Page 49 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

“Let go, Gabriel!” Thalia shoved her trembling arms against him, mind suddenly light and drifting. “I—I need to… it’s my fault he’s?—”

“Thalia, take a deep breath.”

Her face flushed, furious that her own advice was being used against her. “Gabriel, please?” But he kept his grip firm—not enough to hurt her, but enough to make his point. With a sigh, Thalia inhaled and exhaled sharply, trying once more to wiggle free.

“Thalia.”

It was an unspoken command, gentle, but unwavering in its intent. Thalia sighed heavily, then found her breath hitching painfully in her chest. She blinked furiously, the first few drops of tears streaming down her face well-outside of her control.

“Someone reminded my sister that her emotions are nothing to be afraid of,” Gabriel said softly. “I would hope that someone took her own lessons to heart.”

Thalia’s arms worked free to grasp Gabriel’s waist, and she took another, far deeper breath. She held on for dear life as everything rushed to the forefront—exhaustion, terror, resentment, shame—and she found her legs too weak to support her, allowing Gabriel to hold her in its place.

“Charlotte, go let the kitchen know we need a tray made up,” he said softly.

Thalia hardly saw the door open and close behind Charlotte; she held far too fast to Gabriel, trying desperately to remember how to breathe. All the while, he stayed there, holding her upright, ensuring she wouldn’t collapse under the weight of it all.

* * *

He couldn’t help but stare as Thalia gingerly took another sip of chamomile. Thalia. Yes, he was back to a first-name basis with her, after having so boldly proclaimed to himself to put distance between them.

But Gabriel found he couldn’t help himself, especially after his interaction with Giles. And he’d spent enough time waiting for her to recover, so now both he and Thalia took to the gardens, seated beneath the gazebo as the night sky shimmered with astral wonder.

The tea table held a small pot and platter of dinner leftovers, though Thalia seemed only keen to nibble on some bread. Not that Gabriel would push the subject; the mere fact she was willing to eat anything was good enough for now.

“And you’re certain that’s what Giles said to you?” he asked.

Thalia nodded, setting her cup back against its saucer. “It was never explicitly stated, but… I wouldn’t put it past Giles to fire someone I cared dearly for.” Her teacup trembled, hands rushing to her lap as she no doubt clutched them tightly. “Poor Mr. Cooke… it’s unlikely he’d get a proper letter of recommendation, either. I don’t know how he’s going to survive—his wife passed away years ago, and his children are scattered across England.”

“Remind yourself that Mr. Cooke’s misfortune rests solely in Giles’ hands,” Gabriel remarked.

“B-But he openly treated me with kindness,” Thalia argued. “Even after everything, and knowing full well that would create enemies.”

“That only cements him as a man I’d like to keep around.” Gabriel reached for his own cup, swirling the contents and watching curls of steam filter into the air.

“Worry not for him any further; you’ve already given me his address, and though I have no need for another butler, he is welcome to the small cabin farther out on the property line. That will at least expel his concerns for property tax.”

Thalia remained uneasy in appearance, staring at her hands as if they would come to life and bite her. Gabriel sat back against his chair, wrestling with what he wanted to say next. Everything felt too obvious, too patronizing, and he found himself well and truly stuck.

That was, until his little rabbit spoke up first, much to his surprise. “Would it be alright if I asked you something, Your Grace?”

He smiled, setting his cup down as his hands folded against the table. “No ‘Gabriel’ this time?”

Even in the dim, Thalia’s face blushed brightly.

“It’s quite alright,” Gabriel reassured. “I’m… pleased that you see me as being so approachable. If it does not cause you unease, I would ask you to continue using my name.”

Thalia nodded slowly. “Alright… Gabriel.”

Music to his ears.

“Then, you should refer to me as ‘Thalia’, consistently, from here on out,” she insisted. “Unless you find me unapproachable?”

Gabriel chuckled now; it was quite the opposite, in fact.

“No, I do not find you unapproachable… Thalia.” Her name tingled against his tongue, finally used in a context where emotions weren’t at their absolute pinnacle. It felt as if he’d passed a barrier held between them, one he’d been so insistent on keeping. Still keeping; she made it so easy for him to lower his guard.

“What is your question?”

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