John knew better than anyone what those losses had cost him. The physician had stood beside him through his brother’s funeral. He had witnessed moments when grief threatened to consume him.
“You could not have saved them,” John said gently.
Gabriel hated hearing that. Not because it was false, but because it was true. He had spent years solving problems. Building estates. Managing tenants. Commanding hundreds of people. Yet when death arrived, he had been powerless. Powerless to save his mother from his own father. Powerless to save Benedict.
His hand tightened around the edge of the mantel. The wound beneath the bandages throbbed.
Good. Pain is easier than grief.
John studied him carefully. “You blame yourself less than you did.”
Gabriel gave a short laugh. “What a glowing recommendation.”
For a few moments, neither man spoke. The fire crackled softly. Wind rattled the windows. The woman remained motionless. Gabriel found himself looking at her again.
Who is she? Why had she been traveling alone? What kind of family allowed a young woman to wander isolated roads without a chaperone?
The questions multiplied. He disliked unanswered questions almost as much as he disliked helplessness.
John noticed the direction of his gaze. “There you are again.”
Gabriel sighed. “There I am where?”
“Looking at her,” John said as he arched a brow and leaned against the wall. Gabriel gave him an annoyed look, which usually frightened most away, but not John. John was stronger than that.
“I am merely wondering who she is,” Gabriel admitted. The woman suddenly shifted slightly beneath the blankets. Both men froze. The movement had been small. Very small. Yet unmistakable. Gabriel straightened immediately. John moved toward the bedside.
The woman’s fingers twitched. A faint crease appeared between her brows. For the first time, genuine anticipation filled the room. John leaned forward.
“Well,” he said quietly, “It appears our mystery guest may finally decide to join us.”
Gabriel stared at the unconscious woman. For reasons he could not explain, his pulse quickened. And for the first time since bringing her to Anderton Manor, he found himself eager to hear her speak.
She shifted once more beneath the blankets before becoming still again. John watched her for another moment before straightening from the bedside. “We should let the unknown lady rest,” he said quietly. “Staring at her will not make her wake any faster.”
Gabriel grunted in response. He knew John was correct, which only made the advice more irritating. Without another word, Gabriel turned and strode from the room. John followed him through the silent corridor. The manor was unusually quiet for such a large house. Since Benedict’s death and the arrival of the children, Anderton Manor had become something neither entirely lively nor entirely lonely. It occupied an uncomfortable space somewhere in between.
They entered Gabriel’s study a few minutes later. The room was lined with dark bookshelves and heavy furniture that matched its owner’s severe disposition. A fire burned low in the hearth. Gabriel crossed directly to the sideboard and poured two glasses of brandy. He handed one to John before taking a long swallow from his own.
John settled into a leather chair. “Now then,” he said, studying Gabriel over the rim of his glass. “How do you intend to deal with this situation?”
Gabriel remained standing. “What situation?”
John stared at him. “The unconscious woman sleeping upstairs in your guest room.”
Gabriel shrugged. “She wakes. We discover who she is. The matter resolves itself.”
John gave him a look of disbelief. “That is not a plan.”
Gabriel frowned. “It is perfectly adequate.”
“No,” John replied. “It is waiting for a plan to appear.”
Gabriel resisted the urge to throw something at him. He had known John long enough to recognize when he was being deliberately provoking.
“The woman is clearly not a commoner,” John continued. He leaned forward slightly. “Her gown alone was worth more than most laborers earn in a year. Someone is undoubtedly searching for her already.”
Gabriel took another drink. “Perhaps.”
