Celia whirled around. Gabriel was stalking in their direction. His features were etched of stone, but his eyes were alight with fierce concern.

She nearly swayed with relief as he came closer and Bryan, obviously realizing the danger for himself, retreated a bit. A gruesome semblance of a harmless smile pulled his gaunt face even tighter. He bowed at the waist in a grudging show of respect.

“Is something amiss?” Gabriel asked, his hand sliding under Celia’s elbow. He squeezed her there, probably not even aware he was practically holding her up.

“Um, no. He was merely curious as to whether or not I prefer to ride in the mornings,” Celia managed to say calmly.

“And why does one of the grooms have a need for this information?” Gabriel’s voice was calm, but a dangerous thread lurked there. He was suspicious and Celia scrambled for an explanation that would appease him.

“Apparently, at his last place of employment, the lady of the house enjoyed taking a morning ride every day. He wished to have a horse ready for me if that was the case.”

For a long moment, Gabriel said nothing as Celia held her breath. Head tilted, he studied Bryan’s face until recognition lit his gaze. “Ahh. Flannigan, right? I remember you approaching me at The Gilded Rooster recently. So, it appears Mister Kinsey had work for you, after all.”

Bryan executed a bow. “That he did, milord. Pardon me boldness in speaking with Her Ladyship. I mean well enough, that I do.”

Celia almost choked at his sinisterly innocent words but quickly recovered with a light cough. “I do believe the night air is turning disagreeable, Lord Rosenthorne. I’d like to go inside now.”

Gabriel’s inscrutable gaze remained on Bryan for a few moments longer before he said to Celia, “Yes, of course. Come along, then.”

Celia allowed her husband to lead her away, and she did not dare turn back to see Bryan’s reaction. She imagined his once handsome face was twisted with rage that his torment of her was interrupted.

Soaking in Gabriel’s strength, she took a deep breath. She needed guidance for the right words when reminding her husband of his promise of pin money. As for the bit of jewelry Bryan demanded, she would paw through her jewel case and find something of little value both monetarily and emotionally.

Without thinking, she twisted the wedding ring on her finger, conflicted about how she could obtain any meaningful funds in such a short timeframe. It was doubtful Bryan would be content with anything she gave him.

“What has you so worried now, petite femme?” Gabriel asked as they entered their suite of rooms.

“Nothing. I think tonight went exceedingly well, don’t you think?” Celia replied, tossing her reticule onto an occasional table.

Gabriel regarded her with an unblinking stare, his jaw setting itself in a stony line. “It did. But that is not what I asked you, is it?”

Celia forced herself to act surprised by his seriousness. “Whatever is the matter, my lord?”