Broken Wing

by Judith James

  He watched her in silence, his haunted eyes distant and confused.

  “Gabriel, please come. I’m freezing!”

  He extended his hand slowly, until the tips of his fingers brushed hers. A frisson pulsed through him, starting his heart pounding.

  Entwining her fingers through his, Sarah took him in a firm grip and tugged him toward the shore. “Let’s walk,” she said again.

  He looked into her eyes, startled, focused now, and managed a sardonic salute with his free hand. “As my lady commands.”

  She smiled as he stepped from the water, and something strung bow-tight inside her, eased. He was back. Back from whatever dark and faraway place had tried to claim him. She didn’t release her grip on his hand as they walked back toward the house, not even as he bent to retrieve his boots.

  “You followed me, mignonne?”

  “No, Gabriel. I felt like a stroll and a quick dip in my bedclothes on a freezing night. Of course, I followed you, you dolt! You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck coming down here drunk as a—”

  “Why?” he rasped.

  “You frightened me,” she said simply. “I didn’t like the way you looked, as if you were lost, not really there. I was worried about you. I also wanted to apologize. I had no right to pry, Gabe. I keep saying I’m going to stop, yet somehow I never do. I am sorry.”

  “Don’t,” he pleaded. “Please, Sarah, don’t … I …” he struggled to find words, to let her know how grateful he was that she’d cared enough to come after him. No one, except Jamie, had ever given a damn if he lived or died. It meant everything.

  Sarah squeezed his hand, then wound her arm through his and pulled him closer. “You’re shivering. Let’s get you back before you catch your death.” Leaning into him, she tried to share what little warmth she had. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, the blood pulsing through his arm, vibrant and alive, but his skin was clammy and cold. He smelled of wind and sea and she wanted to kiss him, to slap and shake him. Impulsively, she stopped and flung her arms around his neck, pulling his head down into a scorching kiss, before pushing him away. “Fool! Idiot! Stupid, stupid man! What were you thinking? Don’t ever frighten me that way again! Promise me!”

  “I promise,” he whispered, soft against her lips. He returned to her room, by the stairs this time, lips blue, and shivering with cold. Businesslike and efficient, she tossed him a blanket and turned to stoke the fire, briskly ordering him to remove his wet clothes and get into the bed. He did as he was told, climbing onto her bed with the blanket wrapped around him for modesty’s sake as she spread his wet clothes in front of the fire.

  “Under the covers, Gabe,” she said, pulling the blankets back and plumping the pillows. Warming a glass of brandy in her hands, she came to sit beside him on the bed. “Drink this.” Her fingers soothed his brow.

  Gabriel was chilled to the bone, and shudders racked his body, but he was enjoying the novel experience of being taken care of. He swallowed the fiery liquid and settled into the nest she’d made for him, turning onto his side, and closing his eyes to avoid her gaze.

  Concerned that his shivering continued unabated, Sarah dropped her sodden nightdress on the floor and crawled under the blankets to warm him. With only the sheet between them, she pulled him tight against her, vigorously rubbing his shoulders, arms, and back, as his body shivered with cold and delayed shock.

  She’d been relieved when he’d left her chamber, overwhelmed by his pain and frightened by the anger and the barely controlled violence that simmered beneath his surface. She’d also glimpsed the desolation in his eyes, and had been terrified at the thought of what he might do, alone and lost, this night. She clutched him tighter, her nose pressed into his damp hair, glad she’d followed her instincts, glad to have him close and safe beside her, feeling as if she’d won some battle, snatched him back from the hands of some unseen, malevolent, and utterly merciless foe.

  Gabriel relaxed against her as the room warmed, and the brandy and her heat began to chase the chill from his body. Speaking into the silence, he answered the question she’d asked him a lifetime ago. “Sometimes I feel nothing at all, Sarah. Sometimes I feel so empty I think I’m dead. When I feel the pain, when I see the blood, I know that I’m alive.”

  Hugging him tight, she answered, sweet and husky in his ear, “If you feel like that … When you feel like that, come and see me, and I’ll give you a kiss that will curl your toes and you’ll know damn well you’re alive, Gabe.”

  With a soft laugh, he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it, and then placed it snug against his heart.

  “What did you mean, earlier? When you said you were leaving?”

  He shifted uncomfortably, and sighed. “I’ll be gone from here in two months, mignonne, a little less.”

  Alarmed, she pulled herself up, leaning over him, trying to read his face in the dim light. “Gone? Why would you leave? Where would you go? I thought you liked it here. I thought you were happy.”

  He did. He was. “I don’t know yet, Sarah. I haven’t given it much thought. London, perhaps.”

  “I don’t understand. Why do you want to leave us, Gabe?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why would you?” she asked, resting her hand on his shoulder.

  “I signed an agreement with your brother, Sarah. It’s March already, and our agreement ends in May. He’ll not want me here after that. That’s always been understood.”

  “By who? I want you here,” she said, relaxing and giving him a hug as she settled back against him, “and you’re wrong about Ross. He wants you here, too. He can be a little high-handed, and I don’t suppose he felt the need to discuss it with you. He just assumed you’d learn to like it and would want to stay. He and Davey have great plans for you. Davey wants you to be a privateering adventurer, and Ross would have you a respectable merchant sea captain. They bicker over you like little old ladies.”

  “Really?” he asked, startled.

  “Oh, yes. It’s quite comical. Oh, Gabriel! Is that what’s been bothering you? I’m so sorry! I thought you knew.”

  “I had no idea,” he whispered.

  Drawing him closer, she murmured in his ear, “This is your home now, Gabriel. We’re your family now. Don’t run away from us.”

  Warm in her arms, warmed by her words, he fell into a deep and healing sleep. He awoke the next morning, naked and snug in her bed. His arms were wrapped around her, their limbs were tangled together, and his face was buried in her hair. Disoriented, he tried desperately to trace the route that had placed him there. When memory flooded him, his face turned hot with embarrassment. His sex stirred, turgid and aching, and he fought the urge to rub it, rock-hard, against her bottom. It would be a poor return for her care of him last night. He gritted his teeth and carefully extricated himself, trying not to wake her.

  It was the first good sleep he’d had in weeks. Yawning and stretching in the chill morning air, he reached for his clothes. He looked back at her fondly as he pulled them on. She looked like a lost waif, curled in the big bed by herself. Despite his embarrassment, a heavy weight had been lifted from him, and he had no idea how to thank her.

  When Sarah awoke an hour later, she smiled to see that he’d lit a fire for her, and fetched her nightgown from where she’d left it to dry. He had truly frightened her last night. He might have drowned in those frigid waters, accidentally, or on purpose. She’d been too much the coward to ask. All she’d wanted was to bring him back and keep him safe. Now she wondered what to do. Common sense, warred with instinct and desire, telling her that by allowing Gabriel into her room, into her bed, she was risking more than discovery and the good opinion of people she cared about; she risked breaking both their hearts.

  She knew he was falling in love with her. He’d known little of pleasure, nothing of kindness, and he had a heartbreakingly distorted view of himself. He was likely to fall in love with anyone who showed him warmth and acceptance, because he didn’t kno
w or understand his own worth. Trying to be honest, she admitted she’d wanted him from the first moment she’d seen him in Madame Etienne’s library. His kisses melted her inside and out, leaving her hot and heavy and wanting more, but he’d known a surfeit of lust and sex, was intimately familiar with it, and she worried it wasn’t a lover he needed; it was a friend.

  He was so vulnerable, had taken so many chances by opening up to her. Well, damn it! Who else would take the time to know him, to appreciate and value all that he was? Who would have a greater care for his heart than she did? She had grown to care for him far too much, and he had grown to trust her. The depths of his hurt and anger frightened her at times, as did the depths of her feelings for him, but she’d gone much too far to pull back now, not without wounding him terribly. For better or worse, they were embarked on a journey together. Her heart refused to abandon him, and her instincts told her he was worth any risk. There was nowhere to go, but forward.

  CHAPTER

  15

  When Gabriel came, hesitant to her room the next night, he made for the window seat as was his habit of late, but Sarah patted the bed beside her. Needing no encouragement, he eased himself alongside her, gathering her into his arms and kissing her soundly. Last night hadn’t been a dream then. She knew more about him than anyone did, and here he was, back in her bed, back in her arms, kissing her. Shifting position to pull her underneath him, he let out an involuntary groan as a spasm of pain seized his back. He’d been practicing like a demon over the past few months, partly to hone his skill, but mostly because it allowed him to escape from his worries, and his fears.

  “You’ve been overdoing things, Gabriel,” Sarah chided, pushing him away. “You’ll do yourself a serious injury, if you’re not more careful.”

  “Nonsense, my sweet. It’s all your fault. You’re aging me before my time.”

  Sitting up, she tugged at his collar. “Take off your shirt. I can help you like I did last night.”

  “I’m fine, chère, and last night, as I recall, was rather a mixed blessing.”

  “Fine, have it your way. If you’d rather be stiff and sore than let me help you, that’s your choice.”

  He supposed there was some lesson she meant him to learn, but he wasn’t in a mood to be schooled. Nevertheless, after several minutes of pointed silence, he sat up suddenly and tore off his shirt. “There, woman, are you happy now? Have a good look.” He lay down again, on his stomach as she’d asked, sullen, his back clearly exposed to her view as it hadn’t been last night.

  He flinched and stiffened as her fingertips traced his scars, brushing gently down his back. She worked slowly, easing knotted muscle with deep, smooth strokes, pulling and pushing to release the tension gathered there. She moved her hands lower as she felt him begin to relax, working the muscles in his lower back, her movements slow and sure as she allowed her fingers to feel him, to tell the difference between, and respond carefully to, the tension in his muscles, and that in his soul.

  As her fingers worked their magic, something deep inside Gabriel loosened and relaxed. Her touch was calming, healing, and it lulled him gently into sleep.

  He woke to an empty bed. She was sitting on the window seat, legs curled under her, head bent toward the candlelight, lost in one of her books. He allowed himself the pleasure of watching her as she bit her lip in concentration and tapped her fingers impatiently. Something she read was annoying her, he thought with a grin. He watched her fingers, fascinated as they turned the pages, gentle fingers, skillful fingers. He remembered them trailing down his back, and closed his eyes, imagining them circling his waist, stroking his belly. His body tensed again, this time with hunger. Shivering, he drew a ragged breath and opened his eyes, meeting her gaze.

  She greeted him with a sunny smile. “Welcome back, Gabe.”

  He allowed himself a grunt, unwilling to turn over or to speak, the evidence of his arousal pronounced and unmistakable.

  “Feeling better?”

  He twisted his neck and shoulders, and then stretched from his head to his toes, ending with a groan of pleasure. Her fingers were magic. His aches were gone and he felt peaceful and content. He reached for a pillow to plump beside him before turning to face her. “Much better, mignonne. I swear you must be a witch, no, a goddess, like your namesake.”

  She closed her book and moved back to the bed, climbing under the covers to get warm. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, the layers of blankets, covers, and clothes between them giving them both a sense of innocence, allowing them to indulge their senses.

  Much later, breathless and dizzy, Sarah ventured a question, “Gabe?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

  After a moment’s silence, he sighed and rolled over on his back. “You know most of it, mignonne, more than anyone else.”

  “I just want to be sure you know you can tell me anything.”

  Silence stretched between them, the void filled with the sound of the surf, crashing against the rocks below. “What if I told you I’d killed a man?”

  “It wouldn’t make you different from many other men I know.”

  “What if I said I cut his throat and left him to die in an alley?”

  “I would want to know why. Ross has killed before, several times, but he won’t talk about it. He was a soldier, of course, and I told you about my uncle.” She leaned into him, resting her arm on his chest, absently tracing his collarbone with her fingertips. “Davey’s killed and he does talk about it. If it troubles you, you might want to discuss it with him.”

  He looked at her in amazement. “Does nothing shock you, Sarah?”

  “Yes, of course! I’m shocked at what some people will do to children, to the helpless … Whom did you kill, Gabriel, and why?”

  Gripping her hand, he clenched it tight against his chest, suddenly awash with memories. The taste and scent of fear and blood were acrid in his nostrils, coppery and dank on his tongue. His heart drummed faster as memories of ice-cold rage and bloodlust washed through him. “It was just a few months before you came for your brother. He was a German, a wealthy merchant from Brest.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion, but he gripped her hand like a vise, bringing tears to her eyes. “He was one of de Sevigny’s cronies. He frequented Madame’s when he was in Paris. He started coming more and more often. I was with him one night, in the salon when Jamie walked in looking for me.” Sarah gasped.

  “We weren’t … we were just talking. I chased Jamie out, but it was too late. I could see it, the interest and the hunger. He started asking questions, making offers to Madame. I could see her weighing it. What cost this? What cost that? He kept coming, asking. You don’t want to know this, Sarah.”

  “Gabriel, tell me!” she said, frantic and sick with dread. “What happened? What happened to Jamie? I have to know!”

  “Shhh,” he released her hand and gathered her close, stroking her back, his voice colored by emotion again as he tried to soothe her. “Nothing happened to him, Sarah. He had a fright. That’s all. I was going to my room and I heard noises. I thought I heard Jamie’s voice. I went to check on him, and that piece of shit was there with his hands on him.”

  “Oh, God!”

  Gabriel hugged her tighter. “He was too fucking drunk to do anything but scare him, mignonne. That’s all. I swear. I got there in time. I … I was in the habit of carrying a knife. I don’t know, something came over me … a rage … I put my hand over his mouth and dragged him out into the alley and cut his throat, Sarah, without a second thought. I didn’t want Jamie to see, but he followed me, he saw the body. He knew what I’d done. I think that shocked him more than anything else. I can still see it. His eyes were huge and he couldn’t stop shaking. As for the rest of it, I don’t think he really understood what was going on, thank God.”

  They clung together, taking comfort from one another, as he continued, “I took care of things. It’s not hard to dispose of a body in Par
is at night, and I made Jamie promise never to tell. I told him it would be my head, if he did. I’m sorry, mignonne. If Jamie carries scars from Madame Etienne’s, they’re because of me.”

  “No! He was very lucky to have you, Gabriel.”

  “I didn’t have to kill him. I could have left him in the alley, guarded Jamie more carefully, but I wanted to. I knew he’d keep coming. I … I enjoyed it, Sarah.”

  “Good! I would have done the same! You did well, as far as I’m concerned, and I pray you never lose sleep over it again.”

  Ruffling her hair, he gave her shoulder a little push. “Bon Dieu, what a bloodthirsty wench you are! Remind me not to cross you. But it’s not that easy, chère, to kill a man. One thinks about it a great deal more after the fact, than when it happens.”

  “I don’t doubt it, Gabe. Talk to Davey; it will help.”

  “Thank you, mignonne, perhaps I will.” Letting go of her, he rose and stretched, twisting, and adjusting his neck and shoulders as the rosy glow of dawn crept tentatively into the room. He was surprised at how good he felt. The aches and pains of his body had succumbed to her magic fingers, and those of his heart … well, confession was said to be good for the soul. Turning to take his leave, he was struck by how pale she looked. Crouching down by the bed, he stroked her hair. “Are you all right, Sarah? Merde! I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. Not all secrets need to be told.”

  Smiling she reached out and touched his cheek, his lips. “The dark ones do, Gabe. They keep people apart, and it’s only by telling that they lose their power.”

  He realized he had no secrets left from her. She’d taken them from him, claiming them one by one, and then she’d claimed him, giving him everything he’d ever dreamed of, a home, a family, a friend … someone to love. His heart filled to overflowing. Taking her hands in both of his, he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “I love you, Sarah,” he whispered. He hadn’t been thinking, or he’d never have risked it, but she didn’t turn away.