Page 12 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

Thalia was probably used to such intrusions. But he had meant the words he spoke aloud, and no harm would come to her so long as he was here.

He only fully registered her presence when, quite suddenly, she appeared at the table as well, having thrown her body’s weight against the attacker's arm in a desperate bid to…keep him safe, Gabriel realized. Or ensure the young man didn’t rot in jail for striking a duke.

“Thalia, who the hell is this?!” the young man spat, trying to push her free and behind him—or, as “behind” as he could manage, still sprawled out on the table as he was. “How did he get in here? Get off me—I’m trying to?—”

“Trying to make the situation worse, it seems,” Gabriel replied icily. Still, Thalia seemed to know the man to some extent, and he released his hold on the young man’s collar, stepping away to avoid whatever trick the man tried next.

He stood quickly, still held back by Thalia—a lover, perhaps? The thought burned in Gabriel’s chest, and he fought to calm his anger. It would do him no good to lose control.

“Robin, remember when I told you I’d explain my evening to you?” Thalia glanced Gabriel’s way, offering a weak grimace. “Well… he was my evening.”

‘Robin’ blinked, staring at Gabriel as if trying to find some fault within him.

“Robin…” Thalia sighed, gently taking the man’s hand—a hand Gabriel wanted nothing more than to break there and then. “This is Gabriel Harding. Co-owner of the Ton’s Orions… the Duke of Stonewell?”

It took a moment, but Robin seemed to finally connect the dots. “This is the man whose invitation…”

“You forged, I assume, yes,” Gabriel interrupted curtly. “I admit, it was impressive work; none of my guards noticed any imperfections.”

Robin seemed outwardly pleased by the praise, though a dark scowl remained as an arm protectively hovered between him and Thalia. “All right, so, what are you doing here?”

“Robin, manners.” Thalia gave an apologetic nod of her head. “I apologize, Your Grace; my brother isn’t entirely familiar with social etiquette.”

Her brother. Oh, the rush of relief that flooded Gabriel was practically intoxicating. He fought to keep his expression neutral, though, and tempered his voice to appear indifferent. “If I had known you had a brother, I would have brought more than one carriage.”

“Carriage?” Robin turned to his sister, clearly confused. “Thalia, what on earth did you get up to last night?”

“A tale I’m sure she’ll tell on the way to the manor.” Gabriel gestured towards the door, producing his pocket watch from his vest. “I had hoped to have departed by now—my men will stay here and guard your belongings, and we’ll send more carriages to collect what you need.”

“Collect what we—wait, are we going into town?” Robin shook his head, forcing his sister to step back with him. “I—I can’t go there. The Ton…” he spat. “And if I can’t go, there’s no way I’m letting Thalia.”

“You’d be surprised what a duke can get away with,” Gabriel replied curtly, still eyeing his pocket watch. “But I must insist we get going; I promised my sister we’d return by luncheon, and tardiness will not be tolerated.”

He watched as Thalia squeezed her brother’s hand. “It’s all right, Robin. I’ll explain everything on the way.” She stepped around Robin, an air of bravado overtaking her. “Lead on, Your Grace.”

* * *

The ride was… uninteresting, to say the least. Gabriel had expected only himself and Thalia, and thus planned to interrogate her further on details about her cousin, the estates, her… interests.

But with her brother sitting directly beside her, glaring daggers while Thalia told a story with which he was intimately familiar, the duke found himself absentmindedly staring out of the window, determined not to give Robin the satisfaction of his attention.

He was going to be a major thorn in his side, Gabriel could tell already. But, he hadn’t gotten to where he was today without operating under unusual constraints, and an unexpected sibling wouldn’t stand in his way.

Stand in his way… the phrase gave him pause, and Gabriel mulled the meaning over. What did he hope to gain out of all of this? Thalia had been right, of course, as five days of courtship was hardly anything compared to the regaining of one’s estates.

Charlotte would leave him be for a time, certainly, but once she realized Thalia wasn’t coming back… by all accounts, his proposition was less an exchange and more a favor, and Gabriel Harding didn’t do favors. He couldn’t do favors; that implied he had close ties with people. Ties that could be exploited.

His thoughts were interrupted as Thalia gently got his attention. “Um, Your Grace?” Her gaze flickered away as he looked to her, and she folded her gloved hands into her lap. “What… are we to do about my cousin?”

Gabriel had put quite a bit of thought into it. A quick and painless demise seemed too good for the new little Lord of Oslay. No. He wanted the small man to suffer long and terribly, have his social status and good graces stripped as violently away as he had done to–

“Because, the last thing I’d wish is to make trouble for you, Your Grace.” Thalia sighed, grasping her hands. “I appreciate you offering your home to us for the next few days, but Giles is certain to hear.”

“Good.”

Thalia blinked, clearly looking taken aback. “Th-that’s…good?”

Gabriel sat back in his seat, arms crossed against his chest. “I do not fear your cousin discovering our alliance, Miss Sutton. If anything, it will only work to our advantage.”

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