Page 23 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, slipping her legs out from the water before sheepishly making her way towards the blanket.

* * *

It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault, and Gabriel knew very well he shouldn’t be so cross about it. And as he watched his dear sister nibble nervously—loudly—on the end of a sliced pickle, he was aware that she could feel the anger roiling off his body.

Thalia could too, though the exact reason why was probably lost to her. Still, both women kept their voices soft, their conversation vague and polite, all while giving him a wide, social berth.

He decided to take advantage of the space to cool his head, setting the start of a flower crown aside before reaching towards a pitcher of lemonade. The day really was too lovely to let sour so easily, and the grove was just as beautiful as the day he found it.

Whether the other socialites knew well to steer clear due to his personal interest, or couldn’t stand the thought of ‘roughing it’ in the wilderness long enough to reach this spot, hardly mattered to him.

Eventually, he and Charlotte would have to emerge from the woods and socialize, but at least for now, they could let their guards down. For now, time could pass by him without being tracked so carefully.

As he sipped his drink (and inwardly made a face—someone in the kitchen really needed to learn how to temper their sugar use), Gabriel found his gaze lingering on Thalia. She looked as lovely as always, the olive hues of her dress a perfect complement to the brilliance of her eyes.

Of particular interest was her hair, done up in a neat bun without a curl left out of place. He noted how it wasn’t simply black, but a myriad of rich, brown shades when exposed to beams of sunlight. It was full, lively; like the fur of a black cat sunbathing at noon. More than anything, he wanted to see it undone and freely flowing against her body.

“Oh…” Charlotte made a slight face, setting a slice of buttered bread back onto her plate. “There are no ramps.”

Gabriel rose a slight brow, watching as Thalia gave a bemused smile. “Ramps, Charlotte?”

His sister nodded enthusiastically. “Wild onions—gracious, have you never tried them with butter before, Thalia? Gabriel makes them sometimes when the mood strikes him.” She turned towards him, eyes wide and pleading.

“Charlotte, I can’t simply make ramps appear because you desire them,” Gabriel said.

“I know that!” Charlotte huffed. “But you’ve told me before that they grow around here—can’t you go and find some?”

He chuckled lightly at her sheer audacity; it was only made more humorous at Thalia’s blanching face. Setting his cup aside, Gabriel rose from the ground and brushed off his trousers, offering a hand forward.

“Then you have to come and get them with me.”

Just as quickly as she offered, Charlotte quickly declined. “Absolutely not! You always make fun of me when we go foraging.”

“You mistook a species of destroying angel for a button mushroom,” Gabriel deadpanned. “I hardly consider keeping us alive, ‘making fun of you’.”

Charlotte made a face, leaning conspiratorially towards Thalia before whispering loudly, “Don’t listen to him, he’s lying through his teeth. He’ll tease you, too, if given the chance.”

Gabriel made a similar, if not somewhat more reserved, face back at his sister. Immediately, though, his mood brightened inwardly as Thalia spoke next.

“Well, if His Grace doesn’t mind the company, I’d love to see what foraging is like for myself.” She smiled shyly, her hand absentmindedly covering her splinted wrist. “It sounded very… interesting, when we discussed it last night.”

Charlotte’s eyes went wide, her eyes traveling between the two before she suddenly stood. “That’s actually excellent timing! I promised Louise I would visit her picnic grounds at some point, so you two go on ahead. Just meet us over there when you’re finished, and make sure to bring the ramps!” She quickly hopped to her feet and began to dart away.

“Shoes, Charlotte,” Gabriel sighed lightly.

His sister giggled nervously, returning to the blanket and quickly slipping her flats back on. “Oh—and I’m taking this as well,” she added, snagging the half-finished flower crown. “It’s atrocious work and I need to rescue it from your fat, uncoordinated fingers.”

With a slight wave, Gabriel watched as his sweet sister bounded off through the brush, every bit the wild animal he was inwardly. Her poor maid hurried to keep pace, hardly wanting to be chided for leaving the young lady without a chaperone.

His attention then shifted to Thalia, whose own maid sat across the blanket, unfazed by Charlotte’s antics. Thalia, meanwhile, looked completely in shock.

“Believe me, I tried to tame that side of her for years.” He offered his hand, which Thalia graciously took. “She swore if I ever made an honest attempt to change who she was, she’d never speak to me again.”

“Did she really?”

Brief memories flooded Gabriel’s mind as his ears began to ring in recollection—of shouting voices and slamming doors, of harsh words and hot tears that seemingly fell in endless waves down his sister’s youthful face. “I… wasn’t willing to test her and find out.” Something unspoken passed between them; he could feel it in the pit of his soul.

Thalia’s eyes had softened considerably, a slight overcast to what was usually bright and luminescent. She tried her best to maintain her smile, but the corners of her lips seemed strained, as if she tried to force her own memories away. In that moment, he spoke not to his shy little rabbit, but another eldest sibling who knew exactly—entirely—what he’d been through.

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