Gabriel had seen Bathsheba and Troy together and he watched Troy, all show and swagger, making jokes and doing as little as possible. Bathsheba didn't seem to notice. He saw the way that she looked at him, glancing sideways at him when she thought no one was looking. Gabriel had met men like him before, so proud of their status in the regiment, his redcoat like a costume to hide behind. It wasn't just for Bathsheba's sake that Gabriel disliked him, it was Troy's smirking, pompous arrogance as if he was there to perform to them all, making himself as likeable as possible. Making Bathsheba like him. He knew what was happening, but he couldn't stop it. He tried to warn her, but she wouldn't listen.

Gabriel knew that Boldwood had tried to stop the wedding, offered Troy money, but Troy was a dishonourable man and had married Bathsheba in secret. Gabriel lay upon his bed at night, staring up into the dark, trying to think of a way to save her, knowing that it was too late. He loved her still, but how could his love for her rescue her from that man, when she was blinded by his charm? Gabriel knew that he was not an unattractive man, in town he often passed a gaggle of girls, maids from the local farms, giggling and looking at him with admiration. Why could Bathsheba not see what they saw? He tossed and turned upon the mattress, thinking about her, full of longing. He tried not to think about her wedding night with Troy, but images seeped unbidden into his mind. Apart from a few kisses and cuddles with a lass after a harvest, Gabriel had not touched a woman like that. But he was a grown man, he could not wait forever.

Then it was harvest time. Slaving in the hot relentless sun, he watched Troy ride by with Bathsheba by his side, like the lord of the manor. Gabriel wiped his hand across his forehead and stopped momentarily as he saw Bathsheba laugh at something that Troy said, throwing back her head in an almost exaggerated way. Gabriel felt afraid for her. He knew that he must warn her about Troy, even if it meant that she would send him away again.

He approached her at dusk, when he was sure that Troy was at the local tavern drinking. He was ushered into the drawing room by Liddy. Bathsheba seemed startled, turning away from him in the candle light, her chestnut hair glinting with gold. He swallowed, unsure of himself.

"Bathsheba, there is something I must discuss with you."

"Yes? Is the harvest going well? Will we bring it all in before the weather breaks?"

"No, not that. It is about Troy."

Bathsheba looked at him with unconcealed annoyance.

"Please, I do not wish to discuss my husband with you, you have made your feelings plain on that matter. I value your good sense and loyalty, but I do not need your guidance in this Gabriel."

"Please, listen to me - -"

He stepped towards her, his arms outstretched, but she held her ground, her hands on her hips.

"I do not wish to discuss this further. Please go before we both say things we will regret."

Was it his imagination, or was there a hint of shame in her voice? She was an intelligent, confident woman, did she know now that she had made a mistake by marrying Troy? It was obvious now, that Troy had no intention of being involved in the farm. Not once, had he lifted a finger to help during the harvest, preferring to gallop around the countryside on his horse, or ride in his fine carriage. His days were taken up with gambling and drinking, according to the reports that had filtered down to Gabriel by his loyal men, keen to temper the heart ache they knew he must be feeling. But it didn't help.

"He is not an honourable man."

She stared at him with such a look of pleading, that he stopped. Her eyes glinted with tears.

"Please Gabriel."

He twisted his hat in his hands, unsure of himself now and to his surprise she moved towards him and touched his arm.

"You are my loyal friend," she said, trying to smile.

As she looked up at him, he had the overwhelming desire to kiss her, it was almost as if she wanted him to do it as her mouth softly parted and her breath fanned his face. It took all his will power to move away from her, clumsily knocking against a table as he retreated.

As he walked out into the still night air, lit with stars, all he could think about was her sweet face, tilted up towards him in the soft candle light. A knife seemed to twist in his gut as he thought about that man who did not deserve to be her husband. No one would ever love her the way that he did, but he would never be able to show her. He was not a vengeful man, but he wished with all his heart that Troy would leave, be carried off to war, never to return. But Gabriel knew that Troy had left his regiment when he had married Bathsheba. He would never be rid of him.