Cassie drew a deep breath and forced her way through the more recent memories of horror and death to find the answers Mathilda needed for her own solace.
“Yes, he told me that the bishop had written to him personally about the inspection. He was very proud of the recognition although he did his very best not to be prideful. He was the most content man in the world.”
Mathilda rubbed a hand across her stomach and burst into tears once more. Cassie at once understood.
Mathilda was with child.
Cassie embraced her and fought the tears once more.
“Oh, darling Mathilda! I didn’t know, I didn’t know…”
“Uriah didn’t either. I was saving the news as a surprise for when you both returned. Now I don’t know what to do, but having you here with me, a cousin of his own blood, will make me less anxious.”
“Always! Blood or not, we are best friends as well as family.”
And that was all she could speak, for her throat closed against the tears.
Gabriel let his weight fall in a dead hang, identifying the muscles in his arms and shoulders one by one. He raised his legs and began to swing on the high bar until his body reached parallel with it. He twisted his body, released his hands and then grasped the bar and swung again. This time, he let his body go beyond the horizontal and around the bar.
Another swing gave him enough momentum to form a handstand. He held it, long enough for the blood to rush to his head until it pounded.
He observed the floor and the upside-down furniture in the warehouse. That’s how he felt, his world topsy-turvy.
It had been a week since he brought Cassie back safely to her family. He had stayed away deliberately to give her time to recover from her ordeal, but the promise he’d made to himself to give her time was a difficult one to keep.
He had heard this morning by the town pump that the bishop was arriving from Exeter, bringing with him the new rector of the almshouses while Reverend Williams took on Uriah’s duties. The widowed Mathilda would be gone and Cassie might well choose to go with her.
He had returned to Barnstaple with the plan to triumphantly claim Cassie’s hand. But would she still want him? She’d watched him kill a man. The money he and his brothers had saved seemed like so much dust.
Now, Gabriel’s arms shook with the weight of his body and his head pounded in time with his heart. He shifted his weight just a little which sent his body in motion around the high bar once more.
He went around again, once, twice, three times, picking up speed as he went until, on the descent, he let go with enough momentum to perform two somersaults before landing on his feet.
A shadow crossed the door, Gabriel ignored it and reached for a cloth to wipe the sweat off his face and body. No doubt it was Raphael or Michael returned from their errands.
“Am I bid ‘enter’, or do I take the initiative myself?”
He recognized the voice and its sardonic tone.
“De Wolfe, I thought you, your good lady wife, and your sons would be well on your way back to Cornwall.”
“And wiping the dust from our feet as we left?”
Gabriel shrugged. “Come in and take a seat. Anywhere you wish. We have nothing fancy for a lord, I’m afraid.”
Tobias de Wolfe entered the warehouse and made his way to the center of the room.
“I was surprised when you and your brothers left my employ a few days ago and didn’t return. I would have thought you would return for your payment at least. You’ve certainly earned it.”
“It was never about the money – you said so yourself.”
“Indeed, but a man has to eat. He also needs to have a roof over his head and a future… for his wife.”
Gabriel shrugged on a thick woolen tunic over his shirt to stave off the chill.
“A wife…” he said. “There have been days my brothers and I struggled to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. As much as my heart desires it, I cannot afford a wife.”
“I have a proposition for you – for all of you if you wish it.”
“I’m listening.”
“I need good men, resourceful men. If you think that the raid on Lundy Island is the end of Janszoon and his devils, then you have another thing coming. The pay is good for each of you – enough for a home and to support a wife, too.”
It was an offer that sounded too good to be true. But there it was; a glimpse to a future far better than he could offer Cassie on his own. He could take it.
“I’ll recommend my brothers accept your offer. It is an extremely generous one, my Lord, and a man would be a fool not to take it.”
“For your brothers, but not for yourself. So, does that make you a fool, Gabriel? Especially when you hold their loyalty, not me. If you refuse, then they will also. Is it your pride which makes you refuse?”
Perhaps it was, although Gabriel would rather cut out his own tongue than say so.
De Wolfe approached and lowered his voice. “The winds of change are coming. Our king fights enemies within and without, but the most important fight of all is for liberty. Have you ever heard of the Petition of Rights?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“You will. I have ordered a copy from London. The king has suspended Parliament. These are perilous days for every man. Nothing is certain, except the loyalty and trust men show one another. We need friends and allies… I need friends and allies. I hope to count you among them.”
De Wolfe swept a cloak over his shoulder and prepared to leave.
“Think about it, Gabriel. I’ll return for your answer tomorrow. In the meantime…”
He withdrew a coin purse from his belt and tossed it. Gabriel caught it with one hand.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mathilda had encouraged her to get out of the house and Cassie was glad to go. To see all their possessions packed away made her mourn even more for Uriah.
She went to the churchyard and found his grave, the soil on top still smelled fresh. She stared at the flowers that adorned the grave as yet unmarked. They were beginning to rot. Leaves that had once been green were now brown. The flowers which once would have proudly raised their heads to the sun now bowed. Defeated, giving in to the inevitable power of death.
O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
The words from Scripture gave her little comfort. Perhaps in time she would find meaning in the sting of death and its bitter victory.
Her walk took her to the crossroads. A right turn would take her to Wharf Street. She might find Gabriel there. What she wanted more than anything was to feel his arms around her. His body holding hers. Perhaps, he could free her heart from its prison as he had freed her body.
If only she had the courage to ask for it. If only she had the courage that Gabriel showed all that time ago when he asked her to teach him how to read.
Suddenly, she needed to see her classroom once more and try to remind herself of her life before her abduction.
Cassie pulled out a key to the classroom and hesitated. It would be depressing, another reminder of hope and plans brought to naught. And it would be the responsibility of someone else now that she and Mathilda were to leave the rectory for a new vicar to take up the living that had once been her cousin’s.
She entered nonetheless and, instead of sadness, the room was filled with sprays of soft bluebells and vivid white snowdrops, bright purple orchids and delicate pink foxgloves, and with them the sweet aroma of rare fresh oranges spiked with cloves.
Newly lit candles directed her attention to the blackboard. Written in a neat cursive hand was the stanza of a poem.
I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then?
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den?
’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.
If ever any beauty I did see,
Which I
desired, and got, ’twas but a dream of thee.
“‘And now good morrow to our waking souls, which watch not one another out of fear; For love, all love of other sights controls, and makes one little room an everywhere.’”
The voice seemingly came from nowhere but she knew it – the voice, the words, and she mouthed along with them silently.
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,
Let maps to others, worlds on worlds have shown,
Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one.
Cassie turned to find Gabriel before her and her heart tightened as she took in his face, as beautiful as it was handsome. The look in his eyes as he continued to recite the words of the poet John Donne made her blood warm.
He removed his hat, the blond stands of his hair glowed gold in the lamplight.
“Is there room for one more student?” he asked.
She closed her eyes a moment and smiled. Trust Gabriel to remember.
“There is always room for those who want to learn. I’m sure the new schoolmaster would be only too happy to have another pupil.”
Gabriel shook his head. He approached. “There is only one teacher I want. Only one I need. Teach me everything, beloved Cassie – help me to become a gentleman… and a husband.”
Husband?
“In the absence of a father, I spoke to Mathilda today about my intentions.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My brothers and I have accepted an offer to become de Wolfe’s men. I’ve promised Mathilda a home under our roof for as long as she wishes as a small return for the measure of kindness that she and Uriah showed us when we first met.”
Her hands were now in his. Gabriel brought them to his lips and kissed them one by one at the wrist where the flesh was exposed between her glove and her sleeve.
An arm slipped around her waist, drawing her to him.
“Marry me, Cassie. Consent to be my wife.”
Her arms wound around his neck. She pressed her body to his and sighed in his ear, delighting in his groan, reveling the fact she could bring him undone with her body and her mind.
“I will, my beloved angel,” she told him. “I am yours; forever yours.”
Her lips were claimed by his and she responded with equal fervor.
And in his kiss she found her answer – to love and to live in full measure in the face of the inevitable trials. That was where they would find their victory.
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;
Where can we find two better hemispheres,
Without sharp North, without declining West?
Whatever dies was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike that none do slacken, none can die.
THE END
The de Wolfe of Wharf Street Page 15
