“Very well,” she said, smiling at the very rare use of an endearment for her, despite the sense of unease that wouldn’t leave. She walked to the door and then hesitated, turning back to him. “You’re really not hiding anything from me?”
“Of course not,” he said, though he didn’t meet her eyes, and she knew he was lying. “Now run along and get dressed. You know how cross I get when people don’t follow the plan.”
She smiled, aware that he was making a joke at his own expense, but quite unable to shake the feeling that she was missing something.
Chapter 30
“Wherein a homecoming and a wedding.”
The journey back was, at least far better than the one coming had been. Gabriel was a good as his word, and despite his distaste for public inns unless strictly necessary, they took their time, breaking the journey often so that Crecy was only in the carriage for short periods. This inevitably made Gabriel tense, however, and there was nearly a very ugly scene when the proprietor of the place they stopped to eat in realised that they had quality dining with them. He proceeded to sweep away the wine and the glasses with shouts for the staff to bring the best stuff. As Gabriel had spent longer than Crecy cared to remember getting it all to his satisfaction, his display of fury had been inevitable. It had taken all of Crecy’s persuasive skills to make him see that the man had been acting kindly and not with the sole intent of driving Gabriel to distraction.
The seas were calm and their crossing uneventful, as they were followed by blue skies and a lovely breeze which took the heat from the sun. Try as she might, however, Crecy could not help but feel it was the calm before the storm. Gabriel seemed at times calmer than usual, as though he’d made peace with himself, and at others more uptight and anxious … and sadder than she had ever seen him.
She could only hope that it was simply his worries over getting married and the coming child that were playing on his mind. Crecy knew well enough that the baby terrified him. He’d said little about it, but the few remarks that he had let slip led her to believe that he was frightened out of his mind. She could guess why. It was difficult to raise the issue with him, but she had tried to reassure him that there was no reason the child should be plagued with the same problems as he was. It would not be the least bit out of the ordinary in that regard. Unless the poor thing took after her, she’d added, trying to lighten the mood. The look that had crossed his face, however, told her that she had struck a nerve. His self-esteem was so low that she didn’t doubt for a moment that he thought he would make a poor father, and she knew that she must do everything in her power to reassure him.
As the carriage began to roll over familiar territory, drawing them closer to Longwold and Damerel, Crecy began to feel nervous. How would Belle and Edward receive them? She must endeavour to see them alone before they met Gabriel, for she could only imagine the horrific scene that would ensue. With Gabriel in such a fragile state of mind, that was the last thing he needed. So she would try and be brave and face them alone, and then try to explain. The idea was not a happy one, despite her longing to see Belle. She wondered if she had a niece or nephew yet, and hoped she did. Then Belle might be able to advise her about the coming birth, as she’d not understood a word the French doctor had said. A very uncomfortable Gabriel had translated for her, but she’d still rather hear it from her sister.
If Belle would even see her.
She would, of course she would, she scolded herself. But although Crecy had written regularly to Belle, at first simply to explain a little and to confess about the child, and then to try and assure her of her happiness, she had no idea of her sister’s feelings. Because no one knew where they were and Crecy never gave them the address, aware that Edward would be dispatched the moment their whereabouts had been revealed to fetch her home.
The closer to home they got, the darker the mood Gabriel sank into. He’d barely spoken a word since breakfast. Crecy turned to him, trying to keep her worry from showing. “Are you so dreadfully unhappy at the prospect of marrying me?” she said, keeping her voice light and teasing as she smiled at him. But Gabriel didn’t smile back.
His expression was intense as he looked at her, his eyes serious and melancholy.
“Never think that. I’ve never wanted anything more, I promise you.” He reached out and touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. He paused for a moment and she waited, sensing he was struggling to say something. “I love you.”
Crecy felt her breath catch. Gabriel rarely said anything of a romantic nature, but even when he did, he’d never yet managed to say the words … not out loud. She gave a little laugh, but her throat was tight with emotion. “I know that, Gabriel,” she said, praying that Belle and Edward would try and see the wonderful man he was and forget everything that had come before. “But thank you so much for saying it. It … it has made me very happy.”
He opened his arms to her and she moved into the space without hesitation.
“That’s good,” he said, his voice low. “I want you to be happy, Crecy, so much. More than anything. You and the child.”
Crecy took his hand and kissed it, looking up and seeing his face become blurry as she blinked hard. “You make me happy, Gabriel, and you will our child, too. You’ll see.”
He fell quiet, then, and she could only hope that he would heed her words.
***
It was hard to approach the private chapel at Damerel. Gabriel took a breath and walked up and down again, feeling like a fool. Crecy was waiting for him as patiently as ever. For God’s sake, man, just move your feet and walk to the bloody chapel.
But his parents were buried down there. Not within the grounds, since as suicides, they had been denied that right, but close enough that you could see the graves. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. He swallowed, bile rising in his throat at the idea of seeing the graves. Though he paid to have the chapel and the graves tended, he hadn’t been there himself before. Not since the funeral all those years ago.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it.
Gabriel glanced over at Crecy, seeing the concern in her eyes and feeling a jolt of sorrow. Yes, you damn well can. You do it for her. God knows you’ve given her little enough. Every head of the DeMorte line had been married here for centuries. He was damned if Crecy would be any different. She would be Lady DeMorte, and once the gossip had died down, she’d be able to hold her head up. There would be no question of illegitimacy for the child, either. He hauled in a deep breath and began to walk down the path. There was a dreadful, harsh prickling feeling up and down his spine as though he was being prodded over and over with a sharp stick, and he was sweating, too. Fine husband material, you are, he muttered inwardly before pushing the idea away. He’d not think on that. It was irrelevant.
Crecy smiled as he finally managed to put his foot on the path that led to the chapel, beaming at him and taking his hand. God, it took so little to make her happy, he thought in despair. She deserved so much more. He took another breath, feeling nausea roil in his stomach as the chapel came into sight. Crecy’s hand in his was firm, sure, and he knew she was willing him on. Gabriel glanced down at her to reassure himself as they approached the chapel doors. His heart expanded in his chest, filling him up and making him desperate to be worthy of her, even if only a little bit. Every instinct was screaming at him to turn and bolt, but he had to do this. He would do this, for her.
He paused on the threshold, wondering with a wry smile if he’d be struck by lightning the moment he set foot inside. He wouldn’t be entirely surprised. Refusing to think about it a moment longer, he stepped inside before he lost the nerve, and all at once they were there. The reverend who served the DeMorte family and had never actually seen Gabriel face to face, despite the poor man’s best efforts, looked just as anxious as Gabriel. White-faced and sweating, Gabriel was certain that the fellow believed himself in the presence of evil. It had taken a deal of money, a fair amount of persuasion, and finally a touch of blackmail to g
et his own way.
Piper, may the Lord bless him, had informed him that it was rumoured the fellow had been rather indiscreet with a young lady from a local pub, The Lamb. After a bit of digging, Piper had returned the information that the young lady had a small boy, the spitting image of the reverend. So in return for Gabriel not informing his superiors of this dreadful behaviour, the Reverend Haley would marry him to Crecy, put a false date in the register, and swear to anyone who asked that the ceremony had taken place in January. He would also give a generous monthly allowance to the poor woman whom he’d left to fend for herself and her son without so much as a farthing from him. All in all, Gabriel was rather pleased with the arrangement.
Piper and his valet, John, were witnesses, both of whom could be relied on to confirm the couple had been married months ago. And then, all at once, the ceremony had begun, binding him to the woman at his side.
If the reverend’s voice trembled a little and he found it hard to look the extremely blushing bride in the eye, Gabriel neither cared nor noticed. The words were all he focused on, making promises before God that he knew he could never keep. But if there was such a thing as a god, he must know that Gabriel was a liar, so there would be no surprises.
Piper, who was giving the bride away and looking vastly proud of it, said his piece, and then the reverend turned to Gabriel, who repeated the words, feeling his throat grow inexplicably tight as he spoke.
“I, Gabriel Rochester Francis Greyston, take thee, Lucretia Jane Holbrook, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish.”
Gabriel paused, holding onto Crecy’s hand too tightly.
“Till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto, I plight thee, my troth.”
***
There had been a small wedding breakfast prepared for them, though it closely resembled Gabriel’s usual fare on his part. Gabriel did his best to say the right things, to smile more than he had done in his lifetime before, and then to give all of the staff the rest of the day off. Once they had endured the interminable, if well-meant, congratulations, they were finally alone.
Crecy sighed and sat herself down beside the tea tray Piper had insisted on bringing before he left for the day.
“Did you see Piper during the ceremony, Gabriel? I think he was actually weeping.”
Gabriel snorted, shaking his head. “The tears were for you, I assure you. The fellow wanted my head on a pike after …” He trailed off, not quite certain how to put it into words without being crude, and so gestured at Crecy’s stomach.
Crecy laughed at him as she always did when he failed to be as blunt as she so often was. He could only ever manage it when he was angry, and he was far from that. Gabriel turned to look out of the window. He wanted this. He wanted Crecy and his child, despite the fact would be a horrible father. God help the child, it would likely be as mad as he was, and then what? Crecy would hate him for it. What if there were more of them, all of them as strange and black-hearted as him?
He shivered at the thought, fear prickling over him.
You know what to do.
This time, it was not his father that spoke to him. Gabriel had made his decision. He would no longer do the man’s bidding. Edward could live his life in peace, Gabriel no longer cared. He could hear this father’s rage, condemning him as a coward, a failure, a madman, a pathetic worm, but it was nothing he hadn’t heard before, nothing he didn’t already know. Crecy was all that mattered to him now, though, she and the child. There was nothing more than this, no other thought in his head. They must be safe. They must be happy. Two things that he could not give them.
But security, a certain future, a name - albeit a tarnished one - that he could give.
“Let’s go to bed,” Crecy said, grinning up at him in a way that made his heart feel like it was caught in a trap, the spikes digging in, tearing through the tender flesh.
“It’s the middle of the day,” he said, filled with longing to forget his plans, to do what she said. Perhaps he could try? He could try, couldn’t he? Just for a little while.
“So?” she retorted, sounding indignant and making him smile though he wanted to weep, wanted her to hold him and tell him nothing bad would ever happen. It would all be all right.
“I thought perhaps you’d want to see Belle,” he said, knowing that, in truth, she wanted to see her sister more than anything.
Crecy’s face fell and she looked up at him. “I do, very much. I … I’m just nervous, I suppose.” She huffed and shook her head. “Though I don’t know why, as Belle is the most loving, forgiving person in the world, and once she sees how happy I am … I know she’ll love you, too, Gabriel.”
Gabriel refrained from comment. Well, there was another reason. Crecy would forever be torn between him and her sister. Belle would never forgive him, that much was certain. He would hardly expect it of her, either, after everything he’d done. Edward would likely call him out. Ironic, really, after trying to provoke the man into it for so many years, he might actually get his wish.
“If you’re going to see her, you should go now,” Gabriel said, hearing the words stick in his throat. “You should stay the night there, too, I think.”
“What?” Crecy looked up in outrage. “Gabriel, it’s our wedding night!”
Gabriel steadied himself against the flood of emotion that overcame him, swelling in his chest and squeezing his lungs so tight it was painful to draw a breath. He turned his back until he had gained control again, smiling at her as best he could, one eyebrow raised. “I rather think that ship has sailed.”
Crecy pouted at him, looking so adorably sulky that he had to go and sit beside her, to kiss her and hold her to him. He placed his hand on her stomach, still finding it hard to believe that he had a child, despite the overwhelming evidence. He gasped, astonished as the child moved, pressing against his palm.
“She knows her daddy,” Crecy said, her voice quiet, staring at him with such love that he didn’t know how he could bear it. He pulled her to him, feeling overwhelmed with love, with the need to do the right thing, and such desperate sorrow.
“I love you,” he said, hearing his voice quaver with emotion, but quite unable to stop it. “You won’t ever forget that, will you? I love you both, so much.” He blinked hard, knowing he had to hold on a little longer, relishing the feel of his wife in his arms, wishing so very much that it was forever.
“Of course I won’t forget,” Crecy said, resting her head on his shoulder. “We shall be together every day, and I will nag you to tell me every morning and every night, so I couldn’t possibly forget.”
“I don’t think it would require much nagging,” he said, his voice quiet now as he was keeping hold of his emotions by a thread. “Come along, you’ve had a long day. If you’re going to see your sister, you should go now.”
Crecy sighed, but showed no signs of moving. “Won’t you come with me, Gabriel?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
“No,” she admitted. “I don’t suppose it is. But when I’ve explained …” She looked up, then, her lovely eyes shining with such hope that he thought the pain of it would kill him there and then. “You’ll come, then, and they’ll see, Gabriel, they’ll understand. Not right away, perhaps, but they will, you’ll see.”
He forced a smile to his lips, smoothing a curl from her beautiful face. “You are a hopeless and foolish optimist, wife.”
She grinned at him, a sly look in her eyes. “Well, of course I am. Otherwise, I might have given up on you.”
“But you never did,” he whispered, wondering why this woman had loved him so hard, had been so determined to save him. God knew he didn’t deserve it.
“I never will,” she amended.
Gabriel choked, covering the sound by pretending to laugh. “I have something for you,” he said, trying to divert her attention as she w
as looking at him a little strangely. “John was turning out some old clothes and he found this in one of the pockets.” He lifted out the Jay feather, still as dazzling blue and black as it had been the day she’d given it to him.
“Oh, my goodness,” she cried, delighted. “How funny, I wondered where it was when you’d kept everything else so carefully.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow and she blushed. “Oh. Well, after you left here, Piper let me into your study to write you a letter. I … I may have been a little nosy.”
Gabriel smiled and leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “No, you weren’t. It’s all yours now, so you can be as nosy as you desire.”
She returned his smile, and then her face fell. “Can I look in that little book you’ve been writing in, then?”
His blood ran cold and he shook his head. “No.” Realising he’d unsettled her, he let out a breath, forcing himself to relax. “At least, yes, you can, but not yet.”
“Tomorrow? When I come home?”
Gabriel swallowed, his throat too tight to speak, but he nodded. Crecy relaxed, looking relieved. “Very well, then,” she said, her tone that of a long-suffering spouse. “If you’re so eager to get rid of your wife, I suppose I must go.”
Gabriel helped her into her pelisse, doing up the buttons for her and smiling at how even this latest one strained over her stomach. “You’re getting fat, wife.”
Crecy snorted. “And whose fault is that?” she demanded, her voice tart as he tied the ribbon under her chin and bent down to kiss her.
“Mine,” he whispered. “All mine.”
She sighed, a wistful look in her eyes. “I shall miss you dreadfully, you know, are you sure you won’t come?”
Gabriel shook his head. “I must go to Bath tonight on business. Bainbridge has some documents that I must sign without delay.”
To Tame a Savage Heart Page 26
