by Jane Charles
She was of a more mature age, knew her own mind, and was confident. These were attributes a gentleman such as himself preferred in a wife. No coddling would be necessary with Claudia, and she wouldn’t come to him with each and every small decision that needed to be made.
Instead, they’d live as man and wife, enjoying their time in each other’s company without the mundane or worries to separate them, and each night they’d retire to his chamber where she’d sleep in his arms after a thorough loving, then begin anew the following day.
She was perfect for him, and he was perfect for her. So why in blazes didn’t she wish to marry him? “You’re planning the wedding?” he questioned Wesley as the servant’s words sank in. What didn’t Wesley do in this household?
“Yes. I thought Christmas would be lovely.”
“It’s a little longer than I’d prefer to wait,” Gabe mused as the idea of having Miss Morris to himself become more real by the moment.
“It’s ten days.” Kazakov chuckled.
Gabe blinked at him. “That’s not enough time to call the banns. I’ll need a special license.”
“It’s already been requested,” Atwood informed him.
Gabe turned to stare at the viscount. “That was rather presumptuous of you.”
“You were under the misguided notion that we’d let you leave without your promise?”
They stared one another down. Gabe still didn’t understand why Atwood would take on the role of protector and guardian for Miss Morris, but it mattered little. As long as the job got done. After a moment, Gabe gave a quick nod. “Thank you. Let me know when it arrives.” Then he drained the contents of his glass and strode for the door. “Not marry me. We shall see about that!”
“You’ve not asked about last night and the delivery?” Kazakov said before Gabe could exit the room.
He stopped and turned, pinning the man with a look. Of course Severen knew what Kazakov meant but not Atwood or this Wesley servant. Did he not understand the importance of secrecy, especially when it involved smuggling and French spies? Gabe thought the man would have known better.
“Atwood is aware of your mission,” Severen finally said. “He will be an asset if necessary.”
Gabe had an entire house of servants to act as those assets, they did not need an English lord who rarely left his estate and didn’t go out in the daylight. He’d be more of a hindrance than beneficial.
Gabe looked at Wesley, and his gut tightened. If one wanted rumors to be spread, the first person who needed to be told was a servant. By the end of the day, the entire bloody village would probably know.
“I can assure you, I do not speak out of turn,” Wesley informed him as if reading his mind. “And, you might need me.”
The servant made cloaks and planned weddings. Gabe seriously doubted Wesley could do more than hold his suitcoat if they were forced to fight.
“Wesley has been by my side for years,” Atwood said. “I wouldn’t discount either of us.”
“I suppose I don’t exactly have a choice, now do I?” He’d need to have a word with Severen and Kazakov. Both of them should have known better than to bring anyone else into this.
Kazakov set his glass on a table. “We should visit the cave so you can view it yourself and plan.”
“I was going to speak with Miss Morris.” Did they already forget the reason he was called here?
“She is teaching,” Wesley reminded him. “And would not appreciate the interruption.”
One day, when he actually had servants, Gabe was going to make sure they knew their place because Wesley behaved more as a guest or peer of the realm instead of the servant he was.
“Very well,” Gabe finally sighed. “To the cave.” He glanced around the room. “You should all come along, since there apparently are no secrets here.”
Mrs. Atwood was coming down the stairs as they stepped into the foyer.
“Wesley,” she called. “I’ve invited Miss Morris and the older girls to visit tomorrow. They’ll be skating on the pond if it’s frozen enough.”
“Very good, Lady Atwood. I’ll see to the arrangement of blades, chocolate, and biscuits.”
“Thank you,” she smiled up at him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Claudia slept later than she’d planned but escaped Atwood Manor before Gabe arrived, thank goodness. What was Atwood thinking to force either Gabe or herself to marry? It was a simple mark upon her neck, which she should have tried harder to keep covered, but it didn’t mean she was ruined either. Kisses. That was all. It wasn’t as though she’d been seduced.
Hopefully, Gabe would be able to reason with him better than she had done, because Atwood had not budged from his position when she finally retired last evening. Further, Tess was of no assistance. She’d talked to her friend privately, and despite their long friendship, she agreed that Atwood was correct and that she needed to marry Gabe post-haste.
However, Claudia barely knew him, and she couldn’t make such a permanent decision in so short a time. This was the rest of her life. What if they didn’t get along? Though, his kisses were beyond anything she’d ever imagined. But heated and enjoyable kisses did not necessarily a good marriage make.
Besides, there was his reputation to consider. She knew much of it was fabricated, but there was always truth layered in the lies. She couldn’t compete with the many women in his past and possibly his future. Beauties with standing amongst Society, as well as fallen doves, though equally as beautiful. One brought riches and connections, the other brought talents she couldn’t begin to imagine. She was a school teacher with no worldly experience. He’d tire of her within a month of marriage and then they’d both be doomed.
Her parents’ marriage had been arranged, and even though they got on well enough, they’d rarely spent time together. That was why only Mother had been taken to the guillotine, because Father, as usual, was somewhere else. She saw a life with Gabe no differently. He worked for the Home Office and would be sent on missions often, and probably at the most inopportune times, leaving her home and very much alone. They’d only see each other rarely, and she’d never know where he was because he’d not be allowed to tell her.
What if he was required to seduce a woman for her secrets? She’d read enough novels to know it was quiet possible, and her life would be spent alone in her bed wondering who else her husband was kissing and if he enjoyed it more than kissing his own wife.
No. She could not live a life like that, and even if Atwood convinced Gabe that he must marry her, Claudia intended to stand strong and refuse his offer. It was the only choice she had.
“Miss Morris,” Eliza cried as she walked down the drive. “You’re alive!”
All three girls, Eliza, Rosemary, and Sophia, ran toward her.
Blast! She’d completely forgotten about last night because of Atwood’s dictate and hadn’t prepared herself to see these three again.
“Of course I’m alive,” she finally said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We saw him sacrifice you last night,” Rosemary blurted out.
Claudia laughed. “Who sacrificed me?”
“Westbrook!” Eliza cried. “At the back of his estate. His coven.”
They had done well if these three were still upset about what they’d seen. As they walked to the school, Claudia continued to laugh as all three of them described each and every thing they’d seen.
“I don’t know what you’ve been reading, but it’s somehow influenced your dreams or imagination, because I can assure you, I was not sacrificed last night. Simply ask Lord and Lady Atwood because I was with them all evening.”
“We know what we saw.” Eliza stamped her foot as she grew agitated.
“I’m sure you believe it,” Claudia returned calmly. “But, if I was sacrificed, would I be standing before you?”
The girls shared a look, and Claudia could almost see the inner workings of their minds as they tried to puzzle out what they’d seen and h
ow she could be whole and alive.
“There’s an explanation, and I’ll figure it out,” Eliza said with determination.
“Well, when you do, be sure and let me know,” Claudia humored them and entered the school. “Classes, girls,” she called back and smiled as she made her way upstairs to prepare for the day.
Chapter 11
…and it will be found that they all agree, that there are wizards and sorcerers who by the power of the devil can produce real and extraordinary effects, and these effects are not imaginary, and God permits this to be.
~ Malleus Maleficarum by Heinrich Kramer and James Sprenger
Gabe didn’t wait for Claudia to put a light in the window of the belvedere but went there as soon as it was dark enough not to be seen. The day had been long enough, and he was anxious for her answer. Of course, he hadn’t even asked the question yet, but it had been constantly in the back of his mind. Even while he toured the cave and moved the crates around to best block and hide his men. Marseau would arrive in two nights. Word had been received while Gabe was at Creighton Manor, and now everything was in place.
Now, all he had to do was wait—the worst part of the mission. He liked the planning and enjoyed the action.He hated cooling his heels in between.
At least he had Claudia as a distraction.
Except, she was more than that.
She was to be his wife.
Gabe’s stomach tightened. He’d considered marriage, of course, as recently as the other evening, but that was a consideration for the future that had suddenly become a pending date before the vicar in less than a fortnight.
Bloody hell, matters were progressing much quicker than he anticipated, but was there really any reason to wait? It was going to happen whether it was this Christmas or before next. Atwood would see to that, and the sooner the better.
Why wouldn’t she want to marry him? What was so disagreeable about him that made her so against the idea? It was soon, of that he was aware, but they said she was adamant about not marrying him. Had he misread their mutual attraction? Or, was she simply not ready?
Was he ready? How would Olivia and Victoria feel? They seemed to like Claudia well enough, but she was a teacher, which was far different than a sister-in-law, and she would be the one helping plan their coming out. What if they simply tolerated her because of the schoo, but didn’t wish for her to be a relation?
That could be difficult. Perhaps he should discuss it with his sisters before Claudia, but he couldn’t exactly call on them now. It was evening. Supper had been concluded, and they should be readying themselves for bed.
Blast! Why hadn’t he thought this through?
Gabe shook his head. He hadn’t really thought through much of anything where Miss Morris was concerned after first meeting her. Which should be a sign in itself that they belonged together. Once she was his, then he’d be able to focus and concentrate better. At least he hoped that would be the case.
He tried the door to the belvedere when he arrived, but it was locked.
Instead of cooling his heels in the manor, he’d now be forced to do so here.
“Gabe?” Claudia stepped from the shadows. She studied him, her eyebrows drawn together as if she were concerned.
“I needed to speak with you.”
All she did was nod and then unlock the door. She didn’t use a light. It wasn’t necessary as it was a cloudless night, and the moon was still nearly full. She walked directly through the belvedere and into the back room where she lit a lamp. “Is something wrong?”
“Will you marry me?” he blurted out. That was not how he had intended to ask, but he rarely thought where Claudia was concerned, which he’d already established.
She blinked and stepped back. “Did Atwood put you up to this?”
“Yes. No.” Gabe removed his beaver hat and pushed his hair back. “Not in the way you may believe.”
Her lips firmed. “Atwood is not my father, brother, or guardian and has no say in what I will or won’t do.”
“He’s only concerned for your honor.” The thought made Gabe gulp. Dishonor led to morning appointments at dawn involving pistols or rapiers. He’d participated in enough of the staged ones to build his reputation and had no need to attend a real one, especially if he was seen as the wrongdoer. “It doesn’t matter what Atwood, Kazakov, Severn, or Wesley demand, it is what I want.”
Her eyes grew wide. “All four of them? What did they do? Corner you in a room and demand you do the right thing because you left a little mark on my neck?” she yelled.
A livid Claudia was not what he anticipated, and Gabe rushed to explain. “As I said, it doesn’t matter what they wish, it is what I want.”
This time she narrowed her eyes on him, crossed her arms over her chest, and began tapping her foot. “I don’t believe you.”
Gabe resisted the urge to pull at his cravat. “I’d already been thinking about the possibility for a few days.”
“I’m sure you have.” Her words dripped with skepticism.
“Yes, I have,” he argued. “Since the very first night I met you here.”
Her jaw dropped as she raised her eyebrows. Good! He’d shocked her. She may not know as much as she thought she did.
“How could you imagine I would not? You are a lovely woman, Claudia. Beautiful and desirable.”
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink at his words.
“And, I find, I am in need of a wife.”
As far as romantic, that probably wasn’t the best way to state his case. Bloody hell. He was a gentleman of action not words, and if she required poetry and such then this betrothal would end before it began.
Action. That’s it.
Gabe strode closer and pulled her against him.
Claudia looked up, remained still in his arms, and waited.
“You are not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
“I find students learn best from their mistakes.”
Was it a mistake to grab her to him? He wasn’t rough, just determined. “How am I doing?”
“You need to work a little harder. Perhaps study more of the subject at hand.”
“You or how to woo a bride?”
“Both, because right now you are very close to a failing mark.”
Gabe grinned. “Ah, so I haven’t failed yet.” With that, he kissed her.
She didn’t pull away but allowed him to mold his mouth against hers. She then granted access so that he could deepen the kiss. She also softened in his arms. The stiffness went out of her spine as it developed somewhere more personal on himself. As Claudia pressed herself against him, she fingered his hair, holding him close as Gable skimmed her body, wishing he could do more than stand in this room and kiss her. If he did allow passion to rule, she’d have no choice but to marry him, but he refused to take matters so far. She needed to be able to marry him with nothing more between them than kisses so that they were both sure that this was what they needed and wanted.
His hand hovered close to her breast, and Gabe broke the kiss before she granted more favors than she should allow and he forgot his determination in doing this right.
As he backed away, she sighed, and he stiffened further. Soon, less than a fortnight, he’d not need to stop with just kissing.
It was going to be a bloody long two weeks.
“We are well matched, you and I,” he said. Certainly she realized that.
This time she blew out a sigh that was not of pleasure but bordered on irritation and turned away from him.
What had he done now?
“Am I the first woman you’ve kissed, enjoyed kissing, and found beautiful and desirable?”
How the hell did he even answer that question? If he said yes, she’d know he lied. If he said no, he’d be damned. This was akin to being called to his headmaster’s office while at Eton.
She chuckled. “I’ll take your nonverbal answer as a response that I’m not the first.”
“It’s not the
same. They were different. You are different,” he argued.
Claudia turned and hitched an eyebrow. “I’m sure we were all different, yet you didn’t offer for any of them. Why offer for me?”
This time Gabe did pull at his cravat. It was getting blasted uncomfortable in here. Why was it that teachers could look you in the eye and get right to the heart of the matter? If he didn’t answer correctly, Claudia might just go find a switch somewhere. If she had one now, she’d be slapping it against the palm of her hand as a warning that he’d better answer correctly.
“Respectability,” he blurted out the first word that popped into his mind.
Claudia pursed her lips and nodded as if considering his answer.
“Please explain,” she finally said.
This most definitely felt like he was at Eton again. Were teachers taught the skills of making a student uncomfortable? She’d be excellent at heading up the interrogations of the Home Office. Perhaps she should consider a change of profession.
Except, he wasn’t her student or a criminal. He was a gentleman, and she was the woman he wished to marry.
He straightened and looked her in the eye. “It’s time I became a respectable gentleman. For myself and for my sisters.”
She nodded, but no light of approval shown in her blue eyes
Claudia took a step back and studied Gabe. Perhaps she should feel flattered that out of all the ladies he was acquainted with, he’d chosen her, and perhaps she might even feel flattered if his reasons were different. While she did offer respectability to his tarnished name, a number of women could offer the same.
Had he been thinking about offering for her before Atwood stepped in? She wasn’t certain, but he claimed that he had so Claudia chose to believe him.
However, neither were reasons to wed.
“Why is respectability so important now?” From what she understood, he’d been on the road of reprehensible behavior since the moment he left Oxford. This was a complete about-face.
“My sisters,” he answered. “They will leave the school in a year. The following spring, they’ll enter Society.”