The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection 6

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  Clarissa nodded. "Aye, so I've been shopping down the market real quick. Got some changes of clothes and so on. They'll have travelling rugs, footwarmers, and such like. So should I go tell 'im yes?"

  "Aye, we'll be ready," Gabrielle said, nodding enthusiastically. "And really, I can't thank you enough. However you managed it, I'm very grateful."

  Clarissa shook her head. "Tweren't me, I swear. He happened up to the coaching depot office just after the last full load went west. I heard him, and bespoke the whole carriage for the four of us before anyone else got a look in. Paid him to have supper in the tavern next door, and told him I'd be back in a trice with half his money down now, and the rest when we get there. So it's fate."

  "Still, let's just say you have a certain way about you of managing things, and leave it at that. So aye, go tell him, while Simon changes and I check our supplies one last time."

  Then she kissed Simon's cheek, and bounded off the bed to don some fresh clothes that didn't show off too much cleavage or reek of brandy.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Four days on the road in the private coach with the kind driver, who was a stolid sort who looked completely trustworthy and never asked any awkward questions, took them to Bristol.

  Once there they paid their driver, tipped him generously, and then secured a couple of lifts in wagons bringing their produce to market and then heading home. They got down a mile short from Randall's residence, Barkston House in Somerset, and tramped via the bridleway to the mansion.

  Gabrielle knew they must present a rather bedraggled spectacle, but she had not only been heading for their destination, she had also tried to avoid anyone being able to trace them to Bristol, and from Bristol to here. Of course their appearance was much more respectable now, no longer so tarty, but they were still dusty and dishevelled.

  Lucinda had improved a great deal on the coach journey despite Simon's concerns about the jostling on the road being bad for her pregnancy. She seemed to enjoy the walk in the fresh air and sunshine now, and took Simon and Clarissa's arms patiently as they strolled along.

  Simon still suffered from raging headaches due to the sun, but three of the four days on the road from London had been overcast, and Gabrielle had the presence of mind to buy him a pair of dark spectacles at an oculist before they had set out on the next leg of their journey, from Bristol into Wales, then skirting back round Bristol to Bath, and from there, south to Brimley.

  Randall was, needless to say, astonished to see them. He immediately ordered rooms to be readied for his cousins, and the two strangers who had accompanied them.

  Clarissa took Lucinda upstairs to lie down, whilst Gabrielle was left with the unenviable task of providing the explanation as to what was going on.

  "Goodness, I can hardly believe it's the two of you, Gabrielle. What on earth has happened to you both?" Randall said, leading them into a small private parlor decorated in Wedgewood blue and cream. "Gods, you look done in. Come sit, please. I'll ring for refreshments."

  Simon followed them in timidly and sat in the corner, silently observing the tall, jet-haired man with lapis eyes.

  "So tell me, Gabrielle, how on earth do you come to be here of all places, with Lucinda, who was in Bedlam the last I heard?"

  Gabrielle opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She had rehearsed the speech so many times in her head. Now she quailed, and balked at telling the string of lies she had concocted.

  She took a deep breath, looked over at Simon, and decided that if she was expecting Randall to take her in, he deserved the unvarnished truth.

  At the end of her narrative he exclaimed again, as he had done at the start, "My God, Gabrielle, do you know what you've done?"

  "I'm telling you, Spence died. The kitten was dead too, both poisoned. They wanted to harm Simon and nearly killed Lucinda as well. They were going to slit his throat when I came into the room with my pistol. I couldn't just leave him there, nor Lucinda either after poor Kit died in such agony. Antony refused to help with Simon..."

  "For Heaven's sake, do you blame him?" Randall said, running the fingers of one hand through his thick dark hair. "This is a stranger, a man you know nothing about! I have fifteen children in this house to think of!"

  Simon sat in the chair, his shoulders hunched. He was right, of course. He had brought potential danger to the entire family just by stepping foot in the door...

  "Simon is gentle and kind. They don't know he's here, and..."

  "He's a former opium addict!"

  "But that wasn't his fault..."

  "And in Bedlam, no less!"

  "I've told you, he was put there by..."

  Simon stood, raising his hands in surrender. "The Earl is right. I should leave. I can't put your whole family at risk. I'm glad we told the truth, but now that we have, it's over. You need to let me go the rest of my path on my own."

  Randall stared at him. Something about his quiet dignity and the earnestness of his gaze now that he had taken off the dark-lensed spectacles gave him pause.

  He looked at him more closely, sensing something oddly familiar about the tall, bearded stranger. "Hmm, you say you knew him in Dorset?"

  She nodded quickly. "Yes, we met years ago, when I was younger and Mama was still alive, I believe. He recalls us well enough, anyway, all sorts of details I remember too, even if he doesn't recall his own surname."

  Randall lowered his voice. "And he hasn't, er, hurt you?"

  "We've shared a bed, if that's what you're asking me. I went to him willingly. I love him. No woman could ever ask for a more devoted spouse. We would marry if we could. But there are the obvious obstacles, the main one being that someone falsely certified him as insane. I don't know what to do to overcome that issue at present, but love will find a way."

  Randall shook his head in disbelief. "Of all the people in the world to fall in love with! Gabrielle, I thought you were the more sensible sister of the two. I cannot believe that you would come here and expect me to just..."

  Simon slipped silently from the chamber, and began to make his way out of the house.

  Randall watched over his cousin's shoulder as Simon left, and thought for a moment about just letting him go, keeping Gabrielle distracted long enough for him to leave.

  But peculiar as the whole affair sounded, dangerous too, he had never known her to act so impetuously. Besides, the man, with preternaturally bright eyes and sunken cheeks, looked about all in after so many days on the road.

  "Excuse me," he said, stepping past Gabrielle, and hurried to the door. "Simon, don't leave, I pray you."

  Simon paused for a moment in the corridor, but continued onwards.

  Gabrielle hurried out to him as well now, and shot him a pleading look.

  He ignored her beseeching gaze, his eyes firmly fixed on Randall's face.

  "Simon, I'm asking you to stay as my guest. I'm sorry if I spoke harshly. I was shocked. And naturally I am concerned about my children."

  "As am I. That's why I should..."

  "But Gabrielle is my family too, and she's a good woman. I've never known her to do anything rash or silly. In fact, she's one of the best women I've ever had the privilege to know. Which coming from a former rake like me is a huge compliment.

  "So please, come back inside, sit down, and take some refreshment. If Gabrielle says she loves you, that will have to be good enough for me. Stranger things have happened in this family, believe me."

  Simon squinted his eyes to examine the other man's expression, and could see nothing but kindness on Randall's features. He was surprised to see him smile encouragingly at him, though seemingly without falsehood or in that patronising way people had when dealing with the ill or insane. Or was he just trying to keep him there until the authorities could be summoned...

  The two men stared across the foyer at each other, clearly at an impasse.

  Randall tried again. "Come now. You've been travelling a long time and I've been a very poor host indeed. Please come back int
o the drawing room. Gabrielle will never forgive me if..."

  "But you do have fifteen children to keep safe," Simon said quietly.

  Randall flapped one hand at his side. "If you haven't harmed her in all this time, or Lucinda, I think they will be perfectly safe. So, please, let's make a fresh start in getting to know each other, and me making sense of this whole hellish sounding business.

  "I'm very grateful for what you've done to protect the girls. So come in and have some tea. The servants should be finished with your rooms soon, and you can go up in a little while. The rooms will all be in my wing of the house. My brother Michael lives in the other part with my mother, the Dowager Lady Hazelmere. My wife Isolde is there at the minute. I shall send for her, and we can all four of us discuss this reasonably."

  Simon nodded wearily. "Very well, I'm pleased to accept your gracious invitation."

  He entered the room once more, and sat closer to the small low table in the center of a group of chairs and a navy blue silk upholstered sofa.

  In the four days they had been on the road, Simon had been an easy companion, with a supply of ready conversation and the most impeccable table manners. Now his manner changed completely, as he almost withdrew into himself.

  A short time later, his silence grew even worse, as Randall's lovely red-haired wife entered the room. She was most welcoming, and not the least alarmed at the story Gabrielle told her quickly. She told Gabrielle to pour while she paced back and forth in front of the hearth, trying to make sense of the bizarre tale.

  Gabrielle noted that Simon said little, and was withdrawn and shy whenever Isolde asked a question. He also fumbled with the porcelain cup, saucer and plate like a juggler.

  "It's all right. Try not to be so nervous," she whispered.

  "I'm so tired."

  She smiled at him tenderly and took his hand.

  He stiffened and looked at Randall and Isolde. He expected them to look askance at he and Gabrielle, but instead Randall moved closer to his wife's side and took her hand too.

  "I can see from your look that you must think I'm an ogre. But Isolde and I married for love, and my background is not so lily-white that I can afford to cast any stones. It is a shocking story, though, you have to admit."

  "You're right. But I would do anything to prove my love for Gabrielle. I would like to make myself as useful as possible in order to..."

  Randall waved his sentiments away. "Pray do not worry about that for the moment. If you will pardon my saying so, you're as thin as a scarecrow. You need building up. So that means lots of fresh air, exercise and good food. We can talk about a post for you later, when we get to know you better and you're feeling more like your old self.

  "I know Gabrielle will want to tend to Lucinda, and she can sew very well. I was actually thinking of a secretary to help with all of my correspondence. Gabrielle can do that until you're feeling better, and then..."

  "But I'm well enough now," Simon insisted. "I'm very grateful to you all, and want to be as little burden as possible."

  Randall shook his head. "Your desire to prove yourself and support your, er, new wife, is commendable, but you really look just exhausted. My cousin also tells me that your eyes are weak after nearly five years walled up inside that hell.

  "So I think you need to rest and get cleaned up. Both of you. The rooms should be ready now. Why don't you go see how Lucinda is? Isolde and I will bring you both some clothes to get you started on a new and better wardrobe, and we can send to Bath for anything else you need."

  Gabrielle smiled her thanks, but then frowned slightly. "What are you going to tell your mother and Michael?"

  He shrugged one shoulder. "As little as possible. I think you know why. The fewer people who know the truth, the better. Especially if you don't wish to be found. Lucinda needs to be protected if Oxnard decides he wants to get her back."

  "He'll be determined, if only because he can't remarry until he's sure she's dead," Simon interjected. "So he'll try to find her for certain, and soon."

  Randall looked horrified, and for a moment Gabrielle was sure he might disbelieve him and really think him mentally unbalanced.

  "And I don't think he'll care about the baby," Simon added grimly. "So there's no question that their lives were at stake from the moment he sent her to Bedlam. I'm sorry if you think the danger to her was solely because of me. I don't know the man, but from what Gabrielle has told me, every instinct in me is certain that Oxnard is up to no good and you should watch him like a hawk before he commits even more crimes against innocent women."

  Randall stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "You're right, of course. Even if he's innocent of all we suspect, it pays to be careful. He's had one too many wives for my liking, and Lucinda was the soul of sense and kindness until he got his hands on her."

  "Thank you for believing me. And I just want to say that I do know I'm partly to blame at least, though, for the danger she's now in as a result of being in the cell next to me in Bedlam, and am determined to protect her as a sister."

  Randall smiled warmly then. "There. You have part of your job, then. Take care of Lucinda, keep her and the baby safe. And the children too if they happen to get into any scrapes."

  Simon blinked, shocked. "But I thought..."

  "What, that you were going to be locked in your room and fed nothing but gruel?" Randall gave another smile, which now lit his lapis eyes.

  Simon reddened and tugged at the collar of his shirt awkwardly. "Not exactly, but still, you don't know me, and the children..."

  "True, but I never shall get to know you if I imprison you myself, now shall I?"

  "No, I suppose not."

  "And children have a wonderful way of testing one's character and mettle, and showing a person's true colors."

  "So I've heard. I have little experience of them, that I can recall."

  "Well, good practice for you for the future then," he said heartily, with a glance at Gabrielle.

  Now it was her turn to blush. She did some quick mental calculations. Was Randall right....

  Randall patted him on the shoulder gently. "Stop looking so worried, it will all be well. You've been in prison long enough. I shall trust you as long as you give me no reason to mistrust you. Certainly we have some very good servants, but the boys can be a handful. I hope you like frogs."

  "To eat, study, play with, or fight?" Simon asked with a smile.

  "All four."

  "Certainement. I am originally French, after all."

  Randall laughed at the witticism. "If you're as intelligent as I think you are and Gabrielle has told me, I think you're going to be the one keeping all of us on our toes, not the other way around. But for the moment, it's time to rest."

  His wife nodded, and was at her most welcoming as she said, "This way, please." Isolde led them up to the three rooms they had been allocated, which were all adjoining down a long corridor.

  Clarissa had put Lucinda in the room in the centre, a charming chamber in gold and white which was connected to a smaller room which Gabrielle felt would be perfect for the baby in the fullness of time.

  Simon and Gabrielle had been given the one in the corner of the wing, an elegant room with window seats on two sides. It was decorated in burgundy, cream and gold.

  Simon was sure he had never seen such a luxurious room save in his boyhood home. "This is lovely," he said, staring all around him, sure it had to be a dream.

  She noticed his wide-eyed gaze and asked, "Would you like to look at the other chamber Clarissa has been put in?"

  He shook his head at once. "No, this is perfect. Look at the garden, those roses."

  "It's lovely, indeed," Gabrielle agreed, following his eyes as he stared out the window.

  "Paradise." He gathered her close to him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and inhaled his manly scent, and felt for the first time in years as if she had truly come home at last.

  Randall and Isolde came in a short time later with some clo
thes, everything from night rails to undergarments and evening garb.

  "I'll have the maid start hanging these thing up. Go in and have a good long soak, and just ring if you need anything," Isolde said with a kind smile for both of them.

  "Thank you so much." She gave her cousin a warm hug and kiss, which was returned without hesitation.

  "Since tomorrow is Sunday, you may all do exactly as you please. Just let us know if there is anything you need to help you settle in. Then I shall see you bright and early on Monday morning, Gabrielle, ready for work."

  "Yes, Randall. Thank you."

  Isolde gave Simon a hug as well, told him to ask the servants for anything he wished, and said goodnight.