The Arrangement (Homestead Legacy Book 1)
Page 9
Dread washed over Gabriel although he wasn't sure why. He wasn't ashamed of the arrangement. He wasn't thrilled about shattering Priscilla's clearly romantic illusion about him and her brother, but Gabriel was happy to lay the blame for that at his lying husband's feet.
"He didn't," he said lightly, walking into his room as if he didn't care a jot. "His room is where it was when you left."
"Then why are you—?" The realization came with a physical jolt through Priscilla's body, and she leaned listlessly against the doorjamb. "But I thought…?"
"It's all right, Pris." Gabriel pulled his shirt over his head, unconcerned about his sister-in-law seeing him undressed, and went to the washstand to at least freshen up a little before putting on a clean shirt. "I'm guessing he didn't tell you much about our circumstances." Glancing over, he could see her jaw was tense but her eyes were glistening with tears. "It's quite all right between us. We're not unhappy."
"I just—" Priscilla's chin quivered for a moment before she sucked in a sharp breath and pulled herself together. It made Gabriel want to laugh to see the stern, emotionless expression that was so much like her brother's. "What time are you expecting him home? And do you mind very much if I mess up the other side of his face?"
Gabriel laughed, wiping his armpits and the back of his neck dry with a towel before reaching for the clean shirt he'd laid out that morning to wear in Nathaniel's office that evening. "He said he would be back before dinner, which is at seven. And I do as a matter of fact. Not least as you have no reason to be angry with him. Unless you're angry with me too?"
"Why would I be—? Well, I suppose that depends," she said with a grin. "Are you keeping secrets too?"
It was hard to laugh when all Gabriel could think was well, I'm in love with your brother despite the fact he doesn't want me, but he managed a chuckle before he finished buttoning his shirt and dragged her by the waist back down to the kitchen where Ruth and Eunice greeted her with shouts and hugs and stopped her from asking him the kind of searching questions he really didn't want to answer.
Eunice had been right when she'd said Priscilla filled the place when she was there. From the moment they stepped into the kitchen, the place was overflowing with laughter and chatter that buzzed around and lit up every corner. It took about two minutes for her to pull on an apron and get flour on her face as she muscled Ruth playfully aside to help with the cooking. The ladies seemed happy to include Gabriel, setting him up at the table with a pile of peas, a bowl to shuck them into, and instructions not to eat too many himself that they would be short for dinner.
Priscilla entertained them all for hours with tales of her travels as they worked. Apparently, a girl she'd been with in Paris where they had been finishing had been married to an oil baron who moved her all the way to California, much to the dismay of her pack, but it meant Priscilla had been invited to stay and had taken full advantage. Gabriel got the impression Priscilla's parents disapproved of the man, him being human, and so much of her decision to call on her friend was that the excursion would annoy them when they heard of it, although she didn't say that explicitly.
She told them every detail of the parties they had attended and how mostly the human contingent was kind and sweet and treated her and her married friend as something of a curiosity, although they were never so gauche as to show their teeth and claws when asked. She blathered about all the places she'd visited along the way, and barely took a breath as she rolled out the dumplings.
It was hard to miss that she did stumble over her words momentarily when Abel came in, and spent less time talking about what fun she'd had and more time talking about how good it was to be home once he was in the room. Abel, too, seemed to be acting out of character, practically curling into a ball in the corner, making a point of not watching her, which was more obvious than if he'd had his eyes glued to her backside.
Seeing the two of them like that, Gabriel raised his eyebrows at Ruth, giving her a knowing look, but got a subtle shake of the head and a look that plainly said, I know but don't. Just…don't.
It was Solomon sticking his head around the door that finally stopped the chatter. A quick, "Nate's home," had Priscilla ripping off her apron and quickly wiping her hands.
A second later, the door flew open, banging against the wall behind it, and Nathaniel stood in the doorway, as close to a wolf as Gabriel had ever seen him. Not that he was transformed in any way but his hackles were up and he appeared to tower more than usual. His eyes locked on his sister and he lurched across the room, discarding his stick as she leaped into his arms. Burying his face in the place where her neck met her shoulder, he growled, "I thought you were coming back next week."
The words were less muffled than her reply, which made no sense to Gabriel. That and he was momentarily made stupid by the unexpected sting of envy at seeing Nathaniel so expressive, his face so filled with love as he clung to Priscilla before holding her out at arm's length to look at her. The loving expression collapsed into a grimace when she promptly punched him as hard as she could in the chest.
To his credit, he folded double and put a hand to the area, as if she could have hit him hard enough for him to feel anything under his thick coat and all the muscle that lay beneath. "What was that for?"
"You know what," she sniped before throwing her arms back around his neck. "You're the stupidest, stupidest man…"
The admonishment appeared to rock Nathaniel and he only held her tighter, muttering, "Oh don't, Pris. Please, don't."
Gabriel was aware that Ruth and Abel were making great pains to not look at the siblings or at Gabriel for that matter, and he felt quite at a loss of what to do with himself until Nathaniel cleared his throat and pulled his sister off him.
"Well then," he said, all gruff and not the same man who'd been cooing to his little sister moments before. "I hope you'll be home for a time now. The house has been so quiet without you."
Priscilla scoffed. "So quiet you felt the need to persuade poor Gabe to come and garden for you?"
"Hey. Less of the poor." Gabriel grinned over at her. "And the glasshouse was Nate's gift to me so I've not exactly been press-ganged into helping."
The reaction in the room was not exactly what Gabriel had been expecting. Nathaniel blushed, for goodness sake, and Ruth and Abel pulled cheeky faces at each other as Priscilla's eyes lit up with mischief.
"Oh, did he now? How very generous of him." Flouncing over, she pulled Gabriel out of his seat and shoved her arm into the loop of his elbow. "I think we should go out onto the terrace and you should tell me what other acts of generosity my brother has bestowed on you while I've been away."
As she dragged Gabriel out of the room, she snagged a reluctant Nathaniel's hand with her free one and started to pull him along. He didn't resist but Ruth did when Priscilla looked back over her shoulder and implored her to join them. Instead, Ruth shooed everyone out of the kitchen with a laugh and told them to stay out until dinner was ready.
It seemed to set a precedent, or perhaps it was always how things were in the house when Priscilla was home, with Gabriel and Nathaniel getting dragged about from one place to the next, indulging her whims, the whole house being lighter and somehow more relaxed for it. Gabriel put that down to the change in Nathaniel. It was most obvious whenever his sister was actually in the room with him, but even generally, he appeared much more at ease, as if much of the tension that had been plaguing him the previous few weeks came from not knowing exactly where she was at any given moment.
Gabriel even took Priscilla with him when he went home to visit his father and the pack. Of course, she charmed everyone to the point they were almost willing to jump in the carriage and come back to the house then and there.
The only person who appeared at all troubled by her presence was Abel. Not that he seemed unhappy about her being there, rather that he was even more quiet and brooding, making a point of not watching her every move even though it was as if he couldn't bear to pass by a room if
she was in it. For some reason, Gabriel didn't want to bring his suspicions up to him, or any of the others. Not until they spilled out of him to the last person he thought he would talk to about something so personal.
It was late one night—Priscilla had been home almost two weeks—and Gabriel was working in the study alongside Nathaniel. Their tasks were utterly unrelated. Nathaniel was bent over his desk, scribbling away, while Gabriel was cross-legged on the floor, re-shelving a collection of jumbled volumes on property law, dusting each book he'd excavated from the debris before stacking it in its proper place. He was so engrossed, listening to the low scratchy music coming from the gramophone, he hadn't noticed the time or that Nathaniel was standing next to him until he felt a tap on the shoulder. "You're missing volume seven," Gabriel murmured as he turned his head, expecting to see Nathaniel's hand but not the glass of amber liquid being offered. He looked up and Nathaniel bumped his shoulder with the glass again when he didn't take it.
"It's late," he said. "A nightcap, then sleep?"
Gabriel sighed and took the glass only to groan when Nathaniel started to lower himself to the small patch of carpet Gabriel had cleared. "Oh, it's all dusty down here. You'll get muck on your trousers."
"Maybe I want muck on my trousers," Nathaniel grumbled as he struggled to the floor, his awkward leg sticking out every which way until he hit the rug with a bump and leaned back against the bookcase to face Gabriel.
"Maybe I don't want to have to pull a muscle getting you back up again," Gabriel muttered into his glass before he took a sip of his whiskey. It warmed his insides almost as much as watching Nathaniel's throat as he swallowed, or the stretch of his shirt across his chest where his waistcoat hung unbuttoned at his sides.
Nathaniel grunted and seemed content to simply sit with him in the quiet of the late evening with his eyes closed and head resting back, the oil lamps casting a golden light around them. It was likely the rest of the household had gone to bed and Gabriel couldn't help thinking this was his favorite part of the day. Just him and Nathaniel—alone.
"You know," Gabriel said, breaking the silence, "Pris wants us to go out to dine on Thursday? That place on Forty-Fourth Street."
"She did mention it."
"And?" Gabriel shook his head at himself for even asking the question. "What am I saying? Of course, you said yes."
"I don't spoil her," Nathaniel said quietly after a moment, his brow drawn into a frown.
Something about his tone was so vulnerable, Gabriel schooled his inflection into something soft and careful. "I didn't say you did."
"She just—she needs to know I'm there for her. That I support her. As her Alpha."
Gabriel's fingers itched to reach out to take Nathaniel's hand and reassure him. Instead, they sat there in the quiet for as long as Gabriel could stand the silence. Or rather until, for reasons he could never quite fathom, he blurted out, "You know Abel is in love with her, I assume?"
To his surprise, Nathaniel nodded and looked rather sad as he gazed down at the glass in his lap. "He asked her to marry him last summer."
Gabriel hoped he didn't look as surprised as he felt, given the way his mouth flopped open. "She turned him down? Did she not believe them to be mates?"
Nathaniel shrugged. "I have no doubt she does and loves him equally. She cried for two days after. But she's young and wanted to travel when he didn't."
"Oh." Gabriel could see the issue, although he had to wonder what he would be willing to give up for love. "You think she would change her mind? Or rather, do you think he will wait for her?"
Nathaniel sighed and brushed his fingers through the growth of hair on his chin that would threaten to turn into a beard before the end of the week. "Perhaps. But then sometimes we don't always get what we want when it comes to matters of the heart."
Tears stung at the corners of Gabriel's eyes at the thought. The dust probably. "No," he said, willing them away. "No, not always."
The following evening, Gabriel was sure as hell what he wanted and thought he might burst a testicle if he didn't get it. As soon as he saw Nathaniel come down the stairs—dressed in his evening suit, the white shirt and waistcoat contrasting starkly with the black tailcoat, the sturdy gold-topped cane glinting in tandem with the gold watch chain he always insisted on wearing, his dark hair slicked back and a signet ring on the small finger of his left hand—an ache started in Gabriel's nether regions that he knew he'd be carrying all evening. A groan eased out of him before he knew it was coming, but he managed to cover the noise fairly successfully with a cough.
"Are you ill? We can postpone if you feel unwell." Nathaniel scowled at him as he came close.
"We're not postponing," Priscilla stated with authority as she sashayed across the hall toward them, adjusting her glove. Her gait faltered a moment when she looked up and caught sight of the two men. "Oh my. I shall be the envy of the whole of New York tonight, being out with my handsome brothers. Don't you think Gabriel looks nice, Nate?"
It wasn't a tease, or at least it didn't sound so on her part. Gabriel was wearing much the same arrangement as Nathaniel, there was little variation to be had in men's attire compared to the ladies, apart from the quality of the cloth and skill in tailoring. Gabriel knew he didn't look quite as good as Nathaniel given his skinny frame and unruly hair, which was untamable no matter how much he tried to oil it. Still, he didn't feel he warranted the look of constipation that passed over his husband's face when his eyes dragged up his body from his shoes to his coif, even if Gabriel did imagine Nathaniel's gaze lingered on his mouth for a moment.
"He looks—well."
Gabriel laughed. "As do you, Alpha. Your sister on the other hand looks positively divine, don't you think?"
Nathaniel's expression softened slightly when he turned to look at Priscilla. Her gown was lovely but understated, a deep plum with a sweeping neckline edged with silk roses, beaded around the waist and on the skirt, with plump sleeves, all mostly hidden under her coat, which was hanging open, and her hair was drawn up from her face. She looked stunningly elegant and it was easy to see the familial resemblance, despite the difference in the siblings coloring.
"Yes, she does," Nathaniel murmured. Sometimes Gabriel wondered what had happened between the two of them that made Nathaniel look at Priscilla as if he could hardly believe she was in the room with him, as if he was right then understanding she was not a dream or mirage.
Priscilla only laughed. "Well, that's sweet but wait until you see Eunice. That new dress was worth every penny."
As well as the three of them, Eunice, Ruth, and Solomon were joining them for the evening. Abel had declined, making some excuse and roping Frank into abetting him by saying they would be fine alone together for one night. Not that Priscilla hadn't tried to talk him out of it. Gabriel had passed by a door left slightly ajar the day before to see the two of them engaged in a quiet conversation, Abel leaning on the back of a chair, his arms folded tight across his chest, head bowed, and eyes firmly on the floor. Priscilla had been standing close, but not too close, her hands clasped at her waist as if she was having to physically restrain herself from reaching out to touch him. They'd spoken so low Gabriel hadn't caught the words, only the pleading tone in Priscilla's voice and the way Abel had shaken his head. He'd left them to it, contemplating mentioning the exchange to Nathaniel but in the end just letting them be. Priscilla had seemed no different afterwards, although as the six of them drove away in the hired carriage, he did notice her look back at the house briefly with grief in her eyes.
Her sad expression was long gone by the time they had reached the city. As always, the sound of a hundred horses' hooves striking the street, the clattering of wheels on the cobbles, and the general hubbub—and stink—of city life took a moment to get used to as they descended the carriage. Priscilla had asked the driver to stop at the Reservoir Park so they might walk a little before dining. The weather was nice and Gabriel suspected she did it less to show off her new outfit than
to annoy her brother who looked more and more irritated the closer they got to their destination.
Once out in the open air, Nathaniel at least had the grace to put a brave face on his discomfort, holding his head up and striding along with his limping gait regardless of the looks that came his way. The pack fell into formation—Solomon and his wife arm-in-arm took the lead with Priscilla and Eunice behind them, also joined at the elbow, laughing and whispering about every little thing. It was clear Priscilla reveled in having a younger packmate to coo over and dress up, as well as confide in, and it appeared Eunice didn't exactly hate the arrangement either.
Nathaniel and Gabriel came last. It felt natural to walk along, close but not touching, even though Gabriel was tempted to let his fingers brush the back of Nathaniel's hand. After attempting to make conversation but being rebuffed by a series of grunts from his husband, Gabriel gave up, happy to lapse into a companionable—if not entirely comfortable—silence, as often was the state between the two of them.
As they approached the building, it was clear to see the place was popular even in the early evening. Several carriages were pulling up to the cobbled street to deposit their occupants, and the view up to the main entrance was obscured by the crowd walking up the steps. As they made their way inside, Gabriel was struck at the elegance of the building, with the plaster moldings on the ivory walls, crisp bright chandeliers, and the sumptuous red carpet. Several attendants in black jackets and long white aprons at their waists stood at attention around the wide atrium that narrowed before the patrons could mount the stairs, taking them past the cloak attendants who were busy removing coats and hats to hang in the alcove behind them.
By the time they had reached the dining room on the second floor, Gabriel was quite warm. There was a lively tune coming from the sinfonietta that was placed to one side of the room, but it had to compete with the chatter of so many guests bouncing off the domed ceiling. Most of tables—covered with sharp, icy-white tablecloths and gaudy floral centerpieces—were occupied by ladies and gentlemen all in their best gowns, hoping to be seen by someone who mattered. Gabriel did his best to cast his eyes around to see who might be dining with them. His interest was quickly overtaken by the exquisite aroma of the most delicious food that was being paraded around at shoulder height by waiters in smart dress and enough dexterity to carry the heavy trays up high without dropping them on anyone. Gabriel was rather envious given his own disposition for clumsiness under scrutiny.