CHAPTER 32

THE DAYS BY THE SEA had the contradictory quality of drifting slowly and flying by too fast. Hannah mused as she affixed a hat on top of her head. She couldn't believe it had been a week since their arrival. A blissful week of days filled with walks by the shore, picnics on the cliffs, and glorious lovemaking. They were going on an excursion today. Gabriel had gone out to arrange for a curricle to take them there.

With every passing day, she was more at ease with him. They had fallen into this comfortable routine, almost like domestic bliss, where they fell asleep in each other's arms and woke up together. Made lazy love in the morning sunshine, bathed together. They would help each other get dressed. Well...sometimes. Other times the help was counterproductive as they ended up tearing each other's clothes off. But it was fine, for they had nowhere else to be. No expectations put on their time.

All her cares and troubles seemed worlds away. As if nothing existed but Gabriel and her. This moment. She felt happier than she had ever been before. And paradoxically, the happier she felt, the more anxious she became. Time was running out. This idyllic interlude would end soon. She and Gabriel would have to part ways. Return to their real lives. How could she bear it?

How could she go on without him? And yet, she must. For Harold. For the child they might have conceived. For Gabriel, even. He was being incredibly generous. Caring. Always ensuring her comfort, her pleasure. Protecting her against everything. Taking care of her.

It had been so long since she'd had someone to rely on. In the early days of her marriage, Harold had been her rock. But little by little, over the years, as his health declined and she took on more responsibility, their roles had shifted. She had not realized how burdened she was until Gabriel had taken charge. With him, she didn't have to think, to plan, to make decisions other than for her own enjoyment. He took care of the rest. Capable, efficient. Solid.

But this situation was so unfair to him. He deserved a real partner. A real relationship. He should be thinking about finding a wife and having children he could call his own. Not be embroiled in this deception with her. The pain that lanced through her heart at imagining Gabriel with another woman was a sign of how far she had fallen.

A familiar knock on the door heralded the arrival of the object of her musings. Yes, she had come to recognize even the staccato rhythm of his knocks. He always did it in a particular pattern. One rap, followed by three shorter ones. Did he know he did that, or did he do it unconsciously? It was one of the myriad small, apparently insignificant details about him that she had become so dear to her.

"We could leave when you are ready. I had secured a curricle, but the innkeeper assured me it is better to simply walk there. It is not far. Just a fifteen-minute promenade along a coastal path."

She stood from the small vanity and turned to face him. "That sounds lovely. Let's go."

"It might be a bit chilly with the wind blowing over the cliffs. That's the reason I wanted to take the curricle, but Mr. Marlowe assures me it will be more of a nuisance than a help."

She laughed. "My coat is warm, and I am perfectly capable of a fifteen-minute walk."

"In that case." He offered his arm and together they left the inn behind to walk along the path that cut through low cliffs. He carried the picnic basket on his other arm.

They walked for a while in comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to talk. That was another surprise. How they could simply be. When they spotted the gigantic rock formation called Durdle Door, they started descending towards the beach through a steep set of stairs cut into the face of the cliff. She slipped, her heart lodged in her throat with fear, but Gabriel was there, holding her safe, keeping her from falling before her brain even had time to react.

"These steps are treacherous," she breathed, still nonplussed.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Duchess."

"Why do you call me duchess?" She was genuinely intrigued. He used her name often, almost as often as he gave her endearments. And yet, he persisted on sometimes using the formality of her title.

He shrugged. "I guess I need the reminder. Can't let myself completely forget who we are and our proper places."

She studied him. The words were said without bitterness, and yet she heard the pain. A pain that echoed in her own heart.

"I understand. This place, this time, feels almost magical. Far removed from our normal lives."

"Yes. But the real world is waiting. Our real lives will intrude soon enough."

"How soon?" She was afraid to know. As long as she didn't know the exact day they were to depart, she could ignore it. But she was no coward. She had to face reality.

They had reached the beach, and he took his time to respond while they selected a spot to sit near the rock wall. Here they were in the shadow of the cliff, but at least the rock provided some protection against the wind. The beach was deserted. It seemed they were the only lunatics who thought to walk on the beach in December.

"In five days," he finally replied.

"Oh, I see."

So soon! She wanted to cry. Couldn't they stay here an entire month? But of course not. She was being silly. Christmas was coming soon. She needed to be back at the abbey by then. Not to mention she was concerned about Harold. She had telegraphed him the day after their arrival, to inform him where he could find her, but still...

"I wish we could stay longer." His tone was laced with regret. "But I'll find a way for us to continue seeing each other. Maybe you could visit my estate at Christmas?"

She shook her head. "I doubt Harold would be able to travel."

"Of course," he said, turning away. Busying himself by taking the blanket out of the basket and laying it on the sand for them to sit.

"I'm sorry. Was it terribly gauche of me to mention Harold? I don't know how to approach the subject, or even if I should. This is all so far out of my scope–"

Gabriel took one of her hands. "Hannah, you should feel free to talk to me about anything. There's no forbidden subject between us. Besides, I do want to talk about the duke. He is..." He hesitated. She thought he was about to say the duke was his father, but then he finished, "He is the man who sired me. I want to learn more about him."

"Thank you, Gabriel."

"For what?" He looked genuinely puzzled. As if he didn't understand what a precious gift his open attitude was to her.

"For putting me at ease. For giving me the freedom to speak my mind. You can ask me anything you want as well."

"Anything?" he asked, and there was a hint of a tease in his stormy eyes. Eyes that looked so much like the sea on this winter morning.

Her lips twitched in response, dispelling the rioting emotions of the moment, as was no doubt his intent. "Well, you can ask. I can't promise that I will answer."

"Yes, you will," he said, helping her sit on the blanket and sprawling next to her. "I will get you to tell me all your secrets."

She laughed. "I have no secrets. At least none that you don't know. My life has been exceedingly dull until we embarked on this adventure."

"Everybody has secrets."

"Do you have secrets?"

His mouth held a sardonic twist as he replied. "My dear, I am a secret. My whole life, my very existence, is a shameful secret."

"Not for Harold, I don't think. He kept the secret because he thought it was the best for you. But I know he is proud of you, as he should be."

Gabriel shook his head, as if to deny the oblique compliment. "Tell me about him. What ails him?"

She let the subject go. "It's his heart. He has chest pains, the doctor calls them angina pectoris . He's been having them for years, but they are more frequent of late. And he suffered an apoplexy a few months ago. He hasn't completely recovered."

Gabriel nodded somberly. "How much time do doctors think he has left?"

"They say it's difficult to predict. He could have another apoplexy and die tomorrow. Or he could linger on for a few years in a slow decline. But Harold thinks he doesn't have much time."

"I wish I had known he was my father sooner. Years ago, when we first met. I wish I'd had more time with him. Without this between us."

"By this you mean our relationship?" She heard the defensiveness in her tone.

He noticed as well. He didn't miss much. His hand extended towards her face, caressing her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her lips.

"I don't regret our relationship. I never will, no matter what happens. How can I, when having this time with you, however long or short it might be, is the best thing that's ever happened to me?" There was naked vulnerability in his eyes. He was letting her in. Showing her some emotion he dared not give name to. Neither did she.

"But I do regret the nature of it. I regret this strange situation that puts each of us in a separate corner of a triangle. I don't wish for the duke's death. I...care about him. And yet, he's standing between me and what I want most in the world. It is so deucedly difficult."

She lowered her gaze. She couldn't bear to witness his pain. The desperate yearning warring with guilt that also found an echo in her heart.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel."

He tugged her against him, held her close to his chest. "Don't be. You have nothing to apologize for. I suspect you are as much a victim of the circumstances as I am. And are just as torn."