To Love a Lord by Christi Caldwell

her gaze, and then with stiff footsteps made her way to the sideboard. The lady heaped eggs, kippers, ham, and bread atop her plate. His lips twitched at the healthy portion for the trim young woman. His skin pricked and he glanced over at his sister who paused, her fork midway to her mouth, and studied him.
    Silence descended upon the breakfast parlor, which with his usually garrulous sister was a rarer occurrence than a solar eclipse. Jane slid into the vacant chair beside Chloe and a footman helped push the chair forward. She gave a murmur of thanks and then, head bowed, proceeded to butter that warm, flaky bread just as she’d done yesterday morn.
    Gabriel settled back in his seat and cradled his cup between his hands. He eyed Jane over the rim. In the two days with which to develop a proper entreaty to put to his sister regarding Jane’s suitability as a companion, she was now silent. He broke the impasse. “I trust you’ve had several days to resolve yourself to the necessity of a companion, Chloe. As you are in the market for a husband, it is essential you,” we , “have a proper,” at his sidelong glance, Jane’s frown deepened, “companion.”
    Chloe finished her bite and then dabbed her lips with the edge of her white napkin. “There is no need for a companion.” She paused. “I’ve resolved that your presence will suffice.” She cast a sheepish glance at Jane. “I mean no offense, Mrs. Munroe. I simply do not need you.” With those six words, she severed Jane’s connection to his household.
    Jane politely inclined her head in acknowledgement. For a moment, panic flared to life in those expressive, crystalline eyes, and the depth of emotion there froze him. The fear and desperation there went beyond mere pride. She opened her mouth, as though prepared to launch a defense, but then her lower lip quivered. The muscles of his stomach clenched and he hated he’d noted that slight tremble, but there it was. And it could not be unseen. Through the young woman’s tumult, Chloe attended her breakfast, unknowing that she’d ultimately decided Jane’s fate.
    The matter of Jane and her position as companion to Chloe was at last settled. As he’d demanded from the onset, Jane would board his carriage and return to her post at Mrs. Belden’s. So why did that prospect cause this odd, empty, bereft feeling in his chest? Where was the earlier victory? The elation? He stared at the contents of his plate.
    “Despite your hopes and expectations for me,” his sister spoke, bringing his head up. “I am not in the market for a husband.” Those words were said to both of them. With the same show of defiance she’d practiced since she was a mere girl, she pursed her lips and favored Gabriel with a glower. “I’ve no intention of marrying.”
    From the corner of his eye, he saw Jane sit forward in her seat, as though intrigued by his sister’s bold pronouncement.
    Oh, bloody hell. He fought back a groan. Chloe would have this discussion again. Jane forgotten, Gabriel finished his coffee and set the cup aside. He waved off the servant who rushed forward to refill his cup and settled his elbows upon the table. “Chloe, you are one and twenty, nearly two and twenty,” he continued when she made to speak. “With several days in which to consider our last exchange, surely you see the necessity in securing a husband. I have already assured you, the man chosen will be honorable, caring, and considerate.”
    “The man chosen?” His sister gaped at him.
    What was it with young women and parroting back a person’s words?
    Jane hopped to her feet so suddenly, the crystal clattered noisily on the table.
    He spared a distracted glance for the young woman whose kiss had stolen his logic and, for that maddening loss of control, a reason he needed her gone. For a moment, he thought she intended to do precisely that. To turn, abandon the table, collect her valise, and then be gone. Forever. A vise squeezed his lungs. He