Page 38 of The Lady's Forbidden Marquess
“Shall we, then?”She offered her hand.
“Yes, of course.”Gabriel struggled to compose himself; it was an odd sensation, not feeling in command of oneself, especially when one was known for such a fact.
He began leading Lady Peregrine up the stairs, around the lingering gentry, till they turned down the hall leading toward his box.The lights dimmed in the theater, and the hall lights flickered dimly, shadowing their path.
Lady Peregrine’s footsteps halted, and Gabriel paused, turning to her.Even in the soft flickering light, her expression was shocked, her brows raised and her lips still forming the shape of her gasp.“No,” she whispered a moment later, turning to him; she gave her head a little shake.“I… impossible.”She took a slow breath.“My apologies.”
“Are you well?”Gabriel asked cautiously, studying her expression.
Her face was a canvas of confusion and disbelief, her eyes wide with a vulnerability that tugged at his heart, urging him to protect her from whatever had caused such a reaction.
“Yes, of course, I… I just thought I saw someone.”Her voice trembled slightly, a rare crack in her usual composure, and it stirred a fierce need in him to understand her distress.
“May I ask who?”Gabriel turned his attention to the dark hall ahead and the small staircase that exited to the foyer at the end of it.
The shadows danced across the walls, the flickering gaslights casting an eerie glow that seemed to mirror the uncertainty in Pere’s eyes.
“Actually, my mother.But she hated the theater… it’s why we never attended.”Pere’s tone was confused, her brows still knit in the dim light.
Her words carried a weight of hurt, a reminder of Lady Devon’s aloofness, and Gabriel felt a pang of empathy for the pain she tried to conceal.
“Are you certain it was her?”He kept his voice gentle, sensing the depth of her shock, his own heart quickening at the thought of her mother’s unexpected presence.
“Quite.But she wasn’t alone either; it’s… just very strange.”Her eyes darted back to the staircase, as if hoping to catch another glimpse, her fingers tightening on his arm in a silent plea for reassurance.
Gabriel nodded.“Do you wish to seek her out?We can certainly find her if she is in a box—”
“No, she disappeared down the hall.”Her voice was firm now, but the tremor beneath it betrayed her turmoil, a mix of shock and longing that made Gabriel ache to ease her pain.
“To the back stairs.It’s not likely we would catch up, unless… you wish me to go ahead and determine if it was her?”Gabriel offered, an instinct telling him that it mattered to Lady Peregrine.
And if it mattered to her, it mattered to him.He watched her closely, noting the way her lips parted, as if weighing the risk of pursuing the truth against the comfort of denial.
“No, I don’t want to miss any more of the third act; I apologize for detaining us.”She offered him a smile, but it was strained, a fragile mask over the confusion that lingered in her eyes, and it struck him how deeply her mother’s neglect wounded her.
She followed his lead back to the box.Nodding to Henley and Lady Anna, Gabriel took his seat beside Lady Pere, but the magic had dissipated, and rather than rapture on Lady Peregrine’s face, it was concern and confusion.Her gaze drifted to the stage, but her thoughts were elsewhere, lost in the shadow of her mother’s unexpected presence, and Gabriel felt a surge of protectiveness, a desire to shield her from the pain that threatened to dim her light.
As the orchestra swelled, Gabriel leaned closer, his voice a whisper meant only for her.“If you wish to speak of it later, my lady, I am at your service,” he murmured, his tone soft but earnest, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the rake.
Lady Peregrine turned to him, her eyes softening for a moment before she nodded, a silent acknowledgment that deepened the bond between them.The theater’s grandeur faded, and in that moment, it was only the two of them, bound by a shared vulnerability that neither could yet fully name.
Yet even as the curtain fell on the final act, Gabriel’s pulse thrummed with the echo of her fingers in his.The mystery of Lady Devon’s shadow lingered like smoke, but it was Pere’s quietThank youas they parted that burned brightest—a fragile bridge over the chasm of his past deceptions.He would cross it.He had to.For the first time, the truth didn’t feel like a blade—it felt like salvation.
Chapter Fifteen
Pere sat inthe sun-dappled parlor of their townhouse, the morning light filtering through lace curtains to dance across the Persian rug, casting delicate patterns that did little to soothe her restless spirit.The room smelled of fresh scones from the tea tray Anna had brought in earlier, a comforting aroma that now felt at odds with the tension thickening the air.She had been attempting to lose herself in a novel—something light and frivolous about country dances—but the words blurred as her thoughts wandered back to Drury Lane, to Gabriel’s hand laced with hers in the dim light of the box.
“Pere, dear.”Anna’s voice had a tone that set off warning bells in Pere’s mind.
She lowered her book and glanced up, immediately on edge.“Yes?Why are you talking with that tone?Should I be afraid?”She said it jokingly, hoping she was making more of it than needed, but Anna’s expression didn’t shift to a grin; rather, her brow pinched, and she glanced to the door as Henley strode into the parlor.“Oh dear,” Pere whispered and straightened her posture.“Who died?”
Henley froze, his brows furrowing.“Good Lord, no one.Why do you ask?”
Anna frowned, and Pere sighed.
“You both look so very serious.”
“Well, it is serious.But not morbidly so.Heavens, Pere,” Anna replied.“I just heard some news that I need to tell you.”Anna’s eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were shadowed with concern, her hands twisting the fringe of her shawl—a rare tell of her unease.
