Mary Blayney
Page 26
“Oh, Gabriel. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His heart skittered with pleasure. He had finally found something that would make her world a better place.
“You are exactly right, De Humani Corporis Fabrica is something both of us treasure, for entirely different reasons.”
“I all but begged Schotzko to hire me to advise you. He thought my credentials adequate but said that it was your decision. I knew what that answer would be.” Gabriel went over and pulled the last of the paper and string from under the volume and left the book in the middle of her desk.
“I saw him the day after he first called here. He told me that he could not, in good conscience, leave his volume here. He is a bit of an old maid, is he not? His wife must be very patient. I offered to allow you the use of my copy.”
She nodded and touched the leather binding, ran her fingers along the gilt edges of the closed book.
“He did warn me that you have cats as pets and they were nothing but trouble.”
She was not looking at him, but staring at the book. Gabriel wandered around the space, trying to make sense of it. He decided she might know where each little item was, but she was most likely the only one who did.
A cat was sunning itself on the window seat and Gabriel walked to it. The window faced east, overlooking the side yard and stable. He stood at the window, wondering if this room was not both prison and sanctuary.
He saw Claire chasing her kitten, Marie, across the yard and waited, expecting to see the young maid who cared for the girls close behind. When she did not appear, he decided he should go after the little girl himself and tell her to be careful.
“Thank you, Gabriel. It is the perfect gift. I shall treasure it, and return it when the work is done.”
She was standing close to him, and when he turned around, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek He left the studio to find Claire, more encouraged than he had been in days.
That was as close as he was to come to Lynette for the rest of the week. Hopeful or not, his time was running out. The new butler would be with them in two days.
Robert had gone to Derbyshire at Meryon’s invitation and had insisted that Gabriel was welcome at his home until he returned, or for as long as he wished.
It was tempting, but Gabriel would give Lynette what she wanted. He would leave.
32
THOUGH HE WAS LEAVING, Gabriel had an ally in Esther Gilray and knew he could keep track of Lynette through her. As painful as it was, it did not appear that the end of the war and the birth of a child would have the same softening effect on Lynette as it had had on the captain.
Gabriel was walking back after making a call on the baby and her mother. A noisy spring storm had delayed his return and he was hurrying when he saw Lynette and her mama in the front garden. Lynette was holding her mother’s hands. It was clear that Esther was upset and Lynette was trying to understand the problem. He reached them in time to hear the pertinent details.
“She is not in the nursery and two of the kittens are gone. You know how upset she was about not being able to keep them all. I think she has run away with them.”
“Nonsense, Mama.” Lynette started as Gabriel came up to them. She gave him a pleading look and he nodded.
“It is almost dark, Mrs. Gilray,” he said. “I know you are worried and I would share it with you if it were one of the boys. Claire will not have gone far. Does she have a favorite hiding place?”
Esther put her hands to her head as though it would help her think. Lynette began to move off to the stable before her mother answered. “Yes, yes, Lynette! The stable. She used to love to go up in the loft and watch the kittens with their mother.
“You go there with Lynette, Lord Gabriel. I will see if any of the others know what she had in mind.”
Esther ran with surprising speed back to the house. Gabriel caught up with Lynette at the barn door just as the plaintive sound of a scared child reached them.
“Mama! Mama! Help me!”
They broke through the stable doors at the same time and stopped short. The length of the room was as black as night. There was the sound of a scuffling, restless horse and the hiccoughing crying of a child.
Since there was no groom, Gabriel had been here daily to care for his horse. He knew the layout well enough. Starlight was the only horse in residence. “Claire is in the back.” Gabriel grabbed Lynette’s hand to slow her.
The thud and crack of a horse kicking the side of the stall ratcheted up his fear and Claire’s pleas for help. Lynette pulled at his hand.
“Let me go, Gabriel. She needs me!”
“He is my horse,” he said, holding tight. “Starlight is not bad-tempered, but he is upset by storms and he hates cats.”
“Stop talking and let me go, Gabriel. I have to help her.”
He took both of Lynette’s hands and leaned closer to her. “Let me handle this.” He looked her in the eyes and asked the impossible. “Stay here and let me do it.”
Claire began whimpering, and Lynette closed her eyes. “All right. Only hurry, she is so afraid. Please.”
Nodding, he kissed her hands and pushed her behind him, wondering if she was telling the truth or if she would bash him on the head and take charge herself.
She did not try to take charge, but she did follow him, despite his insistence that she stay back. He moved slowly, letting his night vision grow as he stepped deeper into the shadows. He found the baton he needed and then stepped around the corner.
Claire had pressed herself under the grain bin in Starlight’s stall, a spot the horse could not quite reach. She would be safe enough as long as she did not move.
The white dress she was wearing made her easy to see, and as Esther had predicted, she held on to one of the kittens with all the commitment of a savior.
“Monsieur Papa!” Claire began to crawl out and would have run to him. As she moved, the horse stretched his neck and bared his teeth.
“Stay right where you are, Claire. Let me come to help you and the kitten.”
“All right.” She sniffed and then drew a long wavering breath. “I do not like that horse.”
“Starlight feels the same way about little girls who scare him.”
“I wanted to help my kitten. He is the one who scared us!” the girl said, as though Starlight were one of the boys.
Gabriel could feel Lynette literally breathing down his neck. Thank the heavens, she did not say a word, did not natter with useless advice, beg him to be careful or cry her own tears.
He took the baton and moved steadily down the side of the stall. When Starlight sensed the movement, Gabriel led with the baton, and the horse nipped it.
Good, exactly the way it was supposed to work. He faced Starlight and worked his way to the corner. The horse lunged. Starlight took a bite that most likely ruined Gabriel’s jacket, but Gabriel had Claire in his arms. He ran now, all pretense of calm gone. He had made it almost out of range when he felt a kick to his back. It was enough of a stretch by the horse that it only pushed him rather than knocked him down.
He handed Claire to Lynette and turned to make sure that Starlight was not going to join them. With his stall to himself again, the horse gave Gabriel an evil eye, twitched his tail and ignored them.
“That was what I was going to do,” Lynette said as she cuddled the crying child.
“I was there first,” he said, “and I know how to use the baton.”
“Why do you have such a nasty horse?” she asked as she smoothed Claire’s hair.
“He’s not nasty, only upset by storms and cats. Perhaps I should add bellowing children to the list.”
“She was not bellowing.”
“Not to you, but Starlight has sensitive ears.”
They were walking out of the stable when Wilton’s groom came running down the road with Pierre-now-called-Peter. Esther and the rest of the family were holding on to one another, a good distance from the stable.
“E
veryone is fine,” Gabriel said. “You can all go back to the house.”
He knew that was no more than wishful thinking. He was right. The waning moon was well risen before everyone was settled again. Lynette had disappeared into her studio. Finally there was nothing to do but go to the kitchen to see if there were any tidbits left from dinner or maybe a piece of pie. He would find a spot to watch the stars and think about how to fill his life until Lynette’s trust was something given freely and not reserved only for emergencies.
LYNETTE SAT IN HER darkened studio, on the window seat, with her cat for company, and watched Gabriel make his way from the side yard to the stable. Checking on his horse again, no doubt.
Esther tapped at the door as she did each night and came in without waiting for permission. Putting her candle on the table near the door, she made her way to the window seat. And as was her custom, she sat next to her daughter to talk over the events of the day and plan the morrow.
“It was a little more of an uproar than usual, wasn’t it, daughter?”
Lynette laughed a little. “You do not see chaos as a natural part of our life?”
“With this many children it is unavoidable, I suppose. I am hoping the butler and his wife will help calm things.”
“Our current butler certainly has not,” Lynette said, solely because she wanted to talk about him.
“How can you say that? Lord Gabriel found Claire and kept her from harm.” Her mother leaned closer for a moment as if she would have a better chance to see if Lynette was teasing.
“Mama, need I remind you that there would have been no horse to harm Claire if Gabriel had not been staying with us?”
“Oh yes,” she said, hesitating, “I see what you mean.”
They were both looking out the window as they talked and both of them saw Gabriel come out of the stable. He headed toward the path to the lake house, looking up at her window as he passed. There was no light directly behind them, so there was nothing for him to see.
He disappeared into the dark quickly enough. Mother and daughter sat in silence. Esther was unusually quiet. Finally Lynette asked the question her mother was longing to answer.
“What do I do about him, Mama? He might love the night, but it is the only dark thing about him. For me to marry him, or even be his mistress, would be to corrupt him the way Strauss ruined me.”
“Do not be ridiculous, Lynette. That is not true at all. You will give him the one thing that Strauss never gave and it will make all the difference. Love him, dear girl, love him and all things will be new.”
“Are you not being a little bit theatrical, Mama?”
“No, I am not, and your cynicism offends me.”
“I’m sorry, but not all things can be ‘made new’ with love. I wish it were that easy.”
“Easy? You think love is easy? My dear child, it is the biggest risk one can take. As you know too well.”
“I never loved Strauss.”
“No, but you love these children. You were willing to love me again. They are all steps along the way to a greater love.”
“Where did all this wisdom come from, Mama?”
“Lord Gabriel and I have been talking lately. I have gone to watch the stars with him once or twice. He has a nice spot established at the crest of the hill just beyond the turn in the road. You know, where that copse of trees is?”
God help her, she prayed, he must know every detail of her life by now.
“We talked mostly of his parents and his brother’s reconciliation with Captain Wilton. We agree that love for one’s family is at the heart of true happiness.”
Oh, Lynette thought. Not about me.
“I am to bed now, my love.” Esther pushed herself off the seat with a huff, kissed her daughter’s cheek, found her candle and left the room.
Lynette sat a few moments longer, wondering how honest Esther had been with her. And how hard she had been trying to influence her to go to Gabriel. Mama need not have tried so hard, Lynette thought, standing up, finding her shoes and her heavy cloak.
It did not take as long to find him as she thought it might. He was on the hillside her mother had described, lying on his back watching the sky—or maybe sleeping, for all she knew. As she drew closer, he sat up and turned in her direction.
“Good evening.”
She was walking slowly but stopped short at his greeting.
“If you will assure me that you have no weapons, we can easily share the hill.”
“It’s Lynette, Gabriel.”
“Yes, I know.” He stood up and brushed his clothes. “Good evening and welcome to my observatory, primitive as it is.” He waved at what she thought was a blanket spread on the ground, with another as a headrest.
“How did you know I was here?” she asked.
“In the years I have been watching the sky I have learned a great deal about the ground as well. When one is lying still, I can feel the footsteps. I knew you were coming long before I could see you.”
“What makes this spot so ideal?” Moving closer, she made a turn, feeling decidedly small beneath the expanse of night. “It looks like every other hill on the Downs.”
“This spot is a little higher,” he said, gesturing for her to sit beside him. “It has unobstructed views in all directions and no buildings that I can see. There is that small copse of trees below our sight line for shelter if the weather should turn.”
“If the weather should turn?” Was he serious? “You could see it coming from here and run back to the house in less than five minutes.”
“Yes, well then, if one needed to rest one’s eyes, it would be an ideal spot.”
“Oh, I see, you can watch the stars with your eyes closed?”
“Why would I want to close my eyes when I can look at you and the stars?”
That made her heart melt a little. Change the subject, you have some important things to cover first. Instead they sat in silence. “Are you asleep?” she asked.
“No, my darling, I am listening to you very carefully. Even without words you are speaking volumes.”
How did he know that she needed time, that “I think I love you” would be the most difficult sentence she had ever spoken? “When I first came back to England and could not support myself as an artist, I took a lover.”
“What did you call yourself then?”
“Marie LeSeur.” What did that have to do with anything?
“You do seem to favor French.”
“It was my mother’s stage name.”
“Ah, I see.” He propped his head on his elbow and gave up all pretense of looking at the stars. “Lynette, I love you. No matter what you had to do to survive. No matter what your name is, or was. One day I do hope you will consider changing your name one last time. I love you.” He did not seem to expect an answer, but lay on his back again.
She sighed and did the same. They were side by side, the only sound their breathing.
“Thank you for rescuing Claire.”
“It was hardly a rescue. I know my horse and what to expect from him. There was not nearly as much danger to me as there would have been for you.” He turned his head to her. “Thank you for trusting me, for trusting me to care for someone so important to you.”
“I hated you so much, Gabriel.” She sat up and he did too. “Almost from the beginning. When you asked me what would happen to Georges not five minutes after we left the prison. When you offered me your coat in the rain. Even when we had sex, you were such a gentleman.” She laughed through tears. “You promised me tomorrow. I have not wanted tomorrow with any man, for a long, long time.”
He reached over and wiped away a tear that was trickling down her cheek.
“I have known more gentlemen than you can count and you are the first that I would trust with my life.” Drawing in a deep breath, Lynette let go of despair. It felt wonderful.
She shifted slightly so that he could put his arm around her. She relaxed against him and he pulled her cloak around th
em both as they lay back down again, this time in each other’s arms.
“The stars really are lovely,” she said. “I do not need to know anything about them to feel one with them.”
“They are nowhere near as lovely as you are.” She raised her head so she could see into his eyes, and kissed him. “You shine so brightly that you are all I can see.” He kissed her.
HER LIPS WERE LIKE the rest of Lynette Gilray, soft and welcoming with a touch of spice that came to him in the way she pressed herself to him and the soft sounds of pleasure she made.
“Thank you,” she said when they were both almost breathless.
For what? he thought. “I will be happy to do it again.” Even as he gathered her close she whispered against his lips, “For giving me tomorrow.” This kiss was sweeter, and made perfect when she said, “I love you.”
They lay for a long time. Just holding each other, for his part wishing for a bed. No, not yet. He had to tell her what he had been thinking about before she came.
“Lynette, I do not think I want to study astronomy any longer. I cannot see it as a way to honor Dr. Borgos’s wish, even if it was his field.”
“You have come up with another idea.”
“Yes. I want to study anatomy again, human physiology. To make a contribution as significant as Vesalius. Much has changed since Vesalius wrote his masterpiece. In his studies William Harvey learned immense amounts about how the heart functions, facts that make some of Vesalius’s drawings obsolete.”
“Yes, Dr. Schotzko pointed them out to me.”
“I was thinking that, if you would like to, we could work together to prepare a new set of drawings, with the latest information available. I know several publishers who would be interested.”
She pulled away from him. “You are not saying this to humor me?”
“God, no, most certainly not. Ask Jessup, my interest in physiology far surpasses my interest in astronomy. The stars were a hobby I indulged in until my father could come to his senses. He never did, but his passing ends the wait.” He propped himself up on his elbow.