Page 13 of Alone with a Scarred Earl
She raised an eyebrow, questioning him, but eventually, she turned to Genevieve.
“You are here in one piece,” she said, smiling warmly as she embraced her new sister-in-law. “I take it my brother did not frighten you with his gruff silences?”
Gabriel stiffened. He had wondered if he had prattled on too long, or conversely, or had been too silent in the times between conversations. Yet Genevieve gave his sister a warm, polite smile and shook her head.
“I found his conversation engaging,” she said, her cheeks turning into a deep shade of pink as she glanced at him.
While Genevieve went upstairs with her maid, Gabriel arranged their individual lodgings for the evening. Then, he lingered in the entryway until Sophia appeared at his elbow.
“You might at least try to look pleased,” she said with a wry smile.
Gabriel exhaled through his nose.
“I am not a man given to performances,” he said.
Sophia shook her head, patting her brother’s arm gently.
“No. That much has always been clear,” she said with a soft giggle.
Dinner proved more manageable than he had feared, largely due to Sophia’s determination to speak enough for all three. She launched into her account of the estate’s progress with a familiar flair, directing much of it toward Genevieve.
“You would hardly believe the state of Mountwood when Gabriel inherited it,” she said. “The dwelling's very roof threatened to give way, and its inhabitants, suffering from lack of proper nourishment, grew increasingly restless and ill-tempered. He had half the village rebuilt in two years.”
Gabriel grinded his teeth. Sophia was making it sound as though he had done everything to care for his family’s home on his own. That was very untrue.
“I had assistance,” he said evenly. “You must not forget that, Sister.”
Sophia shrugged gently.
“You financed it,” she said. “You planned every bit of it. If not for your stubbornness, Mountwood would have been sold off and divided by now.”
Genevieve looked at him then, her features thoughtful.
“That kind of work requires more than money,” she said softly. “It requires vision.”
He said nothing, though her words lodged somewhere deep in his chest. She had not meant to flatter, and that only made it worse. Meanwhile, Sophia continued undeterred.
“He used to ride the fields before dawn,” she said. “I assure you there were weeks I thought he had taken a monk’s vow of silence.”
Gabriel pushed away his plate.
“Are you quite finished?” he asked.
Sophia nodded, batting her eyelashes in a rather exaggerated fashion.
“For now,” she said.
After dinner, the ladies departed for their chambers. Sophia pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Be gentle,” she said quietly. “She is not made of glass, but nor is she you.”
Gabriel tried not to roll his eyes as he looked back toward his wife. Genevieve offered a silent nod as she withdrew. Gabriel returned it, though he could not bring himself to speak. Why was it suddenly so difficult to speak to the woman who had offered such stimulating conversation just hours prior?
Later, alone in the quiet of his room, he stood at the fire with his hands braced on the mantel, watching the flames burn low. Her words returned to him again, quiet and assured. She had not said as much, but there was an implication as she had spoken about her drawings. She drew what truly existed in nature, not what others perceived or assumed. He sat down, the bed creaking beneath him, and let the silence settle.
There was more to her than he had expected. Not just a pleasant manner or a quick mind, but something else. She had spoken of her father not with sentiment, but with a kind of clear sorrow he recognized. She had seen things, perhaps not the same things he had, but enough to understand that the world did not always conform to polite illusions. That kind of recognition had startled him. And he was drawn to it.
He rose again and walked to the window. The pane was cool against his hand as he looked into the still dark beyond the yard. Tomorrow, they would reach Mountwood. Then the true test would begin. She would live beneath his roof, walk his halls, and see the broken edges of the man who had built it back piece by piece.
