Croft screamed, falling to his knees as his wrist dislocated. Panic erupted. The laborers scrambled back. The guests on the terrace, who had been watching the commotion, began to shriek. Aunt Mildred clutched her chest while the men shouted for someone to fetch a pistol. "Arrest him!" Croft wailed from the dirt, clutching his injured arm. "Kill him!" The two groundsmen finally found their courage and rushed forward.
They grabbed Gabriel by the arms. Gabriel didn't fight them. He let them seize him. He looked down at Croft, writhing in the dust, and then he looked up at the terrace. He saw the horrified faces of the ton.
He saw the footmen rushing out with muskets. And then he saw Norah standing by the oak tree. She wasn't screaming. She was staring at him, her eyes wide, realizing exactly what he had just done. He had thrown his life away to stop a whip from striking a child.
Gabriel smiled at her. It was a bleak, grim smile. "Take me to the house," Gabriel told the men holding his arms. "He didn't sound like a prisoner. He sounded like a king, giving an order. You're going to the stables, you animal." One of the guards sneered, yanking his shoulder. "We'll chain you to the wall till the magistrate gets here." Gabriel stopped walking. The sudden halt nearly pulled the guards off their feet.
He turned his head and looked the man directly in the eye. "You will take me to the house," Gabriel said. The gravelly, rough accent he had been using for three days vanished. The voice that came out of his throat was pure, unadulterated aristocracy. It was the clipped authoritative tone of a man born to rule, polished in the halls of Eton and Oxford. It was a voice that commanded obedience on a cellular level.
And you will do it without touching me again. Let go. The guard blinked. Confusion washed over his face. Instinctively, violently, he let go of Gabriel's arm.
The other guard did the same, taking a step back as if he had been burned. Gabriel straightened his shoulders. He didn't brush the dirt off his clothes. He turned and began walking toward the grand front entrance of Foxwood Hall.
The scene on the front steps was utter chaos. Guests were crowding near the massive double doors, trying to see the violent laborer being hauled away, only to freeze in shock as the laborer walked calmly up the limestone steps, entirely under his own power. The guards trailed behind him, looking terrified and deeply confused. Croft was being helped up the stairs by a footman, sobbing in pain and clutching his wrist. Gabriel ignored them all.
He walked through theavy front doors into the grand foyer. The marble floors gleamed beneath the crystal chandeliers. He didn't wipe his boots. He left a trail of dark, heavy mud across the pristine white stone with every step. "Stop him!" Croft screamed from the doorway. "He's a mad man. Don't let him near the ladies.