Page 61 of My Darling Rogue
“You are always welcomed for a visit, my lady,” Gabriel said to his mother-in-law while snaking an arm around Celia’s waist. “In fact, everyone is welcome. Even you, Longleigh.”
Tristan shot Gabriel a hard look. “If I suspect my sister is unhappy, you can bet that I will pay you a visit. Perhaps sooner than you might think.
Gabriel’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Please do. And bring your lovely wife as well. I know Celia will enjoy seeing someone familiar.”
Heath grinned at the back and forth between the two men. “We’re all one big family now. I, for one, cannot wait for Christmas.”
Lady Darby smiled at the man’s good-natured teasing. “I’m sure it will be a grand time.”
“We should be on our way, Celia. If we make good time, we should reach Rosenthorne Park by tomorrow afternoon.” Gabriel squeezed her waist and Celia nodded in agreement. Then she found herself swallowing her tears as Tristan pulled her from Gabriel. He enfolded her in a warm embrace.
“Violet and I shall come as soon as it is agreeable to you both. And for all my blustering, I know Gabriel to be a good man. He will take care of you. I know he will.” Tristan released her and clapped a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Watch over my sister, Rosenthorne.”
“With my life,” Gabriel replied. He stepped back then, allowing everyone else to say their goodbyes. And he remained stoic as his half-brother wrapped Celia in an enthusiastic hug.
“I shall see you soon, sweet sister,” Heath said jovially. “If not at Banbury Lake, then most certainly at Rosenthorne.”
His embrace was followed by several from both Ivy and Sara, and affectionate ones from Sebastian and Allan. Her father kissed Celia’s cheek and shook Gabriel’s hand.
“Be mindful of my daughter’s wellbeing, Rosenthorne,” he said.
Gabriel nodded. As if in afterthought, he pulled both Heath and Sebastian to the side of the circular drive, speaking in a low voice. Whatever he said apparently puzzled the two men for Sebastian’s eyebrow lifted high and Heath frowned. But Celia had no opportunity to discover what their discussion could possibly be about because, with sudden finality, it was time to leave.
Gabriel handed Celia up into the coach on loan from the Ravenswood stables. Arion would be fetched at a later date as Gabriel did not trust anyone other than himself to ride the stallion.
Celia took the seat facing forward and waved out the glass window to her mother. Gabriel did not take the opposite seat. Instead, he settled in beside her, his wide shoulders turning so that he did not take up so much of the space.
How odd it felt to be leaving in such a manner. Unsupervised and alone with a man in the close quarters of a coach. Shooting a glance at Gabriel, she wondered if he felt the strangeness of the situation even more keenly than she did. After all, he’d arrived at Beaumont as a normal man. He left it as a highly connected marquess with an enormous estate and his own personal wealth.
“I hope you don’t mind that I am sitting beside you,” he murmured, watching as she blew a kiss to Sara and Ivy.
“I don’t mind,” she said quietly, turning back to him.
“I realize it is far more crowded this way, but I have difficulty when it comes to riding in reverse.” He was almost sheepish while making this confession.
Celia’s head tilted, waiting for further explanation as the coach lurched forward.
Gabriel grunted, bending his head so he could stare out the window beside him. “I become nauseous when occupying the jumpseat.” The admission seemed pulled from him.
“I shall sit opposite of you, Gabriel. It does not bother me to ride in reverse.”
It seemed impossible that this muscularly fit man possessed such a commonplace weakness. And that he was obviously embarrassed by its existence. The unexpected insight into her husband sent a tiny pang of tenderness straight through her heart.
Gathering her skirts, Celia went to move but Gabriel captured her wrist. He twined his fingers with her gloved ones.
“Stay beside me, Celia.” His lips quirked with a rueful grin. “It’s a long journey, but you and I shall alleviate the monotony together.”
When they were younger, she and Tristan would play games while traveling. Usually, this dissolved into a rather serious competition over who counted the highest number of black sheep in passing fields.
She couldn’t imagine Gabriel playing such games, even in jest.
Gabriel urged her closer until Celia was nestled under his arm. He smelled amazing and her cheeks flushed pink remembering how he’d bathed in the corner of the suite that very morning.
He’d not hid his nakedness. Celia found herself looking anywhere but his direction when he rose from the tub like a dripping wet Adonis. During her own bath the night before, he’d fled the suite and did not return until late in the night. She’d been asleep by then, but when he crawled beneath the coverlet, she naturally gravitated to his warmth.
It was puzzling that he’d not yet insisted on asserting his husbandly rights. She could not reason why he seemed determined not to touch her. She was his now. He was entitled to do whatever he wished and Celia almost wished he would. It would end this strange state of limbo between them.
“How will we do that?” she inquired, referring back to his statement of banishing boredom during their journey.
