Amelia paced the length of her bedchamber for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. Moonlight spilled through the curtains and stretched silver across the carpet while the fire crackled softly in the grate. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Gabriel again, standing beside the broken carriage with splintered wood around him and concern written plainly across his face. The memory ought to have comforted her. Instead, it left her hopelessly flustered.
She stopped beside the window and pressed her hands against her cheeks.
“It was not that big of a moment,” she muttered aloud. “He rescued me from a carriage, not a dragon.”
Unfortunately, the distinction did very little to calm her racing thoughts. Gabriel had looked genuinely frightened when he thought she might be hurt. Worse still…
I liked it.
With a groan, Amelia resumed pacing.
“What happens in a week?” she asked the empty room. “Has anyone thought about that?” She pointed accusingly at the fireplace as though it were somehow responsible.
“David certainly has not for he is not aware. Valerie has not. Gabriel refuses to discuss it.” Her stomach tightened as the reality settled over her once more.
The one-month arrangement was nearly finished. She slowed beside the hearth and sank into a chair. “I shall have to leave,” she whispered. The words sounded wrong.
For the first time since arriving at Anderton Manor, Amelia truly considered what awaited her beyond its walls.
I could return home, certainly, but what then? My parents might no longer intend for me to marry after causing such a scandal, yet that hardly guarantees freedom. Another carefully planned future I have not chosen.
“I have nowhere to go,” she admitted softly. The realization unsettled her far more than it should have.
Could I join Bethany and her new husband after all that has happened? Does she hate me for what I have done to her?
A sharp knock sounded at the door.
Amelia jumped so violently that she nearly knocked over a side table. “Come in,” she called, smoothing her hair and trying to appear as though she had not been arguing with furniture moments earlier. The door opened, and her breath caught. Gabriel stood in the doorway holding a silver tray with a teapot and two cups balanced upon it.
For several seconds, she simply stared.
Gabriel shifted his weight slightly.
“Are you planning to invite me inside, or shall I continue standing in the corridor holding tea?” he asked dryly.
Amelia blinked. “You brought tea.”
He lifted one dark eyebrow. “An excellent observation, Miss Shirley.”
She nodded at once. Gabriel entered the room and crossed towards the sitting area.
“I brought it because you have been pacing for nearly three hours,” he said as he set the tray on the table. “The floorboards have informed me of your activities in considerable detail.”
Amelia felt heat creep into her cheeks. “You were listening?”
“The entire corridor was listening.”
Despite herself, she laughed. “You might have simply knocked sooner.”
Gabriel glanced at her. “And interrupt such a determined campaign against the carpet?” he asked. “I would not dare.”
How much has he heard?
Amelia pressed her lips together to hide a smile while he poured tea into both cups with steady hands. The domesticity of the gesture felt oddly intimate. Dukes were not supposed to bring tea to anxious governesses in the middle of the night.
He handed her a cup, and their fingers brushed briefly, causing Amelia’s pulse to betray her.
Gabriel seemed unaffected as he glanced towards the hearth. “Your fire is dying,” he observed.
