Broken Wing (14 page)

When he was younger, he used to pretend he’d been left at Madame’s by accident, and pray that someone was looking for him, would come to find him soon and take him home. He’d learned the way of things quickly enough, and soon nothing could shock him. He’d stopped pretending, and he’d stopped praying after that. He’d looked for no mercy and held no expectations. Now he thanked a merciful God for sending him something so achingly sweet and beautiful as Sarah and
her kisses, and he prayed earnestly that she would allow him to kiss her again.

She did. He kissed her often after that, every chance he got, slow, sweet kisses stolen under the moon and stars; hot, breathy kisses when he greeted her; and quick and furtive kisses in the kitchen, the stables, and on the stairs. He fully employed his talent for sensuality and seduction to master this new art, to fashion with slow hands and sweet mouth, a heady intoxicating communion each time his lips touched hers. He knew he pleased her, and it thrilled him when she moaned and clung to him, returning his passion with her own. It was joyous, innocent, a first for both of them, and each kiss became a memory, untarnished and pure, belonging only to them.

Sarah watched Gabriel move as he practiced with Ross thrusting and parrying the wind whipping his hair round his shoulders. The months of working with Davey had sculpted him. Powerful and lean, his body was corded, sleek with muscle and sinew, his stomach ridged and hard. He moved like a dancer, lithe, graceful, and deadly, and as she watched him, mesmerized, she unconsciously licked her lips.

“You like what you see, little cousin?” Davey whispered in her ear, startling her. Growling at him, her face a deep crimson, she didn’t answer. With a knowing smile, he tugged on her hair and made to leave.

“Wait! Davey?”

“Yes,
querida?”

“Do you … do
you
like him?”

He smiled sweetly. “Why, yes, cousin. I like him. I like him very much. But not as much as you do, I think.” Giving her a wink, he moved away.

Over the next few weeks, the house filled with noise and laughter as Jamie returned home to celebrate Christmas. Cheerful and enthusiastic, he regaled them with stories of adventures with his new chums, pranks played on the stodgy schoolmaster, and the foolish escapades of Sidney’s silly daughters. He’d grown in size and confidence over the past four months, and while he was clearly delighted to be home, there was a new reserve in his manner, reflecting his growing sense of himself as a young man, rather than a boy. Inclined to forget a past that had no place in his new life, caught up in the excitement, short memory, and endless joy of youth, the immediate was all that existed for him. He had friends his own age now, and for the moment at least, they were far more exciting to him than Gabriel, Ross, or Sarah.

Gabriel couldn’t fail to note that Jamie no longer sought him out as he used to, and he wondered if he was becoming an embarrassment to the boy, an unwelcome remembrance of dark times. It reminded him that he was neither a guest nor a member of the family, but a paid employee whose services would not be required much longer. Stubbornly determined to enjoy whatever time he had with Sarah to the fullest,
he buried all such hurts and fears, and let none of his worry show.

Over the course of the Yule, the house was decorated with greenery, and there were feasts, visits, dances, and much merrymaking with the townsfolk and the local gentry. Gabriel was surprised, embarrassed, and deeply moved when Ross and Davey presented him with the gift of a fine Toledo blade, made to match his height and reach. He was speechless when Sarah gave him a beautiful violin made by an old Gypsy fiddle master. He was embarrassed that he didn’t have any gifts to give in return. He’d never celebrated any holiday before, hadn’t known what to expect, and he’d certainly never been given gifts.

Sarah eased his discomfort by claiming he had given them the gift of music, and so it was that he found himself the center of attention at soirees and dances throughout the holidays, delighting family and guests with his artistry and skill. Not used to attention or applause, he found it distinctly discomfiting at first, but soon learned to manage a gracious, if somewhat terse reply, to the congratulations and admiring comments.

When Ross hosted a gathering of friends and neighbors for Twelfth Night, Gabriel was eagerly sought after by the local young ladies, much to his chagrin, and the household’s amusement. Good-natured and polite, he danced with several country misses, providing more than one with fodder for dreams for years
to come. He was, nevertheless, uncomfortable in such gatherings, and relieved when the season wound down and he could resume his training with Davey, his sparring with Ross, and his evenings with Sarah. His only regret was Jamie’s return to Sidney’s.

The quiet was welcome to everyone after the bustle of the holidays, and Davey and Ross sat enjoying a brandy in the library. Ross could see Gabriel and Sarah through the open door across the hall, heads bent close together as they played a duet on the violin. He couldn’t fail but notice they were practically inseparable these days. Only half-attending one of Davey’s scandalous stories, his glance flicked from his sister to his protégé.

To his credit, Gabriel appeared to be behaving like a gentleman, somewhat surprising under the circumstances. He was clearly considerate and respectful of her, and doubtless head over heels in love. As for Sarah, she practically glowed whenever he was in the vicinity. Ross sighed and rubbed his temples. The lad was badly damaged, entirely unsuitable, and he didn’t want to see her hurt.

“They make a pretty pair, don’t they? He’s mad for your sister. You realize that, don’t you, Ross?”

Ross blinked, giving Davey a sour look. He’d forgotten he was in the room. “He pants after her.”

“Well, at least you know he’s not a catamite.”

“Blast you, man; that’s not amusing!”

“It is to me. You’re as ruffled and missish as some ancient spinster. She’s been alone a long time, Ross. She’s not found a man to interest her since that travesty of a marriage five years ago.”

“I had thought, at one time, that perhaps you and she …”

“Ah, yes, well … these things happen. A man waits too long, you see, and some other fellow seizes the prize. She only has eyes for him. You’re no more blind than I am.”

Ross sighed. “I’ve feared it.”

“Why? What’s to fear? He’s a likely lad, treats her well enough from what I can see.”

“The thing is, Davey … he’s not exactly what he seems. His circumstances, his background, through no fault of his own, have been horrendous. I fear he’s been damaged … badly.”

“Aye, well, so have we all, my friend. Life does that. What of it?”

“Christ, man, we found him in a brothel! He grew up there and he wasn’t employed as the potboy or the cook. He’d been looking out for James, and Sarah insisted we bring him home with us.”

“And so? The girl has good instincts and you’ve never been one to judge a man by what he can’t help
and had no part in creating. Or was he happy there?”

“No, I think not. I believe he stayed to protect Jamie.”

“Hmm, so you owe him a significant debt, hence his welcome to your home.”

“But not to my sister! I don’t fault him for it, Davey, but if you knew the things he’s been through … what he’s done.”

“Maybe I do; maybe I don’t.” Davey shrugged and poured himself another brandy, offering one to Ross. “What’s your point?”

“I’m afraid he’s damaged in ways that can’t be mended, and that she’ll have her heart broken trying.”

“She’s a woman, my friend, not a child, and a widow at that. It’s for her to decide, isn’t it?”

“I’m fairly certain that he’s killed before.”

“Well, heavens, Ross! So have we! It will certainly help with his training.”

“You’ve had him for just over four months now. What do you make of him? Do you like him?”

“Aye, well enough, old friend. He’s a good lad. Sharp as any I’ve trained. Hungry, curious, agile as a cat, and very quick to learn. I’d as lief have him at my back as any of my crew.”

Ross’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “High praise, indeed, Davey! He’s that good?”

“Aye, brother, as good as you were at that age, and I reckon he’ll be better than both of us before too long. I’ll tell you something else. I know strength when I
see it, Ross, and that boy has a core of steel. He seems decent enough to me, and not only because of what he did for Jamie. We’ve both seen lads no older than he is, born to fortune and privilege, given every opportunity, and what do they do with it? They debase themselves and others. Why? Because they’re spoiled and bored. Because they can. Gabriel may have grown up in a hellhole, but I’ll measure a man by how he’s dealt with adversity, and from what I can see he’s done all right for himself. He’s a decent lad, Ross. More so than many I’ve met. If living a life like you say didn’t destroy that, I can’t imagine anything will.”

Ross let out deep sigh. “You’re right, Davey. I like the lad, too. It’s just hard … one’s sister. I daresay it would have alarmed me equally if she’d set her cap for you.”

Davey threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Blast it, man! We need to find you a woman before you turn into a crotchety old crone. I swear! I am here to rescue you. Come, let us hie ourselves off to the widow Creswell’s and lose ourselves in skirts and liquor.”

“Aye, let’s, but there’s a matter I’d like to discuss first. It’s come to my attention that there’ve been several smuggling runs recently.”

“Indeed? And how did that come to your attention? Might it be the wine we had at dinner? Your afternoon tea? Or is it that cigar you’re smoking?”

“I’m serious, Davey. I’m aware you’ve been taking
Gabriel with you, and I would rather you didn’t.”

“What? You’ve given him to me to train and you don’t want me to take him to sea?”

Ross laughed. “You want to take him to sea? You mean you want to turn him into a smuggler, Davey, and introduce him to piracy, as well, no doubt.”

“Tsk-tsk! Privateering, child. Do make an effort to get it right.”

“Regardless, Davey, I didn’t bring him here to have his head end up in a noose.”

“The lad’s learned a lot, Ross. He needs a chance to put it into practice. It won’t hurt him to learn seamanship. He’s not likely to be one of those pretty, puffed-up courtiers you see in London, prancing about with a sword dangling between their legs pretending it’s their prick, sticking themselves with it and tangling it in the ladies’ dresses. He’ll be wanting a trade, and I can promise you he’s not suited to being a bloody bookkeeper, or somebody’s bailiff!”

“I say again, smuggling and piracy are not options.”

“Well I’m sorry to hear you say that, and it’s
privateering
, mind. The lad loves the water. He’s at home on a ship, and he’s an able seaman. I’ve a mind to promote him to midshipman soon. If he continues as he’s begun he’ll be a captain one day. You know as well as I what a nice prize can do to help a young fellow get a good start in life.”

“Do you know, I’ve never quite understood exactly what kind of privateer you are, Davey. British?
French? American?”

“Well, now, that depends, doesn’t it, Ross? When I’m down in the Americas … well, you don’t want to know about that. If things become uncomfortable here, I may head back to the Mediterranean. It’s proven to be a highly lucrative hunting ground in the past, and I’ve a letter of marquee against the French. Since the Corsican appears to have abandoned his fleet there in search of glory closer to home, it should prove an excellent time to pluck a juicy French prize or two. You should join me, Ross. It would do you good. You’re reminding me more and more of my old spinster auntie these days.”

“I’m done with all that, Davey. I’ve lost my taste for mayhem. It’s a dangerous game you play, and you’ve no right to bring Gabriel into it. Lieutenant Brey is scouring the coast with the
Hind
, looking to make a name for himself. He intends to put an end to smuggling in this area, particularly since the murder of one of his men. You are well connected. If you were taken you might walk away, but the lad would be hung or transported. Leave off the smuggling for now. Take him with you when you’re on legitimate business. Perhaps we can make him a merchant captain.”