Samantha James (24 page)

T
hough the night was near spent, the crush of people in Lord Chesterfield’s gilded, elegant ballroom had only recently begun to disperse. Gabriel was among those who had arrived hours ago. He drank. He talked. He laughed.

He whirled Lady Sarah around the floor and stared into smiling, upturned features. He listened idly to her chatter, but his mind was miles away. And indeed, it was not Lady Sarah he saw at all, but the image of another…of hair like a golden sunrise, of eyes as clear and bright as topaz, of lips as soft and sweet as ripe, juicy fruit.

And all the while a seething tempest of emotion squalled and churned inside him. Confusion. Pain. Resentment. And something else…

Regret.

With a start he realized the dance had ended. Lady Sarah touched his forearm. “I grow weary of so much company, my lord. Perhaps we might depart for my townhouse and more quiet surroundings.”

Dark, sultry invitation gleamed boldly in the lady’s eyes. The seductive slant of her smile proclaimed her invitation more clearly than words
themselves. But Gabriel was neither seduced nor bewitched, beckoned nor persuaded.

“I’m afraid the time is too late, my lady,” he murmured, holding her gaze. “Therefore, I must refuse your kind offer.” He knew by her indrawn breath she understood his silent message—just as he knew she had not pined his loss these many months. He kissed her fingertips in last farewell, then glanced toward the sidelines. “I do believe Lord Waverly awaits this next dance.” He bowed, made his excuses to his host, and departed.

A nagging restlessness persisted as he descended the wide stone steps. He shunned the cab the footman would have procured for him and decided to walk instead.

Wispy tendrils of fog curled all around him. The London streets were damp and deserted. The caped layers of his greatcoat swirled around his legs. His footsteps echoed on the cobblestones.

If I had to be burdened with a wife, why did I have to choose you
?

Christ! Had he really said that? What demon had possessed him?

Why couldn’t you have been barren
?

Each word sank into his brain like a hooked barb. Over and over again, his reckless taunts pounded through him, haunting him, tormenting him. A voice in his soul cried out. How could he have been so cruel? No…not just cruel.
Deliberately
cruel.

For the life of him he could not explain what provoked him. He knew only that it was as if he’d been seized by the throat. Spurred by the helpless fury that heated his blood. He’d felt as if he’d
been…tricked. Trapped. Betrayed by this beauty he now called wife…

His steps came to a halt. He ground his fingertips into his forehead, as if to drive out the devils that possessed him.

A shuffle of sound nearby roused him. He raised his head. It was then that he saw her—a woman leaning against the corner of a crumbling brick building.

She was poor—and with child—soon to deliver from the look of her. She was young, far younger than he, yet the sorrows of the ancients dwelled in her eyes. A heavy mist had begun to fall, but she wore no cloak to protect her from the elements; her clothing was little more than rags.

But it was on her tremendous belly, heavy and swollen with her burden, that his gaze lingered endlessly.

Cassie, too, he thought numbly, would soon be cradling a babe in her arms. But no, that was not right…Not just a babe.
His
babe.

For an instant Gabriel could not breathe. His breath burned like fire in his lungs. The enormity of that realization washed through him, humbling him, nearly bringing him to his knees.

Why couldn’t you have been barren…barren…

Self-disgust ate into his stomach like acid. He had treated her as if she had done something wrong—as if this were all her fault! But if the blame were to be placed on anyone, it belonged squarely on his shoulders.

His lips twisted. He’d made precious little effort to restrain his desire. Night after night he had wanted her. Night after night he had taken her.
Selfishly. Uncaring of the consequences—refusing to even
consider
those consequences.

Yet he’d hated himself for making love to her. Because every time, he’d felt as though he had lost a part of himself…

He fumbled beneath the layers of his greatcoat. The woman watched him warily, retreating a step as though she did not trust his motives. But when he pulled out a small pouch stuffed full of coins, her eyes widened.

He extended it toward her. “Here,” he said with a nod. “Take it.”

Her cracked lips parted. She gaped openly. “But, sir…’tis surely a fortune.”

The merest hint of a smile creased his mouth. She reminded him just a little of Cassie, that very first night at Black Jack’s. She, too, had been struck dumb by the pile of silver coin on the dresser.

He shook his head. “Hardly a fortune,” he corrected. “But if you guard it wisely, ’tis enough to tide you over for many months, you and your babe.” He dropped it into her palm.

The woman looked up at him, both awed and moved beyond measure. “Oh, bless you, sir.” She clutched the pouch to her breast and looked up at him. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “You are a saint, truly a saint. And I will never forget you—never!”

He watched as she ran off around the corner, then continued on his way. But when he arrived at his townhouse, it was not his own bedchamber that he sought, but that of his coachman.

Thomas rubbed his eyes sleepily. “My lord! What is it? Is something amiss?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’ve decided to return to Farleigh, Thomas.”

The young man blinked. Through the narrow window at the foot of his bed, he saw that streaks of dawn pinkened the eastern sky. “Now, my lord?”

Gabriel nodded. Thomas dallied no longer but reached for his clothes.

A short time later, Gabriel closed the carriage door. No doubt Thomas thought him mad—returning to Farleigh when they’d scarce been in London half a day. A self-deprecating smile rimmed his lips. And perhaps he
was
just a little mad…

It was mid-morning when they finally passed through the iron gates of Farleigh Hall.

He had no more than stepped into the entrance hall than he knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.

A dozen servants milled near the other end of the gallery. It was the little maid Gloria he spied first. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, as if she’d been weeping for hours. Mrs. McGee was patting her shoulder, only slightly less teary-eyed.

So distracted were they that not a one of them heard his entrance.

“What the devil goes on here?”

An odd pall seemed to fall over the assembly. It was Davis who stepped forth, his expression harried as Gabriel had never seen it.

The old man cleared his throat. “My lord, I fear we have dreadful news to impart.”

“Do not mince words, Davis.” Gabriel’s tone came out sharper than he intended. “Just come out with it.”

“Very well, then, my lord. Her ladyship was not
in her bed this morning…to all appearances it was not even slept in. Our first thought was that she had gone to London to be with you. Yet she asked no one to drive her, and her horse was in the stables. Therefore, we thought it best to continue searching.” He faltered, a faint distress flitting across his face. “My lord, she is nowhere to be found.”

“What! But, that is impossible.”

Davis’s features were very grave. “No, my lord. We have searched the house from top to bottom. And we’ve every hand out combing the grounds this very instant.” He hesitated. “There has been no sign of her, my lord. We know nothing except…a number of her gowns are missing. And Gloria believes a small bag as well.”

Gabriel’s blood froze. All conscious thought fled his mind. His skin was ashen.

“My lord, ’tis possible her ladyship found some other way to London—”

“She did not,” he said in an odd, strained voice. A sick sensation knotted his belly, mounting until he felt he could not breathe.

“My lord—”

Before their horrified eyes, he bolted up the stairs. There was a mighty crash as Cassie’s door banged open. To anyone who might have looked on, he must have appeared crazed. But there was no one to see, no one who might know how truly alone he was.

Alone…as never before.

A dainty lace handkerchief lay near her wardrobe. He picked it up, staring at the delicate scrap of fabric.

There was an awful tearing in his chest. Her
image played again and again through his mind. He saw her as she had been when last he’d seen her, shocked and stricken, pale and ashen, her expression bruised and wounded and pleading.

“Cassie,” he cried. His fingers crushed the handkerchief in his palm. “
Cassie
.”

Edmund returned home three days later. In the entrance hall, Davis swept the doors wide and bowed low. “Your Grace, ’tis good that you have returned.”

“’Tis good to be back, Davis.” He handed the butler his hat and cane. “Is Gabriel at home?”

It was a moment before Davis replied. To Edmund’s surprise, the butler appeared discomfited. “He is upstairs in his chamber, Your Grace.”

Edmund frowned, for it was unusual for the man to display anything but aplomb. “Is something wrong, Davis?”

“All has not been well in your absence, Your Grace. But I do believe you will wish to hear it from his lordship—”

Edmund had already started up the stairs. “Your Grace,” the butler called, “you should know…his lordship is not himself…”

An understatement, to be sure.

The drapes had been drawn and closed tight. Only a wintry trickle of light seeped through. Standing on the threshold of his son’s room, it was several seconds before Edmund’s eyes adjusted to the gloom.

Then he could only stare. He had seen his son angry. Fighting mad. Defiant and rebellious and unafraid of anyone.

Never in his life had he seen Gabriel like this.

He was sprawled in the chair near the window. He wore no jacket. His shirt was half-in, half-out of his breeches; wrinkled and untidy, it looked as if it had been slept in for days. His jaw and cheeks were dark with stubble. The air reeked with the unmistakable odor of stale brandy.

“Gabriel…Gabriel, my God, you’re foxed!”

Slowly Gabriel raised his head. Bleary, bloodshot eyes sought to focus. To his brandy-laden mind, it seemed only fitting that his father be here to witness his misery.

A hard smile twisted his lips. “That I am, Father. And that I shall stay.”

Edmund’s gaze narrowed. “What’s the meaning of this? And where is Cassandra? In London?”

Cassie
. The very mention of her name sent knifelike pains shooting through Gabriel’s heart. When he shook his head, his father persisted. “Where then?”

Gabriel’s lips drew back over his teeth. His arm came out in a wide arc, sending empty bottles and glasses crashing to the floor from the table next to him.

“Christ,” he shouted, a furious rage suddenly exploding inside him. “Do you have to hear me say it? She left me. Goddammit, she left me!”

Edmund jerked, as if a giant fist had plowed into his belly. “Dear God,” he said faintly.

Gabriel turned blistering eyes upon him. “There’s no need to pretend,” he sneered. “Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”

Not anymore, Edmund thought dazedly. God in heaven, not anymore.

Lord, but he’d been so very stubborn…Too proud to readily admit his heart was softening. For the life of him, Edmund did not know precisely when it had happened…But there was no denying the truth. The country of her birth was no longer of any consequence, nor was her former station in life. Somewhere along the line, the chit had sneaked her way into his heart. He had opened it just a crack and she had slipped inside…

Shame poured through him like boiling oil. He deserved his son’s scorn. He deserved his condemnation, and so much more…

Gabriel’s anger drained as suddenly as it had erupted. “She’s with child,” he said heavily. “That’s what started it all.”

Edmund inhaled sharply. “Gabriel, you must think. Where would she go?”

“I don’t know. Christ, I-I just don’t know! Lady Evelyn has heard nothing. Neither has Christopher.” Leaning forward, he braced his forehead in his hands. His voice dropped, so low Edmund had to strain to hear. “She took only a few of her belongings. All I can think is that she’s out there somewhere. Cold. Hungry. With no money. Nowhere to stay.”

“Gabriel, we will find her. Never doubt it.”

“We won’t,” he said hoarsely. “I deserve this, don’t you see? She didn’t want to marry me.” His mouth twisted. “She thought she wasn’t good enough to marry a lord. She thought she wasn’t worthy. But she fooled us all…she fooled us all.”

Slowly he raised his head. “She was crying when I left. I did not care. Heartless bastard that I am, I
did not care.” There was a heavy pause. “I can still hear her crying,” he whispered.

Edmund’s skin prickled eerily, for Gabriel looked not at him, but through him, his features etched with a tortured despair.

“When she told me she was with child…I was so angry. I didn’t spare a thought for her—or even myself. The only thing going through my mind was how you’d said you wanted a grandchild…”

Edmund had gone very still. He had begun to form a very clear picture of all that had transpired, a very clear picture indeed.

“I said…such terrible things. Things I did not truly mean.” His voice grew raw. “Things that should never have been said…”

Edmund sighed. He had crossed the floor before he knew it, and dropped his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “So do we all, boy,” he said quietly. “So do we all.”

Gabriel said nothing. Edmund’s face was lined and grim as he looked down at his son’s dark head. “God knows I am the last one to offer words of wisdom. You can only hope she will forgive you, Gabriel. But first,” his tone was grim, “first you must find her.”

O
n this particular night in late March, the Hare’s Den was packed to the rafters. As usual when a fishing vessel returned to port, there was scarcely a seat left in the common room. Coarse male shouts and ribald laughter filled the air, filtering all the way back to where Cassie stood in the kitchen.

She rubbed the small of her back, which ached almost constantly now. The thin slippers she wore were unlaced to accommodate her swollen feet. Though she’d have liked nothing more than to beg Avery’s indulgence and creep off early to her cubbyhole in the attic, she did not. Avery ran his establishment with an iron fist, and he did not hesitate to use it on the help.

When she had left Farleigh, her only objective was to get away. She had eventually made her way to London, where she hoped to find employment working for a modiste. One look at her shabby, wrinkled appearance and she was turned away time and time again. And even while the babe within her rounded and swelled, her hopes were gnashed to bits. She was forced to sell off what
few possessions she had been able to take with her in order to simply put food in her mouth.

London had been as terrifying as she remembered—and far less friendly than she recalled. Though Cassie would have joyously accepted even the most menial of jobs, one scornful glance at her expanding middle and the door was slammed in her face. She had spent the first weeks in January begging on the streets.

Then came the day she thought she spied Gabriel near the riverfront. Once again, she fled. It was only later she realized how foolish it was to think he would even care should he chance to see her.

No doubt he thought he was well rid of her.

It was at a local inn in a fishing village near Brighton that her journey ended. The cook’s assistant had quit to join the crew of a cargo ship bound for India. Though she would not have thought it possible, Avery was far worse than Black Jack had ever been. The wage he paid her was but a pittance. Still, he allowed her to sleep in the attic, and he allotted her a meal a day, to be taken after her work was done.

A sudden tightening of her belly made her draw a deep breath. Her hands gripped the edge of the wooden table; she smiled slightly as the spasm eased.

He moved often now, this child beneath her heart. She carried a boy, of that she was convinced. But her smile was altogether fleeting. Gabriel would never see his son. He would never know his son.

He did not
want
his son.

Unwittingly, her mind spanned the weeks, back to her last days at Farleigh. Oh, what a fool she had been! She had thought that Gabriel had begun to care for her, perhaps even love her a little. And she had so hoped the baby might be a new beginning for them, that they might truly begin to build a life together, and at last put vengeance and mistrust behind them.

Someday, she told herself, this bittersweet pain in her soul would lessen. But when…
when
?

As for the future, Cassie dared not speculate. She was well aware that Avery would not let her stay once the baby was born. His greed would not allow him to tolerate an idle pair of hands for even a few days. He would thrust her back out into the streets, and then where would she be, for who would hire a woman with a babe in her arms? So while her body ached from hour upon hour of exhausting toil, fear and worry preyed upon her endlessly.

Her mind thus occupied, she did not notice Avery’s entrance into the kitchen.

“Did you not hear me, girl?” He pinched the side of her breast cruelly. “We need help out in the common room, so stop your dallying! Some well-breeched young gent’s decided he wants brandy, not ale—the table in the far corner. See to it and be quick about it!”

Cassie hastened to obey. As she placed a bottle of brandy onto a tray, she caught sight of her hands. Between the winter’s cold and the hours spent scrubbing the floor, they were chafed and reddened, as badly as they’d been at Black Jack’s. She smiled rather sadly. Definitely not the hands
of a lady. Evelyn would have been horrified.

Seconds later she walked across the floor of the common room, her gait careful as she headed toward the table in the corner. Though the memory made her ache inside, Cassie could not help but recall another time when she had taken a bottle of brandy to another rich, well-dressed gentleman…

Across the crowded room, she spotted him. He was alone, his back to her. All at once a staggering dread gripped her chest. Her breath caught halfway up her throat. The tilt of his head was so very familiar, the set of his shoulders wide and proud. Her heart lurched. Oh, but her mind was playing cruel tricks on her. And surely her eyes played her false…

He turned his head then, providing her a clear view of his profile, flawlessly chiseled and wickedly handsome.

Her heart began to pound. She felt the blood drain from her face. The tray slipped from trembling fingers. “No,” she whispered faintly. “Oh, no…”

In the weeks after Cassie’s disappearance, Gabriel knew fear as never before.

He despised himself for lashing her with his tongue as he had. All along, he had thought only of himself—and getting even with his father. He had used her with a callous disregard for her feelings and how all this would affect her. Yet for all her starch and spirit, she was scarcely invincible…

He had hurt her, hurt her immeasurably.

Though he fought it with all he possessed, there were times he could not control the wandering of his mind. Times when his thoughts veered straight to his mother. It was despair which had killed his mother…what if he’d driven Cassie to the same fate?

It was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat. Surely the hand of Providence could not be so cruel as to deal him such a blow
twice…

Gabriel was not a man to pray, but he prayed as never before.

Four months later, he had begun to despair of ever finding her.

In the hope that it would give him more time to devote to finding her, he had decided to sell a portion of his shipping business. It was this which brought him to this small village near Brighton. The owner of a fishing fleet there had inherited a goodly sum from an uncle, and had expressed an interest in purchasing several of his vessels. An hour of dickering and they had finally settled on a price and terms. His solicitor would visit as soon as the papers were drawn up.

Now, his dealings concluded, Gabriel sat alone, feeling morose and detached and totally unmindful of his boisterous surroundings. Thomas had gone back outside to await him in the carriage, yet Gabriel could not find the energy to move.

It was then that his ears picked out a crash, and the splintering sound of glass…He glanced around in idle curiosity.

Suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

Oddly, it was the shape of her that registered first—round, full, heavy with child.

In a heartbeat, he was on his feet, the movement so sudden his chair banged to the floor behind him. “Cassie…
Cassie
!”

Sheer horror flooded her eyes. She whirled, her intention plainly to put as much distance between them as possible. But she hadn’t gone more than a few steps before she found herself jerked around.

It was Avery. His fingers bit cruelly into her flesh. He shoved her back against the end of a table. Had Cassie not flung her hand behind her to reach for the edge, she would have lost her balance.

He drew back his fist. “You clumsy bitch!” he snarled. “You’ll pay for that, by Gawd!”

Before he could make good his threat, his arm was wrenched behind his back. “Lay a hand on her,” said a voice from behind him, “and I promise you’ll never see the dawn of another day.” For all that his tone was deadly calm, Gabriel’s face was a mask of lethal fury—and unrelenting purpose.

“All right, all right—just let me be!” Avery whirled, his thick lips curled. He had backed off but he was hardly subdued. “What’s it to you if I give the wench the clubbing she deserves? It just so happens I pay ’er wages—”

“And it just so happens she’s carrying my babe, so you’d be wise to find yourself another barmaid. She’s leaving with me, and I’ll kill any man who thinks to try and stop me.” It was not a threat, but a mere statement of fact. The atmosphere had gone utterly quiet—and utterly sober.

Glittering and dangerous, Gabriel’s gaze encompassed the room. “No? A wise choice, gentlemen.” He flipped a gold coin toward Avery. It struck the
floor, landing between his feet. “Here. That should more than cover the cost of the brandy.” With that he caught Cassie’s hand.

Struck dumb by his presence, Cassie was scarcely aware as he tugged her toward the door. Her head was still spinning, her heart pounding madly as he nudged her into the carriage and slammed the door. A signal to Thomas and they were off.

She shivered, whether from cold or reaction she did not know. Gabriel was here…
here
. A dozen different emotions blustered and squalled within her. Anger. Frustration. Strongest of all was a soul-deep humiliation.

“I think you owe me an explanation. What the
devil
were you doing in that place?”

He sat across from her, silently accusing. Harshly condemning. Her gaze dropped. She began to tremble. Oh, why did he have to find her—why did it have to be
here
? Her face burned with shame and embarrassment. Nor did she want him to see her like this—oh, she knew how terrible she looked. Her hair had lost its luster. Her skin was pale, stretched tautly over her cheekbones. She felt so ugly and cumbersome…A pang rent her breast. Oh, but how fitting that was! Hadn’t Gabriel told her that long-ago day she would forever be an encumbrance?

She could not stand to be an obligation. A duty. Didn’t he know that was why she’d left?

“Answer me, Cassie. What the hell are you doing here?”

She stared at her hands, clasped in her lap as she sought to still their shaking. Her lips began
to quiver. She could not summon the courage to meet his gaze.

“Dammit,
look
at me!”

She did. It proved her downfall. Her mouth was tremulous. Tears stung the back of her throat. Her chest hurt with the effort it took not to break down. “Why did you have to find me?” she said brokenly. “Why?”

His jaw locked hard and tight. “What! Do you mean to tell me you would prefer to remain here? You were so anxious to escape the life you knew at Black Jack’s—but that place is no better than all you left behind in Charleston! I still can’t believe you left me—and for this yet!”

“Did you think that was what I wanted? I tried to find a position as a seamstress in London…And then I thought I saw you there…I knew I must flee…”

In jagged bursts her story came out. Gabriel went white as he listened. Guilt and shame forged a searing blot on his soul. He had no one to blame but himself. To think of her alone on the streets of London, with no money, nowhere to stay…She could have been robbed, beaten, killed!

His hands came down on her shoulders. He dragged her onto the seat next to him. His fingers curled into her arms. “God,” he cried. “Did you really think I wouldn’t look for you? How could you think that—how?”

Tears welled in her beautiful golden eyes. “How could I not?” A million layers of hurt bled through her tremulous whisper.

Gabriel shook his head, his tone as anguished as hers. “I was a fool, Cassie. I was wrong to say what
I did, for I did not mean it, I swear! I came back to Farleigh that same night, only to find you gone…I know I hurt you and I would take it back if only I could. But I have suffered, too…My God, did you ever think how I would feel when I discovered you gone? All these weeks of searching, wondering where you were, if you were all right…I nearly went out of my mind! And you could have come home, Cassie. You
should
have!”

She hugged herself, trying hard not to tremble and failing miserably. “To what? Your scorn? Your disdain? You did not want me,” she cried with heartbreaking candor. “I could not stay knowing how you felt…I had to leave…don’t you see, I had to!”

Her despair was his undoing. It wrenched at everything inside him. She resisted as he began to pull her close, but she was no match for either his strength or his resolve. His embrace engulfed her; with his arms he encircled her tight and close, wrapping his greatcoat around them both.

At his touch, something inside her seemed to break loose. Suddenly it was all pouring out. Her heartache and grief. Her shame and fear.

“All I ever wanted was to please you. I wanted to be the lady…you thought I could never be.” Her fingers clenched and unclenched on his chest. “I should have known better than to hope…My mother did not want me. Your father did not want me.
You
did not want me.” She began to sob. Helplessly. Uncontrollably. “What’s wrong with me, Gabriel? What’s wrong with me?”

His hold tightened. His heart twisted as he held her, her arms so brittle he thought they might
break. “There’s nothing wrong with you, love.” His whisper brushed the baby-soft skin of her temple. He kissed away the tears cascading from her eyes. “You’re sweet and lovely. Beautiful and desirable. All a man could want. All
I
want.”

If she heard, there was no sign of it. She lay against him and cried her heart out until she was limp and exhausted, her emotions bled dry. Gabriel held her, his own throat achingly tight. At last strain and fatigue took their toll; she fell asleep curled against his chest.

It was very late when the carriage rolled down the long curving lane toward Farleigh Hall. Gabriel’s expression was bleak as he carried her up the staircase to her room. He tugged off her gown and slippers, laid her on the bed, and tucked the counterpane beneath her chin.

She stirred, uttering a low moan. Gabriel was beside her in an instant. “Hush, love,” he soothed. With his fingertips he swept a tangle of golden strands from the curve of her cheek. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

She quieted, turning her cheek into his palm. She seemed so pale and fragile, he thought with a knifelike pang. With a sigh of weariness, he straightened. In the darkness he stripped off his clothes and slipped in beside her. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he reached for her, drawing her loosely into his arms. She nestled against him, unconsciously seeking his warmth.