day—which was no more than the truth. He’d been pleasant to her this evening, not cold but a little reserved. Even so, he’d made an effort to ask her about her day and to compliment her on her gown. She’d sat in muted agony, unable to respond naturally to his conversational gambits because of her stupid inability to open her mouth and speak.
And now he’d gone out.
Chapter 16
Perhaps it was the strain of the last few days, or even the past six months—or maybe the lack of exercise—but Gabriel was far too restless to go to bed. Nor was he feeling calm enough to deal with his wife just now. He promised himself he would not make this a habit—leaving her, especially without any explanation—but he simply did not have the patience for yet another baffling interaction with her. Nor did he wish to see her expression go flat and hostile as it had this morning. What had happened? One moment they’d been laughing and chatting—almost flirting—and the next her face had become rigid and she’d recoiled from him as if he were a poisonous serpent. He probably would have overlooked her behavior and persisted with his overtures of friendship if they’d not had such an emotionally draining few days. But he was too fatigued for more dramatics tonight.
It would be a good night to sleep alone. Tomorrow was a fresh, new day and he always woke with optimism. But tonight. . . well.
Gabriel had enjoyed making love to his wife last night and had looked forward to seeing her this morning. It had shocked him to realize that he was the only one of them prepared to be pleased with their marriage and forget how it had begun.
His young wife—he’d been surprised to learn—was a sensual, passionate woman in bed. But outside a bed? The barriers she had erected between them had been clear in the bright light of day: They were high and well fortified. She disliked him—or at least disapproved of him.
Gabriel shook away the thoughts, alternately feeling enervated and restless as he walked the darkened streets. When he’d been a boy, he could walk for hours and never see another soul. His father’s palace was on the outskirts of Oran. To the north and west was the ocean; to the south, the foothills and mountains and endless expanse of the Sahara.
London was, naturally, nothing like it. But after midnight the streets were quieter, the carriages and wagons no longer clogging every thoroughfare; clerks and vendors and park saunterers were home in their beds, at least most of them. While it was true pedestrian traffic was sparse—a few servants scurrying out on errands and young men moving from one entertainment to the next—the city by no means slept.
He considered going to Byer’s, but he found he didn’t wish to speak to his friend, either; he didn’t wish to speak to anyone. What he needed was time alone to think—especially about all the things he’d been avoiding. Things like his last trip to Oran—the trip only a handful of people knew of and which he’d avoided thinking about since he’d returned to England; things like bringing Samir down to Devon this summer. Every day he became more attached to the little boy. He was beginning to believe he could not relinquish him even if one of Fatima’s brothers or sisters sent a letter saying they would take him. And what if—
“Well, well—what have we here?”
The voice cut through his thoughts like a machete. Gabriel had to blink to clear his mind’s eye of disturbing images, but he knew whom it belonged to before he turned around.
He stared at Visel with disbelief. “Did you follow me?”
The other man laughed. He still wore his theater clothing and looked the epitome of an unruffled English aristocrat out for an evening of entertainment. But all was not serene beneath his unrippled surface. As usual, Gabriel sensed a lethal whirlpool of hatred, fury, and something like a lust for vengeance churning within the other man.
Visel was watching him with an intensity that was combustible. What was he looking for? And what the hell was he doing so close to Gabriel’s house—which was only a few streets over?
“I was not aware we were neighbors,” Gabriel said when the other man did not answer his first question.
Visel smiled. “I don’t live nearby.” He gestured with his chin to the street ahead. “I was visiting a friend not far away from here, on Gray Street.”
Gabriel didn’t