Madness

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  Gabrielle noted that Simon said little, and was withdrawn and shy whenever Isolde asked a question.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 scarcrow. 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 sllghtly. “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' tknow 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 kindess 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, 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 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 clothes, 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.

  Finally the door closed and they were alone at last.

  “Well, it could have been a lot worse,” Gabrielle said with a sigh.

  “It could also have gone better,” he sighed. "I was sure he thought I was about to attack him with the toasting fork."

  She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration. “It wasn't that bad."

  "You can say that because you've never looked at me with anything other than love in your gaze. But I know what he was thinking. Lunatic."

  "I'm sorry, but what other choice did we have other than to come here to ask for help?" she argued as she began to sort through their new collection of clothes, some of the items like the undergarments still wrapped in the shop's t
issue paper.

  "None, of course," he said quietly, before sitting down in the window seat.

  "Exactly, darling. Which is why I didn’t want to lie to them. It was far better to own up now than be caught out later. And only fair if they are to be put in danger too just by speaking with you, as you've always asserted. It will take time for them to get used to us, and naturally they are concerned for me and the children, but you'll see. It will be fine."

  "I certainly hope so."

  His tone was heavy with misgiving, however. Gabrielle gave her most optimistic smile and said, "It would be the same no matter where we were starting over. We need to let people get to know us, see that we can be trusted. You're so much better now, and truly no longer an addict, so long as you're careful to never take laudanum or opiates of any sort again.

  "Other than that, we have nothing to fear. You’re so gracious and kind. A gentleman in the truest sense of the word. They will love you too once they get to know you, just as I do," she added, stooping to give him a warm kiss.

  “I would hate to shame you.”

  Gabrielle laughed at that. “After what I've learned about my brother Chauncey? I doubt that’s possible. Besides, I love you, Simon, and I don’t care what people think. So let me just go check on my sister while you pick out a set of clothes to put on after your bath, and then we'll get settled into our new home."

  "A bath. My goodness," he said, shaking his head. "You'll forgive me if I want to wallow in it for a fortnight."

  She grinned. "So long as I get to soak with you some of the time, you can wallow as long as you like."

  He headed into the well-appointed bathing chamber, humming happily at the prospect. "Another glimpse of heaven," he said with a dramatic sigh.

  She heard a loud whooshing sound, and giggled. "Aye, indoor plumbing. All the Rakehells are very modern."

  "From a hole in the ground to the most modern watercloset in one fell swoop. I feel like I'm dreaming."

  She peeped in through the open doorway, and stared at the cream and gold tiled room, with a large scallop-shell shaped bath in the far corner. "Paradise indeed."

  "You can be Venus rising from the sea foam like the Botticelli painting in that tub."

  "You can be my Neptune, darling. Enjoy it. Let me just see to my sister while you soak, and I promise to work you up into the most wonderful lather when I get back."

  He stooped to kiss her, and pulled her tightly to him by cupping both his hands on her rump, leaving her in no doubt of his desires. "Mmmm, I promise to hurry," she practically purred.

  "And don't worry about a change of clothes for me. I think a Bacchanalian toga from the sheets is about all I'm going to manage from now until you report for work Monday morning."

  "Now that really sounds like heaven," she said, casting a sideways glance at the privy, which set them both giggling. She stroked his cheek, then managed to wriggle free of his embrace and pointed. "I'm sure there must be all sorts of nice soap in the cabinet under the sink, so why don't you see what you can find for us both. I'll be back soon."

  With one final kiss, she headed next door, where she looked in on Lucinda once more, and then made sure Clarissa had all she could want in her small snug chamber next door.

  "It's perfect, really. No need to worry," the dark-haired woman said with a rare smile.

  "Thank you for all your help. You chose perfectly for all of us. You've really been a guardian angel, and I won't forget all your assistance and kindness. We never could have managed to get everyone here safely in once piece without you all these weeks, Clarissa, so thank you again, from the bottom of my heart."

  "I was glad to help you all," she said, returning the hug Gabrielle gave her.

  "So I want us all to be able to put the past to rest now that we're here. There is to be no more talk of crimes and bloodstained hands. You’ve more than redeemed yourself, my dear friend, and please know that wherever Simon and I ever make our home, you will always be welcome."

  "The same for you, Miss. If there's aught you ever need--"

  "Gabrielle, please. None of this Miss. And make sure you let me pay you back every penny you advanced to us."

  Clarissa waved away the notion at once. "Don't mention it."

  "Don't be silly. You have children to feed. In fact, if you like it here, I don't see any reason you couldn't find a place for you all—"

  Clarissa shook her head. "Thank you kindly, but I'm needed in London."

  "Aye, more's the pity. But you know where we all are if you or the children ever change your minds."

  She gave her another grateful hug, then headed back to her own chamber. Once there, she locked the door, then went into the bathing chamber, where Simon was laying up at the ceiling, covered up to his neck in bubbles.

  "All right, darling?"

  "The best ever, my love."

  "Would you like me to scrub your back?”

  He grinned. “I seem to recall that that was pretty much how our whole affaire started."

  She gave him a pert look. “Are you complaining?”

  “No, not at all. But I just think you should get out of those clothes quickly before I burst with desire.”

  “Hmm, bursting, eh? How is this for bursting?” She perched on the edge of the tub, took his wrist and guided his hand under her skirts.

  “Oh my. Can I help you with that?”

  Her eyes sparkled with mirth and barely suppressed desire. “I’m counting on it. In fact, would you care to undress me?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Only no games tonight. I really am desperate for you, Simon darling.”

  “I never play any games, my love. They’re fantasies, but they're all perfectly serious.”

  She nodded. “Perfect is the word I was looking for.”

  “In that case, come here. Your wish is my command. You can have anything you like tonight.”

  “Anything?”

  His eyes glowed. “Anything, Mistress.” He sobered at the use of the word. “Wife, fiancee, er,—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said, standing up to shuck off her clothes beside the tub.

  "I do, though. I love you so much, and would never wish to bring about your ruin—"

  She shook her head. “Darling, we’ve discussed this before. I'm no Society belle any more. And we’re married in our hearts. So if this is your way of trying to distract me from all the naughty things I want you to do to me tonight, well all can say is, it won’t work. I intend to show you no mercy.”

  He smiled slowly. “In that case, let the games begin.”

  She climbed into the tub in front of him, and she leaned back against his broad chest with a sigh.

  “There. Perfect.”

  His soapy hands rose up to caress her breasts. “No, now it’s perfect. Just wake me if I fall asleep.”

  “Don’t think I can, love,” she murmured. “I’ll be asleep too in a minute.”

  "I know. The rampant passion can wait. We're here now, and safe. This is the start of our new life together, my lovely Gabrielle. Whatever you want, you have only to say."

  "Then please help me with my back so we can finish up here."

  "Gladly."

  They delighted in the erotic contact in the warm water, but Simon was right. This was just the beginning. There was no need to grab at pleasure greedily, when it was always present with every passing moment they spent together.

  And there was delight in the little things as well, the intimacy of slippery flesh on flesh which soon left them both excited and finally replete after the most blissful lovemaking in the warm water.

  At last they tore themselves away from one another to help each other wash, rinse, and dry. Not a moment too soon, they fell into bed naked, their eyelids drooping.

  “This is bliss," he breathed against her hair as they snuggled under the covers he drew up over them. "A real bed. And don’t even try to dignify what we had at the inns as that.”

  “Wouldn’t dream
of it,” she muttered, her cheek squashed against his chest sleepily.

  He tucked her into his body more comfortably, and they slept the dreamless sleep of exhaustion and complete satisfaction, both feeling safe for the first time in weeks. And sure that despite all the wonderful things they had shared, the best would be yet to come…

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Gabrielle was delighted to be at Barkston House, but she was concerned that living there wasn’t going to be easy for Simon after all he had been through.