The Forgiven Duke (A Forgotten Castles Novel) by Jamie Carie

around with some fear. “I wonder where he is.”
    “And when he might return,” John added.
    “We’ll wait here and find out.” Svein settled himself on a rock.
    They didn’t have long to wait, as a short time later a sound from overhead startled them. Alex craned her neck. An old, wizened face peered down at them. He grinned as his rheumy eyes settled on Alex.
    “Might you be lookin’ for me, perhaps?”

Chapter Ten
    S o you see, Mother, you’ll have to move in for the season while Alexandria is here.”
    Meade wrote what his mother said and passed the speaking book over. Thank God Meade was back. Gabriel had hardly been able to function inside his own household without him.
    I cannot possibly stay the entire season. I have my own social activities and won’t be tied down to an unprincipled debutant for the season. I’m sorry, Gabriel. It’s quite impossible. Perhaps one of your sisters can come. Or . . . you could always hire her a companion. The girl has caused so much trouble already. It will be a struggle to like her at all.
    Gabriel ground his teeth. “Very well, I’ll ask Jane.”
    Jane was the only sister without children, and, therefore, had more than enough time on her hands. Plus, she was closer in age to Alexandria and would get on well with her. He should have thought of it before. “Meade, send a note off to her. I would like to get this settled sooner rather than later.”
    Meade nodded and scurried off to obey.
    After his mother left, Gabriel paced about the drawing room like a caged panther. Would the king’s men really find her in Iceland? Knowing her luck and the way people rallied around her and her cause, it wouldn’t surprise him if she remained hidden from them. Within a month, the regent had said. Gabriel doubted he would see her within two.
    And what was he to do in the meantime? This sitting and stewing was stretching his nerves to the snapping point. He needed to do something. He’d thrown himself back into his regular activities, but even the hard physical labor of sword fighting hadn’t lessened this constant pressure that made him feel like he was teetering on insanity.
    In desperation, he knelt beside an elegant damask-covered chair and laid his forehead against the embroidered cushion. Dear God, I am trying to do as Alexandria bade and look to You, but it only feels terrible. There is no relief from this pressure bearing down upon my soul. If only I could escape into the opera. The powerful notes of a musical score. Anything. I am cracking from the inside out and You don’t seem to be anywhere around. Help me!
    He actually broke into a sweat. Even though it was the dead of winter and there was a lively fire to try and take the chill from the far corners of the enormous room, he shook with an awareness of hot and cold. Why was it costing so much of him regarding Alexandria?
    A sudden thought that he was shouldering her trouble, protecting her somehow even though he wasn’t anywhere near her, made him sit back on his heels and rub the bridge of his nose. He stood, went over to a bookshelf, and took down one of the many copies of the Bible in the house.
    Turning to Deuteronomy, he paged through it until he found the verse. There. “Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.” What if he was supposed to pray this for Alexandria? What if this pressure was to goad him into an intercessor’s prayer for her?
    He immediately bowed his head and prayed the verse. As he said it under his breath, he had the distinct impression that he should sing it.
    Sing it? He’d never been a very good singer when he could hear. What would he sound like now?
    The pressure increased as he considered all the risks. What if someone heard him? He would sound ridiculous. What if God was asking him to do this and he disobeyed? Would it have any impact on Alexandria whether he sang or