The Vengeful Bridegroom (18 page)

Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand and pulled her down on the bed with him, slightly jarring Falstaff, who growled and moved to the other corner of the bed.

Leaning on his elbow, he looked down at her and said, “You mean you actually prayed I would live? I thought you might have felt well rid of me, your husband, and already on your way back to London.”

His words mocked her, and if he meant to tease, he drew tears instead.

She looked up at him. “I do not find your words very amusing.”

If someone could look contrite and surprised at the same time, it was Gabriel. Could he have realized how deeply he wounded her with his words?

She frowned and pushed him away, fighting him to leave the bed. “This cannot be good for your head.”

“Ah, I think it would be a perfect thing for my head and other parts that ache.” He had a certain glint in his eye. And if she shifted more in his direction, she would feel those aching parts to which he referred.

She thought he needed more time to recover. Until the surgeon gave his opinion Gabriel was infinitely better, she would allow those parts to ache and hope the pain would go away on its own accord.

“Don’t leave. Tell me more about your prayers.”

“What more is there to tell?”

Without looking at her, he stroked her arm. “Tell me how worried you were about me. I like hearing it.”

Such audacity.
Madelene had to chuckle. “There is nothing more to tell. I think my heart stopped beating until Mr. Longhorn informed us that both you and Matthew would survive. I don’t ever remember being so frightened before, and for both of you, except when my father had taken ill.”

“I like knowing you were worried about me. Maybe I should be hit on the head more often,” he mused with a smile.

“You should be careful for what you wish for. I may have to hit you on the head for all the aggravation you cause me. Now, no more frivolous talk,” she told him sternly.

He leaned farther over Madelene, his arm around her waist, until his lips almost touched hers.

She stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Wait.”

He blinked, obviously surprised. “Wait for what?”

“Did you marry me for the wager?”

“What? The wager? Where did this come from? How you fritter from one subject to another I can scarcely fathom. We can talk later. How about—”

“I need to know. Did you marry me for the bet?” He couldn’t possibly know why she asked, and she would tell him someday. Right now, she only wanted his answer.

He sighed and rolled onto his back. “No.”

“No? But surely you needed the funds?”

“No.”

Astonished, Madelene sat up and turned to look at her husband. “You didn’t need the money?” She couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice.

When Gabriel turned his head to look at her, all amusement had left his eyes. “Madelene, I planned to win the bet, one way or the other. When I heard your brother was to marry you to that fop Brelford, I knew I had to put a stop to it. I concluded I could have you as my wife and win the money on top of it.”

“Hmmm.” She laid back on the bed. “I’ll have to think on this more.”

“Yes, you do that. Later. At the moment, I have something else in mind.”

A knock on the door disturbed their conversation.

It was Fanny. “Ma’am, your brother is asking for you.”

“Oh! Fanny, tell my brother I’ll be there directly. Thank you.”

This time, Madelene leaned over her husband to kiss him softly. “We shall continue this conversation. I want to learn more about why you desired me for a wife.”

She popped off the bed and hurried out the door to change before he could deter her with his winsome ways.

Madelene found her brother lying on his side, his eyes half open, watching her enter the room. She swept over to his bedside and sat in a chair next to his bed. “Matthew, how are you feeling this morning?”

Matthew closed his eyes and shook his head. “Mad, it hurts to breathe. When is the surgeon returning?”

Fanny, standing near the doorway, answered him. “Sir Colgate, I heard the doctor tell Mrs. Lavishtock he would be here before noon.”

“I wish it would be sooner,” he said to no one in particular.

Madelene took his hand. “Can you try to sleep? It might help, and you won’t feel the pain.”

Jerking his finger in Fanny’s direction, he demanded, “You, girl, get me something to drink. Whisky, brandy, whatever is handy.”

Fanny, wide-eyed, looked at Madelene for direction.

In consternation, Madelene bit her lip, then nodded. “Fanny, please check with Mrs. Lavishtock and bring some spirits to my brother.”

The maid quickly curtsied and fled the room.

Madelene sat quietly by her brother’s bed, and before Fanny could return with any liquor, she heard his snoring.

She leaned her head against the wall. Although relieved Matthew was safe, she worried for how long. Did the count still pose a threat to her brother? How could she help him? Of course, there was no question but that he continue here at Westcott Close for rehabilitation.

Then there was her own safety to worry over. Someone had deliberately pushed her into the lake. Reflecting on her short stay at Westcott Close, she thought she remembered the surgeon saying something about poison when she had fallen so ill.

“Is he dead?”

Madelene looked up to see Alec in her usual garb in the doorway. “No, he is not. The surgeon has told us his recovery will take some time, but he is not going to die.” She stood and walked out the door, closing it behind her. “Where were you last night when all this happened?”

The young woman took a step back in the hallway, looking both ways, as if trying to decide how to answer or which way to go. “I went to bed early and didn’t learn what happened until this morning when Mrs. Lavishtock told me. I’m glad Mr. Westcott was not hurt.” If Madelene didn’t know better, she’d think her words had an almost defensive tone to them, but she had no idea what it meant.

Alec turned and fled in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Madelene staring after her, very puzzled.
I bet that girl knows something. And I plan to discover what it is.

Days passed as both patients continued their healing. Gabriel mended much faster than Matthew, considering his injuries were not of such a severe nature. Mr. Bush visited nearly every day to both Gabriel and Madelene’s delight, for she was becoming increasingly fond of their neighbor.

Madelene and the rest of the staff spent many hours in Matthew’s room, changing his bandages and keeping him entertained. He even had Hazelby play whist with him.

Another change in the household was Madelene and Gabriel sleeping apart for those days. He couldn’t convince her that his head didn’t pain him, and it would heal much faster with her next to him in his bed. Concerned she might disturb him while he slept, she disagreed, knowing her husband indeed did not have sleep on his mind. She told him she thought it best if he had the bed to himself a little longer.

Madelene also felt rather strange sharing a bed with a man, and her brother lying wounded on the lower floor. To be sure, her brother expected her to share a bed with her husband, but the notion still rested uneasily with her.

And what about their future together? Gabriel had never spoken any affection for her. If she remained here as his wife, Madelene would have to give up her dream of returning to London and designing fashions for the
haut ton.
Not being dependent on any man for her livelihood. But they couldn’t divorce, and they couldn’t get an annulment. The only solution Madelene could imagine was remaining married but she living in London, and Gabriel living here at Westcott Close.

She’d need to have a talk with her husband about their future, and soon. Madelene wanted everything settled.

Gabriel recovered but spent much of the time reviewing his accounts with his steward, who oversaw holdings for him in Shropshire as well as in London. With all the happenings lately, he informed Madelene he had been neglecting his financial matters.

After supper, a week after that dreadful night, Madelene and Gabriel went to see Matthew and hear from the patient himself how his progress fared. Gabriel had not seen Matthew since the night he brought him home.

They sat in chairs at the end of Matthew’s bed as Matthew slouched in bed with a disagreeable look on his face. Smiling brightly, Madelene told her brother, “Mr. Longhorn is quite pleased with your recovery. However, he does think it will take a month or so before you’ll be well enough to endure the journey back to London.”

Gabriel added, “Matthew, consider our home, your home. There is no hurry to leave. We simply want you to be strong enough for whenever you’re ready to depart.”

Madelene turned her attention to Gabriel with a fond smile. How considerate of her husband to make such an offer, after all that had passed between her brother and him.

“I can’t wait to leave here. I’d like to be on a coach tomorrow.” Matthew made no apology for being aggravated and impatient.

“Matthew, please.” She walked over to his bedside. “Say no more. We can’t have you unwell and unfit to travel. You may further exacerbate your wound.”

His mouth remained in a thin line. “I find it rather difficult to remain in a home where the master of the house has grievously injured his guest.”

Madelene backed away from her brother, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Matthew, I’m sure the medicine the surgeon gave you must give you thoughts you would otherwise not entertain.”

Her brother stared unrelenting at her. “Why don’t you ask your husband why he didn’t kill me the other night?”

Madelene shook her head, trying to understand the enormity of his words. How could he be saying such things? Surely, he couldn’t believe Gabriel had—no, it wouldn’t bear thinking about it.

Before Madelene could begin to defend him, Gabriel interjected, already having left his chair to approach Matthew and his suspicions. “I don’t care for your brand of humor. For surely, that is what this must be. I do not know who did you harm the other night, but it certainly was not me. I found you and brought you home. If I wanted you dead, I would have left you where you lay.” His voice grew colder with each word.

Both men warred silently with each other as Madelene stared helplessly. Who should she believe?

Matthew responded defiantly, “Perhaps you had a change of heart and decided I held some purpose after all. Perhaps you wanted to hurt my sister with my death on your hands. Any number of reasons will do.”

“Matthew, stop. You don’t know what you’re saying. Gabriel couldn’t, he simply couldn’t.” Tears clawed into her throat and into her voice, until she could no longer stand the sight of her accusing brother and her silent husband.

She needed to find solace, a sanctuary. Madelene ran outside and down the terraces until she found the little pond gracing the lawn. A flat stone provided a seat where she could rest and wrap her arms around her legs. She refused to shed any more tears for her brother or her husband and the predicament in which she found herself. But her head did ache. Did she have to choose between them? One of them lied, but who?

If Matthew lied about who tried to kill him, why? What could his motive be? Or was it possible Gabriel could have tried to finish what he started over a year ago on the dueling field?

“Madelene.” She heard the voice call softly.

She looked up to find Gabriel standing on a rise near her, then bowed her head, afraid he might notice the hesitation in her eyes.

A few minutes passed before Gabriel descended the last few steps until he could join Madelene on the large boulder overlooking the pond. He sat down and took her hand in his. Madelene felt his gentle touch under her chin, lifting her head to gaze at him. In his warm brown gaze, she saw a man known for his honest dealings and sincerity, and something more.

“I would hope you believe me when I say I could never hurt your brother. Not now.”

She wanted to believe him. The earnest look he gave her almost broke whatever part of a heart she still possessed. “I don’t understand, why would Matthew lie?” she asked him miserably.

He could only shrug. “I cannot say I understand your brother’s motives.”

“But you were hit on the head. Perhaps you did still have the dagger and maybe you did stab him, but didn’t mean to.” She knew she grasped at the strings of a wildly dancing balloon of fancy.

He gave her a peculiar look. “Do you believe me capable of injuring another when I am unconscious?”

She shook her head and looked away. “Truly not one of my more rational thoughts.”

Gabriel took her hands within his own. “Madelene, believe me. Hold on to me. If you give me the chance, I’ll find out if it was the count or another who wanted your brother dead.”

Madelene closed her eyes, shuttering at the word “dead.”

Before she could respond, they heard a voice calling.

“Mr. Westcott! Mr. Westcott! There’s someone here, you must come!”

They both glanced up in time to watch Mrs. Lavishtock appear over one of the stoned terraces. Madelene frowned, completely drained of all emotions save curiosity.

She turned to Gabriel. “What could Mrs. Lavishtock have on her mind that she must come and not send a footman to retrieve us?”

He easily rose and drew her up with him. “I think we shall discover presently.”

When Gabriel and Madelene arrived back at the house, they found many of the servants gathered in the hall, watching a foreign woman with a babe in her arms chattering in Italian to Alec. Nearby, a strange man hopped about, doing his best to avoid Falstaff’s sharp teeth. The little dog seemed determined to take a bite out of the stranger’s ankle.

Gabriel worked his way through the group gathered to hear the conversation. Although he knew a smattering of Italian, he would need Alec to translate.

The realization suddenly dawned on him.

The baby! Lucinda and Matthew’s baby.

How could he have forgotten the date? Had it already been eight months since his birth? George Matthew Westcott. In preparation for his plans to marry Madelene and all the events which followed, he had forgotten the tenth of June was the agreed date for little George’s Italian nanny to bring him to Westcott Close.

Before Gabriel had left Italy, he arranged for Donna Bella Vincenzio and her brother, Carlos, to bring Lucinda’s son to Westcott Close, since Gabriel planned to raise George as his own. He neglected to realize the time he needed to prepare Madelene for this addition to their household.

Although concerned about his wife’s reaction, first he had to see to the baby. He held up his hand to stop the conversation between the two women. “Alec, let’s move this discussion to the front parlor,” he directed.

Gabriel dismissed all the servants save Mrs. Lavishtock and Windthorp. The two foreigners, Madelene, Alec, the housekeeper, and the valet joined him in the sea green–draped room.

Even with all the loud chatter, the baby continued to sleep swaddled in his basket at Donna Bella’s feet while she sat on one of the matching green settees. He remembered the Italian woman, a little slip of a woman with a plain sad face and small black eyes. Her gray color already outshone her original deep black hair.

Donna Bella’s brother, seated next to her, was more animated, with a big smile and even bigger laughter, although his frown indicated he understood little, if any, English.

Alec sat at the end of the settee, across from Gabriel and Madelene. “Donna Bella says she brought the baby as promised and the baby is well. She would even like to stay on and care for the baby since she has become quite taken with him. Her brother would remain here for a time before returning to Italy. They would like you to find work for him here.”

With his wife at his side, remaining speechless, Gabriel nodded. “Tell Carlos we will find a place for him.” He looked at Donna Bella but spoke to Alec. “Alec, tell Donna Bella I am pleased with the care she has taken of the baby.”

Alec and Donna Bella and Carlos all exchanged words, then brother and sister smiled brightly at Gabriel and Madelene.

“Alec, do they, either of them, understand or speak any English?”

Alec frowned and turned to her compatriots again. Another conversation ensued, then the young woman looked at Gabriel and shook her head. “Very little.”

He brushed his hands through his hair before he said to Alec, “Will you consider staying longer, until everyone is more comfortable?”

Alec shrugged. “
Sì,
if you request this of me.”

He nodded and told her, “I think that would be best.” In surprise, he watched Madelene leave his side to walk over to Donna Bella and kneel to look at the sleeping baby.

“May I hold him?” she asked Donna Bella softly, breaking the silence. To illustrate her request, she folded her hands into a cradle position and rocked them back and forth.

When the older woman smiled at Madelene and nodded, Madelene carefully picked the baby out of the basket and placed him against her chest, folding his blankets around him. She stood in the middle of the room and gently swayed with the baby, leaning her head against the child’s.

She flabbergasted Gabriel. Why would she want to hold a stranger’s baby, not her own? Why hadn’t she asked any questions or at least shot accusing and angry glances at him?

However, she did nothing but give all her attention to the infant. His wife seemed perfectly content to coo and watch the baby’s face, touching his cheek with the back of her finger. It shouldn’t possibly be this easy. He sighed and relaxed inwardly. Perhaps Madelene could save the situation.

The baby’s sudden crying interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh! Oh dear!” Madelene looked helplessly to Gabriel, then to Mrs. Lavishtock. She tried jiggling him, but he wouldn’t stop, his cries grew louder and louder.

Mrs. Lavishtock hefted herself out of her chair. “I’ve raised my sister’s children. I know what needs to be done. Let me have him.” Quick as a blink, Mrs. Lavishtock plucked little George from Madelene’s arms and ambled out the door. “It’s either one end or t’ other!” she shouted over her shoulder.

When Gabriel jumped to his feet, everyone else rose as well, assuming the discussion at an end.

Madelene walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm, her expression unreadable. “I need to speak with Mrs. Lavishtock about the arrangements for the new houseguests.” Before she left, she went to the brother and sister and said quietly to them, “
Grazie,
Donna Bella and Carlos, for bringing the baby to us,” then gracefully departed the room.

Gabriel continued to stare after his wife. The woman was a complete puzzlement to him. He silently thanked fate or whatever deities had handed him a compassionate and understanding wife.

He gestured to the door. “Come, let’s go to my study, where we’ll discuss what needs to done.”

Alec jabbered in apparent translation to the couple who nodded over and over, then followed Gabriel out the parlor door.

“I hear we have a new member in the household. How does the little brat fare?” Matthew reclined on his bed, holding his right side.

On the opposite side of the room, Gabriel, with his fists resting on the chair’s armrails, watched his brother-in-law, his eyes narrowed. Surely Matthew must have wondered what Gabriel could possibly want with him, other than to learn how soon he would be taking his leave of them. How soon could he travel where Madelene would not worry about him? Probably never, he thought to himself grimly.

Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Please refer to the baby as George or not at all.”

Matthew shrugged his shoulders. “In the hospitality of your home, I can honor that request.”

Inwardly, Gabriel winced hearing Matthew actually use the word “honor,” since Madelene’s brother appeared to possess so little of it himself. He was surprised Matthew actually understood the meaning.

“Pray tell me why you are visiting my sickbed, because the time is ripe for my afternoon nap.” Matthew yawned, either weary from Gabriel’s presence or his own discomfort.

Gabriel perused his subject, wanting Matthew to spin in the wind, imagining what his sister’s husband could possibly want with him. “While I am extremely interested in your estimation of when you might be departing our home, I do have a question only you can answer.” Gabriel saw Matthew stiffen, almost as if he knew what would be asked of him.