Why did he feel all the worse with her gone?

Chapter 12

The following morning, bleary eyed with exhaustion, her mind dulled with fatigue, Jane sat in contemplation of her meeting with Gabriel. How could she have been so very foolish as to believe there was anything warm, good, or kind about Gabriel, the Marquess of Waverly? The memory of that blasted kiss had thrown her logic into disarray. It had forced her to see past the curt, condescending lord to the man. In that, she’d seen warmth and pain and a gentleman who would not force his attentions upon her—a man who saw her as a person that mattered, regardless of her station.

What a fool.

And yet for the restored order of her thoughts about him, why could she only focus on one particular truth of that meeting in the early morn hours? He’d had his heart broken. There was no other explanation for his cynical grin and his emotionally flat words on the matter of love. Jane plucked at the pages of her book—the same poor, forgotten volume she’d muddled her way unsuccessfully through the prior evening. Lords and ladies didn’t know broken hearts and pained regrets. Their station protected them from hurts and uncertainties. Only, that is what she’d naively and foolishly believed.

Seeing Gabriel as he’d been last evening, a man haunted by his past and demons he’d likely never share with anyone, had torn asunder that erroneously drawn conclusion. It had also shaken her enough to see his icy indifference as a façade to protect himself. As one who adopted a disguise every day of her life, she easily detected it in another. In this case, it was Gabriel. Even as she wanted to hate him and consign him into the same detested category as every other lord. She could not.

“You are quiet, Jane.”

Jane glanced up and flushed. Gabriel’s sister occupied the chair opposite her. The young lady peered at her over the top of the book in her hands. “Forgive me. I was r—” She ended the lie. The closed volume on her lap was testament to that.

Chloe gave her a gentle look. A kind warmth filled the young woman’s eyes and all but begged Jane to share that which troubled her. To do so, however, would be both folly and scandalous. There was no place for Jane to know anything more about Gabriel, the Marquess of Waverly, her employer. Soon, her time here would be at an end. Perhaps sooner should her deception be uncovered. Her belly twisted in knots.

“What is it?” Chloe rested her book on her lap and leaned closer. The young woman was nothing if not persistent. Then her lips tightened on a moue of displeasure. “Is it my brother? Has he been rude to you? He’s ever so stodgy and commanding.”

“No.” The denial burst from her lips. Her cheeks warmed at that emphatic reply. “No. Your brother has been nothing but polite and proper.” The memory of his kiss burned across her mind.

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Chloe snorted. “That is an apt description of my eldest brother.”

Jane shifted her gaze to the closed parlor door and then back to Chloe. She’d not inquired about the marquess. Why, Gabriel’s sister herself had ventured forth details about the powerful nobleman. Surely, there was no harm in politely asking a question about the young lady’s question? “Has he always been so very—?”

“Dull?” Could anyone truly find the powerful young lord to be dull or stodgy as alleged by his sister?

“No.” She opened her mouth, but Chloe cut in, once again.

“Inflexible.”

A grin formed on her lips. Yes, a man who’d gauge her suitability in her role based on one meeting alone would certainly be at the very least considered, inflexible. “Serious,” she supplied instead, recalling him as he’d been with the brandy in hands and dark thoughts in his eyes. “Has he always been so very serious?” Some of the light dimmed from Chloe’s eyes and Jane bit the inside of her cheek at the shame in pressing the young woman for information about the marquess. “Forgive me,” she said hurriedly. “It was not my place to—”

“He has.” Chloe’s quiet words interrupted her apology. “Gabriel has long been the serious one. Alex, my other brother,” she said by way of explanation, “has always been the carefree, charming one.” A twinkle lit her eyes, driving back the earlier solemnity. “The papers purported he was a rogue.”




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