Upon Your Return (28 page)

Lina went to much trouble to have announcements sent to all the prominent members of society regarding their engagement and soon, there were many calls to the house from people she had met back when Gabe was a small thing within her womb. She and Lina entertained ladies during the mid-morning. And then, when Fara was just about to go mad with their dull gossip, Grant saved her and they usually went for a drive or a walk in the local park. They talked constantly about everything that came to mind. They attended parties or masquerades and often went to operas when they were bored with staying at the house. Now that they were a true couple, she didn't feel like they had to hide their relationship. And as promised, Grant kept his distance as far as their physical associations were concerned. He did not refrain from showing her his need of her as she did in turn, but he respected her wishes and did not push her about making love.

One day, Fara and Grant were at the park walking about, and she felt confused by something. It was odd. Even though they were betrothed to one another, she knew the rules of an engagement. Even when a couple was supposed to be married, it was custom for there to be some kind of chaperone around and there would rarely be a moment to be alone. Diversely, her aunt allowed them loads of privacy and it seemed that she trusted that Grant would do the right thing when he was with her. Perhaps Lina trusted them both enough and assumed there would be nothing less than propriety wherever they went. Her aunt did not have much to worry about there, but surely other people wondered. Oh, well. Usually, there was a reason for everything her aunt did.

Since they were alone, she decided to ask him the question that had been bothering her since his return. “You said you were in a prison all those years...”

His eyes flashed and his jaw set into an intense kind of rage she'd never seen. Fara began to wander if she was making a mistake with her curiosity. Was he angry with her or did the memories create that emotion? “
Oui
, I did say that.”

She frowned. “Will you tell me about it?”

He grunted. “There isn't much to tell. I was in prison. It is a punishment for no soft-willed creature.”

“What are you saying?”

He grasped her arm. “You want to know? It was a living hell, Fara, and you would not have survived a day there!”

She searched his face, swallowing hard. Her heart raced beneath her breast, not from his dangerous grasp but the things she could imagine he'd been through, and the things that made him act in that manner. She should not have pushed him. “I'm sorry,” she replied, “but I am much stronger than you think. I was interrogated after you left.”

“I'm sorry. I never meant for that to happen.” Grant looked at her, shaking his head as if waking from a bad dream. He then released her arm as if he'd finally realized what he'd done. “You have a rare courage...one I've not witnessed in other ladies. You have survived without me for this long. Perhaps you would have survived in a prison. But, you would have endured many evils.”

“Such as?”

“Beatings, other acts of cruelty and torture. In a prison, they try to break you until you lose your will. For a lady, it could be much worse. Rape would be common, I imagine. In the end, you would only have your faith or perhaps the thought of a person you once knew to keep you going...”

His voice was soft, but his words stung, and she felt him reach out and grab her hand. “I am sorry, Grant. I did not mean--”

“Shh...” He pulled her to him, his lips grazing her temple. “Oh, love. I would not wish that hell on anyone. But, it
was
you, Fara. I resisted. I fought because I knew you were here, protected and loved. I felt it.”

Terrors in the night...darkness, rodents, scars...she felt that pain like an arrow through the heart. But, Grant had survived it. Fara, not wanting to hear anymore, raised on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. She heard his intake of breath, but did not pull away.

“Fara,” he murmured against her lips. “
Ma chére
...” Then when she parted her lips, his hold tightened on her and his tongue met hers, driving them both to insanity.

* * * *

Several weeks later, they decided to spend the day at the cove. Grant had arranged with the cook for a picnic fit for two and she had followed through. Fara closed her eyes, shaking her hair as the sun warmed her face. She heard a soft curse and her eyes flew open as she frowned at him, wondering what he was about. He had set the dishes out on the blanket that had been spread on the sand; however, he seemed distracted.

His gaze was filled with a kind of torment. “You are a good mother to Gabriel. If I had known about him, I would not have left.”

Her eyes filmed with unshed tears. “Regardless of the fact that the authorities were looking for you?”

He frowned. “I would have taken you with me then.”

She could not be sure if he meant he would have taken her because of Gabriel only or to protect them both. She did not want to be selfish for Gabe was her world and without him, she never would have known the beauty of life or what it was like looking at the world through his eyes. But, that might be the only reason Grant still remained in her presence. For his son, his blood. She wanted to believe there was more for him here, but she had learned to protect herself from such romantic notions.

A thought gripped her suddenly. What if Grant planned to take Gabe from here? Surely he wouldn't dream of removing the only evidence there was of the love they'd shared in the past. He would never think of taking a child from his mother. Would he? No, Grant wouldn't do that, she chided herself.

He leaned toward her as they sat on the blanket. “I mean that. I would have brought you with me if I'd known.”

She looked away. “To be burdened for the rest of your days, running from your past while tied to a woman who happened to carry your son.”

“It would not have been the burden you speak of now. Somehow I would have convinced you to marry me. No one would think to question us from then on.”

She shook her head. “What's done is done, Grant. We can't go back and change it. All that matters is that you're here now to see Gabe. You're his father. You have that right.”

“
Oui
, but what of your rights? Shouldn't you have had a choice about how to raise your son? You should've been given a choice in your life after he was born.”

“Grant, I made that choice when I let you go. I made it even when everyone expected me to find a suitor and I feared I could not bear the thought of replacing you, of having to fabricate some story to Gabriel about how he was conceived. It would not be fair to tell him a stranger was his father. Besides, my aunt was very patient. She understood my reasons for wanting to remain unmarried.”

He nodded. “I should feel glad that you did then.”

“You don't?”

“Of course. I…” he trailed as if he was at a loss for words. “I know I was angry at first, thinking you had betrayed what we had. But, it was selfish of me.”

“Grant…” She reached out to touch his cheek. “I heard what you said that night. But, I don't think you meant it really. I think even knowing you had to leave, you wanted to have some claim on me still. Is that not true?”

“I always wanted to think I was your one and only, I suppose. That you would wait.”

“And I did. Is that such a bad thing?”

“No. I just regret leaving you without the things you needed.”

“What you couldn't provide Lina did. Somehow despite everything, she loved me. And Gabe too. I was lucky to have her there to support whatever decision I made. My uncle would never have done that.”

“I know.”

She knew by his resigned expression that he did not wish to talk about it more, but she couldn't help but feel a small quiver of pity for the torment she could still see in his eyes.

* * * *

Grant took Fara and Gabe into town less than a week after their picnic at the cove. She wanted to go by the milliner's shop to pick up a gown and some clothes she'd had made for their son. And it wouldn't be too much trouble to go by the general store for a toy. Whilst they were in town, they stopped by a coffeehouse for lunch. After satisfying their hunger, they were leaving the restaurant when Gabe tried to get his mother's attention.

“
Monsieur
Hill is a captain,
Maman
,” he said excitedly, tugging at her arm.

“
Oui
, Gabe…I know.” She looked up at Grant. “He's suddenly developed the inclination to run a ship of his own.”

He smiled and knelt to the boy's level. “Perhaps one day you would like to run aboard
La Voyageur
. You could meet my crew and I would show you what a captain really does.”

“
Oui, Capitaine
,” he exclaimed on a breath.

“
Bon
,” Grant agreed and rose to his full height. He took Gabriel's hand as they crossed the street together and headed toward the waiting carriage. “Pierre, I believe we would like to go shopping,” he ordered easily as he helped the boy inside. “The milliner's shop. Gabe's mother has a hankering for a hat, I think.” He turned to Fara, who had slowed in her steps considerably. “What is it, love?”

She fought her tears, shaking her head. “You are good with him…”

“I should be, don't you think? He is, after all, our son.” He sighed. “Never fear, Fara. I would not dream of replacing his mother. Think how much he still needs you…very much, I believe.”

She frowned. “I wasn't afraid.”

“Were you not? I understand you more than you think.”

She stepped closer. “If you believe for one minute that I could ever be jealous of you, of a man, I advise you to think again,
Capitaine
Hill. There is no danger here. I would ask that you not act as escort if you plan to treat me so…like a mere female.”

His eyes darkened. “Shall I instead treat you as my companion then, love? It would not take long for society to forget our past relationship.”

“They never forgot. I was always the one to blame for it, the whore to a runaway captain, to a traitor!” She gasped, covering her mouth and choking on her own tears.

He reached to drag her close. “I am sorry, my love. That was not something I intended.”

“
Maman
?”

Gabriel peered out of the carriage. His eyes were focused and with a frown on his youthful features, he watched as she wiped at her sudden tears. She hadn't meant for him to witness her distress. The boy has become too intelligent, she thought. “Gabriel, it is all right now.
Monsieur
Hill will accompany us to the shop. Do you understand?”

“
Oui, Maman
,” he replied, but his tone held disapproval. He sat back against the seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Fara glanced up at Grant. “Must we continue to disagree? If so, we should find a more secluded place to do such things.”

He shook his head. “Ah, ever the socialite you are, my love. Yet you are quite right. Another place would be better, though I can think of far pleasurable activities than arguments in that context.”

She flushed beneath his captivating gaze. “Grant, please…”

“Come, love. Let us get on with this trip before I lose my self-control.” He grasped her waist and lifted her into the carriage with ease and followed after her.

After dinner that night, Francoise took Gabriel, but Fara followed close behind as was her custom. Though she trusted the servants would do nearly anything for her son, she was a dutiful mother and the bond she had with him would never change. Once Francoise had him changed into a sleep shirt and he was nestled under the covers, she took her leave. Fara sat down on the side of the boy's bed and pushed his reddish locks from his forehead. She then placed a kiss there and he smiled back at her.

“You said papa was a captain,
Maman
.”

“
Oui
, my love, I did say that.” She smiled at the boy. He had a good memory. It had been two months since Grant had returned.

“We know one…
Capitaine
Hill,
Maman
.”

She nodded, but sensed he meant to say more. “What about him, Gabriel?”

He frowned. “Is he my papa?”

He was getting entirely too intelligent for his own good. It made her both proud and afraid for he was becoming more like his father every day. What could she tell him? Inevitably, only the truth would suffice because she loved him and it was only fair for him to have that hope. “Would that bother you to know that
Capitaine
Hill was your father?”

“No,
Maman
. He does not seem bad to me…”

“No, not bad at all, my love.”

“Then, is he? My papa?”

She nodded. “Yes,
mon
chéri
.”

He reached out with his small arms and she hugged him in return. “I am glad,
Maman
.”