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Evie swallowed and licked her lips again in agitation. “The issue is that I don’t just want you. I love you. And after we do spend the night together, you might easily lose interest in me, but I shan’t. I shan’t want to ever let you go.”
“Then don’t.” Gabriel stalked toward her and took her by the arms. “I am here,” he said hoarsely. “I am not going any place. I want you as my wife, Evie. I already broke my associations with other women as soon as we reached London, if that’s what you’re worried about. I am not going to break your heart.”
Evie noted that he didn’t rebuff her claim that he might lose interest in her. She also noted that he didn’t say he loved her back. “That’s not all I am worried about.”
“Then tell me. What are your conditions? Because I am willing to prove my regard for you.”
My regard. Evie’s heart constricted at the words, and tears burned at the back of her eyes. She took a deep breath, but it still didn’t seem enough. She took another one. “There’s only one way, only one condition under which I shall relent.”
“Name it.” He was so certain he could provide anything that her heart gave a slight pang.
“Tell me you love me,” she finally pushed out past her dry throat.
A long pause followed. Gabriel seemed to freeze in place, his hands still on Evie’s arms, his lips slightly parted, his eyes frantic. Evie smiled sadly and disengaged herself from his grasp.
“Evie,” he finally croaked.
Evie just shook her head, walked to the bed, and propped herself on the edge.
“I am certain I’m not capable of it, Evie. You know me too well; you know how I am.”
“I do,” she said quietly. She lowered her head and stared down at her hands. Another long pause followed. Then Gabriel cursed and stalked out of the room.
Tears streamed down Evie’s face, and she couldn’t hold them in any longer. Of course, he didn’t love her. She’d known that, hadn’t she? Then why in her heart of hearts was she still holding out hope that he’d tell her? She collapsed onto the bed, her breath escaping on a strangled sob.
* * *
Gabriel looked across the carriage at his beautiful wife. She sat, looking out the window gloomily, a ginger root in her hands. It didn’t seem to help with her nausea, but she appeared to be quite attached to it.
Ever since the night of Evie’s confession, the relationship between them had chilled. She still smiled and jested with people around her as if she didn’t have a care in the world. As if she hadn’t spent the entire night sobbing into a pillow. Because of him. He hadn’t managed to sleep well that night or any night after that. He was sleep-deprived and irritable, and the fact that Evie pretended nothing had happened didn’t help his mood.
She spent the rest of the house party in the company of her friends or talking amicably with old matrons, successfully avoiding Gabriel or any other gentleman in the house. The only man she didn’t seem to evade was his father, the Earl of Winchester. In fact, she spent most mornings in his study, going over the ledgers and discussing business. As much as Gabriel disliked his father, he gladly took that opportunity to be closer to his wife and joined in on the morning sessions.
He loved Evie’s quick mind and how she easily picked up on the intricacies of running the estates. He marveled at her ability to come up with creative solutions to mundane issues. And he was befuddled by the care she put into her every decision.
As revealing those meetings were of Evie’s heart and mind, they were even more revealing of Gabriel’s ignorance. He quickly learned how little he understood the work that went into owning an estate. If the earl died tomorrow and Gabriel inherited the title, would he be a better landowner than the cursed Montbrook or Bingham? Or would he become the wastrel everyone thought him to be?
Evie turned to him at that moment, gave him a polite smile, and averted her gaze once more. Outwardly, she hadn’t changed her behavior toward him. She still smiled at him, talked to him, and even laughed at his lewd jokes. By all appearances, she was still the happy bride she had been during their wedding ball. But he knew better. She had put a wall of ice between them.
Gabriel didn’t try to break through it, at least not yet. He knew he needed to give her more time and perhaps space. However, the thought of leaving her in Peacehaven while he went back to London made his chest burn unpleasantly. How was he to convince her that being intimate with him was better than being apart?
She said she loved him, but she was ready to leave him without a second thought.
She loves me.Gabriel couldn’t believe it. Surely, she was mistaken. Nobody had ever loved him before. Not his parents, his lovers, nor his friends. They tolerated him; some admired him, and most hated him. Loved him, though? He’d never known what it felt like. And perhaps he would never find out. Not unless he persuaded his wife to stay with him.
She demanded the same from him as what she offered. But how could he? With the soul so rotten, he didn’t know the meaning of love. What did it mean to love somebody?
He might not love her, but he couldn’t imagine his life without her, either.
Evie turned to him again and scrunched up her nose. “Do you smell that?”
The scent of smoke hit Gabriel hard, and he stiffened in his seat. “Is it a bonfire festival? Or are your tenants burning the hay?”
Evie craned her neck out of the window. “I don’t see anything.”
As they neared their destination, the scent became more and more prominent. Once they rounded the hill, they were finally treated to a horrifying view. Peacehaven was on fire.
Evie plastered herself to the window, her eyes wide. “Peacehaven,” she whispered.
