Bryan would never leave. Of that, Celia was certain. He would blackmail her over and over, tormenting her until she either wasted away from guilt or Gabriel left her behind in her misery while pursuing his place in society unimpeded. She would become a forgotten, abandoned wife.

As Gabriel’s own mother had once been.

Celia dashed the tears from her cheeks. There was only one thing that could be done.

She must eliminate Bryan Flannigan on her own.

CHAPTER 40

Gabriel flipped through the pages of the list he’d ordered of the estate’s new employees.

Most had worked at several different places over the years while others were considerably more stable. The ones bouncing around held his attention, however. Those individuals could prove problematic over time, having moved from employer to employer for one reason or another. Some had been sacked while others quit of their own volition.

For that purpose, he’d sent out his contacts into the underbelly of London, finding out as much as possible about the employees on this list. There were eighteen requiring closer scrutiny, and this was Gabriel’s first chance to look them over.

Rubbing his brow, Gabriel pondered the reason for his own delay in this task. Neither he nor Celia were sleeping very well. Celia’s frequent nightmares, along with her renewed refusals to sleep in the dark, were wearing them both to a frazzle.

It was perplexing, this change in her. Gabriel wondered if the pressure of being a marchioness, of being his wife in particular, contributed to the problem. She was deeply concerned about his acceptance in society, but the fear was unfounded. There were some who turned up their noses at him, but few dared snub him when faced with his considerable power. Even if they called him a bastard behind his back, Gabriel did not really care. He could deal with that.

It was Celia’s nightmares that disturbed him the most.

They occurred over the last few nights without fail. Sometimes, they were full-blown episodes, with Celia shaking and crying out in her sleep. Other times, they were simply a sudden awakening and her sharp, startled gasp of terror.

But whenever Gabriel suggested they return to Rosenthorne Park and the quiet of the countryside, Celia adamantly refused.

“Your place… our place is here in London for now, my lord,” she replied with that stubborn tilt to her chin that made him want to both kiss her and turn her over his knee. “And here we shall stay.”

The list. Concentrate on that.

Taking a sip from a glass of brandy, Gabriel applied himself to the task he’d put off for several days now.

The section of new groomsmen and the stable personnel contained the highest number of new hires. With his father’s bad health and tendency toward reclusiveness the last few years of his life, there’d been little need for stable help before. Gabriel scanned the list, noting the places the different servants had been employed, and came across a name that gave him reason to pause.