The Vengeful Bridegroom

by Kit Donner

  Hardly able to contain his anger at her brother, he narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. After hesitating, he replied, “I cannot make a promise which I may not be able to give you.” He gave her a brief kiss. “I’ll have Mrs. Lavishtock and Fanny stay with you, and I’ll leave shortly after I talk to the others.”

  Before he left the nursery, he questioned Charlotte about the timing of when she left George sleeping and returned with the milk. She couldn’t be quite sure but thought it was an approximation of thirty minutes, editing the version where she stayed longer to gossip with Fanny.

  Gabriel didn’t want to waste time determining responsibility. He only wanted to find George safe, then he would make Matthew regret he ever played this dangerous game. The stakes this time were too high. Colgate had involved a helpless child, and that could never be forgiven.

  He prayed for George’s safe return, realizing with irony that praying was not a habit of his. If it was in his power, George would soon be back with them, enjoying his goat’s milk and his favorite toy, a stuffed mouse named Baba.

  Downstairs, he instructed Windthorp to offer apologies to their guests for the abrupt halt to the evening, but Madelene had taken ill. The less explanation, the better. Any more detail, and Mrs. Tottencott might call on her distant connection to the Crown for help, which certainly would not do.

  As ordered, Windthorp saw their guests to their carriages and received their well wishes for Mrs. Westcott’s speedy recovery, but Mr. Bush refused to leave. He told Gabriel’s valet, “I want to help. I’d like to see if there is anything I can do for Mrs. Westcott. Please let me stay.”

  He could not be convinced otherwise and remained in the foyer where Gabriel found him several minutes later. Stopping to have a word with his friend, Graham called to him.

  The butler hurried over with a vellum in his hand.

  Gabriel scanned the contents, and his rage burned even brighter. Exactly what he had feared, in Colgate’s own handwriting: “Bring the diamonds to London and you’ll get the boy back.”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d get the boy back, and in the same condition as he was taken, or Matthew would not have only the count to fear for his health.

  Graham told him that Cappie had mentioned a carriage and two horses were missing.

  With a baby and perhaps a stop in Ludlow for Brelford, assuming Matthew’s cohort still lingered in the area, a one-horse rider should easily overtake them. Based on what he was able to glean from the staff, Colgate had about an hour start. A fleeting thought pursued him. Who cared for little George while Colgate held the reins?

  Time now measured in heartbeats, Gabriel changed into traveling clothes, looked in on Madelene one last time, and promised to send word as soon as he had George or returned with him. Windthorp stood at the top of the staircase, small satchel in hand, ever prepared for his master. Gabriel grabbed the bag and ran down the stairs. He was committed to finding George and Matthew in the swiftest time and thought to head first to Ludlow, and then the main road to London.

  Before he left, he issued strict warnings Madelene should be watched at all costs, still worried over her safety.

  On his way to the stables where Cappie was to saddle Mars, he saw Mr. Bush, still waiting in the hall. “Bush, there are few I can trust. I need to get to London immediately or at least on the road to Town. Since I do not know how successful I’ll be in locating Madelene’s brother and our charge, George, I’ll send word for Madelene and the others to join me, if necessary, at the town house.”

  “I’ll remain here to help any way I can,” Hayden told him, holding his hand out for Gabriel’s grasp.

  Gabriel smiled. “You are indeed a worthy friend. Watch over Madelene, for I fear for her health. She loves George.”

  Bush nodded. “Yes. Godspeed.”

  Shrugging on his coat, Gabriel glanced around and whistled.

  No Falstaff. He walked toward the kitchen, still whistling. No black-and-white terrier tore down the hall at him, and he didn’t have time to look in his bedchamber.

  “Bush, one thing more. Remember to have Madelene bring Falstaff. It is of the utmost importance.”

  If his friend thought it odd to travel with the little dog, he kept his thoughts to himself.

  One last matter. Gabriel called to Graham. “Have you seen Alec? I need her to—”

  “She’s gone.” Graham stood steadfast with only bad news to deliver this night.

  “Gone where?” The night became blacker and blacker.

  “Cappie told me a few minutes ago. Alec accompanied Mr. Colgate.”

  Why would Alec go with Colgate to London? For what purpose? And the answer was too ready. Colgate needed Alec to care for the child. He felt a brief flicker of relief before he remembered another possibility.

  Alec had always planned to return to her uncle, the Count Taglioni, and back to Italy. With the diamonds, of that he could not be more certain.

  When he found her, he thought, she had better have feared for her life than gone willingly with the master perpetrator, taking their child from them. They would have a long talk when next they met.

  Entering the stables, Gabriel found Cappie had saddled Mars, whose tail twitched as he moved restlessly, his ears pricked up. He was ready to run. Gabriel grabbed the reins, swung himself up onto his horse, and headed out into the tarnished night.

  After she ensured Mr. Bush was settled in for the night, Madelene stayed up for hours having tea with Mrs. Lavishtock, Fanny, and Charlotte in the kitchen, hoping to learn of word about George.

  Talk came round to Alec, and to Madelene’s surprise or perhaps not so surprising, Mrs. Lavishtock had learned that on the young Italian girl’s journey from the village to Westcott Close, she had fallen off her horse and had been set upon by a wild dog, or so she would have them believe, the housekeeper added.

  Then Mrs. Lavishtock showed Madelene the package that Alec had delivered to Mr. Westcott, who indicated the package was actually for Mrs. Westcott.

  Halfheartedly, Madelene unwrapped the brown paper to discover the latest French fashion plates and pale pink muslin material. How terribly thoughtful of her husband. If the situation was different, she would have been thrilled at the present. At the moment, she could only concentrate on the joy to be had when Mr. Westcott brought George back safely.

  At half past three in the morning, Mrs. Lavishtock shooed all of them to bed. Although Windthorp stood guard outside Madelene’s bedchamber, none of them could have known the danger had passed from Westcott Close and headed in the direction of London.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  There was no sign of the carriage on the main road to the village or to London. They must have been farther along than he’d originally estimated. Gabriel headed toward Town, riding hard for five, then ten miles, the moon providing a shallow light. As he rode, the warmth of the night soon wet his brow.

  If he had given the diamonds to Colgate, if he had told him about George—It made no difference, for Gabriel would never have altered his course, given the chance to change the past.

  Weary mile after weary mile he pushed himself and Mars onward, convinced he would soon overtake the carriage, but this late at night, he passed no one on the road. Exhausted beyond measure, feeling soreness in his limbs, something caught his attention farther down the road, which he could barely discern.

  Growing closer, he saw it was a carriage and breathed in new hope by clicking Mars into a gallop. Thirty yards from the site, he saw it was his carriage, but the horses were gone. Not willing to take chances with Colgate or the life of George, he slowed down prepared for a defensive attack from the rash young man and his companions.

  Nothing.

  Gabriel jumped off Mars before the horse came to a full stop and ran to the carriage. Upon closer inspection, he saw the carriage rested on its side with a broken shaft.

  Grimacing, his first thought was, had anyone been hurt in the accident? But he simply had no way of knowing a
nd had to rein in his wayward thoughts. Nothing would convince him that there would be any different outcome to the situation other than returning George unharmed to Madelene and his home, Westcott Close.

  But where were they? He found nothing and no one in the carriage or in the surrounding area. Where could they have gone?

  He swallowed his unease and mounted Mars again, riding up the road while studying the tracks in the road. Tracks of horse hoofprints and large wheels furrowed the churned-up dirt. Another carriage must have stopped to assist them.

  This was the only possible solution. Unfortunately, Gabriel knew in his condition and his horse’s, he couldn’t catch up to them this night. They were farther ahead and probably traveling much faster.

  “We are grateful to you for helping us in our hour of need,” Brelford told the stranger, who called himself Simon Cumberlane, the Earl of Bevondard. Ensconced in this fine carriage, Brelford looked with casual interest at Lord Bevondard, but knew his preference to be for the fairer sex.

  Luck had played a great part in their adventure this night. After their carriage broke down, the baby crying without hesitation, everyone shaken but unhurt, his lordship’s carriage came upon them, and the earl offered them assistance by taking them to London with him.

  Brelford reflected on what Matthew had whispered to him before they climbed into the carriage. His friend knew his lordship for all the wrong reasons and wanted to remain unknown to him. Matthew instructed Brelford to introduce him as Brelford’s brother, which his friend easily accommodated.

  It appeared years earlier, young Colgate had taken part in a plot to kidnap the earl, in one of his more youthful indiscretions. The earl had forgiven them all, but Matthew had hoped never to see the man again. And here they were, accepting his hospitality to London.

  The child began to cry softly, distracting Brelford’s thoughts. In close confinement, there was little to do but watch Alec rock the baby in her arms, but he wouldn’t stop crying and wouldn’t go back to sleep. Matthew drew his hat down over his forehead and slumped in his seat, presumably to make himself as unseen as possible.

  However, the disturbance seemed not to bother the earl. He smiled easily, surprising Brelford with his handsomeness. “The babe has healthy lungs. I have two fine sons of my own, but it is my wife who knows what to do when one of our children is in distress. Madam, you look too young to have a child, are you his guardian?”

  Alec and Brelford stared at his lordship before Brelford provided a quick solution. “Yes, she is the baby’s aunt. My brother and I agreed to take the babe to Town, where his parents are waiting for him. Friends of the family.” He pointed to Matthew. “He is joining us in Town for the baby’s christening.”

  His lordship nodded. “What are the parents’ names? Perhaps I am acquainted with them?”

  Brelford answered, amazed at his own glibness. “I would highly doubt my sister and her husband would travel in your circles, but their names are Mr. and Mrs. Roger Marchibroda.”

  Bevondard considered the names but momentarily. “No, the name has no familiarity.” Fortunately for Brelford, the earl ceased his questioning.

  It was another half hour before the baby went back to sleep. In the silence, all the occupants finally found rest, if not a peaceful one.

  “How foolish I am, Mr. Bush.” Madelene had admonished herself several times the next morning to her companion when she learned he had remained at the house. “I was of no help to Mr. Westcott last night. I simply could not believe my brother—” She could not finish her thought.

  “Your concern is for the child, and of course, your brother. I am sure he means the child no harm. He must know how much the boy means to you and Mr. Westcott. I gather the diamonds you mentioned must have driven him to desperation.”

  Unable to sleep the last few hours of the night, Madelene had waited and hoped and prayed. This morning, with no word from Gabriel, she had to resign herself to the fact their quest remained unfinished. She stepped back from her wardrobe, handing another gown to Fanny to pack in her trunk. Windthorp had awakened the household early to apprise them they needed to pack for London, where they would meet Master Westcott.

  “I never thought my brother capable of this. I am at a total loss to explain my brother’s behavior. His desperation has turned him into a stranger, a man I don’t know. I don’t know how to help him. But he’s taken George. If anything were to happen—” She lost the tears she was determined to keep to herself.

  Mr. Bush rose from the chair and slowly walked to Madelene’s voice. She held out her hand to him and reached for his when he drew near. “You must believe your husband will find George and protect him,” he assured her while squeezing her hand.

  “Yes, but who will protect my brother from my husband’s wrath?” she asked sadly, knowing there was no answer.

  Gabriel lost no time after arriving in London to arrange a meeting with a private detective, Mr. Oberstein, an elderly wiry man, known among society’s elite for finding lost relatives with the utmost discretion. Unprepared to wait to hear from Colgate, between Oberstein and other acquaintances, Gabriel would search every lodging, from the London docks to the London Tower, every inn, every physician who cared for children, markets, orphanages, until he had exhausted every possibility.

  Then he would start all over again. While he would have preferred to hand little George to Madelene on her arrival in a few days, he knew he couldn’t accomplish such a feat in so short a time, unless Colgate contacted him. Reminded of his wife, he hoped Bush had remembered to send along Falstaff.

  If Colgate had returned to his town house in Bloomsbury, Gabriel would soon know. However, he doubted Madelene’s brother would make it too easy for him to find the child. He’d be afraid Gabriel would steal the baby back without the exchange of the jewels. And Gabriel had to play cautious with any dealings since he didn’t have the diamonds in his possession. Not yet.

  His next item of business had been to find Rascal, a young man who knew many nefarious scoundrels in Town, and who could ferret out information like a dog hunting the fox. The young orphan in his late teens had big ears, long black hair, and nine fingers. The curse of Rascal’s life was to have been born with one finger shy of his left hand. Whenever Gabriel wasn’t in London, Rascal usually disappeared, and no one knew to where.

  His mother had left him in the St. Augustus Home for Unwanted Children many years ago because she had little interest in raising a deformed son. From the young age of seven, he had learned many useful habits, such as how to blame another for his misdeeds, how to avoid work by intimidating the younger boys to do his share, and how to live on the streets, when the time came, and he would be forced into the drudgery of factory working.

  He had escaped the orphanage by his fifteenth birthday and lived by his wits, running errands when he wasn’t stealing, which he considered an art and figured to be one of the best. His life changed when he made the mistake of—or was fortunately caught at—stealing Mr. Westcott’s horse. What he planned to do with a stolen horse, no one ever quite understood, since it would have been impossible to sell the animal in Town.

  The night Cappie caught Rascal, Gabriel, instead of calling the magistrate, hired him on at the town house and gave him a room over the stables. By showing Rascal a kindness never known to him, Gabriel earned the young boy’s devotion.

  Over a month ago, Rascal had trailed Colgate to Brelford’s lodgings to learn of the wager. Only the other day, the boy had jaunted over to Mrs. Grecian’s boarding room and reported back there was a new lodger in Brelford’s old rooms, an unsurprising development.

  Another likely culprit in this drama was Count Taglioni. Gabriel thought it highly unlikely Alec would turn to her uncle for assistance, but taking all precaution, sent Rascal to observe the town house in Mayfair. He returned with news the house was closed, all the occupants gone.

  The next day, before Gabriel and Mr. Oberstein started planning their search and strategies, Gabriel instructed S
tyers, the butler, to detain anyone delivering messages. He knew the only sensible action Colgate could take was to send a message to the house with directions on where to meet to deliver the diamonds and retrieve George. It might be a long shot, but they could possibly learn something from the messenger.

  After Gabriel had spoken to the local magistrate, Mr. Thomaskin, he would have to turn over the diamonds for their return to Italy, and Madelene’s brother to court. Thomaskin knew of Count Taglioni and believed him to be an imposter. If Colgate gave the gems to Taglioni, he had no doubt they would all be on the next ship headed out the Channel.

  What to tell Madelene? That he intended to have her brother arrested for kidnapping and stealing? That Matthew would be sent to prison because of him? Could she, would she, ever be able to forgive him? He knew if her love for her brother was as great as his love for his sister, Lucinda, they might not have a future together.

  A few days later, Cappie assisted Madelene and Fanny down from the carriage and, with the help of the other coachmen, began unloading their luggage. Madelene had no time to appreciate Gabriel’s town house as she quickly made her way up the stairs, anxious for news about George and her brother. Gabriel and Styers greeted her and Fanny in the small but ornate white-and-black-trimmed foyer.

  “Mrs. Westcott, my dear.” Gabriel, dressed in black pantaloons, white lawn shirt, black waistcoat and coat, went to her side and took her outstretched gloved hand and kissed it, his gaze warm and concerned.

  “Mr. Westcott.” Madelene, dressed in a deep blue traveling coat and matched feathered poke bonnet, smiled at her handsome husband, wishing her heart bore no burden. Although happy to see her husband, she watched his face for any sign. “Have—”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Not yet, but I am hopeful—”

  “Woof, woof.” Falstaff pranced on his back paws, trying to get someone’s attention.