“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.”
“If we must blame anyone—you can blame me,” Louis-Daniel said. “Still, I want to see St. Martin pay. I need to put my hate somewhere, or I just might destroy myself.”
“You must let it go, Louis-Daniel. Do it for me,” Margaret urged.
Louis-Daniel gave their mother a rare smile. “I shall try. I…I am famished. I am going to go and seek out some food. Before I had to fetch Isla and the drunk doc, I was having a rather diverting bit of fun, and I worked up quite the appetite.”
“Exerting, was it?” His mother raised her eyebrow and pinned her eyes on him. “Pray, do one other thing for me, Louis-Daniel.”
“Anything, Mama.” Louis-Daniel swept into a low bow.
“Try to stop your rakish ways. You act like a scoundrel, and I do want to see…to see…”
“To see any of my by-blows show up at the castle?”
Archie sighed heavily, and his mother looked pained. “You must find a wife and settle down the way that Archie has done.”
“I do not want a wife like Lady Northam. I want a wife with passion—I want a wife who is willing to share my bed whenever I want her to—and moreover, I want her to want to share my bed. I don’t know if I shall find anyone with that sort of passionate nature in England…or Scotland for that matter.”
“Well, we…you…” Margaret’s face went a bright red. “Run along and go down to the kitchens, and Louis-Daniel…”
“Yes, Mama?”
“Keep your hands to yourself while you are down there,” she said reprovingly. “The maids here…they all like you a little too much. You have their confidence. They tell you everything and don’t think I don’t know they do, you mustn’t mess about with them, is that clear?”
“Yes, Mama,” he said.
Archie snickered, and looked away from his brother’s glare. With a rattling sigh, his mother stood up. “I shall walk with you as far as the Library, Louis-Daniel. I want to look in on your father and Charles. I think…I think after that I should like to retire to my bed. Isla, will you stay with Archie and Gemma?”
“Aye,” Isla said, taking up her knitting, as she started her bedside vigil.
; “Thank you,” Margaret said. “Do not exhaust yourself, Archie. We do not need you falling ill as well.” With those parting words, his mother left with Louis-Daniel, and Archie fixed his gaze on Gemma’s pale face, and willed her to live.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Mallory?” Elizabeth asked softly.
“I’m setting off for France in the morning now that Susan is on the mend.”
“I think you should stay here with us, my love,” Elizabeth said softly.
“I cannot. I must find Gemma.”
“Mallory, she is with her husband. You can’t consider what Archie did as stealing Gemma away. You stole me away, and look where that got us.”
“Archie Campbell isn’t me.” He started pacing back and forth with his arms crossed behind him.
“I know that, dearest. But, he seems like a perfectly nice man, and he wasn’t the one that hurt any of us.”
“His men shot Ainsworth, and one of the blackguards stabbed me. Lord Northam is not an innocent party in this debacle!”
“Ainsworth is alive and well on the mend. You must let her find her own way, Mallory.”
“Gemma is having her own adventure. Let her have it. You have had many adventures, and your sisters, well, they’ve been cloistered away. Gemma deserves to have a bit of fun.”
“Bit of fun? You think being married to Archie is that diverting?”
“He’s a handsome lord with heavy coffers, and he adores Gemma. I do not think she is in any peril. Pray, let her be.”
“And you forgive him for printing those stories about how I am Captain Rafe Morgan in the papers?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “It made for some pretty salacious gossip but nothing else will come from it. Gemma went with him willingly.”
“She went with him to save you and our daughter.”
“We would have found a way. She could have stayed and fought, she didn’t. She wanted to embark on an adventure with her husband, and I shall not have you ruin it all for her.”
“You have gone mad, my sweet demented darling,” he said.
She laughed. “As long as you still love me, that’s all that matters.”
His mother walked into the morning room. Sighing, she sat down and poured herself some tea. “I have had time to think about what is to be done concerning Gemma. We know who they are, she married into the Campbell family, and though I know they are vast in number, I think I know which branch she married into, and I should like to open communications with them. For that reason, I will be sending Lord Northam’s mother a missive later on today, and hopefully, wherever they are, in England, Scotland or on that isle they escape to, the mail shall find them.”
“They have an island?” Mallory sat up straighter.
“Yes, I thought you knew. Their family is quite well known throughout the ton, Mallory. We are the ones that have shied away from social events in the last decade. They have done no such thing. The Duchess helped to marry off two of her nieces, and she presented them at Court. She also has two daughters that will make their Come Out soon. I hear they are quite shy, but they shall have to gather their nerve to navigate the world of the marriage mart. They also say that her two daughters shall be lovely little debutantes, as they share her beauty.”
“You know that much about them?” Mallory asked, aghast.
“Oh, yes, indeed.”
“And…you never thought to impart that information to me?”
“You never asked, Son. Besides, you had your heart set on revenge, and it clouded your mind. Gemma is now a married woman, and she has married into a family that shall be quite the asset to us. I didn’t want you to bungle things up.”
“There you, see?” Elizabeth said, smiling widely. “Your own mother views the match favorably. You will not go off and try to make Gemma a widow.”
“Indeed, you shall not. Ainsworth has been well compensated for his injury, and he well on the mend. You must set aside your anger, Mallory, dear, and embrace the fact that we are now one big happy family.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call us happy,” Mallory grumbled. He still wanted to break Archie’s nose, and if he couldn’t settle for breaking Archie’s nose, he’d bludgeon that bloody Frog instead.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gemma woke with a scream.
Bathed in sweat, she looked wildly about her.
“What…what’s going on?” Archie asked sleepily, sitting up in bed next to her.
She leveled her gaze on him.
“What are you doing in my bed?” she asked angrily.
“I’m not in your bed…I’m in our bed,” he said.
She didn’t feel like arguing with him. “What…what happened to me?”
His eyes feasted on her, and she felt a bit embarrassed. “You fell ill with a fever and I thought I feared that I would lose you.” His voice filled with emotion, and the sound of it made her toes curl.
“I’m hungry,” she said slowly. “I think, I think I would like some tea, and some toast and some plumb cake, and some hot rolls, and pound cake and maybe some bacon and an egg or two…”
“Why don’t I just have Cook load a tray with some food?” he asked, laughing.
“That sounds heavenly, oh, maybe I want some hot chocolate instead of tea. I am so conflicted.”
“I’ll have her prepare both,” he said softly. “I might see if she has made any kedgeree. I could do with some of that.”
“You can keep it,” she said tartly, making him laugh again.
Reaching for his dressing gown, he gave her a smile that warmed her body, and then, he left the room. Sighing, she looked around her. The room was ornately decorated in soothing shade of blue. Yawning, she laid back down to wait for him to return and before she knew it, she had nodded off again.
*****
Archie walked carefully into the bedchamber carrying the tray heaped with food. He stopped short, and took a moment to admire Gemma. She was such a beauty. He placed the tray down on a nearby table, and crept toward the bed, hoping he wouldn’t make any noise to disturb her. When the floor creaked, he winced. Her eyes snapped open. “Oh, it’s only you,” she muttered. Her eyes were a bit listless, and then, as if she had remembered that he was bringing food, she sat up in bed and looked wildly about. “Where is the food?”
Yes. That was the woman he loved, the woman who ate like a pig, but never seemed to look like one. He wondered what his two sisters would think of her, seeing as they both ate like birds to maintain their figures. If they weren’t both in London right now with their cousins, he would be able to ask them.
“Were you…were you by my side the whole time?” she asked softly as he brought the tray over to the bed.
“Aye,” he said, suddenly feeling shy about the whole thing.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “I…I felt as if I wasn’t alone, I felt as if someone was keeping me tied to this world.”
He smiled, at her, earning a smile in return. “Why don’t we tuck into this food, and if you feel like it later I can show you around the castle? Charles has also wanted to see you. My father has been spending a lot of time with him. Charles has bewitched him.”
“Charles is an imp, and he’s such a sweet little character and that endears him to so many people. I…I would like exploring the castle with you. It sounds like a day filled with fun.”
He grinned back at her. There life was almost perfect. If only St. Martin would disappear from their lives.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gemma and Archie were walking through the house, making their way to the main stairwell.
They’d stayed far too long in the Library, talking and well, flirting was the only word she could give it. She wanted him to kiss her, she’d kept praying for it, but he had remained aloof, even though his eyes told her that he wanted her—desperately. The sound of something shattering in the Entrance Hall caught both of their attention.
“Stay here,” Archie instructed.
Leaving her side, s
he heard him dashing through the house.
Fear coiled around her heart, when she only heard silence.
“Deuce it all. No one is going to leave me behind.” She moved forward, tracking Archie’s path.
Urgent whispers met her ears.
“I have to have some more money, Archie. That twenty thousand pounds you promised me is a pittance compared to what I need. Come on. You know that compared to you, I’m a pauper. I might inherit my own grand English estate someday, but until that old uncle of my natural mother’s passes away, I have no money to speak of, and Papa has cut off my allowance. Have a heart, mate.” Laughter erupted from the man talking. The voice sounded suspiciously like Louis-Daniel, and yet the man speaking, he sounded British!
It…was most disconcerting to hear, and yet it intrigued her enough to keep her walking toward the men instead of running away from them as she probably should.
“You should have thought about that before you started rutting that whore again! God damn it, Louis-Daniel, you really need to learn to keep that prick of yours buttoned up!”
She heard Louis-Daniel let out a large grunt. “Well, at least I have a little strumpet warming my bed. I can safely boast that I am a beard splitter. You aren’t even getting close to bedding your wife. She’s frigid to the core, isn’t she?”
“Shut your bloody bone box, Louis-Daniel. She’s just had a fever. She’s still recuperating. So, just keep those loose lips of yours shut.” Archie growled.
“Can’t, I’m foxed. I feel as if I’m flying in the wind much like a kite, so…will you give me some money, or not?”
“You were given a bloody peerage, shame it didn’t come with any land so you could make a bit of blunt off it.”
“Aye,” Louis-Daniel said. “Given a peerage by the Crown, I’m a proper English lord, and yet everyone still calls me monsieur or that bloody marquis. I want to forget the fact that I’m French. It’s brought me too much heartache.”
His to Keep (Regency Scoundrels Book 2) Page 20
