to the outskirts. The path meant accessibility, a lack of cover on her part, and judging by the startled outcry of folk behind her, she hardly had the luxury to take the paved ways.

Eventually, her cover came to an end, replaced with towering buildings and confined flower plots of perfectly curated florals far too tiny to hide behind. Thalia’s head swiveled, trying to find another place to go, another direction to run, only to let out a startled shriek as a hand clapped against her shoulder.

Her body no longer froze in fear, hands striking out with everything she had as nails found purchase against flesh. And she dug, and raked, and kicked, and welled for another scream–

“--Thalia, stop!”

The familiar tone snapped her free of her frenzy, and Thalia suddenly became aware of her surroundings. Of the lingering crowd of proper folk, staring and whispering and pointing at her state of duress. Of her hair, undone and wild, adorn with leaves and tiny twigs, and her dress, far muddier than before, with knicks and tears the forest had inflicted upon her.

Of the man’s face to whom she attacked, red and bruising, with clear marks of her nails red and certain to ache. The man’s face—it took a moment to piece together, to pair with the voice she’d come to associate with an iota of comfort and protection.

“G-Gabriel?”