Horror and sympathy swirled inside of Gabriel. He watched as she fought to keep her hurt inside.
“Excuse me,” she murmured to Gabriel before racing off toward the keep.
“Eve!” Gabriel called. He instinctively moved to go after her, but Michael stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“I want you to leave.”
Gabriel jerked away from his brother’s hand and whirled on him, just as angry as he was. “How can you be so callous?”
“Find an angel with another woman. This one is mine,” Michael warned.
“Are you certain?” Gabriel couldn’t help but taunt.
Michael’s eyes widened in fury and he glared hot rage at him, anger snarling his lips.
“Be careful of your answer, brother. It might be a lie.” Gabriel shoved by him, knocking into his shoulder as he led the palfrey to the stables. His fist was tight with fury around the reins. Not that his brother dared to threaten him, but it was the way he treated Eve. She deserved better. It should be him, he thought. But he quickly pushed the thought aside. He hadn’t fought for her when it had first happened, he had no right to her now. Michael was his blood, after all. And with the approaching Yuletide and the preparations for the wedding, Gabe felt misplaced. He rounded the corner of the stables to find Henry leaning against the wall.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” Henry greeted.
Gabriel walked by him, leading the palfrey to her stall. A stable boy quickly rushed over and took the reins from him to lead her away.
“I’ve seen that look before.”
There were times that Henry was more of a pain than a friend. Gabriel left the stables and Henry followed.
“But mostly the man ended up on the ground after one of your blows.”
“He’s my brother. What would you have me do?”
“Leave. He asked you to leave.”
“We’re not here because of his invitation. It turns out Lady Eve invited us,” he called over his shoulder.
“If we’re not leaving, how are you going to hide your jealousy?”
“I’m not jealous,” Gabriel insisted, whirling on him. He looked around quickly to see if others had heard. The blacksmith wiped a hand across his forehead in his shop, but he did not look up. “I’m not jealous,” he repeated in a softer voice. “The way he treats Eve is no way to treat your future wife.”
“How would you know? You have no wife.”
“It’s no way to treat any lady!” Gabriel shook his head. “You’re her friend. Am I wrong? Does he treat her with disrespect?”
Henry inhaled. “As her future husband, it is his right to treat her any way he likes.”
Gabriel ground his teeth and shook his head.
Henry put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “You’re going to have to come to terms with it or do something about it.”
“What would you have me do?”
“That’s not for me to decide.”
Gabriel cursed silently. “There’s nothing I can do.”
Eve sat in her chambers near the hearth, staring down at her one good hand. The flames of the hearth did not warm her soul or ease the guilt of Michael’s words. Why had Michael said that? Did he want to remind her of Eden’s death? Did he want to remind her that they all thought it was her fault?
A knock came at her door.
Her lady’s maid, Mary, a small, thin young woman with brown hair, rose from her seat opposite of Eve where she was stitching one of Eve’s dresses, and opened the door. She looked back at Eve and announced quietly, “It’s Lord Michael.”
