Chapter Text
“Your Grace,” Nathalie said, approaching Gabriel as he sat at his desk in the country estate’s atelier. Rain pelted the windows in a summer storm. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
Gabriel set down his quizzing glass, a single magnifying lens that aided him in reading difficult papers. He smiled up at her. “You are always welcome to ask favors of me, Nathalie. I only wish you’d ask more.”
Nathalie wasted no time painting the lily. “I wish for Adrien to attend a preparatory school in September, so he can apply for Eton in three years.”
“No.” Gabriel said the first thing that came to mind, his knee-jerk reaction. “Does the education you’re giving him not suffice?”
“I fear it does not.” Nathalie gripped her skirts. “Eton is the school for a future Duke.”
“I don’t want him picking up bad habits.” Gabriel didn’t understand why this was so hard to understand. “What’s your real reason for asking this?”
Nathalie hesitated for the briefest of moments. She licked her lips, drawing Gabriel’s attention to them. He’d yet to kiss her, and though he knew those thoughts were inappropriate during a discussion, he couldn’t help but have them.
Finally, she spoke. “He’s lonely. He only has Chloe for a friend, and I’d like him to socialize more often. Without socialization, he’ll not grow up properly.”
Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. “Friends will only give him bad habits, like I’ve said. He has you and his governess and tutors to attend to his needs. That’s adequate.”
Nathalie straightened her shoulders, throwing them backward. “With all due respect, Your Grace, that is not adequate at all. Adrien needs peers his own age. Without them, he’ll--”
“I’ve said no.” Gabriel stood, slapping his hands on the desk. “Is this so hard to understand? I do not grant my permission.”
“Why not?” Nathalie set her jaw. “How can you pretend to know what’s best for the boy if you don’t spend any time with him?”
Gabriel looked away. “I spend plenty of time with the child.”
“No, you do not.” Nathalie flushed red hot. Gabriel could hear her teeth grinding in a very unladylike manner. “Adrien misses you. While you’re out riding, or whatever it is that you do, he languishes in his room.”
“And you think sending him to school will help?” Gabriel scoffed. His heart slammed behind his breastbone and his mouth was dry. “Don’t make me laugh.”
Nathalie trembled with poorly-repressed emotion. “You don’t know what’s good for him.”
Gabriel had had enough. “Don’t you dare interfere with my son!”
“Your son?” Nathalie snarled. “At least I pay attention to him!”
Lightning crackled outside the windows, and thunder followed with a boom so loud, it rattled the glass. Gabriel’s chest was heaving. He leaned into Nathalie’s space, baring his teeth. “How dare you?”
Gabriel pushed past her, speaking over his shoulder. “Clearly I’ve given you too many freedoms, Your Grace. We’ll discuss your duties when I return.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out.” Gabriel slammed the door behind him, leaving a distraught Nathalie behind. He strode into the foyer and outside into the storm, raising a hand to protect his eyes from the pouring rain.
How dare she? he seethed, ignoring the freezing cold wetness soaking his clothes. How dare she presume to know more than me about my own son?
Water splashed up around his slacks as he stomped through the pea gravel, staining them with muck. The maids would be doing his laundry later, so he felt just vindictive enough to make a mess for them to clean up.
He'd feel better if it was Nathalie doing his laundry. Then he could spite her.
Ridiculous woman! Gabriel continued stomping through the grounds, making his way into the less-coiffed part of the estate. The mire was thick there, and Gabriel's shoes were soon slick with it. The nerve! The absolute audacity!
Gabriel struggled to lift his foot in the fiercely sticky mud. It squelched between his toes, angering him further. Rain gushed in torrents, dumping on his head as if it, too, cared not a whit for his opinion.
The very presumption that she knows what's better for my son than I do… He stepped over logs and purposefully cracked smaller sticks beneath his feet. I never should have taken that deuced bet!
Gabriel railed against the sky, shaking a fist at the muted, grey heavens that had opened up on him with hail and ice. The grounds were dark; until lightning sizzled right next to him, he could barely see anything. “Whoa!”
Covering his ears from the deafening boom and blinking away the spots crawling in his vision, Gabriel considered what a precarious place he was in outside in the middle of a thunderstorm. Maybe I should go back.
He could go back. But he didn’t want to face Her Grace.
What a fool I am, he thought, which opened up an uncomfortable proposition he didn’t want to face. Was he being a fool about Adrien? Was it possible that Nathalie was right, and Adrien would flourish in school?
His conduct had been terrible. He’d snapped at his wife. He’d yelled at her. He’d shut her down before he’d even given her a chance to speak her piece.
That was not the man he wanted to be. Gabriel could at least hear her out.
And he had to get out of this storm. Being out here was not just foolish, it was dangerous.
Gabriel took off running in the direction of the mansion. But no sooner than he had taken three steps, he slipped on a rock, landing painfully on his behind and wrenching his ankle. Gabriel gasped, clutching the joint, which was already beginning to swell.
He grit his teeth against the tender ache and tried to stand, but fell back into the mud as soon as he realized the ankle would not hold him.
Gabriel cupped his hands around his mouth. “Help!”
His only hope was that Nathalie would be worried about him to send a servant to fetch him.
***
Nathalie was sick with worry.
She’d had an argument with Gabriel about Adrien potentially going to school, and the man had taken off afterwards into a raging thunderstorm. He’d yet to return, and hours had passed.
Ridiculous man! Nathalie paced in the country mansion’s foyer, glancing at the door. She’d never had a fight with her husband before, and if this foolish way was how he’d respond every time, she had no desire to have another one.
She’d already sent a search party of servants out an hour ago, expecting them to comb the grounds until they found him. The rain hadn’t let up, which she knew made visibility awful.
Nathalie had snapped at him. She’d yelled at him. She’d completely discounted his opinion as the master of the house and Adrien’s father.
That was not the woman she wanted to be. Nathalie could at least hear him out.
Her stomach churned, nausea lingering in the back of her throat. She would not vomit; unless she was pregnant--of which there was no chance as she hadn’t even kissed Gabriel--vomiting would be unseemly.
The door handle jiggled. Nathalie froze.
Jean, the butler, opened the door, Gabriel riding on his back like a toddler.
A wounded toddler.
“Gabriel!” Nathalie bustled to his side, her hands hovering around his face, which rested over Jean’s shoulder. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“I twisted my ankle.” Gabriel was white as a sheet. Nathalie brought her fingers to her lips, letting loose an unladylike gasp. “I cannot walk until it is mended.”
“Oh, my dear husband.” Nathalie coaxed him and Jean into the sitting room, where a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. After Gabriel was settled in a reclining chair, she sent Jean to warm up and inform another servant to fetch the surgeon.
Nathalie knelt by the chair, her blue skirts pooling around her. “Can I order you anything? A hot drink, perhaps?”
Gabriel closed his eyes. His lower lip quivered, drawing Nathalie’s attention there. “A hot drink would be lovely, thank you.”
Nathalie trailed her fingers across the back of his hand, causing him to open his eyes and look at her. His brilliant, blue gaze pierced her through and through.
She stood, aware she was being watched, and crossed to the bells. Ringing one, she summoned a female servant and ordered her to prepare a glass of warmed port.
Servant dismissed, Nathalie returned to Gabriel’s side. “Are you hungry, my dear?”
Gabriel gave her a pained grimace. “Nathalie. Enough. Aren’t you angry with me?”
Nathalie glanced at the floor, shame heating her cheeks. “I… I was. But after you were lost to me, I realized how foolish I was, and recognized that I should have respected you as Adrien’s father.”
Gabriel took her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. “No, my love, I was the one being foolish. I shut you down before even giving you a chance to plead your case.”
Hope swelled within Nathalie’s breast. She covered his fingers with his own. “Then you’ll consider…?”
“He can go to Eton.”
Nathalie was overjoyed. She wanted the very best for her son, having grown increasingly attached to the boy. On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed the corner of Gabriel’s mouth.
He blinked up at her, seeming stunned. “Nathalie…”
“Thank you, Gabriel.” Nathalie cupped his cheek, her hand warm against his cooled skin. “I appreciate this more than I can say.”
Gabriel grinned up at her, which Nathalie thought was entirely inappropriate for the tender moment. “If I’d known that’s what it would take for you to kiss me, I would have sent him to school ages ago.”
Nathalie scoffed. “Men.”
Gabriel laughed, color coming back into his cheeks. Nathalie smiled down at him, running her fingers through his hair. He leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed.
Nathalie had the sneaking suspicion that she loved Gabriel. Being affectionate with him didn’t only feel appropriate, it felt right. He clearly wanted her to touch him, and her fingers itched to caress his skin, to explore his face and neck.
She’d almost lost him. And he wasn’t out of the wood yet; Gabriel still could have caught hypothermia out in that storm.
“Gabriel.” Nathalie had to tell him what she felt. She must. She wouldn’t get another chance. “I love you.”
Of course she loved him. He was kind, generous, and provided well for his family. She relied on him, and he on her. They were husband and wife, and though he’d won her in a bet, he’d also won her heart.
Gabriel’s eyes opened, filled with shock. His lips parted, and Nathalie, to prove her point, pressed her own to them. The kiss was chaste, but filled with all the passion she could give him.
Gabriel cupped the back of her head, his questing fingers impossibly gentle. His mouth glided against her own, and as Nathalie drank him in, she realized his kiss was a promise.
He’d provide for her. He’d be her companion through thick and thin. He’d listen to her concerns and give her a place of importance in his life.
And she’d gladly stay with him.
Forever.
END PART I