Gabriel swallowed hard past the sudden bile in his throat. “I do hate a party,” he grumbled.
“Gabriel—” his brother began.
Gabriel shut his eyes. “What?”
“You are human,” Evan said, his voice soft.
His eyes flew open and he glared. “Of course I am. What sort of a thing is that to say?”
Evan touched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t fight your feelings, Gabriel. Don’t deny them. The last thing I want to see you do is regret more than you already do. It’s no way to live.”
A sudden, unexpected cascade of emotions flooded Gabriel at his brother’s gentle words. Emotions he rarely allowed himself to feel. And for good reason. He didn’t want to feel them now. He didn’t want Evan or anyone else to see them.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, pushing all those emotions aside, back down, down deep where they belonged. Where they wouldn’t trouble him.
“All right,” Evan said, his dark gaze still on Gabriel’s face.
Gabriel turned away. “I’m tired, that is all. I’m tired. I’m going to go. Will you tell the others good night for me?”
“Are you certain you don’t want to—”
Gabriel didn’t wait for the end of Evan’s sentence. He waved him off and began to walk away. “Good night, Evan.”
Long strides took him from whatever response his brother would give. Took him across the room where people still stared at him, whispered about him. Took him to the exit, the door which should have been such a relief to pass through. Only he couldn’t.
He stopped instead and turned back, searching across the ballroom, seeking what he refused to acknowledge.
Juliet.
She was in the arms of one of those fools who had surrounded her a moment before. Some lesser nobleman who was in no need of a dowry to fill his coffers. She was smiling as the gentleman chatted away at her. She didn’t look unhappy; she didn’t look bored. She just looked beautiful.
And his heart actually ached as he forced himself to walk away.
Chapter Fourteen
Juliet shifted her position and stared at the book in her hand. She did not think she had ever before read a sentence over and over so many times and still had no idea what was being said. With a sigh, she tossed the tome onto the cushion beside her.
“Perhaps you should just bloody well admit you aren’t reading at all,” she snapped at herself.
She got to her feet and began to pace the carpet. What was she doing? Brooding, it seemed. A habit she had picked up from Gabriel, no doubt.
She couldn’t help it, though. Her mind was spinning with thoughts and she felt she had no choice but to ruminate on them. And almost all had to do with Gabriel, himself.
He’d walked out of the ball last night without so much as a goodbye. Had dancing with her been so awful that he couldn’t stay one more moment? She’d thought they’d had a nice time on the floor and then he’d implied he did it to keep other men away from her. That had spoiled their connection.
And then there were those other men. She had been inundated by them the rest of the evening. Tall and short, fit and fat, old and young, modestly titled and second sons—her dance card had been filled to the brim. Some had been oafish. But others had been very kind and friendly.
Lady Woodley had been pleased beyond measure at Juliet’s “success”, but Juliet felt wrung out by the experience. She had compared them all to one man and all had fallen short.
“But that one man makes it clear he does not want you,” she murmured.
She shook her head. That wasn’t true. Gabriel did want her. The passion between them was intense and powerful. But he didn’t want to keep her. She was a diversion to him. An assistant in his obsessive quest to find his sister. But beyond that? There was nothing between them. When she returned to Idleridge, he would probably never think of her again.
“Which is why you must keep your head on your shoulders,” she said with a nod of affirmation.
“Are you talking to yourself?”
She tensed at the deep tones of Gabriel’s voice behind her. Damn it. She slowly turned to find him in the process of closing the parlor door behind himself, putting them alone together. And that head on her shoulders felt like it made a movement to the clouds where it did not belong.
She gritted her teeth and tried to put all flowery thoughts of Gabriel from her mind. “I wasn’t sure you would come,” she said.
His brow knitted. “You weren’t? I said I would.”
“Yes, and then you walked out of the ball last night without so much as a goodbye.” She folded her arms and wished she didn’t sound so damned wounded. “So I didn’t know if I had offended you.”
He turned his face, as if trying to hide something. “No, Juliet. I was simply…tired.”
He sounded tired, and her heart ached for him as she looked at him in that moment. He was vulnerable even if he pretended that emotion wasn’t his friend. Beneath his surface she saw pain, she saw desperation, and she saw the capacity he had for love when it came to Claire and the rest of his family.
She moved toward him out of instinct and lifted a hand to his cheek. “I know this tries on you, Gabriel. How can I help?”
He looked at her in surprise, and for a long, charged moment she thought he might confide in her, turn to her with his pain and not just his need to investigate. But then he shook his head and backed away a step.
“Is my mother in?” he asked.
She sighed as she regathered her composure. “No, she is out. So is my father.”
“So we are alone.”
He said the words and suddenly there was tension in the air. The crackle of their physical connection was palpable as Gabriel’s gaze slid over the entire length of her body. She responded to it. How could she not when she wanted him so desperately? But behind that response, there was a flicker of disappointment.
Was there only sex between them? Was that why he could be so cool while she ran so hot?
“Did my mother know I was coming by?” he asked.
She swallowed hard. “I-I didn’t mention it to her.”
He nodded as if digesting that fact and edged back closer to her. “Why?”
“Because I thought we should be alone,” she said, and then realized how it sounded. “For our project.”
“I see,” he said, and he smiled. She stared at the expression, so rare and yet so lovely when he allowed it. He looked younger. So much less stern. Like the kind of man who sketched and read the colorfully spined books in his bedroom rather than the kind of man who forced himself not to feel.
Then the smile fell as he reached into his inside pocket and withdrew a packet of letters. “Perhaps we should begin while we have time,” he said. He looked at the letters and then held them out. His hesitation to do so was clear by the way his normally steady hand shook ever so slightly.
“What are these?” Juliet asked as she took the offering and went to work untying the string that bound the stack.
“All the correspondence between my sister and me since she disappeared,” he said softly.
Juliet nearly dropped the letters as her gaze jolted back to his face. “You had mentioned her correspondence before, but I had no idea there was so much of it.”
“Yes.” His voice cracked on that one word and once again Juliet longed to rush to him, hold him, comfort him. But he’d already made it clear he wouldn’t allow that. He cleared his throat. “She has only written to me and to Josie over the past two and a half years. But we’ve never been able to answer since we don’t know where she is.”
Juliet set the string on a nearby table and set the letters down. She stared at the hand on the address, strong and fine. A lady’s hand, for certain, but bold.
“Interesting,” she murmured.
“Why?” he asked, and suddenly he was right next to her, staring at the stack as if he could see something she had seen if he just loo
ked hard enough.
Juliet slowly turned through the pile, examining just the hand on the address for each letter. Sometimes it was shakier than before, but they were all clearly written by the same person. “If she didn’t care at all, she wouldn’t write. She would simply cut off communication.”
“Yes, so everyone says,” Gabriel said with another exhausted sigh. “But if she wanted to come home, why wouldn’t she let me know somehow?”
Juliet faced him. “May I open the letters? Examine their content?”
He drew back. “That is why I brought them.”
She touched his arm, feeling the muscles ripple when she did so. Distracting, but she forced focus. “I can see you are hesitant. These are private correspondence between you and someone you love so deeply. So I want to ask you.”
He nodded, though it was jerky. “Maybe you will see something I don’t. But…”
“But?” she encouraged him.
“Claire is a wonderful person,” he said. “She is a good person.”
Juliet sucked in a breath. He thought she wouldn’t like his sister. She squeezed his arm gently. “Gabriel, I will not judge. Not her. Not you.”
That vow seemed to help, for some of the tension left his face. “Very well.”
She opened the first letter in the stack, noting how worn the places where the paper had been folded were. She almost couldn’t read the words at those spots, it had been so well-used.
“You have opened these pages a great many times,” she said, careful to make her tone neutral.
He turned away, pacing off. “I could recite them by memory,” he admitted. “I have lost track of the number of readings. And yet I see nothing, I find nothing that can help her.”
“And you judge yourself for that?” she pressed.
He spun on her and his face was twisted with self-directed anger. “How can I not? I’m supposed to be the one in this family who thinks, who solves. And yet I can do nothing for the person I am bound to most strongly.”
“That isn’t your fault.”
He opened his mouth and shut it as her firm sentence seemed to sink in. “It feels like it is.”
“I’m sure it does. But you should know better than anything that sometimes our feelings are not facts.” Juliet held his gaze. “None of this is your fault, Gabriel.”
His nostrils flared slightly and for a moment that pain he hid so well came over his entire face. She felt it wash over her and her heart ached for him. But he quickly wiped the expression away and turned his back. “I will let you read.”
She nodded and focused her attention on the scrawled words before her. She could only hope she would find something to help Gabriel. Because in that moment, she wanted to help him more than she had ever wanted to do anything else in her life.
It had been an hour since Gabriel turned over the precious letters from his sister to Juliet. An hour of watching her as she digested the contents. Her face had revealed nothing of her response to what Claire said in those notes. She had said very little either, except for the occasional question. He had watched her scribble a few notes on a sheet of paper at her side.
What did she think? Of the situation? Of Claire? Could Juliet offer insight on a subject he was perhaps too close to? Or would she like Claire less for what she saw?
He found he wanted Juliet to like Claire. Though why, he couldn’t say. It wasn’t as if they would ever meet. Juliet would be long gone before he was able to get Claire home. The thought made him empty.
“Did you ever meet him?” Juliet asked, setting the stack of letters aside at last and rising from her seat at the escritoire to stretch her back.
He watched her do so, reminded of an elegant cat, but shook the thoughts away. “Him? Who?”
She turned her gaze on him, her eyes wide. “Aston, Gabriel. The man at the center of this disappearance.”
Gabriel pursed his lips. He tried not to think of Aston except when he had to. When he did, the rage got too strong. It made him incapable of thought. He didn’t like being incapable of thought.
“No,” he said softly and without further explanation.
Juliet must have sensed his suddenly high emotion in his tone, for her pupils dilated slightly and her body shifted. Indicators of caution, discomfort. He could see them so clearly and knew she wanted to reach out to him.
Still, her voice remained neutral as she said, “Hmm. I wonder what your opinion of him would be if you had made his acquaintance. Did anyone else in the family ever cross paths with him before he and Claire left together?”
Gabriel clenched his hands into fists at his sides. This was a tender topic, one that had nearly ripped yet another member of their family away. He still struggled with it.
“Audrey’s husband Jude knew him a little before Claire left,” he said, trying not to clench his teeth. “He inadvertently helped him.”
“Yes, I recall you saying that. Jude must have felt terrible about it.”
Gabriel nodded. “He did. Terrible enough that he almost lost Audrey, lost our entire family. I hated him for it when I first found out, but—”
When he cut himself off, Juliet stepped toward him. “But?”
“I realize he is a good man,” Gabriel admitted. “He didn’t do it on purpose. And I have already lost a sister, I couldn’t lose a man I have considered my brother for years, even before he and Audrey wed. Our family has been destroyed enough.”
She moved closer to him at last, but not close enough. “I can’t imagine how difficult this has been. But have you ever spoken at any length to Mr. Samson about Aston?”
He shrugged. “More about Claire than Aston.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you avoid all research of her husband?”
He flinched at that description of Aston. How he hated that Claire was bound to him forever. “No,” he said. “I know a bit.”
She nodded. “I wouldn’t blame you if you avoided discovering more about someone you hate and blame. But perhaps that would help us. Dig deeper, Gabriel. Talk to Jude if you think he will discuss it.”
Gabriel sighed. He could just picture Jude’s reaction when he brought up the subject. His brother-in-law would have pity in his eyes, just as everyone did when he talked about his desperate search. It wasn’t that they had given up on Claire. He knew Edward put resources into finding her. But they weren’t as driven as Gabriel felt he had to be.
“Very well,” he said.
“I would also suggest speaking to the servants,” Juliet continued.
“We did that,” Gabriel said with a sigh. “It was fruitless.”
“Of course you did. But do it again.”
He blinked in confusion at her insistence. “Why?”
“At the beginning, they might not have wished to get Claire in trouble by sharing little things they heard or saw. And later they wouldn’t have wanted to admit they lied or omitted something for fear of their employment being terminated. But now, after so much time, they could be ready, especially if you question them gently and give them the option to say they have simply ‘remembered’ new details rather than left them out intentionally before.”
He thought about that. It made sense, actually. Though it would be difficult for him to question someone and find out they had known details all along. Would he be able to remain calm in the face of that?
“I suppose you are right,” he said.
“Is Claire’s maid still on staff here?”
“No, she and Audrey shared a maid at the time of her disappearance. When Audrey married, she took the young woman with her into her new household.”
“That’s good, then, she will be easy to find,” Juliet said, and there was encouragement in her tone. “You could talk to her at the same time you spoke to Mr. Samson.”
He nodded and found himself examining Juliet even more closely. She was not so close to all this as he was. She still had faith where his had begun to falter. And he had a feeling
she might just be able to keep him grounded once he began questioning Jude and the others.
“Would you come with me?”
Her lips parted in surprise, drawing his attention to them. Even in this charged moment, he wanted to kiss her. He could imagine it perfectly, and also feel how it would sooth him to do so. Calm him.
“You wish me to go to Mr. and Mrs. Samson’s with you?” she asked.
“Yes.”
A pretty blush began to fill her cheeks and put him to mind of the way she flushed when they made love. It felt like forever since he had done that. Had it only been days?
“But—but then they’ll know I’m helping you,” she said.
“Yes, they would.”
She held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity. They both knew how big a step this would be. His family already pressed him on the subject of Juliet. She was too bright not to have noticed their stares. Once they saw the two were caught up in the investigation of Claire’s disappearance, their focus would only become stronger. He didn’t really care. But perhaps she did.
“Unless you don’t want—” he began.
She moved toward him. “No. I would be happy to come if you think I could be of help.”
He almost laughed. It seemed she was the only source of help to him anymore. He wanted to cling to her with both hands. He never wanted to let her go.
He pushed that thought aside and instead offered her an arm. “Then let us go now.”
“This very moment?” she asked.
He pursed his lips. “I have learned over the years, Juliet, that there is no time like the present.”
Chapter Fifteen
Juliet’s heart rattled in her chest like an animal freshly caged. With every rumble of the carriage closer to Audrey and Jude’s, her tension increased.
Audrey and Jude Samson were about to find out that she and Gabriel were working together. And that meant everyone in the entire family would know soon after, including Lady Woodley. And while that didn’t mean anyone would realize they were lovers, the exposure still felt intimate and private.
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