To Tame a Savage Heart

by Emma V. Leech

  She slipped her hand under her pillow and took out the charms she’d found in the pudding herself. A shoe for travel, and a thimble - another year single. She swallowed, knowing what it was telling her, yet torn between desperate excitement and abject terror. Could she really do it? Could she run away with him, forever cut herself off from polite society … bring shame upon her sister?

  Yes.

  Yes.

  The answer was dreadful and shocking and so inevitable that she didn’t bother considering any other option. She had always known this was how it would go, after all. Gabriel had warned her often enough, as if she hadn’t figured it out for herself a very long time ago. If she wanted him, she would have to prove that she was prepared to give everything up, that he was worth more to her than her reputation, than a world where people wouldn’t gossip about her, than her own flesh and blood. But it was the only way he would ever accept that he was worth anything at all, let alone being loved. She would have to trust in him and risk everything, or she’d lose any chance she’d ever had.

  The idea that there was a lie that sat between them even now, threatening everything she had dreamed of, made a knot tighten in her belly, though, and a rolling shiver of cold washed over her. She felt hot and cold and clammy all at once, for she had still not admitted to him that her sister had married his cousin, that she was now a member of the Winterbourne family. She was too afraid. Everything between them was too new and fresh and fragile, and she didn’t dare risk the anger that she felt would arise when he discovered it. But he would, sooner or later, he would, and if she didn’t tell him herself, he would think the worse of her. She must tell him, before anyone else did.

  ***

  The next morning, Crecy got away early as she’d promised. Gabriel was waiting for her, Typhon thundering beside her as they raced back to Damerel. Crecy whooped from the sheer joy of being alive, of riding hard and fast with the man she loved at her side, him casting her looks that made her skin heat as they rode neck and neck together.

  He was laughing as he pulled her down from her horse, the sound of it so extraordinary that Crecy felt her eyes fill with tears as she tumbled into his arms.

  “And what have you come to steal today, little thief?” he demanded, the words hard and harsh, though there was warmth and a glittering amusement in his eyes.

  “Nothing less than your heart, my lord,” she said, the words whispered back to him. He stilled, and she felt the tension singing through his body and wondered if she’d said too much. He leaned down, giving her a brief kiss, but his expression was grave now.

  “You can’t steal what has never existed,” he said, taking her hand and leading her indoors.

  Crecy smiled despite the sadness she felt at his words. The idea that he had no heart was so ridiculous to her that she wanted to rage against it, to shout at him for even thinking it. But she said nothing, not yet. She would prove it to him, sooner or later.

  Piper greeted them, and Crecy saw warmth in the old man’s eyes as he took her coat, but there was something else, too, worry - worry for her. He knew the risks that she was taking, just as she did. She returned a smile, wondering if he could tell what she tried to convey with her expression. Perhaps he knew what she was doing and understood her desire to save Gabriel, to love him, or at least realised that she took these risks with her eyes wide open.

  Gabriel led her to the parlour and she laughed, delighted as she saw the Game of the Goose had been set up ready to play.

  “Ha! I knew you enjoyed it,” she taunted, clapping her hands and bouncing on her toes.

  Gabriel snorted, shaking his head. “No such thing,” he said, denying the obvious with a cool tone. “I’m merely indulging your foolish notions of entertainment and giving you the chance to try and beat me again.”

  Crecy stuck her tongue out at him, more pleased by his attempt to make her happy than she dared express. She wanted to tell him she loved him, loved him with all her heart, that she would do anything he wanted if he would only keep her near to him. She knew better than to say the words, though.

  He watched her as she sat on the floor beside the board, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and still looking a little awkward, despite the fact that it had been his idea. Crecy smiled and reached out her hand to him. After a moment’s hesitation, he moved forward and took it, and she gave his arm a little tug. With a sigh, he sat on the floor beside her and Crecy thought her heart might actually melt at seeing him do so, simply to please her.

  They played twice, Crecy winning the first round and Gabriel the second. There was tension between them, though, and Crecy could feel it grow as each game progressed. They both knew this was merely an interlude and that what came next would change everything. Anticipation and fear mingled in her blood, making her blush easily and stammer some of her words as her nerves leapt beneath her skin. Every time his hand brushed hers or he cast her a look from those dark blue eyes, a shiver ran over her and it was all she could do to concentrate on the game at all.

  They both looked up as there was a knock at the parlour door, and Piper informed them that lunch was ready.

  Gabriel nodded and began to pack the game away as Crecy watched him. Each piece was put carefully in place and checked several times over.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, curious as to how this compulsion to check and recheck affected him.

  “No.” The word was hard and a little sharp, and he paused with his hand over the box. He glanced up at Crecy and then back to the game, putting the counter in place. “No, thank you,” he amended, and Crecy’s heart squeezed in her chest.

  Gabriel put the box away and then sat down as Crecy stood, getting out his watch. Crecy looked at him in surprise, expecting them to go into lunch now. He cast her an uncomfortable look, frowning a little. “It isn’t one o’clock yet,” he said, showing her his watch, which read three minutes to the hour. She thought he looked faintly embarrassed despite the scowl, which she suspected served to cover up his discomfort.

  Crecy put out her hand and he looked at her with suspicion before he took it. She tugged a little and Gabriel got to his feet, looking reluctant.

  “Come along,” she said, her voice soft but firm as she led him from the room. Crecy could feel his unwillingness to follow her; the tension practically vibrated down his arm, and she saw the anxious looks he cast the grandfather clock as he crossed the entrance hall to the dining room. By the time they stood on the threshold to the dining room, he looked like he wanted to be sick. Crecy stepped into the dining room, watching the desperation to yank her from the room flicker in his eyes. She held out both hands to him. “Nothing bad will happen, Gabriel, I promise.”

  He looked down at her hands but didn’t move, so she reached out and took his, pulling a little, though he didn’t budge.

  “Please,” she said, staring into his eyes and willing him to trust her. “For me.”

  With obvious resistance, and looking like he was going to be seriously unwell at any moment, Gabriel stepped into the room. Crecy beamed at him, throwing her hands around his neck and kissing him hard.

  “See, nothing bad,” she whispered. The clock chimed a moment later and Gabriel exhaled.

  Once he had arranged the table, Gabriel seemed to relax a little. Crecy had not pushed him to stop, or to leave things as they were. She sensed that he had already made a big effort in his attempts to please her today, and she did not take that lightly. If she wanted him, wanted to understand and help him, she would need to be patient. So she smiled as he poured her wine, and they began their meal.

  After the cold meat had gone, Gabriel cut her three pieces of cheese before putting three identical pieces on his own plate. They had eaten in silence so far, which Crecy hadn’t minded in the least. She was often silent herself, lost in her own thoughts, so she never begrudged it in anyone else. Now, however, she looked up as Gabriel cleared his throat.

  “Did … did you have a nice Christmas?” he asked, looking fai
ntly nauseated. Crecy bit back a smile with difficulty and reached out, covering his hand.

  “You don’t need to do that,” she said, curling her fingers around his. “I know you don’t like small talk, and I have no need of it.” She smiled at him, then, squeezing his hand a little. “You can tell me anything, Gabriel, speak about anything you wish to, whenever you want to. But you do not need to speak if you don’t want to. I am happier to be silent with you than to be sat talking about anything to anyone else.”

  He let out a breath, frowning at his plate. “I don’t understand you,” he said, his gravelly tone sounding so utterly perplexed that she couldn’t help but laugh a little.

  “I know,” she said as he looked up at her. “We shall just have to do our best to understand each other, to learn how to make each other happy.”

  He snorted, sounding revolted by the idea but there was curiosity in his eyes all the same.

  “You’ve done a wonderful job so far,” she added, watching that curiosity morph into something that might have been pleasure, but he looked away too quickly to be sure. Gabriel withdrew his hand and they finished their meal in silence.

  ***

  A letter arrived for Gabriel after lunch, and Crecy followed him into his study, looking around the room as he wrote a reply. She could hear the scratch of his quill as he wrote, but felt his eyes on her all the same. There were many artworks in the room, mostly small pieces, but of exquisite quality. This room seemed the only one in the house which truly belonged to him, though she hadn’t seen his bedroom yet, of course. The thought sent a jolt rushing through her and a blush to her cheeks, and she turned away from him to study the bookshelves so that he couldn’t see it.

  “No de Sade,” he said, sounding amused. She turned back, but he was looking down, sealing the wax on the letter with his ring.

  “Not on display, at any rate,” she retorted, earning herself a low chuckle that did something strange to her insides.

  “True enough,” he said, leaving the letter in the exact centre of his desk before getting up. “Would you like me to show you where they are?”

  He moved towards her, an intensity in his eyes that made her heart feel as though it was skipping in her chest. Crecy swallowed and reminded herself that she had made her choice long ago; there was nothing more to consider.

  “Yes, please,” she replied, holding his gaze. He paused in front of her, staring at her as though weighing her determination, waiting for the moment she ran from him. I’m not going anywhere, Gabriel. She wondered if he could see her answer reflected in her eyes, but, just in case, she took his hand and raised it to her lips.

  Gabriel cupped her face, his expression troubled.

  “You should run from me.” There was no inflection to his voice, no force or anger or judgement, just a flat statement of the facts.

  “I can’t,” she said, turning her face into his hand and kissing his palm again as she held his gaze. “I won’t.” She moved forward until their bodies touched. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

  He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against her mouth, so sweet and tender that she could only smile as he moved away, looking a little anxious.

  “Show me these scandalous books,” she urged, feeling like she’d won a huge victory as a smile tugged up one corner of his mouth.

  “You have a one-track mind, you dreadful creature.”

  Crecy nodded, her expression solemn. “I know,” she said, following that with a dramatic sigh as he led her from the room.

  Despite knowing that this was what she wanted, what she dreamed of and longed for, despite knowing that there was no other way … Crecy was still sick with nerves as she climbed the stairs in Gabriel’s wake. But soon enough, they were stood before a bedroom door, one she had not seen behind before.

  “Is this your room, Gabriel?” she asked, hearing the breathless quality of her own voice.

  “It is.”

  Crecy swallowed, staring at the door for a moment and knowing that she was about to leave behind any possibility of the kind of life her sister had dreamed of for her. She looked up at Gabriel, finding him staring at her in turn, his gaze cautious, watchful.

  “Well, are you going to let me in, then?” she asked, hoping she sounded as confident and determined as she’d hoped, and not like she was trembling, which was much closer to the truth.

  He regarded her for a moment longer before reaching forward and allowing the door to swing open. He waited, then, and she knew that stepping inside was going to be entirely her decision, he would not encourage her.

  So Crecy took a breath and stepped into the room.

  Chapter 17

  “Wherein love is mentioned.”

  Gabriel watched as Crecy walked into his room, and tried to tamp down on the unruly emotions surging through him. At every moment since she had arrived, he had waited for her to change her mind, to tell him that if he wanted her they must be married or that he must give her whatever financial amount she had decided she was worth for a carte blanche.

  Loathing hit him like a wave as she stepped into the room, putting herself totally into his care. How could he have believed it of her? Yet it was too extraordinary. What in the name of God did she see in him? Why was she here? As if she’d heard the thoughts in his head, she glanced around, then, the look in her eyes so loving and full of trust that his breath caught. It was impossible. Ridiculous and impossible. Yet the spark of hope that she had lit within him flamed, a rush of warmth beneath his skin, the like of which he had never before known.

  She moved towards the bed, one hand trailing around the heavily carved wood of one of the four posts.

  “I don’t see any books?” she said, a teasing tone to her voice that made him want to give in to a smile.

  He looked away, for some reason unwilling to let her know that she made him want to smile. For if she knew that, she might realise how tightly he was caught up in the spell she had cast over him. She might know that losing her had become something he feared more than any other sensation of dread that he had ever known, even as its inevitability loomed over him, stealing his breath.

  He moved to a large glass-fronted cabinet, which was lined with red silk to protect the books inside from the daylight. Gabriel unlocked it and opened the doors, which swung back to show some of his collection. In fact, there were many more, but his favourites resided here, along with those that were shocking enough that he preferred the staff didn’t stumble across them by accident.

  He didn’t turn, but knew that Crecy had come to stand beside him.

  “Did you think I’d lied to get you up here?” he asked, immediately regretting the accusation behind the words. He hadn’t meant to sound so aggressive; it was simply a hard habit to break.

  “Of course not.” Her voice was soothing, smoothing down any anxieties as she laid her hand on his arm. “I don’t really want to see the books, anyway, Gabriel.” Her admission was quiet, her voice trembling a little, and any suspicions or cynicism that remained melted away as he realised that she was dreadfully nervous.

  He frowned, turning a little to look down at her, but finding he could not meet her eyes. “Are you afraid of me?” he asked, hardly daring to hear the answer, but holding himself very still. He forced himself to look her in the eyes, and the smile that dawned over her face made his breath catch.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said, and once again the realisation that she trusted him hit him hard and fast. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she was a bloody fool, that it wasn’t worth it, he wasn’t worth it. But he was a miserable, selfish bastard, and he wanted her so badly that he wasn’t altogether sure he wasn’t trembling with nerves, too.

  He reached out a hand, touching her cheek.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said, cursing himself as the words sounded harsh and impatient rather than reassuring. But nonetheless, she stepped closer to him.

  “I know that.”

  Gabriel swallowed, panic sliding over
him as he realised he didn’t know what the hell to do now. His body was well aware what came next and was clamouring that he bloody well get on with it, but this was different. For starters, he’d never been with an innocent before. The women he favoured knew well what they were about and what they’d get if they dallied with him. He was neither tender nor kind. Exchanges were harsh and crude, as fast as he could manage, and totally impersonal. He didn’t want names, didn’t want to know anything about them, and he certainly didn’t hang around after the act itself was done. The idea of cuddling some woman after sex had always appalled him. He’d never cuddled anyone in his life, for the love of God. He was simply not the kind of man young women fell in love with, dammit.

  But this was Crecy, and she trusted him.

  Before he could give himself a stern talking-to and demand he get a grip, you damn fool, Crecy had taken his hand and was leading him to the bed.

  Gabriel dug his heels in. This was the outside of enough. He was not going to be seduced by a virgin. His ego was fragile enough without adding that to his list of failures. He could hear his father’s mocking laughter and forced it away with an effort. No. Not here. This is mine.

  “Gabriel?” Crecy’s voice was quiet and unsure of itself, and he hated to hear it so. Crecy was nothing but vibrancy and determination and everything good in life.

  “Sorry,” he said, the word sounding awkward and rusty on his lips. “I …” He let out a breath with the slightest huff of laughter. “This is …”

  “You don’t normally bed virgins,” she said, cutting to the heart of thing as she so often did.