Page 9 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke (Duke Wars #2)

CHAPTER 9

T he afternoon wove seamlessly into dinner, with only the Suttons remaining at Stonewell manor. Louise had long-since excused herself back to her own home, and Gabriel couldn’t help but feel some relief in the matter.

It would be difficult enough to eat in a composed manner with Thalia directly to his right. The fewer folk he had to mask in front of, the better, especially with Charlotte being immediately up to her old antics.

“Did you end up having a bath, Thalia?” Charlotte asked, her fork having long-since abandoned the remainder of her slice of spinach pie.

Thalia appeared startled, looking up from her own plate quickly and… rather flushed. Almost as if lost in a particularly indecent thought, one perpetrated mere hours ago. “O-oh! Um, yes, I did. Thank you again for the suggestion, Lady Char—ah, Charlotte.”

Gabriel eyed his sister, who looked as pleased as a fox in the henhouse. “I saw my brother went to your room as well. Tell me, did he… help you choose a scent?”

Thalia’s face brightened considerably. As much as Gabriel enjoyed seeing her squirm, he’d rather not be dragged into his sister’s machinations.

“She had a few things to still unpack, dear sister of mine. I was doing my job as host and offering a hand.”

The conversation needed to steer away from Charlotte’s fixation, and so Gabriel added off-handedly, “how has your latest artistic endeavor gone, Charlotte?”

Thalia immediately latched onto the change in subject. “Oh! Are you a creative soul, Charlotte?”

Charlotte beamed, plucking her wine glass off the table as she gave the contents a swirl. “I like to consider myself as one, yes! Though, I tend to race around different interests—like, this week I’ve taken to really learning embroidery, but last week, I really had a desire to become a professional pianist.”

Gabriel winced inwardly, the memories of off-key practice ringing fresh in his mind. Thank goodness that interest hadn’t lasted as long as the others.

“Why, there was an entire month I dedicated myself to being the next Sir Francis Chantrey!” Charlotte grimaced, adding after the fact, “I’m… pretty certain the west wing is still coated in a fine layer of pottery dust. But I know for a fact there’s still some of my first few attempts at sculpting around there.”

“Oh, there certainly are,” Gabriel interjected. “I made sure of that.”

Charlotte groaned, falling back into her chair with a whine to her tone. “Oh, they’re positively horrid, Thalia! I tried to make a bust of my brother, and he looks like a frog!”

“A frog?”

“Wide eyes, puffed out cheeks—ooh, I know he’s hidden it away somewhere, and he won’t tell me where it is.” Charlotte’s arms crossed tightly, and she let out a dramatic huff. “One of these days, I’m going to dedicate an entire day—no, a week!—to searching the whole of the manor.”

Thalia tried to cover her laughter with the back of her hand, but failed spectacularly. Gabriel certainly didn’t mind; her laughter was still the greatest sound to his ears. He found himself paying close attention to the dimples of her cheeks, the way her forehead crinkled the wider her smile grew.

“Oh, Robin,” Charlotte suddenly gasped. “I’ve completely neglected you as a hostess! Here I am, going on about myself, and you've been left with only the company of your plate.”

Gabriel’s attention swerved, taking note of the hunched-over young man devouring his fourth helping of sauteed salmon. He swallowed quickly, at least having the courtesy to wipe his mouth before addressing his sister. “That’s quite alright, Lady Charlotte—I’m perfectly content keeping to myself.”

“Certainly not. I would bet my brother didn’t even show you your room during your men’s talk.” Charlotte pushed herself free of her chair, rounding the table and looping her arm through Robin’s. “Gabriel, keep Thalia company, won’t you? I’ll show Robin his room—oh, and maybe we’ll come across one of my horrible vases along the way. It really is a sight to see, Robin, you’ll get a fantastic laugh out of it.”

“It’s considered rude not to let a guest finish what’s on their plate,” Gabriel began.

“Ooh, he doesn’t mind!” Charlotte insisted. “Do you, Robin?”

Robin looked quite disappointed to be leaving the large table of food, though obliged nonetheless. Charlotte’s chattering continued well after the pair had left the dining hall, and Gabriel resisted the urge to groan as it persisted into the depths of the manor. But, much to his delight, Thalia’s laughter quickly filled the space between them.

“And what, pray tell, is so humorous?” he asked.

Thalia quickly took a sip of water, working to calm herself. “Your sister—she certainly isn’t subtle with her attempts, is she?”

It took him a moment, but realization struck Gabriel there and then. Now the groan came willingly, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “And here I thought she was simply being an eager hostess.”

Again, Thalia chuckled lightly. “Poor Robin; I’ll have to make sure they don’t clear his plate.”

“I apologize if she?—”

“No, really. He’ll manage just fine, I’m sure. Besides, I think it’s very sweet, how eagerly she cares for your future happiness.” Thalia’s attention returned to her plate, fork prodding against her own slice of salmon. An uneasy silence hung between them, and for a moment, Gabriel wondered if he should simply bring up their kiss.

He had thoroughly enjoyed the spontaneity of it all, not daring to believe Thalia would have ever gone along with him. There was something utterly attractive about someone so willingly to go with the motions and he hardly wanted to scare her off by bringing up the topic too soon.

Instead, he turned his attention to his own plate of fish, digging free a forkful of mushrooms before taking a bite.

“So…” Thalia glanced up, seemingly desperate for conversation as well. “Did this fish come from a farm, your Grace?”

It stung Gabriel to hear her still refer to him so properly, or to bring up conversation one might with a passing stranger. Charlotte had so easily convinced Thalia to be casual around her; he would have to ask his sister for her secrets.

He swallowed hard, doing his best to keep his tone neutral and as uninterested as Thalia seemed. “There’s a few lakes and rivers around the property I like to keep stocked with fish. It’s very likely that this was freshly caught today.”

“Really?”

Gabriel’s attention perked; for a topic so mundane, Thalia suddenly sounded intrigued. “Is that so unusual, Miss Sutton?”

Thalia shook her head. “I would have never thought to do that back at Oslay Hall. That would explain the taste—and the herbs? They don’t look like the typical arrangement one might find in a kitchen, and these mushrooms aren’t the common white ones I might use in stew.”

“That’s because they’re all wild,” Gabriel explained.

“All picked on the property as well?”

Gabriel nodded. “My sister may enjoy the organized look of a garden, but I find myself needing something more… untouched by mankind.” He set his fork down, reaching for his glass of wine as he tilted it Thalia’s way. “I sometimes find myself taking a satchel and foraging for what the forest has to offer.”

Thalia looked entirely enamored; it was as if the concept of living directly off the land had never occurred to her. “You mean to tell me you go out and pluck whatever you find in the forest to eat?”

Oh, but her naivety was a delight to behold. “Certainly not. There is plenty in nature that would kill a person.” Gabriel took a sip of his wine, enjoying her attention thoroughly.

Perhaps his sister had the right idea after all; not that he would ever let her hear of it. “I have been taught what is safe and what isn’t, Miss Sutton, and I would strongly advise anyone against eating whatever they happen to come across in nature.”

Thalia offered a bashful smile in return, suddenly very interested in her plate. For a moment, Gabriel sincerely regretted how demeaning his tone might’ve sounded, the exact wording he had chosen that very well may have come off as overly patronizing. Then, he stopped himself, realizing how strange it felt to genuinely worry about how anyone, a woman especially, took his words.

Even more so, it was strange to feel relieved when, instead of being upset, Thalia only seemed further interested in the topic. She scooped a forkful of mushrooms and herbs from her plate, holding it aloft for Gabriel to see. “Then, you found these in the forest?”

“Very likely, yes.”

The sudden excitement in Thalia’s being was infectious; her eyes lit up like glimmering emeralds, and the tone of her voice tickled Gabriel in all the best ways.

“Oh, it must be such a useful skill, to feed oneself from nature! Why, imagine if the people of Whitechapel all knew how to find food this way, or if I could teach classes to children in need of such skills? There would be no need for them to steal to survive, and perhaps they could use the skills to find work.” Thalia’s voice caught, and she quickly looked away.

“Why did you stop?” Gabriel asked.

Thalia’s gaze remained downcast, her splinted wrist pressed against her chest. “N-no… it’s nothing. Forgive me, your Grace—I hadn’t meant to go on as I did.”

A spark of rage began to billow in Gabriel’s chest, and he wanted nothing more than to take it out on that bastard, Giles Tilbury. Instead, he channeled it into an approachable warmth, rising from his chair and crossing to meet Thalia.

Her shoulders visibly stiffened, then somewhat relaxed as he knelt to try and meet her gaze. And, when that failed to pull her attention, Gabriel’s hand gently settled beneath her chin, tilting it just enough for their eyes to meet. “Do not ever feel the need to hide yourself from me, Miss Sutton.”

Her eyes briefly grew misty, and she blinked furiously.

“After all,” Gabriel added with a slight smirk. “I’ve already captured you once, little rabbit. One could say your ability to hide is subpar, at best.”

Thalia’s brow furrowed, and she managed a weak laugh. “Perhaps so, but at least I do not tell fibs, Your Grace. You have yet to properly catch me—you ran out of time, if memory serves.”

God above, but he was thoroughly enjoying the tongue on his prey.

Gingerly, Thalia pulled away and rose from her chair, and the way she stood over him sent pleasurable shivers down Gabriel’s spine. “I… think I’d like to retire to my room, if that’s all right.”

Before Gabriel could be too disappointed with the end of their conversation, she shyly offered her hand. “Could you… perhaps… escort me, Your Grace?” Hesitancy quickly filled her expression, and Gabriel moved to quell it as quickly as possible. He immediately grasped her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckle, looping his arm around her and pulling her to his side.

“I would be delighted to do so, Miss Sutton.”