Gabriel stirred a little, muttering in his sleep, his brow creasing into a frown. She felt his hands clench into fists where they lay beside her, and worried that he dreamed of things that haunted him from his past as well.
She knew this man, his strength, his good heart, his gentle humour and his carefully concealed intelligence. She had some idea of the ordeals he’d suffered, and the familiarity he showed toward the gentlemen revealed more than just an ability to make friends.
The way he’d loved Evan, the way he’d sucked him so energetically—he’d enjoyed it, strange though it seemed to her. And yet he’d loved her every bit as enthusiastically, finally entering her, giving her his virginity, sinking himself to the hilt and loving every moment of it. There was no pretence that could have hidden the look on his face as he ultimately plunged deep inside her, settling there, letting the newness of it all sink in to his brain.
Surely Gabriel was a study in contrasts, a man with a huge capacity for love and no boundaries.
And he was as beautiful as the angel he was named after.
As if he felt her thoughtful gaze, the green eyes opened, blurry for a moment, then fastening on her face. “Hullo lovely lady.”
She smiled. “I was just thinking the same about you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Silly thing.”
“No seriously.”
“Yes, quite seriously. That’s so silly, but you are permitted the luxury of being silly because you’ve been injured.” He sat up carefully. “How do you feel, by the way?”
She moved, then eased herself upright, helped by his arm. “Like I need to relieve myself.”
“I’ll carry you.”
She sighed. “I don’t think so. But yes, you can stay right there. If I need help, I’ll shout for you. Will that suffice?”
He pouted. “I suppose so.”
“Good, because that’s the way it’s going to be.”
She surprised herself by accomplishing the task with little difficulty and proudly re-emerged from behind the screen to find Gabriel up and waiting for her.
“Can we go downstairs now? I’d like to let everyone know I’m well on the road to recovery.”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I will be carrying you. Very carefully, of course, but no stairs for you.” He held out his arms.
She looked at his strong muscles beneath his shirt, his firm chest and his encouraging smile. And then up to that glorious face, the silk white blond hair and those dazzling eyes.
“Oh well. If you must.”
He picked her up, settled her into his warmth and carried her downstairs. It was a rather nice trip.
I believe I’m going to insist on this every day from now on.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Giles noted Gwyneth’s arrival with a thankful sigh. Firstly, because she’d allowed Gabriel to carry her, and secondly because her colour had returned and she looked a great deal better than he’d anticipated.
This was the most important gathering he’d ever hosted here at Wolfbridge, so having everyone there in relatively good shape, was crucial.
Evan still had a couple of weeks to go before getting back to his full strength and now Gwyneth would also need some time to recuperate. But Royce had done a good job on both of them. And after today’s incident, Giles was more than ever convinced he’d made the right choice in picking him take over the reins of Wolfbridge.
Jeremy entered, a tray in his hands. “Tea. Cakes and tarts if you’ve a mind to nibble. Evan’s on the way, but I said I’d bring this up.” He looked at Gwyneth, comfortably settled with her feet up on the couch. “My Lady?”
She nodded. “Oh yes, please.”
Royce and Evan walked in together, and Royce headed directly for the cakes. “I missed lunch,” he said as he put two on a small plate and took them to a chair.
Evan chuckled and poured tea.
Gabriel arranged himself next to Gwyneth, taking her cup for her and putting it on a small table. “You’re not to bother that wound,” he said when she protested. “My job is to make sure you don’t.”
She sighed. She had learned that when he used that tone of voice, he was adamant and it would take a mountain to move him. “Very well. You might as well pass me a raspberry tart.”
Giles walked to the door and closed it. “Now that we’re all here,” he began, “I want to first extend my thanks to all of you for handling this morning’s events so smoothly. I’m only sorry we couldn’t save you your injury, my Lady, but we’re all here, pretty much in one piece, so I consider it a win for all of us.”
“Indeed,” agreed Gwyneth. “I owe you all my life several times over now. I’m not sure I have the right words to thank you, but…”
“We know, dear lady,” said Jeremy. “You don’t need to say a word.”
“Correct,” endorsed Giles. “And there’s a lot I have to say so let’s keep the conversation moving forward, if we can.”
Miffed, Gwyneth merely nodded.
“I have set enquiries in motion, my Lady, having to do with the disposition of your late husband’s estate. I’m prepared to assume that the present Earl is experiencing some kind of madness, given his outrageous behaviour. But on the off chance that there is some sort of secondary will that transcends the first, you should be informed. If action is necessary, we can see to it once we know.”
She nodded. “Yes, that sounds logical, Giles. I would be very surprised if Ernest’s allegations were correct, but it does pay to make sure we have the facts.”
“What are we going to do with him, Giles?” Evan looked serious. “I doubt any of us, especially my Lady here, wishes to appear in any kind of court, should we bring him up on charges.”
