Page 46 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

Her body no longer froze in fear, hands striking out with everything she had as nails found purchase against flesh. And she dug, and raked, and kicked, and welled for another scream–

“--Thalia, stop!”

The familiar tone snapped her free of her frenzy, and Thalia suddenly became aware of her surroundings. Of the lingering crowd of proper folk, staring and whispering and pointing at her state of duress. Of her hair, undone and wild, adorn with leaves and tiny twigs, and her dress, far muddier than before, with knicks and tears the forest had inflicted upon her.

Of the man’s face to whom she attacked, red and bruising, with clear marks of her nails red and certain to ache. The man’s face—it took a moment to piece together, to pair with the voice she’d come to associate with an iota of comfort and protection.

“G-Gabriel?”

CHAPTER21

She used his name. His proper name. The attack against him had been a surprise, but that simple word uttered by Thalia practically shattered the whole of Gabriel completely.

For a moment, all he could do was stare back at her, hands resting securely against her shoulders. He was aware of the staring, the whispers, his sister’s panicked questioning, but it all fell into the background. Gabriel…she had called him Gabriel.

His arms moved around Thalia’s waist before she could collapse onto the ground. She looked an absolute mess, pallid face covered in tiny scratches with her undone hair full of natural bits and bobs.

There was no obvious tearing on her dress—nothing that would indicate anything more than a thorned bush snagging at the fabric—and it almost looked as if she’d willingly smeared dirt all along the hem.

“Thalia!”

The hairs on Gabriel’s neck immediately rose, and he turned to find the little marquess stumbling through the crowd, face twisted in a smoldering rage and completely soaked. Their eyes locked, and Giles suddenly looked as if a stiff breeze would knock him over completely.

“What did you do?” Gabriel was surprised at how even his voice was, given all the horrific things he wished to do to the man who stood before him.

“I did nothing!” Giles snapped, pointing an accusatory finger Thalia’s way. “She’s the one who was trouncing around the wilds like—like some sort of witch!”

The weight of Gabriel’s body swung him completely around, Thalia in his arms as he easily towered over the little marquess. “She is a guest at my manor. You will watch your tone.”

“She is my cousin,” Giles retorted. “And clearly, she needs to be returned home immediately.” He eyed the growing crowd and offered a smirk Gabriel’s way. “This is a family matter, your Grace; I’m sure you can appreciate the desire one has to protect their family.”

An immediate ripple ran through the crowd. Gabriel visibly bristled as his father’s name passed their lips. He wondered, perhaps, how many kicks it would take before Giles collapsed to the ground, how long he could stomp against his body until he remained motionless. A mere fantasy, of course, as he was trapped by social expectations.

“Come now, Your Grace,” Giles sneered, his arms extending outward. “I appreciate your help, but I think my sweet Thalia’s time at Stonewell has come to an end.”

Gabriel’s embrace tightened, spurred on by the half-conscious murmur of the woman in his arms. No; there wasn’t a force on this planet that could pry her from his grasp. If the little marquess wished for death so eagerly, he would happily trade the sky for a lifetime staring behind bars. Anything to keep her safe. Anything to ensure–

“–Oh, Thalia! I can’t believe I let this happen!”

Gabriel blinked, having nearly forgotten his sister’s presence. Charlotte had quite abruptly inserted herself into the drama, fawning and fussing over Thalia’s lingering state. All the while, she gave her brother a long, lingering stare, a clear command he needed no vocalization for; remember who we are.

“Lord Oslay, I do so apologize for putting you in such an awkward position,” Charlotte went on, grabbing Giles’ hand as she held it with tight regard. “Why, I was in such a frantic state, looking all over the estate for poor Thalia. Could you imagine my panic, realizing I had let her go and get into such a dangerous situation?”

She freed one hand, producing a handkerchief while dabbing the corner of her eyes lightly. “Why, if something had happened to her, I daresay I would never forgive myself! To think, if you had never stumbled upon her, completely turned around in the woods after simply wishing to enjoy what nature had to offer…”

Giles visibly flushed at Charlotte’s trembling voice, and the crowd seemed just as drawn into her miserable state. “Y-Yes, well… I certainly couldn’t leave her as she was. Poor thing was… horribly turned around. In quite a state,” he added hastily.

“And you certainly couldn’t blame her! Gracious, but she must have been lost for hours…” Charlotte sobbed lightly, burying her face into her kerchief. “It’s my fault, really; I’ve failed her entirely as a hostess. I fear I shall never invite another into my home again!”

The crowd began to murmur their pity, and Gabriel couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride. How easy it was for him, to speak boldly and demand his way.

Meanwhile, his sister had slowly worked the crowd into her sympathies, turning the entire situation against Giles, should he so choose to continue playing the part of an angry brute. A clever wolf indeed; one who learned not to rely on her teeth and claws, but to wear the wool of the mindless sheep she paraded around.

“Please, my lady,” Giles hastily replied. “I had not meant to cause any upset.”

“And yet, you have done just that,” Gabriel interjected, stepping before his sister as she partially swooned behind him. “Not only have you caused this horrible scene, but you insult my sister’s capabilities.”

Giles cleared his throat loudly, taking note of the shifting tide and glaring eyes. “N-no, I–I’m certain you are a lovely hostess indeed, Miss Harding!”

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