His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2) (19 page)

“How can you sound so wise when you’re so young?”

“I’ve seen most of the world, that’s why,” he said cheekily. He turned his horse about. “I’m so chilled, I can’t wait to have some hot chocolate, and the hot chocolate that Miss Isla makes is the best.”

“Don’t let Seamus hear you say that. He thinks he makes the best hot chocolate.”

“I won’t tell, if you don’t,” Charles said impishly. She laughed, and followed him back to the castle. That’s when the heavens opened up and poured buckets of rain down on them.

“Now, I’m really cold.” Charles’s teeth started to chatter. She inwardly agreed with Charles. She was numb to the bone. The rough sea wind from the coast was making it hard for her to see one foot in front of her.

“Just hold on, and we’ll be back to the castle in no time.”

“I hope you’re right about that,” his voice was lost on the howling wind.

She pulled her cloak closer about her, and still her teeth chattered. Her hair was wet, her hood had been blown off by the wild wind, and she had never been so damn cold in all of her life. Christ Almighty. She was going to catch her death.

“Gemma!”

She heard Archie’s call with relief flowing through her heart. She was so happy to hear his voice, that she even welcomed facing his wrath. She couldn’t escape him no matter how hard she tried, or how far she ran. He’d always find her and haul her back to his side. Her body was growing weak.

“Aunt Gemma? Are you hurt? You are shivering really badly. I guess you aren’t used to this harsh and damp weather. We used to get rained on all the time back when I was on my ma’s ship. She never let me sleep below, so I was stuck trying to find someplace to sleep on deck that wasn’t too cold or wet. I don’t think you have the constitution for this type of weather. You’re just a delicate little blue blood.”

“I’m fine, Charles,” she said, but her chattering teeth and shivering body told another story.

“Keep your chin up, Aunt Gemma. Don’t…despair, we’ll get back there in time.”

“I know, Charles.”

“You should stick close to Lord Northam from now on. He knows how to take care of you.”

“Does he?” she asked weakly. 

“He does,” Charles said firmly. She tried to muster the strength to give him a rebuttal, and couldn’t. 

She slumped forward. Her lungs were burning again, and instead of feeling cold, she was now feeling oh so cold. Her fingers felt like they were going to freeze right off. How could it be this cold at the end of April?

She had to hold on, just a while longer. They would be safe soon, safe from the cold and the thrashing storm, but would she be safe from Archie? “I think I might be coming down with a fever, Charles. I feel quite wretched, and my throat is terribly sore.”

“You never should have left your nice warm fire,” he said.

She coughed.

“You’ll be all right, here comes Lord Northam, and oh, no, that wicked Frog is with him.”

“My dear, Charles that wicked Frenchman is his brother.”

“I know, but that doesn’t make him any less wicked.”

She smiled. Hazy images filtered through her fevered brain. Images of England, past and present filled her mind, and they all melted into each other. She could hear Mallory and Malcolm laughing as they chased her through the gardens at Chichester Castle. She could see Malcolm looking smart in his Royal Naval uniform before he went away to war. Her heart hurt. 

“Gemma?” She was slipping off the horse, even though Charles was trying to keep her from falling.

“Lord Northam, she’s really sick. She’s just raging with fever.”

“We have to get her to my mama. She and Isla will know what to do.”

“I’m worried for her.”

“She’ll be fine, boy.” She could hear Louis-Daniel speaking in the background. “She’s just too much of a bitch to die.” Somehow, they lifted her off her horse, and placed her into the carriage they had brought. He covered her with warm rugs, and pulled her up against him.

“We need to get you out of those wet clothes,” he said, worry bleeding through his voice.

“Take me home, please.”

“I’m taking you home, Gemma. Stay with me, Gemma. Don’t go anywhere where I can’t find you.”

She was spent. She couldn’t stay awake any other. Closing her eyes, she fell into a dreamland where Malcolm was alive—and Archie was her knight in shining armor, come to vanquish the villains in her life.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“What’s happened? Did she fall from her horse?” His mother asked anxiously, running through the great hall toward him. Take her upstairs at once, she is soaked through to the bone.” His mother touched Gemma’s forehead. “Gracious, she’s burning up. We have to get her out of those wet clothes, and get her warmed up. “We need Isla and I think she went to the village…”

“Say no more, I will go and fetch her home,” Louis-Daniel said gallantly. “I wouldn’t care but seeing as she is your wife, I shall endeavor to save her life.”

“Go and ride fast and hard,” Archie ordered. 

“That’s the only way I ever do anything—fast and hard.” Louis-Daniel laughed, delighting in his play on words. He shook his head.

“Stop wasting time, Louis-Daniel. I can’t lose her…I love her, God, how I love her.”

“You amaze me, brother. How can you love such a creature? Why…you haven’t even shared her bed yet.”

“Louis-Daniel,” his mother said sharply, “Go, now. There is no time to tarry.”

“Aye, Mama,” he said, bowing, he turned around and hurried from the castle. There was one thing he could always count on with Louis-Daniel, he never failed to listen to their mother.

“What should I do?” Charles asked, looking wildly between them all.

“Go and see my husband, Charles. He is in the Library, and I do believe that seeing you might lift his spirits. Perhaps, perhaps, you could read a book to him.”

“It would have to be a fairly easy book I barely know how to read, mum.” She smiled at him. “In that case, we shall have to take up your studies.”

Charles pulled a face. “I should have kept my mouth shut,” he said. “You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”

“We will, now off with you,” his mother said sternly.

  *****

Charles scurried off in the direction of the Library. He’d been exploring the castle since they’d arrived. Creeping silently into the room, he looked at one of the large chairs by the grand fireplace. A man sat with a blanket over his legs and an open book in his lap. As he crept closer, he found out that the man looked a lot like Archie, and he was old, a lot older than Archie’s mother. His eyes fluttered open suddenly, and settled on Charles.

“Jamie?” he asked, confused.

“My name is Charles,” he said nervously. “I was told to come in here and keep you company.”

“Told?” the older man’s eyes narrowed, and he sat up straighter in his chair.

“By the Duchess…”

“Oh, aye, my wife is quite adapt at telling people what to do,” he sighed, and stared over into the crackling flames. “Why are you wet?”

“I was out in the storm.”

“It seems to me that my wife must have been distracted. I think you should go and change out of those wet clothes, son.”

“I’m used to it. Don’t worry about me, sir.”

“You are dripping all over my rugs.”

“Oh…I’ll go and change, and then…then…maybe you can read to me. I don’t think I can handle reading a thick book like that to you. That beastly thing has too many words in it, too many big words that I don’t know, and probably can’t get my tongue around let my eyeballs around them.”

“My wife told you to read to me?” he asked softly. 

“Yes, sir, she did. I could tell you some stories of my time at on the high seas but they might not be polite enough for your genteel company.”

“You have been at sea?” the man’s eyes were sad.

“Yes, I was born with the sea in my blood. I think I was even born on a ship. I don’t know. I was born a bastard.” Charles actually didn’t know for certain. His mother never told him, and it was too late to ask her now. 

“Oh, pah. No man should worry about the circumstances of his birth. Go and change into some dry clothing, lad, and then…then…when you come back, I shall tell you a story or two that ought to delight a wee one such as yourself.”

*****

Archie sat grimly by Gemma’s side.

Louis-Daniel had returned with Isla and she was doing what she could. He had also located the doctor on the island, and found him too far in his cups to be of any use to them. From what he had gleaned, Louis-Daniel had left the leech a bit of a bloody mess.

Once this was all over, Archie was determined to see to it that the island received a doctor that wasn’t bosky at all hours. The islanders deserved that much.

“You should go and get some sleep, sir,” Isla said, pressing another cold cloth against Gemma’s forehead.

“I will stay here.” He looked over to where his mother had fallen asleep in a chair. His father was keeping Charles busy and out of their hair, thank heavens, and from how animated his father suddenly looked Charles was doing him a world of good. Their parents had been odd for their class—they had actually taken in interest in their children’s lives, and his father found children to be quite entertaining. 

“You are different from your brother,” Isla said softly. Isla had been his nanny and still watched over him a little too closely for his taste. 

He snorted. “I don’t think I’m that different. We can both be selfish bastards.”

“You don’t hold onto hate as furiously as he does.”

“Louis-Daniel is a passionate fellow, he has French blood in his veins that has been rather watered down in mine.”

“Aye, and his passions shall either be his salvation…or his damnation. You must endeavor to talk some sense into the man.”

“I suppose I am more reserved.”

“Indeed. I’m glad to know that you have a bit more restraint. You haven’t forced her to do anything she doesn’t want to do, which is something to be admired in a man. I have raised you well.”

“I don’t think even Louis-Daniel does that to women, he is no beast, Isla.”

“Oh, I know,” she sighed. “He just…the fire inside of his soul frightens me at times.”

His mother yawned, waking from her slumber. “Louis-Daniel doesn’t have to force the women to do his bidding. His charm enchants them to do whatever he wishes.”

“He hasn’t charmed Gemma,” Archie said.

“He wouldn’t though, would he?” his mother asked softly, “her heart belongs to you, and if a woman is truly in love, no amount of charm can pull her away from the man who possesses her heart.”

Gemma started to moan in her sleep, her head moving on the pillow. She looked as if she was in the throes of some silent battle. He wished he could pull her out of her feverish nightmares and bring her back to him where he could keep her safe. As the wind battered against the windows, Isla stood up and closed the shutters.

“There’s a devil of a storm being waged out there,” she shuddered.

“And a devil of one being waged inside of Gemma right now as well,” Archie mused.

“I think we should all get ready for a long vigil,” his mother whispered. “None of us shall sleep soundly until your wife pulls through this.”

“Malcom, no!” Gemma cried, her eyes opening briefly, and then closing again. “Don’t go…don’t leave us…I fear…I fear you won’t return.”

“Malcolm?” Margaret looked up at him. “Who is Malcolm?”

“Malcolm was her eldest brother, the one that is dead.”

“Oh.” His mother looked crestfallen. “She sounds so plaintive. They must have been close.”

“Closer than what she is with Mallory.”

“It’s always the good ones that are taken too soon,” his mother mused. And though he knew she meant to insult to him, he couldn’t help but feel a little wounded by her statement. 

“I can only pray that Gemma won’t be added to that list,” he said gruffly. His mother met his gaze.

“We won’t let her go anywhere,” she whispered. “Isla and I will see to that, but you look done in, Archie. Go and get some sleep while you can.”

“No. I won’t leave her side. I can sleep in this chair. I have gone through worse, Mama.” 

“While you were busy with Gemma, I took the liberty of sending a missive to her mother. I wanted her to know that she was being taken care of.”

“Why…” he cleared his throat. “I should have been the one to send the letter, Mama.”

“I know, but you were occupied with worry about Gemma, and I didn’t want her mother to continue fretting. You wouldn’t understand, Son.”

He fell into silence. He didn’t exactly want his mother to send a missive to them, he worried that it might tell Mallory how to find them.

“Mallory will know how to find me now. I suppose we should prepare ourselves for the inevitable clash of wills, once he arrives.” 

“Now, do you actually think I am that foolish? It will take him awhile to figure out that we’re on this particular isle.”

“Mama…”

“We are now related. We cannot hate the man forever. We shall do whatever it takes to make amends. I…I was wrong to thirst for vengeance. I was wrong, Archie, and I am sorry for it.”

He looked away from his mother. He couldn’t respond to her right now. She had set him on this path, and now, now she wanted to let it all go. He couldn’t understand it.

“I did all of this for you,” he said softly.

“I know you did, Archie, and I think it was all meant to be. You had to meet Gemma and you had to bring Charles into our lives. Your father has become very fond of the boy.”

“I know he has. In only a few short hours, Charles has managed to bring a little light into Papa’s eyes.”

Louis-Daniel ambled into the room. “She doesn’t look too good,” he mused, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Thank you for that, Louis-Daniel,” he muttered.

“I have advised Archie to let the campaign against his wife’s family go. We shall not act out against them, again. Is that clear, Louis-Daniel?”

Louis-Daniel shrugged his shoulders. “As you say,” he said softly. “However, I do not agree with it. That bastard St. Martin deserves to pay for what he has done.”

“He has done nothing,” Archie said. “He shot our brother by mistake.”

“No matter, he should still be held accountable. We have paid with blood, he should have to do the same.”

“You shot their butler, Louis-Daniel. You launched a terror campaign against them. They have suffered enough. It is over. We shan’t dig things out of the past, anymore,” his mother said firmly.

“Once, when we were both into our cups, St. Martin ruminated on that moment. He said…he said that that was the worst thing he had ever done. He said, he said that he would regret that moment until his dying day, and had to live his life to make up for it. My hatred clouded my judgement back then and I thought he was lying…but now…now, I’m not so certain. I think he might have been speaking the truth. He, he really does regret it happening. He…” Archie couldn’t continue. He looked pointedly at Louis-Daniel. Recognition flashed briefly in his brother’s eyes and then anger replaced the hurt in his eyes. Louis-Daniel had to cling to his rage or his guilt was going to drown him. 

“Do you think he knows what he did? How he tore our lives apart?” Louis-Daniel asked angrily. “He was going to kill me, thinking that I was his enemy, and instead, poor Jamie was shot.”

“I failed him,” his mother said softly. “I should have kept him away from the Royal Navy. We…he was just a boy,” she said mournfully. “No one his age should go off to war.”

“You are both wrong, but I shall go along with your wishes, Mama,” Louis-Daniel bowed stiffly and left the room, only to return not five minutes later. He looked like hell.

“You didn’t fail Jamie. I did.” Louis-Daniel stared down at the floor, not able to meet their mother’s gaze. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Had I not been there, Jamie wouldn’t have shielded me with his body. I wish that St. Martin had gotten me instead. My…my cover was almost broken, fortunately, it wasn’t unknown for brother to turn against brother—the men I was with said nothing about how devastated I was about it…they just assumed that I still loved Jamie even though my loyalties were with France. I suppose…I suppose I would have had a problem if that blundering blockhead St. Martin had managed to kill me. He…he knew there was a British agent in the area, though I doubt he ever thought that spy was me, and apparently, his superiors hadn’t told them to be on the lookout for a dashingly handsome devil such as myself,” he laughed, it was a forced nervous laugh, and it made Archie’s insides clench.

Louis-Daniel’s guilt was eating him up. He had been serving King and Country, and his loyalties had ultimately gotten Jamie killed. He couldn’t blame Louis-Daniel for it, and now…now that he rationally thought about it, he couldn’t blame St. Martin for Jamie’s death either.

“I never doubted your loyalty to us,” Margaret Campbell said. “Your father didn’t either, Louis-Daniel, and I know that Jamie never doubted you.”

“I worried that you would all hate me.”

“We couldn’t hate you,” Archie said. “And Jamie…Jamie didn’t hate you either.”

“I know,” Louis-Daniel said softly. “He said as much to me with his dying breath.”

“The hell of war tore our family apart. St. Martin had nothing to do with it,” Margaret sighed. “We must bury how we feel, and embrace our future. We must let the ghosts of the past, rest. We must let Jamie rest. He never hated anyone, I doubt he would want us to hate the St. Martins as we have done.”