“Did I wound your pride, Gabe?” Amelia snapped, and he could hear the sneer she undoubtedly wore. “Take all the fun out of your night? I had everything sorted, and I am not some pale and swooning miss who needs a nanny to cross the street. I was raised in the gutters, Gabe. I know far more than you think.”
He clenched his hands at his sides and lowered his head. He could not relive last night, could not bear to think what might have happened, but he could not let her think this was about him. That his reputation or pride somehow took precedence over…
“You went into a situation,” he tried, keeping his voice low and as controlled as he could manage, though it shook a little, “without knowing any of the facts. You didn’t know how big Alderson was or if he had been drinking. You didn’t know what I knew about him. You were entirely unprepared…”
“Not entirely,” she protested hotly. “I told you I knew…”
“…unprepared,” he said again, his voice rising sharply. “Unprepared and untrained for anything you would find. You showed you could accomplish the task you went to do, I grant you, but just because you can, Amelia, does not mean that you should.” He swore with a hiss, his fists balling up again. “It was rash; it was reckless; it was bloody dangerous; and…”
“You were worried.”
Her tone had completely changed, soft and clear, no longer defensive but full of wonder.
He shook his head immediately. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You were worried,” she said again, this time with confidence, still keeping her voice soft, and it pierced his heart as surely as any bullet or blade had ever pierced him.
He forced out a weak chuckle, knowing it was pointless to deny it any further. “Worried? I was bloody terrified!” He forced his eyes open and released a long sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “And the worst of it was that you’d already done it. I couldn’t even see straight, and that man just sat there, waiting for me to get on with it, while I imagined every twisted scenario with you in it. Everything that could have gone wrong, every injury you could have sustained, every…” He exhaled sharply and shook his head. “Damn you, Amelia!”
“You were worried?” This time it was a question, and it sounded far too sentimental for his taste.
He looked over his shoulder at her, almost annoyed that she was smiling. “Don’t read anything into that.”
Amelia was moving instantly, her intent clear. “Oh, Gabe…”
He backed up hastily and held out a hand in warning. “Don’t come over here. I’ve more than half a mind to throttle you for being a bleeding idiot. I can’t promise anything.”
Her smile was placating as she reached him. “I’ll take my chances,” she murmured as she slid her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest.
For a few moments, he didn’t do anything. How could he? His internal battle between punishing and embracing her had never been stronger, and he had never been a demonstrative man. Well, in the pleasant sense, at any rate.
He was enthusiastically demonstrative in other ways.
But as Amelia clung to him, as her warmth permeated him, he felt himself soften, sigh, and then, before he knew what he was doing, he was hauling her tightly against him. He buried his face in her hair as a few shudders racked his frame, the feeling of Amelia the only thing keeping him grounded. He was clutching at her, possibly painfully so, but he couldn’t help it.
He needed her to be safe, to be secure, and to be here. With him.
“Gabe,” she said softly, running her hands gently along his back. “It’s all right. It’s all right.”
“Never again,” he growled, gripping her hair tightly in his hand. “Do you hear me?”
He felt her nod against him, and the sensation shot all the way down to his toes. It gripped him fiercely as he held her, clenching at his heart, a gnawing possessiveness suddenly coursing through his veins. He tugged her head back a little so that she could meet his eyes.
“I mean it,” he growled, his voice rough. “No more. I can’t…”
She nodded, smiling a little and laid a hand on his cheek. “It’s all right. My case, but your investigation, all right?”
He searched her eyes for a long moment, then turned his face to kiss her palm. “Right,” he murmured against the skin. He moved his hand down to her chin and tipped her face up for a kiss, which soon became a gentle, teasing sequence of kisses that did nothing to settle him, but they did force his fear back into the shadows.
Amelia gripped the back of his neck with both hands and broke the kisses, pressing her forehead against his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Forgive me?”
He exhaled roughly and shook his head against her. “It’s going to take me a little time. I will forgive you, I have no doubt, but right now…”
She nodded, leaning back a little in his hold. “I understand. It’s too soon, too fresh.”
He swallowed with more difficulty than he’d ever done. “Are you… injured? At all?” He scanned her face carefully but could not see much of anything. He tried to recall how she’d entered, if there were any indications of pain or discomfort, but he’d been too focused on other things to pay much attention.
“No,” she said softly. “I’m perfectly well, I promise.” She gave him a little smile. “You don’t have to worry about me so much, you know.”
“I didn’t know I did worry about you so much,” he admitted, not bothering to hide his surprise. “It never occurred to me until suddenly I was in the throes of it.”
Her smile grew and hit him somewhere in the middle of his chest. “That’s so sweet.”
Gabe groaned and stepped back, dropping his hands and shaking his head. “Don’t say that. There isn’t anything more emasculating than sweet.”
Amelia hummed and moved to a chair, sitting quite properly. “What about endearing?”
He snorted and sat in his own chair, propping his feet up on the desk. “What am I, an aged busybody relative who says all the wrong things?”
“Precious?”
“Not a fluffy dog.”
“Attractive?”
“Well…” He paused, considering that. “I like that one.” He flashed her a brief grin. “Any more like that?”
Amelia laughed and reached for her reticule. “Maybe later, if you behave.”
“I shall attempt to do so,” he replied, nodding obediently. He watched her rummage in the small bag and then snorted softly. “What are you looking for, Amelia?”
“My notes,” she grunted, sounding rather disgruntled. “I could have sworn I put them… Ah! Found it.” She produced the folded sheet of paper and waved it.
His fleeting amusement faded a little. “From last night?”
She nodded once. “Pretend I didn’t do something so offensive last night and compare notes with me.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, considering the events. He couldn’t guarantee that Alderson had truly remembered everything, especially when he could not accurately say how long Amelia had been there. If she were any other operative, he would have done so.
But she wasn’t an operative.
She was… well, she was something else entirely.
If he were not careful, she would become even more of something else, simply because it was becoming increasingly difficult to find reasons not to. And he found that being with Amelia was far better than being without Amelia.
Whatever that said about anything.
But for now, he could put his personal concerns, and emotions, aside and focus on the task at hand. Because dwelling on the rest was far less comfortable.
He nodded firmly and swung his legs off the desk. “Very well, then.” He leaned forward, rested his arms on the desk, and looked at Amelia with what was hopefully a clear expression. “What do we know?”
That had been far too close for comfort.
Amelia let herself breathe a sigh of relief when Gabe had asked her to leave so he could see to other cases. He’d given her plenty to
work on, including discovering details of her family in Hertfordshire using what he had found in his preliminary investigations, and she was content with that.
She leaned against the wall outside of his door and closed her eyes.
If only he hadn’t been the one to discover she’d been to see Alderson. Anyone else could have done it and never quite put all the pieces together. Even if word had trickled back to Gabe that she had done it, he might not believe someone else’s account. Surely someone like her could never have done the sort of damage to a man like Alderson that she had done, and she would never have been able to get the kind of answers from him that people claimed.
At least he had no idea that she had more ability than that in her repertoire.
It was far better that he think she was merely willful than know the truth. Then again, he always seemed to know more than she suspected. It was entirely possible that he already knew just what she was capable of.
She frowned as she considered that idea. Surely, after all these years, she was better at hiding things than that; he would never have been able to see anything of the sort.
Had he caught her lack of promise not to venture out again? She’d almost held her breath, expecting him to make her promise not to do it again. But he hadn’t. Gabe was so used to having his way that he probably presumed, and wrongly, that his command was sufficient. After all, who would dare go against the edicts of the Rogue?
Well, if it suited her to do so, she certainly would.
Not that she had plans to at this time, as last night had been quite sufficient. And after seeing Gabe’s reaction and feeling the way he had held her, she was not particularly inclined to drive him to that again. Unless she could truly keep it from him.
She smiled to herself a little as she remembered it. It had been quite lovely, though. To know that he cared that much about her and her safety was rather heady. And he’d never held her like that. He’d never really held her at all before this.
She rather liked being held.
And she found that she rather liked Gabe. Quite a lot, actually.
“What are you smiling at?”
Amelia glanced over at Gent, coming out of his own office and smirking at her a little. She shrugged. “We’ve made some good progress,” she said with real honesty.
“Have you indeed?” he asked, smiling with his perfect teeth.
She nodded and waved the papers in her hand at him. “I have leads to follow up on. Things to do. Problems to solve.”
Gent had the good sense to at least pretend to be amused by her. “I see. And the sigh before that?”
Amelia gaped at him for a moment, then blushed furiously, averting her eyes at once and suddenly finding the need to tuck an invisible strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about.”
She heard his low chuckle and glanced up at him.
He was watching her steadily but smiled with a sort of fondness that did not make any sense to her. Why should her interest in and feelings for Gabe make any difference to him? Or endear her to him in any way? Surely it was a sign of mental disturbance or deathly illness, more a cause for concern than amusement.
Nothing to make him look so pleased.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” she muttered.
“Not really,” he replied easily.
“Yes, you do,” Rook announced as he strode into the room, his eyes dancing with far too much mischief.
Both Amelia and Gent straightened up, looking wary.
“Do I?” Gent asked his comrade, obviously at a loss.
Rook nodded slowly, still smiling. “Something’s come for you. Out front.”
Gent frowned as he glanced towards the foyer.
“Out there out front,” Rook said with a laugh, indicating beyond the room. “Out. She’s. Out. Front. Now.”
Amelia was surprised to hear Gent groan and watched him move to the front and exit, his pace quick despite the apparent agony. The office door closed and no one in the front made any comments about it.
She looked over at Rook, who seemed to be restraining laughter. “What’s so amusing about that?”
Rook leaned against the wall and considered her carefully. “I’m not sure I should tell you,” he mused. “You might get the wrong idea.”
“I’d have to have any idea to get a wrong one,” she pointed out with a dry snort.
He flashed a smile that made her stomach flip, which made her feel guilty, which made her blush, which made her look away.
“Oh ho, what’s this?” he asked, tapping her cheek.
She swiped at his hand. “Nothing!”
He made a quiet noise that seemed out of character, and she chanced a look up at him. He was not smiling now, but neither was he displeased. He looked at Gabe’s office door intently, as if he could see through it and into the office beyond, and then he looked at Amelia again.
“Do you know what you’re doing, Amelia?” he murmured in a serious tone.
Amelia reared back a little, confused by the sudden turn. “I think so…” she replied slowly.
He dipped his chin a little, his gaze becoming more pointed. “You think, or you know?” He shook his head slightly. “Can’t be both.”
“I have no clue,” she admitted softly before she could stop herself.
That made Rook smile a little. “Well, that’s all right,” he said, pushing away from the wall. He nudged his head towards Gabe’s office. “Neither does he.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped as Rook started to amble back towards his office, wondering how in the world her emotions, and her situation, were so obvious to Gabe’s friends when they were trying so hard to hide it.
But if they knew…
“Rook?”
He stopped and turned to face her again. “Amelia?”
She bit her lip, hesitating. “Is it… is it possible? For someone like him to have feelings for… well, for any of it to be real?” She knew she was blushing furiously, but she had to know. “Can any of you have a real life beyond this?”
Rook gave her another too-thorough look, then looked beyond her back towards the front of the office. “He does,” he finally answered, nudging his head in the direction Gent had disappeared. Then he looked at her and tilted his head towards Gabe’s door. “He might.” Then he looked towards Cap’s door and exhaled heavily. “He used to.”
“And you?”
He glanced at her with a small smile. “Only if I am very lucky, Miss Berger.” He nodded at her and moved into his office, leaving her standing there with more questions than answers.
And a small but fervent flame of hope.
He might.
She straightened up and nodded to herself. She had work to do, and Gabe did too, and until they sorted this whole thing out, until they finished her case, there was nothing for her to hope for.
Her heart skittered to a halt as she heard faint whistling from within Gabe’s office, making her smile yet again.
Well, perhaps she could hope a little.
Chapter Seventeen
But why would you not tell me?”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
“Balderdash. I refuse to believe you do not know.”
“Would I lie to you?”
“You lie to me all the time!”
Gabe nodded thoughtfully at this accusation. “This is true.”
His aunt threw up her hands and strode away from him, shaking her head. “I should have chosen your cousin Thomas as my heir. He was a sensible man.”
That was a laughable thought, and Gabe snorted loudly. “Thomas was an imbecile who would have turned your holdings into a weak imitation of last century France without any means of supporting any of it. Your money would have been utterly wasted.” He tilted his head with a cheeky smile. “And he was entirely without a sense of humor.”
“At this moment, so am I,” Geraldine snapped, giving him a cross look.
Gabe sat forward a
nd defied his usual rudeness by pouring a cup of tea, adding two lumps of sugar and a splash of cream. “Well, sit yourself down, and have a cup of tea,” he soothed, stirring it gently and holding it out for her. “It will all seem much less dramatic after that.”
His aunt considered the cup for a moment, never looking at Gabe, then huffed and took it from him, sitting rather gracefully on the divan, despite her obvious agitation. “How did you know how I take my tea?” she muttered, flicking her eyes in his direction.
“I pay attention,” he replied, sitting back easily. “And tea is not that complicated to begin with.”
She threw him a scolding look. “You have no idea how complicated tea can get.”
He held up his hands in surrender, trying not to smile. “Apologies, Aunt.”
She sniffed and sipped her tea softly, then looked him over carefully. “Why do you look more proper this morning?”
Gabe looked down at his ensemble in surprise. “Do I?” He hadn’t thought so, but perhaps the addition of a cravat and waistcoat, no matter how plain, did give him a more respectable air. His usual dress was a simple linen shirt and coat, if the coat at all. The nature of his work afforded him the joy of not having to adhere to the fashion edicts of Society.
But today, unintentionally, he had done so.
“Perhaps Houser has discovered a love for the finer things,” he suggested, smirking playfully.
“Doubtful.” Geraldine still stared at him, eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Gabriel?”
He folded his hands together over his tweed waistcoat. “Now what makes you think I want anything?”
“You called on me,” she pointed out, her expression as serious as her tone. “I can count on one hand the number of times you have done that.”
“Oh, please, that is completely…” he scoffed, trailing off as her look became more severe.
Dash it all, she was right.
He groaned and looked up at the ceiling. “I need your help,” he confessed, each word feeling rather painful to state.
There was no response from his aunt, which was the most terrifying silence in the world, and he shifted his eyes in her direction.
A Rogue About Town (London League, Book 2) Page 20