As the wheels of their town coach went clattering away down the drive, Samantha was left all alone with only the invalid’s chair for company. She glared at the hateful thing, wanting nothing more than to claw the stuffing out of its horse-hair cushions with her bare hands.
Instead, she lit an Argand lamp and rested it on the table beside the window. She had been standing there for several minutes, her troubled gaze searching the shadows, before she realized what she’d done. It wasn’t as if she could depend upon the lamp’s glow to guide Gabriel home.
Perhaps his mother was right. Perhaps she should send someone out to search for him. But it hardly seemed fair to send the servants out to drag him home as if he were a recalcitrant child who had run away over some petty slight.
What if he didn’t want to be found? What if he was weary to death of everyone trying to impose their expectations on him? His family had made it clear that they only wanted their Gabriel back—the man who had strode through life with unswerving confidence, charming his way into every heart he encountered.
Despite her passionate denouncement, was she truly any better than them? She had come to this place believing she wanted only to help him. But she was beginning to question her own motives, to wonder if her selfless devotion was hiding a very selfish heart.
Samantha gazed down at the lamp’s flame. Its flickering light couldn’t guide Gabriel home.
But she could.
Taking up the lamp, she slipped out the French window and into the night.
Samantha struck out for the woods, since that was where Gabriel had disappeared. The lamp, which had seemed so bright in the house, cast a pale glow around her, barely bright enough to hold the shadows at bay. Its flame was dwarfed by the velvety blackness of the moonless night sky, the tangle of branches above her head as she slipped into the woods. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to live in such darkness night and day.
As the canopy of branches thickened, blocking out every trace of the sky, her steps slowed. Nightfall had transformed Fairchild Park from an artfully designed landscape into an uncharted wilderness, fraught with perils and terrors. She picked her way over the trunk of a fallen tree, unsettled by the mysterious rustling and the eerie cries of unseen night creatures. She was beginning to yearn for Gabriel’s big, strong body in more ways than one.
“Gabriel?” she called out softly, not wanting to risk the servants back at the house hearing her.
The only answer was a renewed rustling in the underbrush coming from somewhere behind her. Samantha stopped. So did the rustling. She took one tentative step, then another. The rustling resumed. Hoping and praying that it was only her starched petticoats, she held them off the ground and took another step. The rustling grew even louder. She stopped again, her fingers freezing into icy claws around the handle of the lamp. The rustling ceased, only to be replaced by a feral panting, so near Samantha would have sworn she could almost feel the hot breath of some invisible predator on the back of her neck.
There could be no doubt about it.
Someone…or something…was following her.
Mustering all of her courage, she whirled around, swinging the lamp in front of her. “Show yourself!”
A pair of moist brown eyes emerged from the shadows, followed by a wriggling body and a wagging tail.
“Sam!” Samantha breathed, dropping to her knees. “Shame on you, you bad dog!” Despite her rebuke, she scooped the dog into her arms, cradling him to her pounding heart. “I shouldn’t scold, should I?” She straightened, stroking his silky ears. “I suppose you just want to find him, too.”
As she ventured deeper into the woods, calling Gabriel’s name at ever more frequent intervals, she clung to the small collie, reluctant to surrender his comforting warmth. She had been walking for a long time before she realized that there was no way to retrace her steps. She was beginning to believe that Gabriel was probably going to have to send the servants out to look for her when a large structure loomed out of the darkness. Half wood and half stone, it appeared to be some sort of barn or stable, long deserted and long forgotten.
Perhaps it was a place Gabriel had known when he roamed these woods as a boy. A place where he might seek shelter if he stumbled upon it.
Still clutching both the lamp and the dog, Samantha nudged open the door hanging half off its hinges, wincing at its piercing creak.
She held up the lamp, scattering a wan circle of lamplight across ancient oak beams, moldering piles of hay, rotting bridles, and rusty bits hanging on splintered wooden pegs.
No longer able to ignore his wiggling, Samantha put Sam down so he could run around and sniff everything in sight. Except for the mice rustling in the hay, they seemed to be the only living creatures in attendance.
“Gabriel?” she called out, reluctant to disturb the unnatural hush. “Are you here?”
She wandered deeper into the gloom. Near the center of the stable, a rickety wooden ladder disappeared into the darkness above.
Samantha sighed. She had no desire to risk her neck exploring some rotting loft, but there was no point in coming this far and not investigating every possibility. Gabriel might not be here now, but perhaps she would discover some sign that he had been.
Looping her long skirts over her arm and balancing the lamp carefully in one hand, she began the long, awkward ascent up the ladder. Menacing shadows danced ahead of her, fleeing the lamp’s flickering glow. When she finally reached the top and hauled herself onto the dusty planks, she breathed a sign of relief.
The loft appeared to be as deserted as the rest of the stable. There was no sign that anyone had taken shelter there in the past twenty years. The night sky was visible through the square of the open loft door, moonless, but not completely devoid of light. A milky sprinkling of stars had been flung across its inky canopy.
Samantha turned, narrowing her eyes to scan the shadows beneath the beams. Was it her imagination or had she detected a hint of motion? What if Gabriel had sought shelter here after all? What if he had somehow hurt himself and was unable to answer her call? She pressed deeper into the loft, shuddering when a thick veil of cobwebs brushed the top of her head.
“Is anyone here?” she whispered, swinging the lamp ahead of her.
The shadows exploded into motion. Samantha went stumbling backward, surrounded by the frantic whir of leathery wings and high-pitched squeaks. As the startled bats abandoned their roost and went darting toward the open loft door, she instinctively threw up her arms to shield her hair and eyes from their thrashing wings.
The lamp flew from her hand and went sailing over the edge of the loft, landing on the dirt floor below in an explosion of glass. The last of the bats vanished into the night. Spurred on by Sam’s startled yelp and the acrid stench of smoldering lamp oil, Samantha lunged for the ladder, thinking only to extinguish the blaze before it could ignite the hay and engulf the entire stable.
She was a third of the way down the ladder when her foot plunged right through a rotting rung, shattering her balance as well as the wood. She teetered precariously for what seemed like an eternity, poised between despair and hope, then went plummeting backward off the ladder into empty air.
She heard her head strike the floor with a dull thud, heard Sam whimpering as he licked her cheek and nudged her ear with his cold, wet nose, heard the hungry crackling as the flames began to lick at the hay.
“Gabriel?” she whispered, seeing him smiling down at her in the sunlight in the instant before her own world dissolved into darkness.
Chapter Sixteen
My darling Cecily,
You call me both persistent and persuasive yet you resist my charms at every turn…
Gabriel sat just inside the door of the folly, listening to the brook gurgle its way over the rocks. The roofless structure had been constructed to resemble the crumbling turret of some ancient castle. As a lad, he had spent many thrilling hours waving a wooden sword to rescue it from barbarian hordes who bore a marked res
emblance to his baby sisters.
He sat on a stone bench with his back to the wall, his long legs sprawled in front of him. The night breeze ruffled his hair. It had fallen half out of its leather queue, veiling the jagged evidence of his scar. He bore other signs of the day’s misadventures as well. His boots were scuffed, the sleeve of his shirt shredded by brambles. There was a fresh scrape on the back of his hand and a painful knot on his knee.
But the deepest wound he bore had been done to his heart when he had overheard the exchange between his mother and Samantha.
After wandering aimlessly in the woods for hours, using a branch as a makeshift walking stick, he had finally blundered his way back to the house. Thinking to slip in undetected, he had felt his way around the walls until he found an open window. But his plans were thwarted when his mother’s voice came drifting through that window.
…it would have been a blessing if my son had died on the deck of that ship. A blessing for his life to have ended cleanly and quickly. Then he wouldn’t have had to go on suffering. He wouldn’t have to go on living this—this miserable half-life as half a man!
Gabriel had slumped against the wall, shaking his head. His mother’s words did not possess the power to wound him. They only confirmed what he had long suspected.
And how convenient that would have been for you!
He was turning away from the window when Samantha’s voice rang out, freezing him in his tracks. He cocked his head to the side, seduced by both the fury and the passion of her words. He would have given almost anything to see his mother’s face in that moment. He doubted that anyone had ever dared speak to Clarissa Fair-child, the marchioness of Thornwood, with such unrepentant cheek.
It’s because he knows exactly what you’re all thinking every time you look at him. Your son may be blind, my lady, but he’s not stupid.
When Samantha was done, it was all he could do not to step into that room and shout, Bravo! while giving her a hearty round of applause.
“That’s my girl,” he had whispered, realizing with his next breath that it was true.
That was the blow that had left his heart reeling. The blow that had sent him staggering away from the house to seek refuge in the cool seclusion of the folly.
Gabriel turned his face toward a sky he could not see, the merry babbling of the brook mocking him. It seemed he had squandered most of his youth worshiping at the altar of beauty, only to fall in love with a woman he had never seen.
He didn’t even care what Samantha looked like, he realized with a shock. Her beauty had nothing to do with creamy skin, a dimpled cheek, or long, luxuriant hair the color of warm honey. She might be as homely as a troll, but she would still be irresistible to him. Her beauty radiated from within—from her intelligence, her passion, her stubborn insistence on making him a better man than he ever believed he could be.
He was no longer willing to settle for anything less. Even his beloved Cecily had turned out to be nothing more than a beautiful dream that had faded in the harsh light of dawn. He might not be able to see her, but he knew in his heart that Samantha would be there every time he reached for her.
Gabriel fumbled for his makeshift walking stick. He might as well return to the house and take his scolding. Samantha would no doubt consider his eavesdropping to be the very height of ill manners. But perhaps it would soften her temper when he confessed that he adored her more than life itself. As he rose, a grin touched his lips. He wished he could see his mother’s face when he informed her that he had every intention of marrying his nurse.
Gabriel was halfway to the house when he heard a familiar barking coming from the direction of the woods.
“What in the devil—?” he managed to get out before something small and sturdy came barreling into his legs, nearly knocking him over.
Not even Sam’s clumsy exuberance could spoil Gabriel’s good humor. “You’re going to be the death of me one of these days,” he chided, using the branch to steady himself.
As he continued toward the house, he could hear the dog dancing in circles around him, barking frantically and making every step a potential hazard. “What are you trying to do, Sam? Wake the dead?”
In reply, the dog grabbed the end of the branch, nearly yanking it out of Gabriel’s grip. Although Gabriel tugged back, the dog was not to be dissuaded. He sank his teeth deep into the wood, growling low in his throat.
With an exasperated oath, Gabriel knelt in the dew-soaked grass. Instead of leaping into his arms as he expected, the collie caught Gabriel’s already mangled sleeve between his teeth and began to tug at it, alternating between growling and whimpering.
“For God’s sake, what is it?” Gabriel tried to gather the dog in his arms, but Sam fought to escape him, quivering and bucking like some sort of wild thing.
Gabriel frowned. The little collie hated to be outside after dark. By this time of night, he was usually curled up on Gabriel’s pillow, snoring contentedly. Why would he suddenly choose to brave the woods all alone after dark?
He wouldn’t.
That still, small voice in Gabriel’s head contained the ring of absolute truth. Sam would only brave the woods by night if he were accompanying someone. Someone who might be out looking for Gabriel. Someone like Samantha.
Ignoring his frantic wriggling, Gabriel sniffed at the dog’s fur. Sure enough, the unmistakable fragrance of lemon verbena clung to his silky coat. But its crisp sweetness was nearly eclipsed by another odor, bitter and dark.
Smoke.
Gabriel stood abruptly, sniffing at the air. Anyone else might have attributed the hint of ash in the air to a wisp of wood smoke curling its way up a chimney. But it flooded Gabriel’s lungs like a dark mist of dread.
The dog slipped from his arms. Still barking frantically, Sam raced a few feet toward the woods, then darted back to Gabriel’s feet, as if urging him to follow.
Gabriel stood there, torn between the house and the woods. He needed help, but Samantha needed him, and there was no way of knowing how much time he had lost trying to interpret the dog’s signals.
He finally turned in what he hoped was the direction of the house and bellowed, “Fire! Fire!!!” at the top of his lungs. He would have almost sworn he heard a door opening and a startled female voice, but he didn’t have time to linger and make sure.
“Take me to her, Sam! Go!” he commanded, following the sound of the dog’s frantic yips.
Needing no other encouragement, Sam took off into the woods. Gabriel went crashing after him, swinging his branch like a sword.
Ignoring the bite of the brambles and the sting of the branches slapping at his face, Gabriel charged through the woods like some sort of wild beast. He fell more than once, stumbling over rotting tree trunks and exposed roots. But he dragged himself to his feet and kept going, stopping every few paces to listen for Sam’s ringing bark.
If he lagged too far behind, the dog would come bounding back to his side, as if to make sure he was still following. With each step Gabriel took, the smell of smoke grew stronger.
After a grueling plunge through the underbrush, he stumbled to a halt in some sort of clearing. He cocked his head to listen, hearing nothing but the peaceful night sounds of the forest. Fighting panic, he concentrated harder, finally catching Sam’s bark—distant, but still audible. Gabriel took off in that direction, hell-bent on reaching Samantha before the dog had to retrace his steps again.
The smoke was no longer a smell, but a palpable presence, thick and choking. As Gabriel rushed blindly through it, his branch struck something immovable, snapping in two. He hurled it away. Clawing back a curtain of ivy, he flattened one palm against the rough-hewn surface. The stone wall was hot enough to make him snatch back his hand.
He must have arrived at the old stable at the very edge of the Fairchild property. The structure had been abandoned long before he was born.
“Samantha!” he shouted, feeling frantically for some sort of opening.
Sam was barking wil
dly now, near hysteria. Gabriel followed the sound to an open door. The dog rushed inside the stable and Gabriel knew he had no choice but to follow. He couldn’t afford to wait for someone from the house to find them. He was Samantha’s only hope.
Taking a deep breath, he dashed after the dog. He could hear the crackling flames licking at the ancient timber beams above him. The roiling smoke curled deep into his lungs, seeking to crowd out all of the air.
“Samantha!” he shouted hoarsely, praying that she could still hear him.
He had taken only a few steps when he heard a loud crack. Before he could throw up a hand, something heavy struck him sharply on the temple.
Gabriel began to fall in the barn, but when he landed, he was back on the heaving deck of the Victory with shrapnel whistling overhead and the acrid stench of cannon fire singeing his nostrils. Blood trickled down his face, into his eyes and mouth, and when he lifted his aching head, he saw Nelson crumpling to the deck in slow motion, his face a mask of bewilderment.
Gabriel’s hands clenched into fists. Nelson had died on his watch. Samantha would not.
Summoning every last ounce of his will, he staggered to his feet, throwing a hand up to shield his face from the burning embers raining down from the loft. Sam’s bark had shifted to a high-pitched whimpering that sounded almost eerily human.
Half lunging, half crawling, Gabriel fought his way across the floor to the sound. Something crunched beneath his boot. When he reached down and felt the twisted frames of Samantha’s spectacles, his heart nearly stopped.
But then his searching hands closed over something warm and soft. He drew Samantha’s limp body up and into his arms, shuddering with relief when he felt the whisper of her breath against his face.
“Hold on, angel,” he whispered, pressing a fervent kiss to her brow. “Just hold on to me and everything will be all right.”
Carrying her like a child, he went lunging back toward the direction he had come, trusting that Sam would follow. As he stumbled out of the door, the stable collapsed behind them in a roaring inferno, the blast of heat nearly knocking Gabriel off his feet.
Yours Until Dawn Page 17
