A Gallant Gamble (21 page)

Charlotte felt her tears gather again at Coalport’s declarations of devotion. She didn’t think that Geoffrey could ever feel that level of emotion for her, even if they did manage to make a life together.

“Thank you for trusting me with your news. I won’t breathe a word until you say.” She assured him as he walked back towards the door. She followed him into the hallway.

“I’ll be back before you know it, hopefully with your husband in tow.” He picked up his hat and coat, opened the front door, and disappeared into the night.

Chapter Ten

Desperation and Desire

They didn’t find him for nearly two days.

On the point of despair, Charlotte had been about to join the search with her cousin and Geoffrey’s new friends. A frantic Giles had already sent for Alexander, Charles Latham, Hubert Carruthers and Anthony Torrington to assist him in the search by the time Coalport and Giles’ own personal valet, Craddock, sent a boy with news from the dockside.

A bundle of sodden rags had been discovered crawling along the foreshore. Half drowned with his lips cracked and face barely recognizable from the beating he had received, Geoffrey looked to be almost dead. Giles immediately sent for Callum with the carriage and between them all they managed to take Geoffrey back to the house in St. George Street. Geoffrey barely groaned as they carried him up the stairs and he slipped into unconsciousness soon after.

Coalport insisted on tending to Geoffrey, washing his filthy hair and grime covered body until only the bruises were visible to mar his skin. After the sheets were changed, the doctor pronounced that his patient, apart from being nearly pummelled to death, was under the influence of some kind of hallucinatory drug. Only time would relieve him of the symptoms. In the meantime Geoffrey’s skinned knuckles and his broken ribs appeared to be the worst of his injuries, though the bruises that covered his body would take weeks to heal completely.

Charlotte stood with Giles at the bedside almost choking with emotion as she surveyed her unconscious husband’s broken and battered body. She stared in horror at his black, swollen eyes, his bloody split lips and the dark purple bruise on his cheek and forehead.

“Who would do this to him? Why would they? Geoff never hurt a soul in his whole life.” She wept into Giles’ chest.

Giles smoothed his distraught cousin’s hair as he wondered how he could break the circulating news to her. Rumours were already rife about town. He would rather Geoffrey wake and tell her himself, but knowing how gossip spread, it might already be too late if he left it until the man woke. He decided to tell her the worst before she heard from anyone else.

“Charlotte, I cannot lie to you. I have some news that will make for hard listening...Word is that he drank himself under the table at one of the inns in Cheapside. Two women escorted him to the bedrooms above, where he apparently paid them for their services.” He held her against him as her legs began to give way beneath her. He gave her a small shake. “Charlotte, have strength and listen to what I have to say. I don’t believe that he meant for anything to happen, but the women had already seen the quality of his clothing and the gold in his purse. I believe that they purposely laced his drink with whatever has drugged him. They stole his money and after they had robbed him of all he had, their men beat him and dumped him. I think that they hoped he would turn up dead, but hadn’t reckoned on his strength and fitness. Not many men would be able to withstand the treatment they put him through. The doctor says that his knuckles prove that he fought back with everything he had, but against several coves his strength was clearly not enough.”

Charlotte sobbed even harder. She had never felt so desolate in her life.

“What have I done to him! He didn’t want to marry me. He told me that he didn’t want anyone. He would have married one of the girls from Ormond if he’d wanted a wife. If I had never argued with him or over balanced on that terrace, this would never have happened. It’s entirely my fault and now I don’t even know if he’ll live to forgive my selfishness.” Her shoulders shook as she shed her tears.

Giles looked over her head at the doctor who returned his stare without expression. He pulled his cousin even closer.

“You have done nothing to reproach yourself with. I know that the incident at Lord Davenport’s ball was an accident. I never thought it was anything else, but you have to see that there was no other course of action to take...I couldn’t let you be ruined.” He looked back at Geoffrey’s inert body. The man breathed shallowly, each intake of air a wheezing struggle. “I’ll stay here with you tonight. If he wakes, he may be delusional or even violent. I’ll take the bedroom next door but you must call me if he wakes and is in any distress at all. I fear that addiction is quick to take hold with some of these drugs. I saw it all the time in the war. A couple of doses to kill pain was sometimes enough to set up a craving so deep that only one with the heart of a giant could resist its lure.”

Charlotte trembled again.

“If he wakes? Oh God! He has to, I can’t bear to think of it if he doesn’t.” She grabbed Giles’ lapels with frantic fingers as her tears streamed down her face. “I thought Anne would be with you. I’ve wanted to talk to her so much over the last few days, but as she’s not here, I have to tell you. I cannot hold all this in any longer...Giles, please don’t be angry with me. I know that Geoffrey’s not a lord or an earl, or even a sir, but I don’t care. I wouldn’t care if he was a chimney sweep or a King. I love him. I love him so much that if he dies I know I will die alongside him. I cannot live without him.”

Giles felt her body quaking in his arms. He crooked his finger beneath her chin and lifted it so that she looked into his dark blue eyes. He smiled tenderly down at her.

“I know that you do. I’ve known for a long time, Charlotte. Why do you think I sent you to London with him in the first place? It wasn’t just because of you needing an escort. I could have chosen any number of men to do that quite adequately. No, I wanted you both to have a chance to know one another, for Geoff to prove his worth to you and to himself. I wasn’t expecting what happened at Lord Davenport’s, but I wasn’t upset or annoyed. I felt that it just brought an inevitable outcome to fruition a little sooner than expected, though I confess that I had not foreseen this state of affairs. I honestly thought that Geoffrey would be thrilled to have you to himself.”

Charlotte shook her head as her mind reeled in shock at his revelation.

“I think that you made a mistake in sending him with us. You know that I never intended to marry. After all I went through with my father and brother I thought you understood my reasons why. But that is all irrelevant anyway now as the deed is already done and my love for him means nothing. It doesn’t change the fact that he has no interest in me. All that does matter is that he recovers. I don’t care if he never wants to see me again, but he has to live.” There was a fiery determination in her tone.

Giles nodded and motioned her towards the chair beside the bed.

“Come and sit with him. The doctor has done his work. His wounds are cleaned and bandaged and Coalport has placed a bowl of onions beneath the bed to help rid his body of any other bad humours. I know that your presence will comfort him regardless of whether he wanted to marry you or not. We will all do our best to help him recover and worry about your relationship afterwards.”

Charlotte sighed deeply as she sat and took hold of Geoffrey’s bandaged hand. A worried looking Coalport arrived soon after with blankets and a pillow. He made up a makeshift bed on the settle but Giles knew Charlotte would not use it that night. He wrapped the blanket about his cousin, said goodnight to Charlotte with a kiss on her forehead and made his way out of the room with the doctor walking beside him.

Geoffrey’s whole body screamed in pain and trembled with cold. He’d never felt so chilled in all his life. He remembered the feel of the icy, black water as it closed in over his head and shuddered even harder. Never had he thought to meet his end robbed of most of his possessions, and beaten black and blue before being thrown into the Thames at the dead of night with a sack of rocks tied to his feet. If he could stop his teeth chattering for long enough he would actually be furious at the indignity of it all.

He wasn’t sure when he’d realized that it was all a set-up. One of his own making, of course. He’d willingly gone to the inn in order to become so drunk that he couldn’t remember his own name. A name that would forever be hated by his new wife.

His wife!
God, how he loved those two words, but he had seen how the very thought of being married crushed her. She had said that she would become a dutiful wife. His guts churned at what she thought he wanted from her. He didn’t want her dutiful. He wanted her wild and free, with the wind blowing in her hair as she galloped across the sand on Lightning, his own senses rampant as he saw her tight buttocks encased in her brother’s old breeches.

He’d cursed himself for a fool when he’d realized his mistake at the inn. The onion scented blonde woman began pulling at his shirt and he had resisted, only to find that his hands wouldn’t co-operate as he attempted to fend her off. It was only when the other woman joined the first that he felt himself lucky. After discovering all the gold he had about his person, the women proceeded to attempt to take what he would never have willingly given. Fortunately for him the drugs they had used had taken effect so well that no parts of his body had worked at all.

The two whores called him all the names they could think of when nothing they tried would arouse him, but names could never hurt as much as the feelings of betrayal spearing his heart as they touched and abused his inert body. If Charlotte knew or ever found out, her disgust would probably kill him. It was only after they had done their worst and failed with him that they called the three burly men into the room.

With his senses still reeling, they had overcome him easily enough, beaten him and stolen anything of value. The drugs had taken such a hold that he could barely stand let alone fight his way out of the situation, and his last thought before blacking out was a hope that Charlotte would never find out about the two women. A day lying on the cold floor of the room had roused him enough to make a short stand against the men when they returned a second time. Geoffrey wondered what more they thought they could steal. Standing in a set of undergarments short of naked, they had already taken everything else he had, including his handmade boots.

He’d fought for his life, breaking the nose of one and feeling the ribs of another crack before someone had come up behind him and whacked him over the head with what felt like a ton weight, but was more probably a full wine bottle. Afterwards there wasn’t much to remember. Someone forcing him to drink more brandy, hands tying him, lifting him and then the cold rush of water as he sank deep into the river.

It was probably the swiftly moving tide that saved him. He had sunk like a rock, the sack of stones weighing him down so quickly that he thought it would all be over in seconds, but the rapidly moving water picked up his weight and dragged him in the current. The rough-sewn sack must have scraped along the bottom of the river and quickly worn a hole in the thin material. The rocks had slipped through the gap and set him free to float away on the tide.

Sometime later he recalled a boatman shouting at him and more hands turning him over, but by then the cold and his beaten body had taken its toll. He was too far gone to recognize the face that peered down at him and too cold to speak. Then strong arms were about him and a thick blanket placed over him, and now he was in a large bed with smell the faint scent of onions surrounding him again.

He couldn’t face the thought of that disgusting light-skirt touching him again. Through the pain in his hands and his head he thrashed and fought his bonds as she came nearer.

“Get yourself away from me, woman. Your attentions are not wanted.” He could hear the shake in his own voice and he cleared his throat as he attempted to sound more assertive. “Don’t touch me, I don’t want you!” he shouted as she came ever nearer.

Her cry didn’t scare him, but his body recoiled at the thought of her hands on him. He groaned painfully and turned away from her, but the bed dipped behind him and her cracked voice whispered in his ear.

“I’m only here to comfort you. I’ll do anything for you. Tell me what you want, what I can do for you.”

He ignored the ache in his ribs as his stomach rolled and his chest heaved. He’d never want anything from this harlot, not even her words of comfort. He wanted someone he could never have and who he would probably never see again. His heart lurched in his chest and suddenly stuttered, beating out a rapid, uneven rhythm as it fractured into a thousand pieces. Damp warmth touched his cheek. A salty droplet slipped into the corner of his mouth and he realized that it was his own tears.

He felt the hideous woman breathe over him, and for a confused moment, he smelled apple blossom and the spring tide.

Charlotte!
He reached out for the woman he loved more than anything in existence...but recoiled as the onions took over once more. The whore came nearer and he knew that the love of his life would never have him now.

“I won’t leave you...Tell me what you want?” The trollop asked again.

“
My wife
,” he thought to himself as the chill of darkness took him once again. “
I want my Charlotte
.”

He groaned as he turned on his side and she only narrowly missed his flung out arm as he shouted at her to get away from him. He’d been quiet for hours and for hours she had watched over him. Night had come and gone, returned once again and never once had she left his side.

Only a few hours earlier, the doctor had examined him again and pronounced him better than expected. His ribs looked bruised but not broken, as he had originally feared, however the drugs hadn’t yet left his system and the river water hadn’t helped his condition either. His temperature was up slightly and the doctor frowned in consternation at his patient as sweat beaded on Geoffrey’s brow.