Page 9 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

She blinked, utterly taken aback.

“You mentioned your cousin slighted you,” Gabriel continued. “Though I am uncertain in what way, I’m sure you would be more than willing to give more detail. Not tonight, though,” he added. “As I still very much have an event to help run. You understand.”

Thalia nodded, hope sparking across her gaze. “O-Oh, yes—of course, Your Grace! I’m not even sure what to say.”

Gabriel held up his hand, a warning edge seeping into his tone. “Say nothing further until you hear my offer, Miss Sutton. You’ll come to find I am a man who often deals with a detailed set of rules.” One by one, he lifted a finger into the air, until his hand had completely unfolded. “Five nights; to earn my assistance against your cousin, you will spend five nights with me.”

Oh, but it was entirely too easy to send her into a panic.

“F-Five nights, your Grace?”

Gabriel took a bit too much pleasure in watching Thalia squirm. “Your thoughts betray you, Miss Sutton. I mean for you to spend five nights in my mansion as a guest. But, to the social world, you are my one and only, attending formal events and sharing your arm with me and only me.”

Quietly, Thalia mulled the offer in her head, seemingly looking for any loopholes he could exploit against her. “Five nights… and you swear it never goes beyond a proper courtship?”

Again, Gabriel nodded.

“But, why?” Thalia asked. “It seems this offer far favors me over you. What do you gain from this, Your Grace?”

“Let’s just say… ” he paused, rubbing his temple as a headache began to bloom. “A little birdie has been singing rather loudly on my shoulder as of late.”

A gentle knock interrupted their conversation further. Thalia scrambled to place her mask back over her face, with Gabriel leaning to block her from view.

He spotted Christian propped against the frame, Louise by his side with her crown of roses adorned with a red one. Her smile quickly faded to a gasp as she hurried past, to Thalia’s side.

“Gracious—what happened, Gabriel? Are you alright, Miss?”

Christian tsked, his arms crossed in mock-scorn. “Breaking your own rules, are you? I suppose you’ll have to walk back out and pummel yourself into submission.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes as Thalia quickly spoke up on his behalf. “Oh, no, no! His Grace isn’t the culprit—I chose poor footwear tonight, you see.”

Louise didn’t seem entirely convinced, but her husband’s reassuring arm against her shoulder seemed to soothe her worry. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, and I’d quite like to get home and rest after all the excitement.” Thalia stood, gathering her gloves before crossing Gabriel’s path. “Thank you again, Your Grace. I’ll… happily accept your help, should we cross paths again.”

As she left, Gabriel felt a weight against his back, Christian’s face pulling into view. “Ah, that’s a shame, friend. Looks like your prey got away this time.”

Gabriel smiled knowingly, hand brushing against his red rose. “On the contrary, Christian; I say the hunt has only just begun.”

CHAPTER5

Thalia had an awful sleep that night, though that wasn’t saying much as a resident of Whitechapel. If her mind hadn’t been buzzing with the duke’s proposal, then her neighbor’s nasty cough certainly would have been the reason for her headache.

The putrid scent of the unwashed from the streets below also kept her awake, slipping between the cracks of the boarded-up window within the hovel she claimed as her room.

Not that she dared to complain; anyone would be so lucky to own a rookery for themselves, and her brother had worked hard to earn it. Though he shared it with a handful of young men—his tosher crew—it was certainly better than the nearly one hundred folk she’d seen crammed into such small housing.

No. Thalia knew to hold fast to whatever blessings she had. The home was warm, the kitchen stocked well enough to not go hungry, and the men Robin had surrounded himself with proved to be as morally straight as he was. There had to be a deep level of trust, she supposed, between individuals whose well-being relied upon each other.

She’d never personally been down in the sewers (and fervently hoped never to visit), but from the occasional story Robin would tell of his exploits, it seemed a rather dangerous occupation. She had learned long ago that no job in Whitechapel was safe, and at the very least, her brother had a good group of companions to watch his back.

It was still nerve-wracking every time he set out for the evening, and the mornings drew out terribly whenever Thalia waited for his return. Today was especially difficult, and as she sat at their makeshift dining table, sipping a watery cup of tea, she found herself wondering exactly how to explain last night’s ordeal to her younger brother.

He certainly hadn’t been thrilled when she arrived on his doorstep all those weeks ago, but Thalia could tell Robin had been greatly enjoying her presence in the home.

The other men had as well, eagerly looking forward to whatever meager meal she could come up with before they headed out for the night. “To tell him now that a duke wishes my company for nearly a week…” Thalia sighed, setting her mug against the ring-stained table as she chanced a look out of the partially-boarded windows.

The factory smog rolled thickly today, obscuring even the closest of buildings and fading the dirty cobbles to near obscurity. Every so often, a hunched figure or tattered-skirt hem appeared from the haze, followed quickly after by wet, chest-wracking coughs.

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