A Gentleman Never Tells

chapter Nineteen

Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of joy you must have somebody to divide it with.

—Mark Twain

Shivering, Gabrielle flung open the front door to the town house. “Auntie, Rosa, Mrs. Lathbury, somebody quick! Come help us!”

Brent and Godfrey hurried in behind her, struggling to stay in step as, between the two of them, they carried the mastiff into the house. Gabrielle led them down the corridor toward the drawing room. The three of them had done their best to warm Brutus after they had found a hackney to bring them home, but it was difficult to do, as none of them had a dry thread in their clothing.

Gabrielle didn’t know what they would have done if Godfrey hadn’t happened upon them. He and Brent had lifted Brutus into his cart. They had raced across streets and taken shortcuts down alleyways until they found a carriage for hire.

Thankfully, a fire was lit in the drawing room. Gabrielle pulled Brutus’s giant pillow close to the fire, and they gently laid the dog down. His eyes were closed, but he let out a low, strangled woof. Her heart squeezed. She knew he was letting her know he was glad to be home.

Gabrielle rushed back to the corridor and almost ran into Mrs. Lathbury. “We need blankets,” Gabrielle said, peeling off her wet gloves.

The woman scampered away. Gabrielle hurried back to Brutus, untying her cloak with one hand and her bonnet with the other as she went. She flung the saturated garments aside and knelt on the floor beside her dog.

Brent rose and handed Godfrey a few coins. “There is enough here to pay the driver for bringing us here and to take you back to your cart. The rain has stopped, so I’m depending on you to get those other dogs returned to their owners before the afternoon is over.”

“You can depend on me, my lord.”

Gabrielle looked up at the wet young man and said, “Thank you, Godfrey. I don’t know what we would have done had you not helped us. Brutus is such a big dog.”

“That he is, my lady,” Godfrey said, “but I don’t need any thanks. I’ll be off now unless there is more I can do.”

Gabrielle looked at Brent. She didn’t like the look of concern that etched the corners of his eyes and mouth.

“Brent, perhaps we should send him after the veterinarian Papa uses for his horses when one is down. Maybe he can help Brutus.”

Brent’s expression was strained but his voice tender as he said, “I don’t think you need to do that, Gabrie. Brutus knows he’s at home, safe and warm now. That’s what he wanted. I don’t think he wants to be looked at or bothered by a stranger right now.”

Gabrielle knew what Brent was trying to tell her, and all she could do was deny the truth of his words by shaking her head and looking at her beloved dog. She heard Godfrey leave and felt Brent kneel down beside her, but she kept her gaze on Brutus, willing him to open his eyes and raise his head.

“Tell me Brutus is going to be all right,” she whispered.

Brent tenderly placed his warm hand over her cold hands. “I can’t do that, Gabrie. I don’t know. Don’t lose hope.”

“Gabby, what’s wrong?” Auntie Bethie said, rushing into the drawing room. “And who was that strange young man I just saw walking out the front door?”

“He helped us with Brutus, Auntie,” Gabrie said, looking up at her aunt, trying to hold back the tears that surfaced in her eyes and clouded her vision. “We got caught in the rain, and he collapsed. He’s so big we couldn’t lift him, we couldn’t find a cab, and the icy rain just kept pouring down on us.”

Auntie Bethie looked down at Brutus and then over to Brent. Gabrielle winced with soul-shattering pain because she knew what their exchanged glances meant. She wanted to cry so bad her throat ached, her chest heaved, but somehow she managed to control her emotions and not let them spill over into weeping.

“But he’s home now, dearie,” her aunt said, placing a comforting hand on Gabrielle’s soggy shoulder. “He’s on his big pillow by the fire, his favorite place to be. He’ll be all right now, no matter what happens.”

Mrs. Lathbury came rushing in with the blankets and Brent helped Gabrielle tuck them around Brutus. He hadn’t opened his eyes since he collapsed, and Gabrielle knew that was not a good sign.

“Gabrie,” Brent said softly, “you need to go to your room and get out of your wet clothing.”

She shook her head and rubbed behind Brutus’s ears. “I’m not leaving him until I know he’s going to be all right.”

“Be sensible, Gabrie,” Brent said. “If you catch a chill, you won’t be able to look after Brutus.”

“You are just as wet as I,” she said without looking up at him.

“But I am a strong man, and you are a gentle lady. I will stay right here and not leave Brutus until you return. Mrs. Potter will stay too, right?”

“Of course. I will do anything.”

Gabrielle shook her head again. She glanced at Brent and appreciated the concern he had for her and for Brutus. Unwanted tears pooled in her eyes but somehow, once again, she kept them from spilling. “I’m not leaving him. Don’t you understand I’m afraid he might die while I’m away, and I couldn’t bear it if I wasn’t here with him?”

“Oh, dearie,” her aunt said in an unusually soft voice. “Here, at least get out of that soaked pelisse and step out of those wet shoes. You, too, Lord Brentwood. This is not the time to stand on ceremony. Out of that wet coat you’re wearing so your shirt can dry. You’re both going to catch a chill. Hand them to me, and I’ll hang them before the fire.

“Mrs. Potter,” Brent said, handing her his coat and waistcoat, “why don’t you have someone prepare her hot chocolate with a little brandy in it? That should warm her up quickly, don’t you think?”

“Indeed, it will,” Auntie Bethie said in a stronger voice. “I’ll see to it right now.”

“No, Auntie, please,” Gabrielle said, handing off her soggy pelisse. “I really couldn’t put anything in my stomach right now.”

“All right, dearie, we’ll wait a little while.”

“Oh, Gabby, there you are,” Rosabelle exclaimed, hurrying into the room. “I thought I heard you calling me. I didn’t think you would ever get home. Where have you been?” Rosa skidded to a stop beside her aunt. “My lord.” She curtseyed to Lord Brentwood and quickly turned back to Gabrielle. “I must talk to you alone. I have something to share with you that you simply won’t believe. Let’s go to my room.”

Lord Brentwood rose and said, “Lady Rosabelle, now is not a good time for your sister. Brutus is not well. Perhaps you could hold off with whatever you wanted to talk to her about until she can see to Brutus.”

Rosabelle’s gaze darted from Lord Brentwood down to Brutus. She frowned. “Oh, my, yes, of course.” She backed away. “He doesn’t look good, does he? What’s wrong with him?”

“We’re not sure,” Brent said.

“It appears he’s sick.” She stared down at Brutus. “I don’t think he’s breathing.”

Gabrielle sucked in a loud breath, wanting Rosa to go away. She couldn’t deal with her right now.

“He is breathing,” Brent said tightly.

“Oh, well, I’m sure you know about that better than I do. I’m just going to leave you alone, Gabby. You know I simply can’t bear situations like this.”

“Rosa,” Auntie Bethie said, “I was just going out. I’ve decided which house I’m going to lease, and I need to let the owners know. Why don’t you go with me to make all the arrangements?”

“Yes, Auntie, I believe I would like that. We’ll talk later, Gabby, after Brutus is better.” Rosa quickly fled the room.

Gabrielle looked up at her aunt and mouthed a “thank you.”

Her aunt turned to Brent and said, “You’ll be here with Gabby, won’t you, my lord? I think it best if I get Rosa out of the house for a while.”

“So do I,” Brent agreed. “And don’t worry, madame, I’m not leaving Lady Gabrielle.”

“Good. I’ll tell the staff you’re not to be disturbed, and I’ll entrust her to your care.”

Gabrielle heard her aunt leave the room, but she couldn’t take her attention off Brutus. Beneath the blankets, she could see his breathing was slow and labored. She wanted him to rise and look at her. She wanted him to bark, sniff, and lick her hand as playfully as he had when a puppy, but all he did was lie there so still. She would give anything to help him right now. She wanted to give him back his youth, to turn back the clock so he could be the fierce protector he once was, but all she could do was stay by his side and stroke his head.

For a moment, she was angry that the warmth of the room and the fire had heated her body and already had her clothing drying. She was angry that Rosabelle was so happy and her aunt was leasing a house. It seemed so unfair that life was moving on, going forward, and her Brutus wasn’t.

“He’s not in any pain, is he?” she managed to look over at Brent and ask without her voice breaking.

“No,” Brent said, adding some wood to the fire and then stoking it before glancing back at her with caring eyes and a sympathetic expression. “He’s peaceful.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want him to be in pain.” She paused for a moment and then added, “I don’t know what I will do without him.”

Brent took hold of her hand again and squeezed it as his gaze swept down her face with compassion. “Don’t think about what might happen; just keep good thoughts.”

She smiled gratefully at him. A few minutes later, she heard Rosa and Auntie Bethie chatting in the front hall, and then the front door open and shut. It was then, knowing they were alone, that Brent pulled her into his arms. She melted against him, resting her cheek against his damp shirt as she continued to stroke Brutus’s head and rub behind his ears.

“Thank you for staying with me.”

He kissed the top of her damp hair, sighing heavily. “I wouldn’t leave you, or Brutus, right now, Gabrie. I know it’s my fault Brutus collapsed. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have had it happen for anything.”

She raised her head and looked into his warm golden-brown eyes. She wasn’t sure she could talk, but she managed to say, “This wasn’t your fault. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. You told me it wasn’t a good time to bring him and I forced you to do it.”

“No, he was fine until he ran to help me when Godfrey hit me. Brutus’s big old heart just couldn’t take the exertion. It was too much for him.”

In that moment, Gabrielle was filled with so much love for Brent it swelled in her chest and throat, and she didn’t know if she could contain it.

“Neither of us asked him to do it. You were good to him, and he wanted to protect you.”

“Even at his age, he was fearless.”

Brent’s words were so touching, Gabrielle had to hide her face in his warm chest again, needing and drawing strength from the consolation he was so generously giving.

“And I’ve known for a long time that his days were short, but I’ve not wanted to accept it. He’s lived well beyond most dogs his size. My heart aches for him,” she said against Brent’s chest, not knowing or caring if he could understand her muffled words. “I just want to turn back the hands of time and renew his youth.”

“But life doesn’t work that way for any of earth’s creatures,” he whispered against her cheek. “It’s all right if you want to cry, Gabrie.”

“No,” she answered, finding such comfort in his embrace it was almost too much to take in. “I don’t want to.”

Gabrielle sat quietly while Brent held her, half of her face hidden by Brent’s strong chest but one eye staring at Brutus. She kept her gaze on her dog until his chest slowly stopped moving beneath the blankets and his lids stopped twitching.

Pushing out of Brent’s arms, she whispered, “He’s gone.”

Brent threw the blankets aside and bent over Brutus. He laid his head to the mastiff’s chest and listened. He raised his head and looked at Gabrielle.

“I’m sorry.”

She couldn’t bear the sympathy she saw in Brent’s face. A breathy sigh of despair pushed forth from her aching lungs and she could no longer hold in the tears. All she could think was that she wanted to run away from the pain of loss. She stumbled to her feet. Brent called her name and tried to grab her arm, but she broke free and fled the room.

“Gabrielle,” he called again.

The sound of running feet echoed behind her, but she didn’t stop. She needed to get to her father’s book room so she could hide and cry as much and for as long as she wanted to. She slammed the door shut and fell onto the floor in front of the settee and laid her head on the seat cushion. Burying her face in her hands, she poured out her heart through wracking sobs and endless tears.

She didn’t know how long she cried, and she never heard the door open, only felt a warm masculine arm go around her back. She recoiled from Brent’s touch, but he caught her to his chest and held tightly. She struggled to get free, demanding to be let go, but he put his hand to the back of her head, cupping her to his chest and forcing her to be still and accept the comfort of his embrace.

“I’m not leaving you alone, Gabrielle,” he whispered, hugging her close.

Brent kept whispering he wouldn’t leave her. But he was. He’d told her he was going back to Brentwood. He was leaving her, leaving London. She had lost Brutus, and Brent too. Her heart was so broken she did the only thing she could do. She buried her wet face in Brent’s neck and wept again.

She cried for Brutus and for herself. She cried for the loss of a mother she never got to know. She cried because her father had never really learned how to love her. And she cried because she knew, even though she had tried desperately to push Brent away, what she really desired was for him to love her and to want to marry her. He had given her what she said she wanted—her freedom and his to marry whomever they wished. But now she knew Brent was the man she would choose to be her husband.

Brent laid his cheek against her hair and ran his hand soothingly up and down her back, over her shoulder, and around her neck as they sat on the floor in front of the settee. He patted her arm, kissed the top of her head, and brushed his fingers along the side of her face. In a husky voice, he caressed her with comforting words and gave her protection in his strong embrace.

As her sobs faded and her tears dried, hearing the steady beat of his heart against his chest consoled her weary and distraught mind.

Slowly, her strength returned.

Gabrielle lifted her head. After a long intake of breath that ended on a shaky sigh, she noticed the fire burned low, giving peaceful warmth and a golden glow to the afternoon shadows that filtered through the windowpanes. She caught Brent’s expression and saw he was filled with pain, too, and in that moment she knew he needed to be in her arms as much as she needed to be in his. All the emotions swirling around inside her were impossible to fathom, so she didn’t try. She didn’t know why, but in her grief she wanted this intimate contact with Brent. For some reason, she had a strong desire to feel alive.

Gabrielle touched the injured corner of his mouth where Godfrey had hit him. It was the third time his lip had been cut in that spot since she’d known him. “Does it hurt?”

“Like hell,” he said with a lopsided grin. “But I can take it.”

“Good.” She smiled and then whispered, “Kiss me.”

Brent looked down into her eyes as he brushed her hair away from her face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, even though I locked the door when I came in.”

“No one will bother us.” Gabrielle pleaded again, “Kiss me, Brent.”

He slid a hand to the back of her neck and cupped it. “Don’t ask this of me, Gabrie. You’ve been through a lot today. This is not the time for me to be showing you how much I want you.”

She moistened her lips and swallowed hard. “But don’t you understand, Brent? I need you right now. I desperately need your strength and your touch.”

“Damnation!” he whispered and covered her mouth with his. His kiss was fierce but much too short.

She wound her arms around his neck as his lips found hers and moved tenderly over them. He cupped each side of her face with his hands and kissed her nose, her cheeks, and her closed eyelids. He kissed her lips again and again before letting his burn a trail down the slender column of her throat and back to her face. She entwined her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, lifting her chest up to his and drawing strength from the passion he gave.

Their tongues swirled in each other’s mouths as their bodies strained to get closer. Without really knowing why, she started pulling the tail of his damp shirt from the waistband of his trousers. All she knew was she wanted to feel his skin beneath her hands.

“Yes,” she heard Brent murmur into her mouth as her fingers found the warmth of his body. She splayed her hands and shot them up the length of his gloriously muscular back. She loved the power she felt in his firm, broad shoulders.

Their kiss deepened and turned desperate as he captured her lips with his again. His tongue explored inside her mouth with eager yet soothing strokes. Brent’s hands moved up her rib cage to fondle her breasts. His fingers searched for and found her nipples hidden beneath the layers of her clothing. At his touch, they puckered and rose. Ripples of desire tightened across her breasts and shot pleasure down her body to settle into her most womanly part.

Gabrielle moaned softly.

A few moments later, his lips left hers. Brent’s hands stilled. He sighed and let his forehead lean against hers as he fought to control his labored breathing.

“This is going way too far, Gabrie,” he mumbled. “I’m not such a beast as to be so insensitive as to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

Her heart lurched with love, with wanting. He had always been a gentleman with her, and she shouldn’t expect any less of him now.

“You aren’t,” she whispered earnestly. “Earlier today you told me you were giving me the freedom to choose whom I wanted. And I’ve known for some time now I want you.”

“Don’t tease me. You have been doing your best to make me walk away from you for weeks now.”

“I know, but that was because I’ve always been ashamed of how forward I was that morning we met, ashamed you were humiliated and treated like a common footpad, ashamed my father forced you to say you would marry me. You deserved your freedom as much as I wanted mine.”

“None of those things mattered to me. They never did, because the harder you tried to push me away, the more I was determined you would be mine. Don’t you know the reason you couldn’t get rid of me is because I’ve fallen irrevocably in love with you? And because I love you so much, I had to give you the one thing you wanted from me, your freedom to choose whom you wanted to marry.”

Gabrielle gasped.

Had he said he had fallen in love with her?

Yes! He loves me!

Her love for him, knowing he loved her, welled up inside her. Gabrielle felt as if her heart burst open like spring’s first rose. She loved him for never getting angry with her for all the ridiculous things she put him through. She loved him for helping her with Brutus and never once complaining. She loved him for telling her he wasn’t going to force her to marry him.

“If I am free to choose, I choose you. I love you, my lord, and I want only you. Don’t deny me the comfort of your love right now, Brent.”

“Gabrielle, this is not the time to tempt a desperate man. Do you really want to be mine for the rest of your life? There will be no going back if we go further right now.”

She smiled. “I love you, Brent. Make me yours.”

She slid her hands back under his shirt and moved them up his rippled ribs, brushing over his smooth, tiny nipples. She heard Brent’s hissing intake of breath, as if she caused him pain, and stilled her hands.

“Does that hurt too?” she asked.

“No, my lady, but it is torture for sure. If you want to touch me, please touch me wherever you wish.” He quickly untied his neckcloth, wound it from around his neck, and slung it away. He yanked the rest of his shirt out of his trousers and pulled it over his head, sending it the way of the neckcloth.

Gabrielle’s breaths quickened at the sight of his strong chest. Firm muscles filled out his skin. A patch of light brown hair showed low on his stomach just above the waistband of his trousers. She looked at his broad shoulders with awe and touched him again.

She smiled at him. “You are magnificent.”

He chuckled softly, and she gazed into his warm brown eyes, enjoying the delight she saw in their depths.

He reached over and covered her mouth in a brief but passionate kiss. “You must play fair, Lady Gabrielle. I must look at you, too.”

She turned her back to him. He kissed her nape and across her shoulders as he quickly made short work of unlacing her bodice. His lips on her back sent chills of pleasure skipping along her spine. She faced him and helped him slide the long velvet sleeves off her shoulders, down her arms, leaving the fabric to puddle around her waist. They did the same with her sleeveless shift.

“We don’t have enough time for me to completely undress you. I want to give you lingering kisses, loving touches, and sweet words, but your aunt will be—”

Gabrielle stopped him by putting her finger to his lips. “I know. Just kiss me, touch me, and whisper to me. Show me what it is I’ve been wanting since I first saw you standing in the mist.”

“With pleasure,” he whispered. He gently reached into her stays and lifted first one breast and then the other out of the fabric, letting them billow above the undergarment. A tremor of expectancy shivered through her as he looked at her with appreciation in his gaze.

“You are beautiful,” he said huskily, letting his fingertips glide easily from one side of her chest to the other, from the gentle swell of one breast to the other, and down to her very sensitive nipples. “Your skin is smoother than silk or satin.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and gasped as he bent his head and kissed the hollow of her throat, teasing her skin with his tongue. He palmed both breasts and lightly squeezed them, filling her with wonderment.

Her head fell back and her chest arched forward. He kissed her shoulders, her neck, and her chest before finally letting his mouth cover her breast. She sighed contentedly, knowing she had wanted him to share this intimacy with her. His tongue circled her nipple, bathed it, and then gently drew it fully into his mouth. Gabrielle felt the most wonderful sensation bloom and blossom inside her, and her senses reeled in delight.

“Mmm,” he mumbled. “I love the scent and taste of your rain-washed skin.”

Her breasts tightened and her abdomen quivered with anticipation. Tremors and shivers tingled along her spine again, down her abdomen to settle and gather between her legs. She wound her arms around his neck and head, hugging him to her, and gave herself up to the exquisite feeling he was giving her.

“I never knew I could feel this way,” she whispered.

He raised his head and sought her lips. “Just wait,” he breathed into her mouth. “There’s more, so much more. I wish I had the time to show you all I want to, my darling.”

He gently laid her on her back on the softness of the rug. He stretched his warm body beside her. He rose on his elbow and let his gaze drink her in. He looked into her eyes for a long moment before his gaze drifted down her face and lingered over her breasts before sweeping back up to her eyes again.

“There’s still time to say no. We can wait until we are married.”

She smiled as she reached up and ran her hand across his muscular chest. “I don’t want to say no. Just kiss me, my love.”

And he did.

Brent rose over her and seared his lips to hers. He propped himself up with one hand while the other slowly inched her skirt and shift up her legs, bunching the cloth around her waist. He found the waistband of her drawers, and on instinct she lifted her hips and helped him slide the garment to her feet to kick away. Suddenly his hand found the warm spot between her legs and he cupped her.

Startled, she jerked.

He stopped kissing her and gazed down into her eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”

This was the man she loved and wanted to marry. She touched his cheek with her fingertips. “No.” In answer, she lifted her hips and pressed into his hand. “I don’t know what you are doing to me, but I don’t want you to stop.”

“It might hurt the first time,” he said as his hand and fingers continued to fondle her, stroke, soothe, and excite her all at the same time.

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and nodded, but wondered how such heavenly sensations could turn into pain. “I’ve heard that.”

“And you’re sure you want to go forward?”

“Have no worries on that, my love.”

Brent smiled and lowered his head and caught the rosy tip of her breast into his mouth. With his tongue, he sampled her heated skin over and over again, and she delighted in every touch and each new and building sensation.

Her hands roved over his back, his shoulders, down his buttocks, and back up again. She eased her hands around to his chest, to his nipples again, where she teased them by raking her thumb across them. She explored his narrow hips and firm, rounded buttocks. With eagerness, she then moved her hands down to the front of his trousers and was amazed by the hardness she felt beneath them.

Brent murmured his delight. “I love the feel of your hands on me,” he whispered. “Unbutton my trousers. Slide them off my hips.”

She slipped the garment past his lean, warm hips.

Gabrielle smiled and gave herself up to the worshipful way he caressed her, kissed her, and treated her. She savored every sensation, every tender caress. The gentle, gliding movements of his hand on her body thrilled her, and she never wanted him to stop. Suddenly, Gabrielle gasped and arched into his hand with a jerking motion. She buried her face into his shoulder as waves of explosive sensations tore through her with gripping speed before fading into pleasant, languid ripples.

“Brent.” She whispered his name softly before collapsing back down onto the rug with no breath left in her lungs, no strength in her muscles.

With no time to catch a breath, Brent settled his body over the length of her as his mouth covered hers. His lips were moist, hot, and demanding. He kissed her deeply, roughly, crushing her body and her lips beneath his. With his knees, he opened her legs and then pushed inside her.

Gabrielle jerked and gasped loudly, not expecting such sharp pain. She trembled and twisted beneath him.

“It’s all right,” he whispered against her lips. “Remember, you knew it might hurt the first time.” He kissed her gently and moved slowly. “Stay with me, Gabrie, and it will get better. I promise.”

And it did.

He made love to her with gentleness that overwhelmed her. His movements were slow, sensual, and reverent. He kissed her, stroked her body, and moved so gently on top of her that, before she knew what was happening, she once again gave herself over to an indescribable pleasure that kept mounting between her legs.

She joined the hungry rhythm of his hips meeting hers, his body moving in and out of her with long, sure strokes that grew stronger, fuller, with delicious sensations, until she stopped and cried out, breathless with exquisite gratification.

She heard Brent’s breath quicken, felt him tremble, and she gloried in pleasing him in this way. Brent covered her mouth with his in a bruising kiss. As her body shuddered, he slid his arms under her back and cupped her to him.

He lay still and heavy upon her, breathing deeply. Her hands made a slow trail over his back, down to his buttocks and up to his shoulders again. She wanted to hold him forever in this moment but knew she couldn’t.

Gabrielle was the first to stir. “I’ve never felt such extraordinary feelings,” she said on a contented sigh. “It was so much more than I expected.”

“For me, too, my love,” he answered. “And all I can think right now is I want to enjoy the same feelings over and over again. But we can’t. Your aunt and sister will return soon.”

She cupped his cheek with her hand. “I know.”

He rose on his elbows and looked down into her eyes. “Are you all right with what we did, Gabrie?”

She smiled. “I’m very much all right.”

He nodded and rolled away from her and started straightening his clothing. Gabrielle sat up and started the task of tidying her clothes as well. They worked quietly until he saw her trying to tighten the lacing at the back of her bodice and he said, “Let me do that.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and turned her back to him.

“While you repair your hair, I will get Muggs to help me with Brutus.”

Instantly, fresh tears flooded her eyes. A lump formed in her throat. Reality returned. She faced him and said, “Thank you.”

“Is there a special place you would like for us to take him?” Brent asked.

She tried to swallow, but it was too difficult. He reached for her hand and helped her to stand. “There’s a place in the back garden Brutus was fond of and he can rest at peace there. I’ll show you and Muggs. I should like to have a short service for him. Will you come back tomorrow morning? Maybe just before noon?”

“I’ll be here.” He lightly squeezed her fingers. “Gabrie, we need to talk about us.”

She nodded. “We will, but not now, please. First I need time to bury Brutus.”

“I understand.”

Brent walked over to her father’s sideboard and poured brandy into a glass and brought it back to her.

“Drink this while I get Muggs,” he said. “Drink another before you go to bed tonight. You will sleep more easily. I’ll see you tomorrow. This will be the last time I see you alone tonight, since Muggs will be with us, but remember I love you, Gabrielle.”

She had such an overwhelming tenderness for this man she loved so deeply. He had given all she had asked for, all she needed—love, passion, and consolation during her grief. She would never make him sorry he put his trust and love in her.