Page 23 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke (Duke Wars #2)

CHAPTER 23

T halia’s third day at Stonewell Manor had started earlier than anyone anticipated, and thus, the rest of her time was dedicated to staying on the grounds. Charlotte had insisted heavily upon doing so, and in his own way, Gabriel (it seemed so strange, referring to him as such) seemed more than willing to accommodate.

Whatever activity Thalia even briefly brought up, he immediately ensured it happened. Painting in the garden, an easy horseback ride around the mansion proper—if she wanted to swim about the fountain near the front of the manor, she was certain he’d allow her to do so. Her only source of anxiety was her brother, or a lack thereof; Robin had been entirely absent since yesterday.

“Your brother?” Gabriel pondered for a moment, rolling a freshly-picked strawberry between his fingers. “He mentioned going to Whitechapel to ‘check in on things’. I assumed you would know what that meant.”

Thalia frowned, having barely touched her own bowl of fruit. Something about his tone, the way his posture stiffened—it set her entirely on-edge.

She tried to distract herself with Charlotte’s antics, noting her empty berry basket and her body stretched across their blanket like a cat lazing in the sun. She only wished she could be so relaxed.

“I’m sure he’s just roughing it with his friends.” Charlotte practically purred, stretching an arm out as she plucked another strawberry straight off the bush. “You mentioned he had quite the loyal crew back in Whitechapel—I’d be worried myself, if I hadn’t seen them in a few days.”

That sounded at least a touch more reasonable. Still, Thalia couldn’t help but cast her eyes Gabriel’s way, unease skittering across her skin.

“Gracious, but these are divine!” Charlotte wiped her red-stained face with the back of her arm, eliciting a slight groan from her brother. “I wish Louise was here—she had such a terrible craving last we chatted. Oh, and Madeline is a genius with strawberries—Thalia, you would never taste another strawberry tart the same!”

“Maybe we could fill our baskets again and bring some to them?” Thalia proposed.

The Harding siblings immediately sat to attention, exchanging worried looks between them.

“I haven’t returned from war, you know!” Thalia scoffed, arms crossing against her chest. “I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs a bit.”

“You could stretch your legs on Stonewell ground,” Gabriel offered lightly, but the veiled danger underneath wasn’t lost on her. He was telling her ‘no’.

“I can’t simply hide away from yesterday’s embarrassment,” Thalia said. “The sooner I get myself back into society’s eye, the better my reputation will stand. Besides, both women have proven themselves to be lovely individuals. I expect nothing less, though,” she added with a slight smirk. “Given their part of your inner circle, Charlotte.”

Charlotte beamed, ego clearly stroked and chest puffed out proudly.

“Well, I do have a knack for identifying honest folk. Oh, let us go, Gabriel! It wouldn’t be that long of a trip; Madeline’s hosting a sewing circle at her home, and I have no doubt Louise is there as well.” She squealed, clapping excitedly as she added, “They’re probably making little hats and booties and mittens for the baby! Please, Gabriel, please?”

Gabriel visibly gritted his teeth, and for a moment, Thalia wondered if this would be the first time he exercised his influence against them. But, after a moment, he let out a light sigh and waved the two away, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“You aren’t taking any of mine, then. And I’m not helping you pick any new ones.”

“That’s rather un-gentlemanly of you,” Thalia teased.

“Yes, how dare you make your sweet, sweet sister pick strawberries all by her lonesome!” With a huff, Charlotte stood and gathered herself, marching off towards the bushes with nothing but the hem of her dress outstretched.

“Charlotte Ann Harding, don’t you dare use your dress as a basket!” Gabriel snapped.

“Ooh, let her be,” Thalia laughed. “I know an old family recipe to remove difficult stains.”

“Do you, now?”

Thalia’s cheeks burned at Gabriel’s suggestive tone. She turned back to face him, a strawberry pinched between his fingers as he offered her a bemused grin. She eyed his expression, then the strawberry, and with little thought, she launched forward and snatched it between her teeth.

“H-Hey!”

Thalia couldn’t help but squeal in delight at Gabriel’s genuine surprise. She did her best to get away, only for his arms to grab her waist and hoist her upright. Her own panicked cry fluttered into laughter between them, him rolling her back across the blanket, splayed out, hands pinned across. He stared down at her, breathing heavy, and she couldn’t help but note the predator spark in his eyes.

“Awfully daring, putting your hands so close to a wolf’s jaw,” Gabriel growled softly.

“Suppose this rabbit doesn’t mind getting bit,” Thalia replied, breathless.

For a moment, she allowed herself to be looked over. Allowed that hunger in his eyes to swirl, to hold that control over Gabriel for a brief, wonderful moment.

The anticipation was unbearable, her legs squirming beneath him, and she wanted nothing more than for him to bite her around the neck. But a rustling from the brush pulled them upright, a call from Charlotte to get moving spurring her back to her feet.

“We’re not done just yet.” Gabriel’s voice was rough, curt; he was just as disappointed as Thalia was.

“Of course not,” Thalia replied, trying her best to keep herself upright on still-quivering legs. “That was just a taste, after all.”

* * *

Charlotte had, in fact, been incorrect about Louise. When the pair arrived and settled into the parlor, it was only Madeline herself who greeted them. “She did wish to visit,” their hostess explained. “But, she was feeling unwell.”

Charlotte made a spectacular face. “Thalia, remind me never to become a mother myself. It sounds simply awful.”

“I would reserve your judgement until you find someone for yourself,” Thalia chuckled. “By then, you may very well be singing a different tune.”

“Doubt it,” Charlotte huffed.

Madeline offered nervous laughter herself, shifting both baskets of strawberries more securely into her arms. “Well, thank you again for the fruit. I’ll make sure to bring a bit of whatever I make.”

“You know me far too well,” Charlotte beamed.

“Thank you kindly, Madeline,” Thalia said.

Madeline offered a small smile, her eyes suddenly lighting up. “Oh! Before I forget…” she darted behind the door, returning soon after with two, beautifully-made cards decorated in florals. “I wanted to invite you two to my Seasonal event. I’m…surprised how many have already confirmed their presence, and having a few familiar faces will make it so much more bearable.”

Charlotte immediately snatched the card out from her friend’s hand, though Thalia was a touch more hesitant. “You’re inviting me as well, Madeline? Are you sure? I’m not certain you’ve heard what happened yesterday.”

Madeline nodded curtly, surprising Thalia with mid-interruption. “It’s like I said before, my Lady. You are deserving of respect.”

Thalia’s smile warmed, wanting nothing more than to embrace Madeline there and then. Instead, she cleared her throat lightly, tucking her invitation between the seam of her light jacket. “Well, at least I’ll be able to attend someone’s Seasonal event while I’m here.” She eyed Charlotte teasingly, her replying with a mocking scowl.

“Between Gabriel’s fathering and your mothering, it feels as if I never lost my parents to begin with.” Charlotte said, then turned to Madeline, putting on her brightest grin. “Madeline, dear, would you mind terribly hosting us for the afternoon? Gabriel has barred us from returning home.”

“Only for a few hours,” Thalia clarified. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, not at all!” Madeline insisted, gesturing out the parlor doors. “I was already prepared for Louise visiting. Please, follow me; you’re excused for now,” she added to the lingering maid. “Take a moment to the kitchen and relax.”

As the maid nodded, Madeline led the pair inside, and Thalia took the time to truly take in the manor’s decor. The stained wood walls and clean flooring was pleasant enough, though the real beauty came from the assortment of potted ivy and floral arrangements that appeared to be trying to escape from their vases.

It reminded her of an enchanted cottage from a children’s book, complete with an assortment of books and glimmering crystals and other natural oddities.

“Your decoration is so lovely, Madeline,” Thalia crooned.

“Oh.” Madeline paused, allowing Thalia a chance to catch up as she adjusted her spectacles. “Thank you so much. You’re one of few who thinks so.”

“Some unsavory individuals find Madeline’s taste too ‘country’ for ‘the finery of London society’,” Charlotte groaned. “But I think it’s straight out of a fairytale.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Thalia grinned. “It feels like we’ve stepped into an entirely different world.”

A red flush crossed Madeline’s face, and she nervously twirled a strand of hair hanging over her shoulder. “That’s very kind of you to say. Father allows me to decorate as I please…I had hoped to create a haven of sorts, from the persistent gaze of higher society. I’m glad you find it so effective.”

It truly was. Thalia found herself taking mental notes as they walked; surely, such universal decorations could easily be obtained once she was back at the rookery.

And the drawing room they ended up in looked positively otherworldly, heavy with the earthy scent of potting dirt and a fresh breeze that occasionally blew in through the window.

A few books had been abandoned alongside the window’s reading seat, bookmarked with dozens of pressed flowers no doubt created by Madeline herself. Then there were a pair of settees surrounding a glass coffee table, cushions covered in a number of small, half-stitched dresses and freshly started embroidery pieces.

“I apologize for the mess. My maid offers to remove those every day but–” Madeline said.

“Don’t fret, Madeline.” Charlotte laughed. “We’re the ones who surprised you.” She skipped towards one of the settees, carefully handing a white-linen nightgown decorated in tiny asters and morning glories. “Gosh, you’re absolutely talented; look how adorable this is, Thalia!”

“It looks professionally made,” Thalia beamed.

Madeline blushed wildly, fiddling with her glasses once more. “That’s very kind of you to say. I’m not sure if it’s as good as the others, though.”

“Others?” Thalia inquired.

“She’s making one for every month in autumn and winter,” Charlotte explained. “That’s when Louise is supposedly delivering.”

“Gracious, Madeline!” Thalia marveled. “That’s six gowns in such a short time! And you mentioned ‘others’—you’ve finished some already?”

Madeline nodded sheepishly.

“Well, I would be honored if you’d let us help,” Thalia said.

Charlotte gasped, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Ooh, yes!” I haven’t made anything for the baby yet; this is the perfect chance! Thalia and I could embroider the flowers while you sew!”

“I would think the actual sewing part would be more time-consuming,” Thalia chided teasingly, finally joining the pair at last. “Feel free to direct us, Madeline. We’re your unexpected guests, so the least we can do is be of use.”

Charlotte made a slight face, but Madeline looked more than thrilled by her offer. “Actually, I could use help with tidying up August’s florals—and, Thalia, if you truly don’t mind, I’ve only cut the shape out for October.”

“I’ll handle the florals!” Charlotte cried out, immediately scanning the couches before snatching up another linen dress embroidered with colorful poppies. A few did seem to be missing their petals and stems, and the designs were small and detailed. Thalia was somewhat relieved to be handling construction.

The trio eventually fell into a peaceful rhythm, with Madeline occasionally giving creative direction. Charlotte had immediately fallen into her own little world, embroidering up a storm with a look of absolute concentration.

That left Thalia to bear the brunt of conversation, though she hardly minded, given how much of a mystery Madeline still was to her.

“So, your father runs a boarding school out in the countryside?” Thalia inquired. “I must say, that would entirely explain your taste in decor.”

Madeline nodded, having grown far more at-ease as time passed. She hardly stumbled over her words, and her once soft, mousy tone had grown slightly bolder.

“He had little opportunity to advance in society h-himself as a child. He never told me exactly how it happened, but one day, he received an amazing schooling opportunity and worked very hard to gain the r-respect of the upper class.” A dreamy look crossed her eyes, as if recalling a fond memory. “That’s where he met my mother, and… w-well, I simply wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Thalia mindlessly slipped her needle through the fabric, operating on instinct as her attention went to Madeline. “Gracious, but that truly is serendipity at its finest.”

“It is,” Madeline agreed. “And he wanted nothing more than to pass that good fortune on to others in need of a little extra luck.”

“Thus his choice in location,” Thalia said, letting out a longing sigh as she finished another stitch. “Gracious, but he’s done exactly what I hope to accomplish someday. It–” she hesitated for a moment, needle wavering in her hand. “I had the brief fortune to learn of estates left from my family’s maternal side.”

“I didn’t know that,” Charlotte piped up, fully present once more in their conversation.

“Gabriel never mentioned it?” Thalia asked. “It’s… partly how we met. He’s helping me obtain the deeds—I’m not entirely sure how he’s going to do it, though, given how my cousin burned them.”

Charlotte gasped sharply, Madeline offering a sympathetic frown. ‘Oh, Th-Thalia… that’s terrible.”

Thalia nodded, lining up the next pairs of fabric before making the first, quick stitch. “For a brief moment, the vision was so clear; a collection of boarding schools, accessible for children in similarly bleak situations.” She paused, adding hastily, “This must stay between us, though. The last thing I need is Giles learning of my gossip.”

“Hardly gossip if it’s true,” Madeline offered gently. “B-but, I’ll keep it to myself.”

Charlotte groaned, her tone sour and expression even more so. “Well, I’m glad Gabriel invited you to stay with us. Gracious, but could you imagine if you were still in Whitechapel? After what I witnessed yesterday, I tremble to think what that witless cousin of yours would try.”

“I’m very grateful for your brother’s intervention,” Thalia admitted. “By all accounts, he’s doing it simply because he can. I can hardly see how he benefits, and he refuses to tell me otherwise.”

“That certainly sounds like him. Always keeping his cards close to his–” Charlotte suddenly froze, her eyes locked onto Thalia. “Wait… what did you say?”

Thalia blinked, uncertain as to what the young woman could mean.

“Why would Gabriel expect anything from you?” Charlotte asked. “If anything, he should do it purely out of courtship. I mean, he’s your suitor, for goodness sake, and I would hardly think he’d expect something from someone he…” her sentence trailed off, realization settling across her face.

“Charlotte, w-wait–” Thalia let out a pained hiss, having jabbed her needle into her finger absentmindedly. A drop of blood pooled against her pointer finger, and she watched as crimson blots stained the gown she’d been working on.

“Oh, g-gracious—let me get you a linen, Lady Thalia!” Madeline halfway towards the door, clearly desperate for any excuse to leave. The room fell silent afterwards, anxiety tying knots in Thalia’s stomach as Charlotte’s rage visibly built.

“Charlotte,” Thalia began.

“My brother isn’t actually courting you,” Charlotte hissed. “Is he?”

Thalia couldn’t find the words to reply.