Page 57 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

“I’m sorry! I’ll remain cordial,” Christian begged. “I just—give me a moment. That wasn’t—I don’t think I was quite ready for that.”

Somehow, that felt far worse than if he’d simply laughed at Gabriel. He watched impatiently as his friend gathered his own thoughts, grabbing his cup and taking a long, pondering sip. This had been a terrible idea; he should have just gone to the warehouse, thrown a few punches and lost himself in the rush of violence.

Hell, he’d rather be back in his room as a boy, watching as his father completely broke down in front of him. A cold shudder ran up his spine, and Gabriel took another swig directly from the bottle.

“I think…” Christian began, a note of hesitancy in his voice. “Honestly, I wasn’t so certain until what felt like the very last minute. I’d only known Louise for a few days—and you know very well it was nothing like a love match at first. A mere marriage of convenience… It seemed ridiculous, thinking I could grow to adore someone in such a short time.” He stared wistfully at his scotch glass, giving the contents another swirl before taking a short sip. “When I watched her father strike at her… I don’t know.”

“Something snapped,” Gabriel said.

Christian shook his head. “That’s not entirely right. I’ve been angry before—I’ve beaten men for less of a reason—but seeing Louise so willingly throw herself into danger…” He sighed, finishing his own glass before setting it against the arm of his chair. “It felt…primal. An uncontrollable urge to ensure nothing and no one would hurt her again. Not as long as I was alive, at least.”

Gabriel nodded, feeling as if the veil over his mind had somewhat lifted. “I’m certain you’ve heard of yesterday’s incident in town?”

“With the little marquess?” Christian chuckled darkly, hand squeezing tightly around his glass. “I’m amazed you didn’t kill him, honestly.”

“You can thank Charlotte for my lack of action,” Gabriel said.

“She really is growing into a terrifying beast of her own,” Christian laughed.

She was, indeed.

“But, back to the subject at hand…” Christian leaned across the table, glass tilted towards Gabriel. He relented, pouring his friend another before taking a shot himself.

Christian made a slight face, but chose to continue on with his sentence instead of chastising the man. “I think I fully realized it at that moment. When the thought of any harm coming to Louise was worse than anything I could imagine. And you know me,” he offered with a wink. “I can be quite inventive when it comes to torture.”

Gabriel let out a frustrated hiss, setting the bottle back onto the table before leaning back into his own chair. “This isn’t as helpful as you think it is.”

“You’re the one who posed the question,” Christian pointed out. “And, I think it’s unhelpful because you already knew the answer, Gabriel.” He frowned, shifting in his seat before knocking back his entire cup. “What exactly happened between you and Miss Sutton?”

An irritable growl escaped Gabriel’s throat. “She finds me as repugnant as her cousin. A deviant only looking out for his best interests.”

“Were those her exact words?” Christian asked.

“What do the particulars of the incident matter?” Gabriel snapped.

Christian sighed, setting his cup against the table once more. “I know I sound pedantic, Gabriel, but these sorts of matters need careful consideration. I nearly made the same mistake, internalizing and demonizing the words spoken by Louise.”

“Nothing’s been internalized,” Gabriel argued. “To do so would mean I have some emotional regard for Thalia.”

Christian's brow furrowed.

“And I do not.”

Christian’s brow furrowed further.

“And your persistence in this matter will send you home in a matchbox, you obnoxious snoop.”

Christian sighed louder than before, leaning back in his chair before kicking his feet up onto the glass tabletop. “See, that’s your problem, Gabriel. You want it both ways; to come off as cold and uncaring, yet showcase a level of intimacy that will invite women to stay by your side.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I’m hardly interested in keeping any woman by my side.”

“You’re right,” Christian agreed, a somber note edging into his tone. “You’re interested in one particular woman.”

The scotch now burned terribly in his stomach; Gabriel wished now more than ever he’d gone to the warehouse instead. Knocking his friend’s teeth out would possibly have to do.

“You know, you came to me in search of solace,” Christian began, clearly offended. “And all I’ve gotten from you is overt threats of violence and an embarrassing display of self-pity on your part.”

“Christian, I swear–”

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