“You’re just as much a brother to Cedric as I am, Dunmore.”
The statement, though lighthearted, carried a sense of genuine affection and sincerity.
“Hmm.” The warm smile on Gabriel’s face mirrored Theodore’s.
For a moment, they seemed to dwell on the sweet sentiment—seen as brothers by the heavens.
However, the moment was interrupted as Theodore’s smile widened into a grin. He cleared his throat and tapped his nose nonchalantly. “Or cousin, relative—whichever the holy trinity deems fit, to be frank.”
“Ah, certainly, of course.” Gabriel cleared his throat and nodded. “One must remain truthful with these things lest they be struck dead, is it not?”
The two men shared a grin before bursting into laughter. In the ensuing quiet, a warmth enveloped the room once more, their bond and mutual respect palpable in the air.
Gabriel let out a contented sigh, finding himself somewhat grateful for their friendship. He let his eyes shift to the comforting artwork on the wall nearest to them.
When he heard his friend shifted in his chair however, his gaze returned to meet Theodore with a mischievous glint in his eyes, leaning close as he suddenly made his inquiry. “So, who’s this new tutor for dear Eliza, and why does the mere mention of her name irritate you so?”
Gabriel, feeling the weight of the question, paused. He knew this conversation was inevitable. He pouted, debating whether to answer or not.
After a moment of contemplation, he sighed heavily, releasing his pent-up frustration. “Her name is Miss Evelina Balfour, the Viscount Elderglen’s eldest daughter.”
As he continued to speak about Miss Balfour, he revealed that she was a surprisingly well-regarded spinster among the ton, responsible for her younger sisters and apparently making strides in Eliza’s education.
However, beneath the praise, his apprehension colored his speech, hinting at his unease and doubt about the tutor’s true intentions and character.
With a cluck of his tongue, he hesitated, his demeanor now clearly betraying his jitters and troubles.
Theodore, noticing the shift in tone, raised a curious eyebrow. “Well, Miss Balfour seems quite all right, from all you’ve said,” he remarked cautiously.
“But she is not. The woman isinfuriating!” Gabriel hissed, his frustration mounting again. Before Theodore could finish his sentence, Gabriel interjected abruptly, his frustrations mounting as he declared in a sharp, hushed tone.
“Thatladylikes to bicker, practically derives all her daily joy from it,” continuing in his quick hushed tone, he confided, “She looks innocent and even breakable, but she has a fire like none I’ve ever seen!”
His voice carried a mix of his awe and frustration as he struggled to articulate the paradox that was his daughter’s tutor.
As he continued sharing, the intensity in his voice grew, a quiet seethe evident in his words, “I can’t get a word out around her. She seems to find me the devil or something similar. She’s almost frighteningly quick and sharp with her responses.”
Through gritted teeth, he expressed his struggle, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
With a shake of his head, he delved deeper into his conflicting emotions, revealing, “Nearly every moment we spend in each other’s presence, I find myself lowering to argue and banter with her.”
He continued in his complaints, his admission hinting at the growing fascination and a subtle attraction that he was yet to fully comprehend.
Theodore however, did not look oblivious to this. And to Gabriel’s dismay, his amusement at his words was obvious in his smirk.
The duke slowly leaned forward, cutting Gabriel short as he humorously questioned, “Tell me, are you that frightened of the woman overhearing you speak this ill of her to share in such a quiet manner?”
“Pardon?” Caught off guard by his friend’s teasing, Gabriel felt a mix of surprise and offense at the implication.
With a scoff, he leaned away from the man, who sported a mischievous grin. “Of-Of course not!”
Sputtering slightly, he attempted to deny any concern, managing to assert, “In no certain terms am I bothered about-” His attempt to brush off the jest fell short as his tone instinctively quietened once more, “I am not concerned about what that woman thinks.”
As Theodore’s teasing brow raised in triumph, Gabriel’s realization and irritation grew, evident in the way his features twisted in annoyance. He scoffed again and turned his head away.
Having caught himself, he questioned internally why he had been speaking in hushed tones.
It wasn’t fear that drove him to whisper; it was the desire to keep his thoughts about the woman private, to prevent her from feeling she was important enough a topic of complaint between himself and a friend.
