Page 50 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

Thalia exhaled, clearly still nervous to ask. But she did so anyway; another aspect he was growing to adore about her.

“From the beginning of our arrangement, it was very clear that I benefitted more than you. Even more so, now with your charitable aid to Mr. Cooke.” She glanced at her lap, then rose her gaze to meet him, those emerald eyes iridescent beneath the moonlight. “You even allowed my brother to come with me; a very generous offer, but not one you had to propose.”

Gabriel shrugged lightly. “I did not think it proper to leave him in Whitechapel. You would spend your days at Stonewell fretting over him.”

“I… would, yes,” Thalia admitted. “But you still didn’t have to do that. And, I admit, when I first arrived here, I had expected to play this grand role of infatuation. That I would be paraded about in public to showcase your interest in me, that I would need to fully convince your sister that I was in love with you.”

“Charlotte would believe you regardless,” Gabriel said. “The convincing was mostly on my end.”

“But certainly, more frequent social outings would solidify the ruse, and my end of the bargain would be more properly paid for?”

This was true, and it had been something Gabriel considered. He leaned back in his chair, taking his cup once more before giving it a long, considerable sip. “Did you wish to be paraded about, Thalia?”

The question gave her pause.

“Or did you wish to play the part of a lovesick fool to my sister, or to your old social group?” Gabriel set his cup down, giving her a long, careful look. “Did you hope to convince Giles, perhaps, that the terrifying Duke of Stonewell was pining after you?”

Her face blanched slightly. “I wouldn’t use you in such a way, Gabriel.”

She was being truthful. Painfully honest; if there was even a slight chance that Gabriel’s reputation would be affected by a decision on her part, Thalia would sooner put up with the consequences of her non-action. He shook his head, offering her a rare smile of warmth.

“So serious with your reply, Miss Sutton.”

“Thalia,” she corrected, managing a small, bashful grin of her own.

“Yes… Thalia.” Gabriel stood from his chair and rounded the table, getting down on one knee to fully face Thalia eye-to-eye. Gently, he extended his hand, and was delighted when she took it. “You have shown great courage and trust in me, Thalia, and I have kept many secrets from you. The very least I can do is grant you your own autonomy.”

Thalia chuckled weakly,

“It’s funny… when I first met you during Orion’s Hunt, your speech had a similar feeling to it.” She squeezed his hand light, a more genuine smile crossing her face. “I had thought your talk of a woman’s choice was merely for show, but… you’re not as unapproachable as you seem, Gabriel.”

He wasn’t. That thought scared him, the realization that, regardless of his pledge to his father, Gabriel Harding allowed himself this minor vulnerability.

“Do… do you mind if I give you a kiss?” Thalia whispered.

A brief squirm of guilt settled into Gabriel’s stomach at her. She truly trusted him with everything. And he had kept her in the dark, willingly used her brother to his own end. Gently, he lifted her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles. “Ask me again when you are not so wounded, little rabbit. After all, I prefer my prey to be healthy when I take them for a hunt.”

CHAPTER23

Thalia’s third day at Stonewell Manor had started earlier than anyone anticipated, and thus, the rest of her time was dedicated to staying on the grounds. Charlotte had insisted heavily upon doing so, and in his own way, Gabriel (it seemed so strange, referring to him as such) seemed more than willing to accommodate.

Whatever activity Thalia even briefly brought up, he immediately ensured it happened. Painting in the garden, an easy horseback ride around the mansion proper—if she wanted to swim about the fountain near the front of the manor, she was certain he’d allow her to do so. Her only source of anxiety was her brother, or a lack thereof; Robin had been entirely absent since yesterday.

“Your brother?” Gabriel pondered for a moment, rolling a freshly-picked strawberry between his fingers. “He mentioned going to Whitechapel to ‘check in on things’. I assumed you would know what that meant.”

Thalia frowned, having barely touched her own bowl of fruit. Something about his tone, the way his posture stiffened—it set her entirely on-edge.

She tried to distract herself with Charlotte’s antics, noting her empty berry basket and her body stretched across their blanket like a cat lazing in the sun. She only wished she could be so relaxed.

“I’m sure he’s just roughing it with his friends.” Charlotte practically purred, stretching an arm out as she plucked another strawberry straight off the bush. “You mentioned he had quite the loyal crew back in Whitechapel—I’d be worried myself, if I hadn’t seen them in a few days.”

That sounded at least a touch more reasonable. Still, Thalia couldn’t help but cast her eyes Gabriel’s way, unease skittering across her skin.

“Gracious, but these are divine!” Charlotte wiped her red-stained face with the back of her arm, eliciting a slight groan from her brother. “I wish Louise was here—she had such a terrible craving last we chatted. Oh, and Madeline is a genius with strawberries—Thalia, you would never taste another strawberry tart the same!”

“Maybe we could fill our baskets again and bring some to them?” Thalia proposed.

The Harding siblings immediately sat to attention, exchanging worried looks between them.

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