Garland of Straw (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 2)

by Stella Riley

  When she awoke, it was full morning and Gabriel was propped up on one elbow, looking at her. Though by no means banished, the shadows in his eyes had lessened and the merest ghost of a smile touched his mouth as he said, ‘Don’t worry. I haven’t been watching long and I slept more than I have in a while. But you already know that, don’t you?’

  Finding this difficult to answer, Venetia confined herself to saying cautiously, ‘You look a little better.’

  ‘I feel it.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ Muted sounds of activity told her than the house was going about its daily concerns. ‘Is it very late?’

  ‘Very,’ agreed Gabriel, without moving an inch. ‘The church clock struck noon just before you woke.’

  Her eyes widened and she sat up.

  ‘Oh God! Phoebe and Uncle James will be here. And —’

  ‘Uncle James? He’s still coming?’

  ‘Yes. I’ll have to get up. Everyone will be wondering where on earth I am.’

  ‘I imagine everyone has worked out precisely where you are. But no one will come to look.’ Behind the careful control, his expression was curiously intent. ‘Another few minutes at this stage won’t make any difference whatsoever. Unless you would prefer to go?’

  ‘No.’ Her mind was confused … and the rest of her far more aware of the proximity of his body than was seemly. ‘I wouldn’t.’

  ‘Good.’ His eyes continued to hold hers in silence for a moment. Then, as if it made perfect sense, he said, ‘Why don’t you tell me now?’

  Even more confused, she said, ‘Tell you what?’

  ‘You don’t know?’ His fingers toyed idly with a strand of her hair. ‘I can’t believe that. You’ve shown it in every conceivable way – both in bed and out; and last night, unless I was dreaming, you finally put it into words. So why not say it now, while my eyes are open?’

  A tide of colour stained Venetia’s skin and her lungs malfunctioned. She said feebly, ‘You - you were listening?’

  ‘Let’s say that I heard – or thought I did. I’m still waiting to have it confirmed.’

  Somewhere deep inside her was relief that at least she’d said nothing about the baby. Everything else was lost in a wave of crippling shyness … and the only words that came to mind were, I can’t!

  But then, as she struggled to say them, something changed. Perhaps it was due to Gabriel’s utter stillness, or the distant echo of Sophy’s words on the previous day. She didn’t know. She was merely aware of a sudden feeling of calm; and, reaching out to touch his cheek, she said simply, ‘I love you.’

  For several seconds he did not even seem to breathe. Then his hand captured hers.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘You know I am.’

  ‘Perhaps. But it’s not the same as hearing you say it.’

  He looked at her, his eyes dark and strangely compelling. Then, just as he opened his mouth to speak, the spell was shattered by running feet outside in the corridor and a fist hammering hard upon the door. Gabriel expelled a breath of furious irritation.

  ‘Hell’s teeth! Is there no peace in this house?’

  ‘Gabriel? Gabriel!’ It was Phoebe’s voice and presumably Phoebe’s fist which beat again on the panels. ‘Wake up, for God’s sake. Ellis is on his way to the door.’

  Suddenly-alert grey eyes locked with stunned amethyst ones. Then, ‘Hallelujah,’ murmured Gabriel. And, dropping a brief, hard kiss on Venetia’s lips, left the bed in one lithe bound saying, ‘Sorry, sweetheart.’

  Pulling on his boots, he shouted, ‘All right, Phoebe. I’m on my way.’

  ‘And about time, too,’ she retorted. ‘Sophy doesn’t know whether to load a gun or send for the cherry cordial.’

  ‘Neither. I want her out of the way. See to it.’

  ‘Yes, General!’ Phoebe’s footsteps receded and Venetia sat up in bed, pushing back her hair. Then, striving to conceal her anxiety, she set her feet on the floor and said severely, ‘You can’t meet Ellis in a shirt you’ve slept in. Let me find you a clean one.’

  ‘No time and not worth it.’ He gave her a swift, purposeful smile. ‘Don’t worry. If anyone dies today, it won’t be me.’

  And, snatching up his sword from the corner, he was gone.

  Venetia waited for one wholly unpleasant minute before running back to her own room so that she could be sick. Then, without bothering to call for her maid, she started throwing on her clothes and dragging a brush through her hair. If Gabriel thought she was going to stay discreetly out of the way, he had another think coming.

  Downstairs in the parlour, Phoebe was saying much the same thing.

  ‘I’ve got rid of Sophy and Uncle James for you – but I’m staying.’

  ‘You’re not.’ Gabriel turned away from the window.

  ‘I am. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.’

  With Ellis already riding into the courtyard, Gabriel didn’t have time to argue.

  ‘Maybe not – but I can.’ And, throwing her unceremoniously over his shoulder, he carried her to the bookroom.

  Phoebe squawked and beat a furious tattoo on his back. Gabriel ignored her and locked her in. Then he strode back across the hall just as the door opened and Ellis walked in.

  For a moment, they faced each other silently, as they had done in Preston; Ellis, elegant in scarlet under a fur-trimmed cloak and Gabriel, unshaven, coatless and dishevelled in a creased, half-fastened shirt. Then Ellis drawled, ‘Dear me. I thought you were expecting me.’

  ‘Dear me,’ countered Gabriel smoothly. ‘What a pity no one ever taught you to knock.’

  ‘On my own door? Hardly.’ Ellis strolled forward, removing his extravagantly-plumed hat. ‘You don’t belong here, you know. And your stay will be a short one.’

  ‘So you keep telling me. Is it a threat – or just wishful-thinking?’

  ‘A prophecy.’

  ‘Then I suggest you don’t hold your breath.’ Gabriel gestured to the parlour. ‘Shall we continue this in private? After all, I’m sure you don’t want too many people knowing what brought you here?’

  Ellis cast him a malevolent glance but followed the suggestion. Then, tossing his hat on the table and leaving Gabriel to shut the door, he said pointedly, ‘I didn’t come to talk. But, before we settle our differences, I’d like to know why the hell you decided to ruin my business.’

  ‘Two reasons. Firstly, it was the surest way of getting you here; and secondly, coining is a capital offence.’

  ‘Only if one gets caught.’

  ‘Which you would have been. And I couldn’t risk that happening before we’d had a little talk.’

  The brown eyes narrowed. ‘Why not?’

  Gabriel stared intently back at him, his face pale but perfectly composed.

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘Supposing you tell me.’

  ‘Very well. Someone has made four attempts to kill me – with a resounding lack of success which naturally led me to suppose it might have been you.’

  Ellis’s brows soared and he gave a contemptuous laugh.

  ‘My God! You’re scared, aren’t you?’

  ‘No,’ came the chilly response. ‘I’m looking for blood. Because, instead of facing me man-to-man, some feeble-minded coward has been attacking me by proxy in the dark. And he has murdered my friend.’

  ‘Then he can’t be totally inept, can he?’ came the indifferent reply.

  Gabriel’s hands clenched at his sides and he experienced a wild urge to smash one of them into his half-brother’s smugly amused face. Then, while he was still trying to subdue it, the door opened and Venetia walked in.

  ‘Christ!’ breathed Gabriel, savagely. ‘Go away. Now.’

  She planted herself stubbornly beside him. ‘No.’

  Ellis examined her from head to foot – absorbing the simple, hastily-donned gown and the loose, gleaming mantle of her hair – and drew the obvious conclusion. This time his laughter was faintly brittle but he still managed to say insultingly,
‘Well, well … it seems I timed my arrival better than I thought. Was the bastard trying to bed you, my loved one? I didn’t think he had it in him. And chilly armful that you are, one would suppose —’

  ‘That’s enough!’ Shaking Venetia’s hand from his arm, Gabriel crossed the room in three swift strides to pick Ellis up by his collar and ram him against the wall. ‘Just how stupid are you? Did you really expect your spiteful games to work their destruction forever? Do you think I don’t know what an inadequate little prick you are… incapable of pleasing a woman but too pathetic to admit it?’ He leaned in and growled softly in Ellis’s ear, ‘As for what you said to Venetia, you sorry excuse for a man … count yourself lucky that I want answers before I start breaking your bones. Now. Have you been trying to kill me?’

  Ellis’s face had turned a dull red – though whether from Gabriel’s words or the iron grip on his throat was hard to tell.

  ‘Fight me and find out,’ he managed, clawing uselessly at the merciless fingers.

  ‘Don’t!’ said Venetia urgently.

  Gabriel’s gaze, harsh and purposeful, remained locked with that of his half-brother.

  ‘Fight you? Why should I? You’ll tell me what I want to know without that.’

  ‘Go to hell.’

  The fingers shifted slightly and increased their pressure. Choking a little, Ellis managed a derisory grimace but kept his mouth firmly shut. Gabriel held him for a moment longer and then, with an exclamation of mingled irritation and disgust, dropped him carelessly into the nearest chair.

  ‘All right,’ he said crisply. ‘You want to fight me? You shall. What did you have in mind?’

  Having succeeded in loosening his collar, Ellis stared back, breathing hard.

  ‘Swords. It’s a gentleman’s weapon, of course – but you must have picked up some knowledge in King Noll’s army of bakers and brewers.’

  Venetia grasped Gabriel’s arm again.

  ‘Don’t do it!’ she begged. ‘He won’t fight fair. He never does. And he’s trained with half the fencing masters in Europe.’

  ‘And I on many of its battlefields,’ returned Gabriel, still watching the other man. ‘Very well. Nasty and common as I am, I’d much prefer to ram your teeth down your throat. But I suppose one can’t have everything – so swords it is. In the courtyard, as soon as you like.’

  ‘Now, then.’ Ellis stood up, throwing off his cloak with an exaggerated gesture and unbuckling his baldric.

  With no preparations to make, Gabriel turned to Venetia.

  ‘Phoebe’s in the bookroom. Leave her there. And stay inside yourself. You hear me?’

  Ellis laughed.

  ‘What’s the matter, brother? Afraid to let her see you humiliated. For you will be, you know. I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘I daresay. But as I believe I told you once before, these things rarely live up to one’s expectations,’ replied Gabriel prosaically. ‘Shall we go?’

  He lifted Venetia’s hand as he passed her and dropped a swift kiss in her palm. Then, closing her fingers over it, he walked out into the hall to pick up his sword. Following closely behind him, Elis swept his one-time betrothed an extravagantly mocking bow and murmured, ‘What happened, my dear? You used to be so fastidious.’

  ‘I still am,’ she said witheringly. ‘And my taste has improved dramatically.’

  ~ ~ ~

  FOURTEEN

  Lost for a suitable reply, Ellis stalked on. Venetia remained where she was for a moment and then followed as far as the door. She knew it wasn’t what Gabriel wanted but she couldn’t help that. She had to see for herself.

  Outside in the courtyard, the breath of both men smoked on the frosty air as Ellis opened with a quick, sweeping pass that Gabriel avoided by simply stepping back. Then Gabriel replied with an equally swift lunge which Ellis was forced to parry – and the blades exploded together in earnest. Steel rang on steel, slithered to a disengage and began again. Venetia shivered.

  In addition to muscle, speed and sheer power, Gabriel had a soldier’s training and sixteen years in the field. Ellis, on the other hand, had acquired tricks from every part of the Continent to perfect a unique blend of styles of which he was justly proud. He also had the advantage of knowing that Gabriel wouldn’t kill him before he talked.

  Ellis produced a cunning flanconnade and Gabriel received a savage gash to his forearm before he managed to parry it. Gabriel responded, quicker than expected, with a counter-riposte which forced Ellis to retreat a little and there was a violent scraping of blades before both of them withdrew to start afresh. Blood began to drip down Gabriel’s left hand and Ellis circled slowly, keeping him at a distance with a series of vicious little jabs.

  Her eyes never leaving them, Venetia suddenly became aware that Phoebe had materialised at her elbow – thanks, no doubt, to Sophia and Uncle James who were standing a pace or two behind.

  ‘Don’t make a sound,’ Venetia hissed. ‘Don’t even breathe.’

  Gabriel had his back to them. Ellis hadn’t and he said jeeringly, ‘You sorry bastard. Is this the best you can do?’

  Entirely without warning, Gabriel engaged the playful blade in a precise, fast-moving attack that drove Ellis back across the cobbles while he strove to counter it. Gabriel completed the sequence with a time-thrust that pierced his half-brother’s upper arm … and Ellis went sprawling as he collided with the ancient stone dovecot. One of the crumbling, lichen-encrusted supports gave way and disintegrated in a shower of masonry.

  Gabriel stepped back, a chilly smile bracketing his mouth.

  ‘Better?’ he asked.

  Ellis scrambled to his feet. Maintaining his guard and biding his time, he said, ‘Brutish and unimaginative. But doubtless it impressed your audience.’

  Refusing the bait, Gabriel refrained from turning his head to look. Instead, he tempted Ellis with a feint against his left hand and the game erupted into a rapid succession of clamouring chimes. Then, at the next brief respite and with the crowded doorway in full view, Gabriel said bitingly, ‘Why don’t you just invite the whole village? You could sell tickets.’

  Phoebe managed a tense grin. Venetia merely leaned against the architrave, white as a sheet and with her arms folded hard across her body. But James Bancroft said sternly, ‘This does neither of you any credit. Remember you are brothers and desist now, before it is too late.’

  ‘It’s already too late,’ remarked Ellis breathlessly. ‘My father made sure of that when he gave my birthright to his gutter-bred by-blow.’ And he made a vicious pass which nearly cost Gabriel the use of his right hand.

  Countering deftly but not fast enough to stop his knuckles being scraped bare, Gabriel said gratingly, ‘If you want to talk, tell me about the marksman by the river.’

  ‘Make me!’ snapped Ellis, deflecting a low thrust.

  Forte locked with forte, over which grey eyes met brown.

  ‘If you insist,’ said Gabriel.

  And, stepping back, launched the most relentless, complex attack of his career.

  Startled by the ferocity of it, Ellis summoned the full extent of his skill but found that it was somehow never quite enough to break through Gabriel’s guard. Then, just as his sword-arm was beginning to feel like a lead weight, he saw the opening he had been searching for. His point darted unerringly towards Gabriel’s heart while his own thudded against his ribs; and, in the same vital instant, a savage and wholly unexpected twist jarred every bone in his wrist and his sword went spinning from his hand.

  Even before it had clattered to the cobbles, Gabriel’s blade was at his throat and his voice was saying unevenly, ‘All right. You’ve had as much fun as I’m prepared to indulge you with. Now tell me what I want to know.’

  ‘Or what?’ asked Ellis, his chest heaving.

  ‘Or I’ll start taking you apart, piece by piece.’ The sword-point moved from throat to sternum with just enough pressure to pierce the scarlet satin. ‘Talk. Now.’

  Since there appeared to b
e no alternative, Ellis shrugged slightly and then froze as steel bit his skin.

  ‘You want a confession? You’ll be disappointed. I know nothing of any attempts on your life – though I’d shed no tears if one were to succeed. And I’ve better uses for my money than paying others to do what I’d rather do myself. Are you answered now?’

  A pair of granite-like eyes scoured his face in chilling silence. Then, against all expectation, the sword was withdrawn and Gabriel said, ‘Yes.’

  Ellis’s jaw dropped. ‘Wh-what?’

  ‘You heard me.’ Gabriel stepped back, wiping the sweat from his eyes in order to take a cursory look at his blood-soaked forearm. ‘I suspected it wasn’t you from the moment you were ready to let me throttle you rather than talk.’

  ‘You knew? Then why —’

  ‘Why go through all this? Because something of the sort had to happen eventually and today was as good a time as any.’ Gabriel surveyed him with annihilating indifference. ‘You wanted to see my blood and now you have. Collect your things and leave. Personally, I hope I never see you again.’ And he turned on his heel and walked away.

  It was all Venetia had been waiting for. With a tiny, half-strangled sound, she snatched up her skirts and ran to him. He caught her in his sound arm and held her in a hard, wordless embrace while Phoebe trudged across the yard to deposit Ellis’s cloak and hat in his arms.

  ‘Don’t be too upset,’ she smiled. ‘Just remember that you did ask for it.’ And she, too, walked away.

  Gabriel let Venetia draw him into the house and then stopped dead in the doorway of the parlour. The table was laden with food and the air was filled with the scent of it.

  ‘I thought,’ volunteered Sophia from behind him, ‘that we might all be glad of some sustenance. And preparing it kept the servants from peering out of the windows.’

  ‘It looks like a funeral feast,’ remarked Gabriel aridly. ‘And, for all you knew, it might have been.’

  ‘Sit down and let me see to your arm,’ said Venetia abruptly. ‘You’re bleeding all over the floor.’