Page 21 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke (Duke Wars #2)
CHAPTER 21
S he used his name. His proper name. The attack against him had been a surprise, but that simple word uttered by Thalia practically shattered the whole of Gabriel completely.
For a moment, all he could do was stare back at her, hands resting securely against her shoulders. He was aware of the staring, the whispers, his sister’s panicked questioning, but it all fell into the background. Gabriel…she had called him Gabriel.
His arms moved around Thalia’s waist before she could collapse onto the ground. She looked an absolute mess, pallid face covered in tiny scratches with her undone hair full of natural bits and bobs.
There was no obvious tearing on her dress—nothing that would indicate anything more than a thorned bush snagging at the fabric—and it almost looked as if she’d willingly smeared dirt all along the hem.
“Thalia!”
The hairs on Gabriel’s neck immediately rose, and he turned to find the little marquess stumbling through the crowd, face twisted in a smoldering rage and completely soaked. Their eyes locked, and Giles suddenly looked as if a stiff breeze would knock him over completely.
“What did you do?” Gabriel was surprised at how even his voice was, given all the horrific things he wished to do to the man who stood before him.
“I did nothing!” Giles snapped, pointing an accusatory finger Thalia’s way. “She’s the one who was trouncing around the wilds like—like some sort of witch!”
The weight of Gabriel’s body swung him completely around, Thalia in his arms as he easily towered over the little marquess. “She is a guest at my manor. You will watch your tone.”
“She is my cousin,” Giles retorted. “And clearly, she needs to be returned home immediately.” He eyed the growing crowd and offered a smirk Gabriel’s way. “This is a family matter, your Grace; I’m sure you can appreciate the desire one has to protect their family.”
An immediate ripple ran through the crowd. Gabriel visibly bristled as his father’s name passed their lips. He wondered, perhaps, how many kicks it would take before Giles collapsed to the ground, how long he could stomp against his body until he remained motionless. A mere fantasy, of course, as he was trapped by social expectations.
“Come now, Your Grace,” Giles sneered, his arms extending outward. “I appreciate your help, but I think my sweet Thalia’s time at Stonewell has come to an end.”
Gabriel’s embrace tightened, spurred on by the half-conscious murmur of the woman in his arms. No; there wasn’t a force on this planet that could pry her from his grasp. If the little marquess wished for death so eagerly, he would happily trade the sky for a lifetime staring behind bars. Anything to keep her safe. Anything to ensure–
“–Oh, Thalia! I can’t believe I let this happen!”
Gabriel blinked, having nearly forgotten his sister’s presence. Charlotte had quite abruptly inserted herself into the drama, fawning and fussing over Thalia’s lingering state. All the while, she gave her brother a long, lingering stare, a clear command he needed no vocalization for; remember who we are.
“Lord Oslay, I do so apologize for putting you in such an awkward position,” Charlotte went on, grabbing Giles’ hand as she held it with tight regard. “Why, I was in such a frantic state, looking all over the estate for poor Thalia. Could you imagine my panic, realizing I had let her go and get into such a dangerous situation?”
She freed one hand, producing a handkerchief while dabbing the corner of her eyes lightly. “Why, if something had happened to her, I daresay I would never forgive myself! To think, if you had never stumbled upon her, completely turned around in the woods after simply wishing to enjoy what nature had to offer…”
Giles visibly flushed at Charlotte’s trembling voice, and the crowd seemed just as drawn into her miserable state. “Y-Yes, well… I certainly couldn’t leave her as she was. Poor thing was… horribly turned around. In quite a state,” he added hastily.
“And you certainly couldn’t blame her! Gracious, but she must have been lost for hours…” Charlotte sobbed lightly, burying her face into her kerchief. “It’s my fault, really; I’ve failed her entirely as a hostess. I fear I shall never invite another into my home again!”
The crowd began to murmur their pity, and Gabriel couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride. How easy it was for him, to speak boldly and demand his way.
Meanwhile, his sister had slowly worked the crowd into her sympathies, turning the entire situation against Giles, should he so choose to continue playing the part of an angry brute. A clever wolf indeed; one who learned not to rely on her teeth and claws, but to wear the wool of the mindless sheep she paraded around.
“Please, my lady,” Giles hastily replied. “I had not meant to cause any upset.”
“And yet, you have done just that,” Gabriel interjected, stepping before his sister as she partially swooned behind him. “Not only have you caused this horrible scene, but you insult my sister’s capabilities.”
Giles cleared his throat loudly, taking note of the shifting tide and glaring eyes. “N-no, I–I’m certain you are a lovely hostess indeed, Miss Harding!”
“Your ladyship,” Gabriel corrected coldly.
Giles visibly swallowed, shoulders hunching as he curled underneath Gabriel’s stare. “Y-Yes. Your Ladyship, I mean.”
Thalia stirred briefly in his arms, and Gabriel brought her closer to his chest. “Now, I believe I’ve exercised quite a bit of patience on your behalf, Lord Oslay.”
“Oh, yes,” Charlotte agreed a bit too chipperly. “We really should get our guest back to Stonewell. You don’t mind, of course, do you, my Lord?”
Gabriel watched a flicker of rage cross the little marquess’ eyes, but the crowd had him bound. Whatever anger tried bubbling to the surface was expelled with a loud clearing of his throat. “Of c-course not.”
Gabriel’s gaze narrowed further.
“Of course not… y-your ladyship.”
The crowd parted quickly, allowing the Hardings through and leaving Giles behind. Gabriel let their stirring gossip fall by the wayside, far more intent on keeping his arms steady and Thalia unmoving in his grasp.
“That was a sight to behold, Charlotte. Remind me not to cross you publicly.”
Charlotte exhaled sharply, her nerves now clear as day in her face and tone. “You liked it? I know you wanted to kill him there and then, so, I thought my interjection would make you cross.”
“I was,” Gabriel admitted. “That little marquess would be digging his own grave, had I had my way.” Once more, Thalia stirred in his arms, and he shifted gently to allow her head to settle against his chest. “You were inspecting her… rather closely.”
Charlotte’s expression hardened. “Can’t be too careful, especially after what I’ve heard about the man. Nothing seems to have happened, but I won’t know for sure unless Thalia mentions it. Not that I’d make her,” she added with a somber tone. “Poor thing’s been through enough already.” She stood behind Gabriel as their carriage approached, ensuring enough space was given so Thalia could be eased into a seat.
He could sense her unease, a desire to ask what remained unspoken between them for so long. “It was a cowardly blow,” Charlotte murmured. “Mentioning family the way he did. He knew exactly what he was doing.”
He did. To have used his father’s death like that… it still sat heavy in Gabriel’s stomach, welling a sour taste up his throat. No one had mentioned his father’s death in years; today had been the most he’d thought, or spoken, of the man.
“Are you all right, Gabriel?”
He sighed lightly, the weight of the world suddenly noticeable against his shoulders. “I will be,” he replied as coolly as he could manage. “The sooner the name ‘Tilbury’ is ruined, the better. You don’t need to worry.”
“I always do, though,” Charlotte retorted. “And I’m insisting you get yourself patched up when we get home. I’ll make sure Thalia makes it to her room.”
“She’s not leaving my side, Charlotte.” Gabriel caught the anger in his tone, noted the surprised look on his sister’s face. He inhaled deeply, wrestling whatever emotions flared up briefly back into the pit of his chest. They could be dealt with later; it was not Charlotte who caused such fury. “I’ll have the doctor look at my face after Thalia’s is checked.”
“Promise?” Charlotte scowled.
Gabriel nodded, settling inside the carriage as his sister followed suit. He carefully maneuvered himself beside Thalia, gently easing her against his side as her eyes fluttered. Feeling eyes on him, he glanced up, catching a smirk crossing Charlotte’s face. “What’s that for?”
“She said your name,” Charlotte beamed. “Your proper name, dear brother.”
She had, indeed. And it was destroying Gabriel from the inside out.