by Sue London
What had started as a conviction that he would make her to stay with him if he made it out of the caves alive had changed to a cloying panic when he had seen her in the hands of the owler. His heart was still in his throat even now, with her warm body pressed against his own and her breath feathering across his neck. If it weren't for the need to press on, step after step, to gain the top of the Downs he was fairly certain he would sink to the ground and sob into her hair. That wouldn't do. He was made of sterner stuff than to be brought to his knees weeping over the idea of losing this ferocious little slip of a girl. Well, perhaps she wasn't a slip being as tall as she was, but she was light as a twig these days. When they were home he would make sure that she ate at every meal, not just pushing food around on her plate. And she needed to get her exercise. He didn’t know the last time she had ridden for sport since they had stopped meeting at the stables in the morning. That was certainly a routine that should begin again. And-
"Giddy," she said faintly. "You're holding me too tight."
Not trusting himself to speak, he simply loosened his hold and kissed her on the forehead. Anything. Everything.
Jack felt slightly guilty letting Gideon carry her the rest of the way up the path after she awakened. He didn't seem bothered by her weight and she was able to enjoy the solid feel of him, to breathe in the scent that was uniquely Giddy, to know that he was safe. The future was uncertain. He could still send her away. He could bury himself in his work so that they might as well be living separately. No, the future didn't bear thinking upon. For now she would simply relish the feel of her husband's strong arms around her as they headed toward the safety of Kellington.
Gideon rode Tyche back to the manor with Jacqueline seated in front of him. With both of them wearing breeches the thin fabric was hardly a barrier and every step and shift of the horse jolted his wife's posterior against him. He hardly needed reminding of the healthy amount of lust he had for her, but each moment they drew closer to home his attraction was rather viscerally reinforced. As they drew into the stableyard he wasn't sure if he was more relieved or frustrated. He swung off the mare, hoping he could get to the ground and help his wife down before she dismounted herself but she surprised him by waiting patiently for him to reach up and assist her. Once she had her feet on the ground she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and they simply stood there a few moments as the men and horses stamped and milled about them. The light of dawn was brightening the stable yard as Gideon pulled her to his side so that they could walk into Kellington together.
Jack continued to burrow into the warmth of Gideon's side, loathe to give up the security of his closeness. As they entered the main hall, she could see all the servants were waiting to greet the earl. Some of the maids had tears in their eyes they tried to dash away, and Mrs. Gladstone, huddled in a side chair, was openly weeping into her apron. Jack felt Gideon tense beside her and realized that the open emotion was uncomfortable for him. Stepping forward she took charge. "As you can see the earl is thankfully alive. Prepare a hot bath and then have a fire and brandy readied in the study. And a hearty breakfast for all the men as well. The rest of you, go about your business." After some quick curtsies and bows the maids and footman scurried to do her bidding. One of the young maids took Mrs. Gladstone off, the older woman’s head still buried in her apron.
Gideon looked around the hall. "Where is Dibbs?"
Jack sighed. "Most likely with Philip Gladstone."
Gideon arched a brow. "And where is Philip?"
"I don't know, perhaps below-stairs? But Gideon... Philip was working with the owlers."
"He was what?" Shock quickly gave way to anger. "Where is he? I want to see him now!" Gideon marched down the hallway until he found a footman. "Find Dibbs and have him bring Philip to my study immediately."
The footman bowed and then nearly sprinted down the hallway.
Gideon turned back to Jack. "How do you know he was working with them?"
"Because he told me. He came back here to tell us that you had been captured." Jack looked down at her hands. "As much as I wanted to kill him at the time, if he hadn't come back and told us then we wouldn't have known where to look for you."
Gideon pinched the bridge of his nose. "And I most likely wouldn't have made it out past that many men by myself."
"Well, it's possible they would have ransomed you."
"No, that wasn't their plan."
Jack felt her lip trembling. "It wasn't?"
Gideon strode back across the hall to embrace her again. "It's all right,” he murmured into her hair. "I had my bloodthirsty wife to ride to my rescue."
Jack gave a small laugh that she feared sounded distressingly like a sob.
"You impressed Hammond, you know,” Gideon said. “He spent ten years fighting Old Boney on the Continent."
"He hadn't mentioned that. I probably should have put him in charge."
Gideon leaned back to look her in the eye. "You? Allow someone else to be in charge?"
Jack smiled wryly and fiddled with a silver button on Gideon's waistcoat. "I could have been the General instead of Captain."
"Why don't you go take that hot bath while I deal with Philip-"
"But your head-"
"Is harder than granite. I'll be fine." He took her hands and kissed her fingertips, dirty as they were.
She frowned. "The doctor should be here somewhere, but I'm not sure where."
"We'll find him." Footsteps sounded in the hallway. "That will be Dibbs and Philip. Upstairs with you before you decide to end my former steward."
Jack looked over to where Philip Gladstone walked with Dibbs. The young man’s eyes were downcast and he looked a man set for the gallows. It was, perhaps, a conversation she would prefer to miss. Looking back at Gideon, she rose up on her toes and kissed him. Still raised on her toes she whispered in his ear, "Don't go too hard on him." She walked up the stairs, sore all over but glad to still be the Countess of Harrington.
Gideon watched his wife ascend the stairs and ached to go with her. He was certainly far from happy that she had ridden into danger for him, but the fact that she had made him hopeful. Perhaps she still cared for him. Perhaps she still felt the love she had confessed and he had rejected over and over. The thought that he could still lose her made his heart twist painfully in his chest.
He looked over to where Dibbs and Philip waited patiently for his bidding. The young man still hadn't looked up from the floor. This task made his heart feel no better. Setting his jaw, Gideon turned on his heel and walked to his study, knowing that the two of them would follow in his wake. Inside the fire had indeed been started and the brandy set out. Gideon poured himself a tot of the liquor before settling behind his desk.
"Dibbs, you may go."
The butler seemed to consider an interjection but stopped himself and withdrew. A tense silence settled over the room while Gideon stared at Philip, and the young man fidgeted while staring at the floor.
"Well?" Gideon said at long last. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"My Lord, I-" Philip's voice cracked and he finally risked a glance at the earl. "I had no idea they would- I never meant..." He trailed off helplessly, a sheen of unshed tears in his eyes.
"You allowed," Gideon said, his voice soft but deadly, "perhaps encouraged, criminal activity here at Kellington and you never thought anyone would be hurt?"
Philip hung his head again. "I have no defense my Lord."
"No, you don't. Did you have any accomplices here at Kellington?"
"No, my Lord."
"You shall be turned off without reference or severance. I assume that the funds you received from this enterprise will more than tide you over."
"You... you won't be sending me to gaol?"
Gideon gave him a withering stare. "No. You will have an opportunity to redeem yourself in this world, but it will have nothing to do with me. I wish to never see or hear from you again." Philip was nodding his agreement
and Gideon continued. "I will also pension off your mother and as for your siblings they will receive reference letters so that they may seek employment at other houses, preferably at some distance."
Philip's face drained to such a pale white that Gideon thought for a moment that the young man might faint. "You're turning off my mother and siblings as well?" he asked in a strangled voice.
"There will be no more Gladstones at Kellington. Or any of my properties for that matter."
"But my Lord, they had nothing to do with it!"
"You thought that bringing dishonor to your name would only bring dishonor to yourself?"
Philip dropped to his knees and began sobbing. "Please, my Lord, they don't deserve to be punished. It was my mistake, my fault. You shouldn't punish them."
Gideon launched to his feet. "You think I'm punishing them?" he roared. "Has it occurred to you what their lives will be like under the shadow of your perfidy? All the whispers they would suffer, all the slander they would forbear because they share your name? So much as a piece of silver goes missing and who will be suspected in this house? A Gladstone. Establishing themselves in other houses is the only hope they have to not be punished because of your actions. Now pull yourself together and be a man. If you want to help your family you will need to make something of yourself."
Philip pulled himself back to his feet, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and sniffling.
The earl frowned down into his empty brandy glass. "I don't think I have to tell you that I'm ashamed of your actions. That your father would be ashamed of your actions."
Philip nodded silently.
"I want you out of the house by tonight. The rest of the Gladstones will have until the end of the week."
"Yes, my lord."
"You're dismissed."
Philip bowed and stiffly left the room.
Gideon continued to stare into his glass, not sure if he wanted to drink more brandy. His head had begun to ache terribly and just the small amount of liquor he'd consumed was making him feel dizzy. It made him chuckle, thinking that it would start quite the talk if both Harringtons took to passing out at odd hours for no apparent reason. That made him frown again in worry about why Jacqueline had begun to faint at the slightest provocation. She hadn't seemed the type to be susceptible to the vapors but then again he hadn't really known her very long. Less than two months, he mused. It seemed he should hardly know her at all.
Chapter Thirty-Two
"Is everything sorted out?”
Gideon looked up to see Jacqueline standing in the open doorway. She had washed off the blood and grime of the midnight raid, and now looked the part of demure countess again. Her pale brown hair was upswept in a simple style, and she wore the pale yellow gown that looked as though a ray of sunshine had decided to wrap itself around her. Holding onto the doorframe, she was watching him with curiosity and a bit of concern. In the early morning light he could see that her eyes were shadowed with fatigue but she stood with the easy grace that defined her. She had become impossibly dear to him. There was a spreading warmth in his chest, better than the best brandy, just from looking at her. And a fluttering, too, as though his heart wanted to escape its confines and go to her on its own. He set down the brandy glass and rounded the desk to move towards her.
"Everything will be all right, I suppose," he responded. She walked into the room and they met in front of the couches, not touching but standing so close that either had only to lean forward for a kiss or an embrace.
"I found the doctor," she said, her voice huskier than before. "You should let him see to you."
"I will. Eventually."
"I heard you shouting at Philip."
"Don't tell me you're going soft on the boy at this point."
"No, but all of the Gladstones?"
Gideon sighed. "Did you hear why? It will ultimately go easier on them than trying to keep them here."
Jacqueline nodded. "I understand the logic. It's just... sad."
He took her hand, running his fingers over the soft skin and straightening the wedding ring. "Is this ring too heavy?"
She shook her head. "No, I like it."
He spent a few more seconds in silence, absorbed in watching their hands together. Hers paler and smaller than his but possessed of just as many callouses from sport. "It is sad. I grew up with them all. I was never encouraged to play with the servants of course, but on a summer day all boys want to play swords with sticks or sail the seven seas in the pond. At times like those, if we could escape the adults, it wasn't about class or position. It was about who came up with the best games and who won them. Philip always looked up to me. He was like a little brother."
"Oh Giddy, I'm so sorry."
He met her gaze to see that a tear had splashed down her cheek and more were gathering in her eyes. Cradling her face in his hand he wiped at the tears with his thumbs. "No, love, don't cry."
"But that's terrible. You were betrayed by a friend and now have to hurt yourself and other friends because of it."
He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on hers. "A man must always do what's right, no matter how much it hurts."
Then Jacqueline was kissing him and the warmth inside his chest expanded while the fluttering began to feel like a dozen moths trying to fly free. After a few moments he could forget how much pain he was in and simply enjoy his wife.
Jack had known for some time that she was in love with her husband, but his admission that sending away the Gladstones was affecting him deeply made her see the lonely child he had been, and how natural honor and strength were to him. Even if they didn't agree on some things, she knew that he had the best of intentions. He just believed he alone could or would take responsibility for things. That it was his job to always be in charge and make the right decisions. But if he was a good man and mostly reasonable, surely they could come to some understanding on things that were important to her. She would need to convince him that she was a partner, a worthy full partner, whose opinions were to be respected. And that made her realize that keeping the news of their coming child from him wasn't something that a trustworthy partner would do. Much as she was loathe to break the kiss, especially with him now stroking her collarbone as their tongues brushed, she knew they needed to talk before his hands wandered further and she forgot what she needed to say. As she started to pull away he growled and held her tighter. She wedged her hands against his shoulders and pushed hard enough to gain a few inches between them and he frowned down at her.
"What?"
"I need to tell you something."
He waited expectantly and she lowered her eyes to the buttons on his waistcoat again. "Well?" he prompted.
"It isn't easy to say. Apparently."
He chuckled and leaned down to kiss the side of her neck. "Then I must guess? Hmm, you need more pin money?"
"No."
"More dresses? No, not dresses for you. More swords? Or arrows?"
"No."
"Or perhaps-"
"Giddy, I'm pregnant."
Straightening quickly he took a step back, hands still hovering near her but no longer touching. She swayed a bit at the sudden loss of contact.
"You're what?" he demanded. He looked quite shocked and that unaccountably made Jack feel cross.
"Pregnant. Did they not cover that in one of your lover's handbooks?"
"I... of course." He held her hands out to the sides and looked up and down her as though he could somehow divine the truth of it from her appearance. She felt like a filly at Tattersall's. He frowned again. "How long have you known?"
"A few weeks."
His expression darkened further. "A few weeks? And you rode out to the cliffs last night in your condition?" He grabbed her upper arms in an almost bruising grasp. "Have you gone mad?"
She pushed at him again, as well as she could while he held her arms so tightly. "No, I haven't gone mad. As you already admitted, if I hadn't come after you then you would most likely have died."
"Giddy, I'm not a fragile doll.”
"Gods, that's why you've been fainting, isn't it? And the illness?"
"Yes, all that. It's rather embarrassing really."
"You are not to go riding again. And you need sleep."
"Giddy, calm down."
"When was the last time you saw the doctor?"
"Just before I came downstairs."
"What did he say?"
Jack sighed with the repressed urge to throttle her overbearing husband. "That everything appears to be fine but with the strenuous activity of last night that I should get extra rest."
"Don't ever do something like this again."
"What? Save you?"
Gideon's eyes narrowed. "Risk yourself or the child. Do you realize you could be carrying the future Earl of Harrington?"
"Of course I do. And if he can't bother himself to help save his father how good of an earl would he be?"
Her flippancy appeared to shred Gideon's last bit of patience. "Jacqueline, that is poppycock and you know it. I demand your promise that you won't put yourself or the child at further risk."
"No."
"No?" His voice rose with his frustration. "What do you mean no?"
"You have to stop being a demanding tyrant. I won't do something simply because you're shouting at me about it."
"I'm the Earl of Harrington-"
"And I'm the Countess of Harrington," she interrupted. "And I insist that my judgment be respected. I've always insisted on it, you just haven't been paying attention."
"Jacqueline now is the not time-"
His statement was interrupted by the sound of steel sliding free of its sheath near the door. The Harringtons turned to see a petite, dark-haired beauty in a dark red velvet dress holding aloft a bright silver epee.
