Gabriel could not contain the thread of possessiveness curling throughout his body. “When will she return?”

“I don’t know, but you have time to refresh yourself after your long journey before they come back to the manor.” Sara turned and smiled as her husband approached. “Bentley, look. Lord Rosenthorne has arrived.”

Alan grinned, shaking Gabriel’s hand as he drew near. “Back to claim your bride, I see.”

“Only to discover she is traipsing about the countryside with others,” Gabriel growled.

“And on your own horse, no less,” Alan remarked cheerfully. “Oh, do not fret, Rose. We all know Lady Celia’s skill when it comes to horseflesh. Arion is in excellent hands.”

Gabriel did not mind at all that Celia had taken Arion for her own use. Everything he had was hers anyway. A peculiar jolt of pleasure assailed him knowing she rode his horse by choice.

“And not to worry over Celia’s ankle injury,” Sara interjected helpfully. “It has healed completely. Indeed, she danced several times last night without a single twinge of discomfort.”

Again, Gabriel experienced the same disturbing twinge of possessiveness, only this time the string pulled taut around his heart like a cruel noose. Seven hells, if this was what marriage consisted of, this constant tug of worry and stomach-rolling uncertainty regarding his wife and her actions, he might not survive.

“Did she now?” he bit out.

“It was all great fun. I’m sorry you missed it, Rose. I’m sure we shall have more of the same tonight, and you shall have your opportunity to dance with her as well.” Sara glanced past Gabriel as a servant carried in the travel valises and stood expectantly. “Oh, here are your things. You do want them taken to your chambers so you can settle in, yes? The housekeeper has had everything ready for days, just waiting for you to come back.” Sara’s smile was graciously pointed. “We shall inform Celia of your arrival the minute she returns from her ride.”

CHAPTER 21

Celia knocked on Gabriel’s door, tentatively at first, then with greater conviction.

She’d come straightaway upon learning he’d returned only an hour before. Ivy pointed out the way to his suite of rooms with a small grin while Celia clenched her teeth.

Her apparent eagerness to reunite with her recent fiancé was a source of amusement for both Ivy and Sara. Before Celie could escape their collective delight, Ivy leaned in close.

“No one shall disturb you. In fact, no one ever goes in Gabriel’s wing of the mansion with the exception of the maids.”

When horrified disgust crossed over Celia’s features, Ivy quickly shook her head. “Silly girl. Not for that. They go only to accomplish the tasks for which they are employed. Sebastian would never stand for that sort of nonsense. Nor would I. And Gabriel, well, he would never do that in this house.”

And now, Celia stood in that corridor outside Gabriel’s door. Her leather-clad knuckles stung from rapping the thick English oak with increasing force. Her pulse raced with anticipation at seeing him again after so many weeks apart.