Page 46 of The Hidden Lord
Uncle Reggie’s tone was sharp. “And so marriage became the most practical solution to multiple problems.”
“Uncle Reggie!” Henri protested, though she recognized the pragmatism in his assessment.
“My dear,” Uncle Reggie said gently, “I am not criticizing Lord Trenwith’s decision. In fact, from a purely practical standpoint, it was rather elegant. He protected your reputation, ensured your safety, and solved the immediate crisis. Though I confess I am curious about the longer-term implications.”
Eleanor was studying Gabriel with the keen attention she usually reserved for difficult business negotiations. “And what of this criminal individual? Has he been apprehended?”
Gabriel’s expression grew guarded. “The matter is … ongoing. I have reason to believe the threat may not be entirely resolved.”
“Which is why,” Henri interjected, with sudden understanding of what he was about, “we are not staying in London. Gabriel insists we must travel to Yorkshire to follow the clues in the manuscript so we might learn who attacked me at Danbury’s.”
Uncle Reggie’s eyebrows rose. “Yorkshire? What is in Yorkshire?”
“Roseberry Topping,” Henri replied. “It appears to point to ruins there. Gabriel has solved part of the mystery.”
“How fascinating,” Uncle Reggie mused. “And you are certain this is not simply an elaborate treasure hunt that has put my niece in unnecessary danger?”
Gabriel grew firm. “Mr. Wells, I give you my word that I would not expose my wife to any risk I deemed avoidable. However, given what we have uncovered, I believe completing this investigation may be the surest way to resolve the threat permanently.”
Mama was quiet for a long moment, clearly weighing everything she had heard. “And you believe Henri will be safer traveling with you than remaining in London with us?”
“I do,” Gabriel replied without hesitation. “She will be more difficult to find. Moreover, her expertise may be crucial to solving this puzzle. She has already proven invaluable to the investigation.”
Henri felt a flutter of pride at his words, even as she remained frustrated by how much he was still withholding. She could see her mother and uncle exchanging meaningful looks, conducting some sort of silent communication that spoke to decades of shared family responsibility.
“Very well,” Eleanor said finally. “Though I insist on a proper wedding breakfast before you depart. The staff can prepare something suitable for tomorrow morning. Henri’s friends and family should have an opportunity to acknowledge this union properly, even if the ceremony itself was … unconventional.”
Gabriel inclined his head graciously. “That is most generous, Mrs. Bigsby. Though I am afraid we cannot delay our departure long.”
“A single morning,” Eleanor said firmly, “is hardly an unreasonable request for a mother who has just learned of her daughter’s marriage under such extraordinary circumstances. Regrettably, Signor di Bianchi is presently beyond our reach. He would be grateful to know Henri is alive and well.”
Gabriel was silent for several seconds. “May we make it a wedding dinner?”
Henri wished to object. She had hoped to speak with Signor di Bianchi and return the sketch as she had promised, but she held her tongue, uncertain who would win the quiet standoff.
Her mother exhaled sharply, before conceding. “Very well.”
As the conversation continued, Henri found herself observing a fascinating dynamic between Gabriel and hermother. Eleanor Bigsby had built her empire through shrewd observation and calculated decision-making, and Henri could see her applying those same skills to assess her new son-in-law. For his part, Gabriel seemed to recognize a kindred spirit in Eleanor’s businesslike approach, responding to her directness with respectful deflection.
It was almost like watching two generals negotiate a treaty, each measuring the other’s strengths while maintaining perfect civility. Eleanor’s questions were pointed but fair, probing Gabriel’s character and intentions with the same determined intensity she used to evaluate potential business allies. Gabriel, in turn, appeared to appreciate her straightforward manner, offering more substantive answers to her inquiries than he had to Uncle Reggie’s more diplomatically phrased concerns. Yet he still kept many details to himself, and Henri felt it would be disloyal to reveal anything he was not willing to disclose himself.
“You understand,” Eleanor said at one point, fixing Gabriel with her penetrating stare, “that Henrietta is not merely my daughter, but a vital part of our family dealings. Her safety and well-being are not matters I take lightly.”
“I would expect nothing less from a woman of your accomplishments, Mrs. Bigsby,” Gabriel replied with sincerity. “Your daughter’s welfare is now my primary responsibility, and I do not accept such duties carelessly. Her experience as Mr. Wells’s private secretary will be invaluable as my viscountess.”
Henri watched this exchange with growing fascination, realizing that Gabriel was responding to her mother’s business acumen in a way that was almost deferential. Many of high society disdained a woman in trade, especially such a successful one. But here were two people who understood power and responsibility, who recognized in each other the kind of careful calculation required to succeed in their respective worlds.
As they parted to prepare for dinner, Henri noticed subtle signs that her mother was reaching a conclusion about Gabriel’s character. The slight relaxation in Eleanor’s posture, the way her questions shifted from interrogation to genuine interest, the occasional nod of approval when Gabriel demonstrated particular insight or consideration.
“Very well,” Eleanor said finally, and Henri could hear a decision had been made. “I can see that Henrietta has chosen well, even if the circumstances were unconventional. You clearly understand the value of what you have gained, Lord Trenwith, and I trust you will act accordingly.”
Gabriel inclined his head gravely. “You have my word, Mrs. Bigsby.”
Eleanor’s sharp eyes softened slightly as she looked at her daughter. “And you, my dear, seem content with your choice, despite the dramatic nature of your courtship.”
“I am, Mama,” Henri said, though she wondered if Gabriel would ever allow her the same kind of direct assessment her mother had just conducted.
As the conversation drew to a close and arrangements were made for their overnight stay, Henri could not shake the feeling that she was watching her husband retreat further into the safety of his public identity. Each question from her family seemed to reinforce his instinct to maintain careful distance, and she began to despair that the tentative connection they had shared during their journey might never return.
