of his thoughts. “Wait… you have a full servants’ quarters? A full staff, only for you?”
“Well…” Her lips twisted in adorable chagrin. “I couldn’t let any of them go, could I? Not when I could afford to keep them. It’s not their fault Cresthaven emptied out rather quickly. First Nora, then Pru, Mercy, and my parents… The staff rely on me for income. Should I put out the second cook who is raising her grandchildren? Or perhaps Heather, one of our upstairs maids, a widow who cares for her ailing father? Or Mrs. Winterton, who was once my governess, but is recently orphaned and destitute. Why, she pays for the schooling of her younger sister. I’d be a monster to let her go.”
“But have they anything to do?” he queried.
“Certainly.” Her eyes shifted as she searched her thoughts for an answer. “I mean… our silver has never gleamed so brightly, and I challenge you to find a speck of dust.”
Lord, but she was kind.
Her exceedingly gentle heart was what had set her apart from her twin in the first place. Mercy Goode was like a storm, whirling about with a charming and brilliant chaos that endlessly entertained and enchanted his brother.
Gabriel liked the woman, there was certainly no reason not to, but he was tired of chaos. His life had been one hurricane after another. One long and endless battle surrounded by subordinates equally as dangerous and untrustworthy as enemies.
Felicity was a cool and quiet breeze in contrast to her sister’s bluster. The gentle rustle of leaves, the swish of long grass, and the flap of a hummingbird’s wings.
She was the music that one must be still and quiet to hear.
And he appreciated her all the more for it.
Her heart was as large as the black hole swirling in his own chest, and he often wondered what it must be like to care so much. To feel so deeply. To love with such unabashed confidence.
Such trust and grace.
The self-conscious clearing of her throat made Gabriel painfully aware that he’d been contemplating her in silence for much too long.
“Well, here I shall leave you to be settled…” She tucked a stray tousled ringlet behind her ear.
“Miss Goode, I—”
“Would you join me for dinner at half eight? I would like to discuss the particulars of my— our— upcoming schedule for the season. I’m certain you’ll find it exceedingly tedious, but—”
“Yes.” He’d listen to the Iliad read in its original language if only to share a meal with her.
“Excellent. Good afternoon, Mr. Severand.” She held out her hand, though her timid gaze didn’t lift above his vest.
That was twice in one day she’d reached for him.
Holding his breath, he took her hand, afraid to put any pressure on the tiny bones of her elegant fingers. He shook thrice, forcing himself to let them go with an unstable exhale.
She directed a winsome smile at his cravat, and scurried away.
Gabriel shut the door and leaned against it, suddenly feeling as if he’d been released from some sort of velvet rope. A manacle chaining his body to hers. She could have walked him like a hound, and he’d happily submit to her leash.
She was going to destroy him. That’s all there was to it.
God. Why hadn’t he taken Raphael up on his advice to pay for a woman’s touch so long ago?
Regardless of what his face used to look like, he could have had a strumpet in the dark, he could have… done any sort of thing, really. And if he had, maybe the mere press of Felicity’s hand wouldn’t have him tied up in absolute knots.
He curled his fist around the ghost of her grip, savoring every whorl and ebb of gloveless fingertips.
“Cheever,” the trill of her sweet voice rang from down the hall. “Could I trouble you to check in on Mr. Severand? He’ll need to arrange for his things to be brought for an extended stay.”
“Of course, Miss Felicity, and I’ll set him a place in the servants’ hall for supper.”
“Actually, he’ll be joining Mrs. Winterton and me for dinner; we’ll have much to discuss.”
“Very good, miss.”
Could I trouble you… Who spoke to their servants in such a way?
Felicity Goode.
Looking around the guest room, he felt so strange… he was in her house. Inside the very place he’d watched for so long in the golden glow of the windows as he stood outside in the cold.
He’d have to remember not to get comfortable here. As soon as he put the severed pieces of