Born of Proud Blood

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  Now, traveling on Christmas Eve to Glenshire Sussex and Riley was something he had anticipated for weeks. It was time to prepare a path of stones for her to walk down and proclaim his intentions. And he did not want a drawn out affair after his declaration was made public. Waiting another year to wed her was something he did not wish to do. He wanted to visit Raven in Limerick with his new bride, as well as gift Riley with another surprise while in Ireland...that being meeting her father’s people. His brother-in-law, Lord Braiton Shannon found the Delaney family and arranged a reunion. Then he planned to journey onto America, all within a span of a few months. Besides, he was sure if he had to wait any longer to make Riley completely his, the very core beneath his bones would explode.

  Charles brought the carriage around to the back of the mansion, as Gabriel instructed when he was picked up at the train station. Together the two of them outlined the path that led from the solarium door to the stable.

  “And ye say, sir, this tactic works with the ladies back in yer ’omeland?” Charles inquired.

  “Not in the entire land, Charles. But the idea has been an Apache marriage tradition for centuries.”

  Charles frowned. “Wonder if by chance it would work on Jane?”

  He arched a brow. “I was under the impression, from what Riley tells me, that Jane has already agreed to wed you.”

  “Aye, to wed me, but she has yet to set a date,” Charles said. “And I’m needin’ it to be soon, if ye know what I mean, sir?”

  He chuckled. “I know only too well, Charles.”

  Charles’s frowned deepened. “Do ye think all this will get Jane movin’ in the right direction?” He indicated the stones with his hand.

  “I can only say the women in my tribe are completely flattered by the attention.” He gave Charles a pat on the back. “But, my friend, you will not know anything until you try.” Gabriel bent to put the last stone in place. “And since Jane has been made aware of this tradition, it just might do the trick. You are more than welcome to use the path when I am through with it.”

  Charles returned the smile with a large one of his own, his eyes beaming with excitement. “Aye, sir, I believe I will take ye up on that offer. The whole idea just might give my Jane an immense thrill enough, perhaps, to finally set a date.”

  After brushing his hands together to clean them, he straightened his waistcoat and made his way around to the front of the mansion. “Good luck to you, Charles,” he said over his shoulder.

  “And to ye as well, sir,” Charles called out.

  Regis met him at the front door. “Good cheer to you, sir,” he said, taking Gabriel’s coat. “I assume your trip from Brighton was satisfactory.”

  He smiled down at the efficient little man. “All went well, thank you, Regis.” He looked around the gaily-decorated foyer. Small wreaths lined the staircase banister, and candles of all sizes and colors set upon the hall tables illuminated the room with a warm glow. “Everything looks so festive,” he commented.

  “Aye, Lady Collins loves the holidays and spares no expense to make Collins Stead inviting to all who grace her doors,” Regis replied.

  “Well, she has done a fine job,” he said, taking another glance at the splendor before him. “And where might I find Riley this evening?”

  “She is engaged in the parlor, sir, with Lady Collins, Leah, and Oliver,” Regis supplied.

  When he entered the parlor, his breath was taken away at the beautiful picture Riley made, standing by the large, decorated Christmas tree. The red and gold balls reflected against their shiny orbs the light from the many candles placed upon the mantel, end tables, and the grand piano. But Riley was the real vision of beauty, the mere sight of her made his spirits come strongly alive. She was dressed in a cranberry-colored velvet gown, trimmed with ivory lace at the dipping neckline and cuffs. And her ginger hair was pulled atop her head, large curls cascading to the middle of her back.

  She smiled when she saw him and ran into his embrace. He held her tight, inhaling the scent of lavender and musk that met his senses.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered in his ear.

  “As I have you,” he said, meeting her mouth with his own and placing upon her lips a long, deep kiss. She was so sweet to the taste, and his heart raced at the nearness of their bodies.

  Lady Collins, sitting in a chair by the fire, cleared her throat. It was a discreet warning, and immediately Riley broke the kiss.

  As she stepped from his embrace, color mounted her face. “You’ve come just in time.”

  He chuckled. “Do I dare ask in time for what?”

  “For placing the angel atop the tree,” she said, making her way to a box sitting on a nearby table. “It is the last of the decorations to go on the tree, and only you are tall enough to reach the highest bough,” she explained as her dreamy gaze held his. “Would you do us the honor?” She handed him the white satin and feather clad ornament.

  “I would be proud to,” he said, reaching up with little effort to place the angel where she belonged.

  “Do help yourself to a bit of eggnog, Gabriel,” Lucinda said in a jovial manner, gesturing to a serving cart beside the sofa.

  “It’s spiked with brandy,” Leah chimed in. “And it makes ye feel all warm inside.”

  “I’d say, love, ye best not be drinkin’ anymore, or else I’ll be carryin’ ye to bed before dinner,” Oliver’s loving tone warned.

  Leah giggled, batting her lashes at her young husband. “And would that be so wrong?”

  Gabriel stifled a smile as he caught Oliver’s face warming to Leah’s words. He had the distinct impression Oliver was thinking there might not be anything wrong with such an idea after all.

  Lucinda cleared her throat again. “Hush, all of you now, as I am about to tell you the legend of the Christmas tree.”

  Riley neared him. “It is tradition for Auntie Cinda to tell this story each year on Christmas Eve. In view of the fact your people love storytelling, I’m sure you’ll enjoy listening to this one since the Christmas tree has come to play such an important part in celebrating the holidays.”

  Lady Collins waited until everyone was comfortably settled. “The legend of the Christmas tree has been handed down to us from the early days of Christianity in England. It has been said that in those beginning times the one who helped spread the word of Christ among the Druids was a monk by the name of Wilfred, later to become, Saint Wilfred. One day the young monk, encircled by his many converts, struck down a tree, a huge oak tree to be exact.” Lucinda dramatically paused for effect, as a good storyteller often does. “Now, the oak tree is an object of worship in the Druid religion,” she further explained. “So as it fell to the earth, the tree divided into four sections. And lo and behold, from the center a young fir tree miraculously raised.”

  Leah gasped, her eyes wide with surprise.

  Oliver swallowed hard as he draped an arm around his young wife’s shoulders.

  “The converts gazed amazed as the tree pointed a green pinnacle toward the heavens,” Lucinda continued. “Dropping his axe, Wilfred proclaimed the tree to be a Holy Tree. He told the converts a fir tree’s timber is the wood of peace, for their homes were all built from fir lumber. And the evergreen leaves, pointing heavenward, were a sign of infinite life. Wilfred called the fir, the tree of the Christ Child and encouraged all to gather about it, not out in the wilderness, but instead inside the warmth of their homes. Once within each dwelling, the tree would be the center of all the festivity, surrounded by gifts of love. And to this very day, the fir tree remains our loveliest symbol of the Christmas holiday,” Lucinda concluded. “In some homes it is topped with a star, in others an angel, and decorated with ornaments of all shapes and sizes.”

  “Such a beautiful legend,” Gabriel commented. “I am so pleased to have been a part of you telling it, my lady. My father would say you are an excellent storyteller, worthy of tribal honor.” Lucinda, sitting back in her chair, beamed with satisfaction
at his praise. Gabriel took advantage of her good spirit and spoke further. “I would ask your permission, now to steal Riley away for just a few moments before the evening meal is served.”

  “Permission granted,” Lucinda agreed.

  Taking Riley by the hand, he led her out of the parlor, through the foyer, past the library, and into the solarium. Once at the back entrance, he stopped, turned toward her, and smiled. “Wait here.”

  Completely baffled, she spoke not a word but nodded.

  Gabriel opened the kitchen door and walked down the path to the end, then disappeared behind a tree. His smile grew as he heard Riley’s squeal of delight once she realized what was happening. Her slipper-clad feet ran down the path, halting at the end.

  That was when he jumped out from behind the tree, neared her, and knelt upon one knee. “Riley Flanders, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  “Oh, aye, Gabriel, that I will,” was her breathless response, tears of joy glistening in her eyes.

  Her agreement sparked bliss throughout his body, such happiness and contentment he had not felt in a very long time. Standing, he gathered her into his arms, carried her from the winter’s night cold, and back into the warmth of the solarium. With the tip of a booted toe, he kicked shut the door. Then he placed her down upon her own two feet and recaptured her into his hold. He kissed each of her eyes, her nose, and her chin. She threw her head back and willingly offered him the creamy expanse of her neck.

  Without hesitation he complied. Down her neckline his lips traveled, past her throat, to the plunging décolletage of her gown. She gasped but did not protest. Instead, she trembled with desire. His heart raced, his loins swelled, as he tasted the soft mound of a breast with the tip of his tongue.

  “Gabriel, oh Gabriel,” she whispered, leaning into him.

  Encouraged, excited, completely enticed, he pulled her against his swollen member. She gasped again at the feel of his erection but still did not object. However, just as he was about to be so bold as to caress her firm, rounded backside with the palm of his hand, Regis cleared his throat behind them.

  “Begging your pardon, but dinner is now ready to be served,” Regis droned.

  Riley jumped from his embrace, her face scarlet. Covering her neck with a hand, as if that would hide the kisses he just rained upon her flesh, she flew past Regis and out of the solarium without a word said.

  Gabriel ran a hand threw his hair. “Thank you, Regis,” he managed in a shaky tone.

  “Sir, it is my personal rule not to meddle,” Regis began, his face pinched in the usual constipated expression. “Keeping one’s mouth shut and turning a blind eye has kept me employed for two decades at Collins Stead.”

  Gabriel acknowledged the other man’s words with a taut nod while he straightened his waistcoat.

  “But I wish to break my rule for just this once, if you would allow?”

  He nodded again. “Feel free to speak your mind, Regis.”

  Regis inclined his head politely. “Thank you, sir.” He cleared his throat again, but this time his esophagus cleansing sounded more like a reaction someone would do before giving a speech. “I have watched Miss Riley grow from a scared, shy mite to a strong and beautiful young woman, and now to an intelligent and independent lady. Lucinda Collins has done right by showing Miss Riley the virtues of respectability. I am proud of the many accomplishments Miss Riley has made, in spite of all the challenges she’s had to face. And in these years that have past, I have grown to care about her as though she were one of my own.”

  “That is admirable of you, Regis,” he said, suddenly realizing a protector does not always have to be a man of warrior status or one who wields a weapon. Regis, by the standards of brawny men, would probably be looked upon as somewhat of a dandy fellow, though his preference for the delights afforded by his own kind was not a fact anyone could attest to. And yet, no matter what his liking may be or his puny physical attributes, Regis had the fortitude to stand by a young woman of his household. Much like Gabriel did for his sister when he confronted Rafe’s intentions before they became happily wed.

  “Thank you, sir.” Regis squared his shoulders. “And within these few years, I have also become quite fond of you as well. It is for this reason I am compelled to speak from my heart.”

  “I am listening,” he said.

  “I fear you will bring disgraceful ruin upon Miss Riley’s reputation.”

  He frowned. “I would never allow anyone or anything to smear Riley’s good name.”

  Regis arched a brow. “And yet I have caught you thrice, to be exact, in the act of taking advantage of her virtue.”

  “I was not...I did not mean to...” he stammered, the guilt and shame of his insensitive behavior rising to gag him.

  “Riley is not, at this point, comparable to the likes of Collette Halston. However, if you do not make an honest woman of her soon, that is exactly the type of individual she will become, and how all of society will see her,” Regis warned.

  Gabriel pondered the elder man’s words before he spoke. “This is a delicate subject we tread upon, my friend. And I want you to know I hear your concerns loud and clear. I could not agree with you more. That is why I have asked Riley to be my wife.”

  Regis’s stone-faced expression broke into a relieved smile. “Oh, very good, sir. Very, very good indeed. I am truly pleased to hear this news. And if you don’t mind me inquiring, sir, what was the lady’s response?”

  “She has accepted my proposal. She clearly and most definitely said, yes.”

  It was the first time he ever heard Regis laugh; in truth, it sounded more like a mix between a chuckle and a grunt. “That’s very good, sir. Very good indeed,” he repeated.

  “I think so as well,” Gabriel agreed. “Now, if there is nothing else troubling you, I believe my dinner is waiting.”

  Regis inclined his head politely. “After you, sir.”

  “Thank you, Regis. And I would like to take this time to thank you again for caring so much about Miss Riley...about all of us,” he added warmly, as he made his way to the dining room.

  Chapter Thirty

  Glenshire Sussex, England

  February 1895

  Riley’s wedding day had finally arrived. It was the moment she’d dreamed of since she was old enough to wish upon a star, admire a beautiful gown, and fancy herself in love with a handsome prince. Though Gabriel Golden Eagle was not a prince, he was a handsome warrior, and she was very much in love with him.

  As she smoothed the cream-colored silk and satin skirt of her gown, she smiled at her reflection she presented in Lucinda’s full-length mirror.

  “You are a vision of loveliness.” Lucinda rose from her seat at the foot of her bed. “I am so pleased you agreed to wear my mother’s gown.” The elder woman sighed. “Since I was never able to make use of it, I’m sure Mum would be happy you are.”

  “I am honored beyond words, Auntie Cinda,” she said, gently stroking the gown’s beautiful laced sleeves. “And so very thankful for all you’ve done for me these past twelve years.” She turned from the mirror to face the elder woman, giving her a big hug. “None of what I have or this day would have ever been possible for me, if it weren’t for you taking me in when Anita passed.”

  “It is I who should be thanking you,” Lucinda whispered.

  Riley pulled back to look into the soft, aged eyes of the woman who saved her life. “Thank me for what?”

  “For being the daughter I never had,” Lucinda said, eyes welling with unshed tears. “I don’t know what I shall do now without you.”

  She smiled in spite of the tears filling her own eyes. “You have plenty to do, my lady. With Simon and Fiona Cavendish and their growing family nearby and Leah’s announcement just last week that she’s with child, you will be up to your ears with newborn babies, and all the commotion that accompanies them.”

  Lucinda sighed again. “Though all of them are splendid in their own way, none of them is you, my
dear.” She forced a smile and affectionately patted Riley’s cheek. “And you must always know whenever you and Gabriel wish to return, a place waits for you at Collins Stead. When I am dead and gone, this mansion will be left to Gabriel and his sisters. He promised me it would stay in the family. And the smaller mansion, though the Cavendish’s dwell there now, still belongs to you.”

  “We shan’t speak of your passing, for you have many good years ahead. Besides, it is bad luck to talk of such sorrow on a happy day,” she said, squeezing Lucinda’s arm affectionately.

  “So true, my dear, but I wanted you to know my wishes, if and when you and Gabriel come back to England.”

  “And until we decide to return, the Cavendish family will take care of the main mansion for us, leaving the smaller mansion empty again. So, I would like for your barrister to make a provision whereby Oliver and Leah would mind it in my absence,” she said.

  “Aye, first thing on Monday I will do just as you asked,” Lucinda promised. “Enough with such sentimental nonsense, or else you’ll not be ready when your attendants arrive. And Jane,” she added, glancing around the bedchamber with a frown. “Where in God’s name is that woman?”

  She giggled. “You’ve sent her to fetch us tea.”

  Lucinda’s frown deepened. “So I did. Well, she needn’t be taking so long. There’s your hair yet to arrange,” she said, reaching out to gently touch a lock of Riley’s hair.