Restlessness rushed through Celia. She needed to move. She needed a distraction. She needed something or someone occupying her mind other than Gabriel Rose. Twisted ankle or not, she would escape the deafening silence of this room and her own reckless thoughts. No one would know if she went now while everyone was at dinner.

Quickly, she selected a pair of slippers from the armoire. When she lifted her skirts and donned the footwear, she absently noted the faint, purplish bruising. It was visible even through her stockings.

A light shawl was selected as well, thrown over her shoulders for the moment, but useful in case she must conceal herself.

Celia was not sure exactly where she would escape to, only that she must. Perhaps the conservatory. Or the music room. Even the Ravenswood portrait gallery.

Just somewhere other than this empty, quiet room where her own thoughts tormented her.

She opened the door slowly, peeking her head out to determine if the corridor was empty. Then bit back the tiny scream that rose in her throat.

Gabriel stood there in the shadows. Leaning with a casual, dangerous elegance against the paneled wall directly across from her bedroom door. He was dressed formally for supper in a somber-colored suit coat that fit him to perfection. It highlighted the muscles beneath the fabric, the dark iron grey complementing his features and the scruff darkening his jawline.

Does the man not own a single razor?

Gabriel’s scarred eyebrow lifted in question.

“Going somewhere, my lady?”

“I-I thought I would visit the conservatory.” It was difficult forming a falsehood quickly enough when she was so shocked by his presence.

“No. You will not.”

The terse shutdown of her activities banged like a steel door in her face.

“I’m going crazy in this room. And you have no right—” Celia’s protest broke off as Gabriel strode toward her.

“Who are you meeting this time, my lady? Lord Harvey? Or another unworthy gentleman?”

“How dare you accuse me! Besides, my intentions are none of your business,” Celia shot back, horrified he would think she would intentionally conduct a clandestine rendezvous. “What are you doing here, anyway? Why are you lurking outside my bedroom door?”

His mouth stretched in a grim smile. “You may thank your mother for this. She requested that I check on you.”

Celia shook her head, fighting down the panic choking her. “You are lying. She did no such thing. Why would she?”

Gabriel reached her, his hand cupping her elbow like a bear trap ready to snap shut. “I never lie, my lady. Lady Darby surely has her reasons. At the top of the list is gaining a son-in-law for a stubborn, wayward daughter who has rejected every suitor in her orbit.”

“But not you, Mister Rose. She cannot possibly want you,” Celia cried out in frustration.

Gabriel stared down at her, his arm sliding around her waist until she was firmly anchored against his body. The danger of the moment swirled around them both until Celia was dizzy with awareness of his hard form. His intoxicating cologne. The huskiness of his voice.