Page 10 of Never Love a Duke

“He should have accepted his responsibilities and acted honorably toward his fellow man.”

Properly chastised, Mr. Linton hung his head.

“He’s been a good citizen for as long as he’s been here. So he’s made one—erm…three small-ish mistakes. He couldn’t have possibly known the full outcome of his actions.”

“He should have thought about that and not acted impulsively.”

“No one can predict everything about the future.”

“One doesn’t have to predict every possible outcome, just the likeliest ones and their associated risks.”

“People can’t live life in fear of all the risks that might follow every action.”

“They need only fear the most probable and impactful risks.”

“And you would always know what those are?”

“Of course. And if I don’t, I find someone who would know.”

“And you think you know enough people to know all that there is to know—”

“Ahem—” Mr. Linton cleared his throat. “I accept responsibility for my actions. I knew they were wrong. I’ll accept whatever punishment the town doles out to me. And I’ll give my store to Lady Violet, free of charge. She will do a far better job of running than I ever did.” Then he gestured toward his plate. “I think I’m ready to eat now. I must admit, confession is good for the soul. And the appetite. I’m eternally grateful for you two.”

That was a dismissal if there ever was one.

So the two found themselves in the corridor, backs against either wall, facing each other.

“You look like you empathize with the man?” Gabriel couldn’t help prodding her.

“I do. Only a desperate man would self-sabotage like that.”

He didn’t know why he said it, but the words needed an outlet. “Everyone self-sabotages. Until they learn to overcome their fear of success.”

They were heavy words, just sinking into the air, permeating every inch, until Mirabelle finally spoke. “Do you?”

It took a moment for him to properly apply her question. And though he didn’t want to admit any more to her, he found himself confessing all the same. “Everyone does, including me.”

But before she could respond with any empathy, which he hadn’t earlier attributed to her but now did since the explosion, he cut her off. “Your ankle,” he pointed, “is the size of a grapefruit. What the blazes are you doing putting any pressure on it?”

“I’m fi—”

“You’re not. You’re going to do irreparable harm to yourself.” An immense rush of protectiveness fell over him needing to see her safe and well. And it needed to be him to do it. “Hush now. Which room are you staying in?”

Reluctantly she pointed out the way until he pushed open her door and plunked her down on the mattress.

“Don’t move,” he commanded, completely unsure of what he was about to do with her, alone in her room, now that she’d severely threatened every notion he had held of her.

Blasted. This was a terrible idea. But she needed someone to stop her from further hurting herself. And he was just the right someone to do that.

Chapter 7

“You’re still here?” The bewildered question announced Gabriel’s reentrance into the room.

“You seem surprised.” Though not half as surprised as she was at herself. She could have left. Should have left. Would have left.

Had she not wanted to be with him.

It was like her body craved his presence, and she did not have the will to fight it.