She glanced back up at Gabriel, her stomach fluttering. “Eliza spoke to me about her mother today.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened in surprise. A myriad of emotions crossed his face as silence followed.
Swallowing her hesitation, Evelina continued. “It happened after we found dear Whiskers. She seemed happy, content for a moment, and then she opened up.” She smiled at the memory. “Your Grace, she struggles with knowing so little about her mother. She believes she’s forever broken because of this loss.”
She heaved a sigh. “I understand it might be difficult, but you need to sit with your daughter and have a conversation abouther mother, as soon as you can.” She paused, and her tone grew softer as she implored, “I believe it would help her get closure.”
As she finished speaking, she gently placed the puppy down beside her. The room was enveloped in another silence. Her gaze lingered on Gabriel, but he avoided meeting her eyes, seemingly lost in his thoughts, his expression unreadable. Then, after a poignant pause, a deep sigh escaped his lips.
“I assume if I am to broach the subject with Eliza, I would need your aid on how to do so?”
Panic flashed in Evelina’s eyes, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I did not mean to say—I was not trying to tell you what to do, nor command you, Your Grace, I was only?—”
“I am well aware.” Gabriel’s soft chuckle was like a sweet melody slicing through her worry.
She watched him, awed by the way his smile transformed his handsome face, the way the firelight accentuated his features.
“I meant to say, if I’m to broach this subject with my daughter, you ought to hear of it as well. You have developed a close bond with her, and I am sure you would hear of it either way.”
“Oh, indeed.” There was not much else Evelina could say in the face of his handsome smile.
A short silence ensued, and then Gabriel sighed once more and shifted forward in his seat.
“The story is painfully simple. She was a great woman, the late Duchess. Beautiful and intelligent, not one to be told what to do,” he spoke wistfully, seeming to carry the weight of a past he had long kept buried. “When it all started, we were both young and didn’t want to marry, but our fathers insisted. We were promised to each other from the moment we were born—there was no avoiding it.”
He let out a sad laugh. “I was a young fool. I did not know how to stand up to my father. I did not wish to disappoint him. Perhaps there could’ve been… Maybe I could have done something—said something to stop it. But I didn’t try. I barely cared.”
His remorse and guilt were so thick that they were almost palpable. She wanted to speak, offer comfort, but she knew she should let him finish.
“Annabel. That was her name.” Gabriel drew in a sharp breath. “Annabel and I had an agreement, you see. We decided that once we had an heir, we would lead separate lives.” A faint smile played on his lips. “We did not have much in common—we barely liked each other, yet we were civil. We respected each other greatly, for many reasons.”
His gaze shifted to the fire fixed on the flames crackling in the hearth. “When she finally conceived, there was a sense of relief between us. Our plan we had crafted would finally come to fruition. I remember her smile, her excitement.” His voicedropped. “But fate had other plans. Shortly after Eliza came into this world, a carriage accident took Anna from us.”
Evelina could see him struggle to speak of his loss.
“She never had the chance to experience the freedom she longed for, the freedom we had promised each other. WhatIhad promised.” His eyes darkened. “And it was all my fault.”
Evelina’s chest tightened. She watched the sad man before her, doing her best not to allow her tears to spill over. “It was absolutely not your fault, Your Grace. You are not to be blamed for an accident. No one can blame you.”
Gabriel shook his head. “I stopped her from living her life, Evelina. All those years, she could have been out there, doing whatever she pleased. Yet, she had to remain home before our wedding, and not long after, she spent her time trying to conceive.”
He let out a sardonic laugh. “Tell me, Miss Balfour, how is that not my fault?” His face contorted in guilt. “I realized my mistake, eventually. I shall no longer act solely for duty’s sake… I refuse to remarry just to produce an heir.”
“Your Grace,” Evelina insisted, her eyes filled with empathy, “you can’t bear a burden that isn’t yours to carry. You?—”
“No,” Gabriel gently interrupted her, his expression a mix of regret and determination. “All I can do now is look ahead.”
Evelina watched the man before her, her heart breaking for him. “You say you wish to look ahead. But you can’t do that if you do not let go of the guilt,” she implored, her tone was desperate. “Your Grace, if you would?—”
“Evelina…” Gabriel shook his head. “All that matters now is Eliza’s well-being, nothing more.” His gaze softened. “I truly wish to be there for her, even though I don’t know how. This is all that matters.”
Evelina fell silent. Though she longed to offer more words to dissuade him of his belief, she recognized his need for space at that moment.
It is not yet the time.
Eventually, she mustered a playful smile.
“And I shall assist you in this endeavor, as we’ve discussed,” she promised, her tone light yet supportive,
