there, Gabrielle?”
She stared at the dancing flames in the fireplace. “Wilcott asked me to walk with him. He didn’t look well. I thought he was feeling ill, and I also needed a breath of fresh air after Hendricks. We walked to the maze.”
“Why would you go into a dark maze with someone?”
“He’s harmless.”
“Harmless doesn’t pull a pistol on you.”
Her brows puckered. “That’s what is so confusing about all of this.”
“What happened?”
“He said he was sorry and then he pulled the pistol.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you think he’s our traitor?”
“Wilcott?” She thought for a moment. “No. He’s a very confused man, but I don’t think he’s dangerous.”
“Obviously he
is
dangerous.”
“I just don’t understand,” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand. “Rest for now. We’ll find the answer.” He would pay Wilcott a visit as soon as Gabrielle fell asleep. For now he was content to sit with her and hold her hand. This was the longest they’d been together without bickering, and he liked it. He didn’t like arguing with her, didn’t like holding her at a distance, even though it was necessary. He was fairly certain his heart would not survive another three days like Venice, but for now he was happy to sit here.
She unwound her fingers from his and touched his cheek. Sebastian wanted to close his eyes and press his cheek in to her palm, but he didn’t dare—although his body clamored for more and didn’t seem to care one bit that she was injured and drunk. He held himself very still and simply savored the feel of her hand on his cheek.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
Chapter 12
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sebastian said.
“Probably not, but kiss me anyway.”
“No.”
“What happened to you, Sebastian? You weren’t like this in Venice.”
“Venice was another time, another place.”
“Another person?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Don’t go there, Gabrielle.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve been drinking.”
“You make me sound like a drunkard. My pain is dulled, but the rest of my senses aren’t, and my mind is perfectly fine. Why were you a different person then?”
“Because I was. That wasn’t the real me.”
“I think you keep the real you locked up tightly.”
“So now you read minds?”
“I don’t need to read minds to know that.”
“You’ve been shot, and you’re not thinking clearly.”
Her brows rose. “So now it’s because I’ve been shot and not the alcohol that isn’t making me think clearly?”
“You are turning my words around.”
“You’re not making sense, and you’re trying to change the subject, but that’s all right. I understand.”
He frowned, taken off guard by her choice of conversational topic and the fact that her mind was fully functioning on the amount of alcohol she had consumed. “What is there to understand?”
“Why didn’t you want to work with me?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Now who’s changing the subject?”
“You’re trapped here by your need to take care of people. You’re too gallant to leave me to my pain and misery. I’m willing to take advantage of that, because normally you run away from me.”
“I don’t run away from you,” he said in disgust. “I’m a busy man. I have things to do.” His need to take care of people? What the hell was she talking about?
“Claire was right,” she murmured.
“What the hell has Claire to do with any of this?” He was going to throttle his sister the next time he saw her. She was a bothersome, meddlesome brat sometimes.
“She said you took others’ problems on your shoulders.”
Sebastian scoffed. “Claire would know. She’s been a problem since she started toddling.” Although he spoke the truth, his words were said with affection. He loved his sister and regretted many things that had happened to her. There had been times when he resented that he’d been thrust
She stared at the dancing flames in the fireplace. “Wilcott asked me to walk with him. He didn’t look well. I thought he was feeling ill, and I also needed a breath of fresh air after Hendricks. We walked to the maze.”
“Why would you go into a dark maze with someone?”
“He’s harmless.”
“Harmless doesn’t pull a pistol on you.”
Her brows puckered. “That’s what is so confusing about all of this.”
“What happened?”
“He said he was sorry and then he pulled the pistol.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you think he’s our traitor?”
“Wilcott?” She thought for a moment. “No. He’s a very confused man, but I don’t think he’s dangerous.”
“Obviously he
is
dangerous.”
“I just don’t understand,” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand. “Rest for now. We’ll find the answer.” He would pay Wilcott a visit as soon as Gabrielle fell asleep. For now he was content to sit with her and hold her hand. This was the longest they’d been together without bickering, and he liked it. He didn’t like arguing with her, didn’t like holding her at a distance, even though it was necessary. He was fairly certain his heart would not survive another three days like Venice, but for now he was happy to sit here.
She unwound her fingers from his and touched his cheek. Sebastian wanted to close his eyes and press his cheek in to her palm, but he didn’t dare—although his body clamored for more and didn’t seem to care one bit that she was injured and drunk. He held himself very still and simply savored the feel of her hand on his cheek.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
Chapter 12
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sebastian said.
“Probably not, but kiss me anyway.”
“No.”
“What happened to you, Sebastian? You weren’t like this in Venice.”
“Venice was another time, another place.”
“Another person?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Don’t go there, Gabrielle.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve been drinking.”
“You make me sound like a drunkard. My pain is dulled, but the rest of my senses aren’t, and my mind is perfectly fine. Why were you a different person then?”
“Because I was. That wasn’t the real me.”
“I think you keep the real you locked up tightly.”
“So now you read minds?”
“I don’t need to read minds to know that.”
“You’ve been shot, and you’re not thinking clearly.”
Her brows rose. “So now it’s because I’ve been shot and not the alcohol that isn’t making me think clearly?”
“You are turning my words around.”
“You’re not making sense, and you’re trying to change the subject, but that’s all right. I understand.”
He frowned, taken off guard by her choice of conversational topic and the fact that her mind was fully functioning on the amount of alcohol she had consumed. “What is there to understand?”
“Why didn’t you want to work with me?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Now who’s changing the subject?”
“You’re trapped here by your need to take care of people. You’re too gallant to leave me to my pain and misery. I’m willing to take advantage of that, because normally you run away from me.”
“I don’t run away from you,” he said in disgust. “I’m a busy man. I have things to do.” His need to take care of people? What the hell was she talking about?
“Claire was right,” she murmured.
“What the hell has Claire to do with any of this?” He was going to throttle his sister the next time he saw her. She was a bothersome, meddlesome brat sometimes.
“She said you took others’ problems on your shoulders.”
Sebastian scoffed. “Claire would know. She’s been a problem since she started toddling.” Although he spoke the truth, his words were said with affection. He loved his sister and regretted many things that had happened to her. There had been times when he resented that he’d been thrust
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