“Are you going to answer me?”
“I don’t believe so,” she replied softly. “So the only reason you want to keep me around is because you need a son?”
“Oh, bloody hell.”
***
What in Hell is Hawkescliffe doing here? The maid had told him she would be here with his grandmother. He was supposed to still be out of town. Damn! He leaned against the rail of the walking bridge and stared sightlessly at the water. He had two options, walk away and try later, or he could attempt to see it finished here and now. He risked being seen. Was it worth the chance?
He unobtrusively observed the area, looking for what he wasn’t sure. Then he saw it. Oh how ironic that the weapon that would aid him in Lady Hawkescliffe’s demise was her husband’s own equipage. As he began to stroll toward the curricle, he regretted that he would never taste Kala’s sweet flesh as he had so often longed to do.
***
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he muttered.
“Do not give me that answer. What do you mean?” She stomped her foot and subconsciously heard the wood of the footbridge beneath her foot.
“You want to know what I think? All right. I think you attempt to act like you are not afraid of anything, but in fact you are afraid of quite a lot.”
“You’re a bloody idiot.” She hoped her face showed nothing.
“Kala, lower your voice and watch your language.”
“Now who is afraid? Afraid of what society might think about your wife? Do you fear someone might think you married a hoyden? Well, guess what Gabe, they would be correct! What is that going to do to your precious title?”
“Perhaps this argument is better left for home,” he said, unsure how they even began arguing in the first place.
“Are you afraid to hear the truth, or afraid someone else might? Gabe, have you not yet realized that the members of the ton couldn’t give a damn about you? All they see us as is more fuel for their gossip. Who cares? Let them gossip. For once since you have inherited the title do what you want to do and ignore them.” She felt his mouth over hers in that instant. She pulled back in shock. “What are you doing?”
“Exactly what you told me to do.”
She felt the rail of the walking bridge pressing into her back. They heard someone yell “Run!” A loud chorus of screams followed.
“What’s going on?” Kala asked, trying to focus on the screams.
“Whatever it is, people are being forced our direction.”
“Shouldn’t we move?”
“I think we are safe here. That curricle can’t fit on the foot bridge,” he stood and watched the chaos unfolding. More people tried to fit on the footbridge, crushing Kala and Gabe against the rail. He did his best to put himself between her and the crowd. “My God,” he muttered.
“What?” Mikala heard the worry in his voice.
“It’s our curricle.”
“Tommy!” She heard a piercing scream.
“Dear Lord! Stay here.” He left her in a sea of bodies.
“Tommy! Someone help!”
“What’s happening?” Mikala asked frantically.
“What, are you blind?” A man with a harsh German accent questioned.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” He cleared his throat apologetically and began to describe the chaotic scene before them. “There is a driverless gig being dragged across the park. Horse acts as if it has been spooked. A small boy seems to have gotten away from his caregiver and is in the path of the horse.”
Kala sent up a silent prayer for the boy. Then she realized that her dear, stupid husband had gone to save him. “So, you don’t want to be a hero?”
“Huh?” the same guttural voice asked.
“Nothing. Is there a man running towards them?”
“Yes. He appears to be attempting to intercept the horse.” Kala kept up a string of prayers. “He’s standing in front of the horse, waving his arms like a madman. It’s working! The horse is turning. Several other men have joined him and the horse is turning in a tighter circle, slowing.” Thank goodness he hadn’t gotten himself killed. “Most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, dyah.” Kala felt her knees go weak in relief, hating that she couldn’t see for herself what had happened.
“Your husband is a hero,” a different voice said behind her. This voice sounded eerily familiar, but the speaker masked his voice just enough that she couldn’t quite make the person out. A shiver shimmied down her spine. The crowd had begun to thin somewhat now that the excitement was over.
“Yes, he is.”
“Excited to see me? Whatever will your husband think?” A voice whispered in her ear.
“Who are you?”
“Still can’t see? That is a shame.”
“How do you know? Who are you?” He started pulling her down the footbridge. “What are you doing? Gabe!” she screamed as loud as her deep voice would allow.
“Shut up,” the man hissed and covered her mouth with his hand. She reached up caressingly, until she reached the man’s ears, reached back as far as she could and slapped her hands over them. He howled and quickly let go of her. She stumbled back and tripped on something. Her arms flailed as she tried to regain her balance.
Seeing his chance, the man forgot his ringing ears and grabbed her. He found himself shocked with the strength in which she fought back. She stood against the rail, trying to feel her way down the bridge when she felt someone swing her up and then remove their arms before she had time to fight. For a moment she panicked, not knowing when she would land, until her temple hit something hard. Mikala knew nothing when the water engulfed her.
“Kala!” Gabe yelled, racing from the horse and gig as he watched someone drop his wife over the bridge. He saw her head bounce awkwardly before she landed in the water with a splash. “Kala!” He yelled again as he reached the bank. He had wasted precious time fighting the crowd that had formed around the scene.
The runaway horse now forgotten, people stood by watching Kala float facedown in the water. No one had jumped in to save her, damn them all to Hell. He jumped in, fighting the suction of the mud as he waded to her. Gabe turned her over and laid his fingers against her slender neck, praying. Her pulse felt faint, but she wasn’t breathing. He trudged back to the bank with her in his arms. He ignored the rising murmur of voices, and focused on Kala.
“I can’t lose you now. Dammit, you have to fight. You hear me? You can’t give up. Not now.” He turned her onto her stomach; her head rested lower than the rest of her body. He moved to straddle her thighs, and amongst gasps at this shocking display began pushing on her lower back. He continued this in a rhythm for what seemed to be forever, before she began coughing and vomiting water.
He continued a few more times until he felt satisfied she would be able to expel all the water she had swallowed. He turned her on her side and held her while she retched. He saw blood trickling from a gash along her temple. The gash had to be responsible for her near drowning for he knew her to be an excellent swimmer.
“Kala, sweetheart, open your eyes.” He tapped her cheeks and called her name again when she didn’t respond.
“My head,” she moaned huskily.
“Can you open your eyes?” He watched her try to pry open her lids then quickly shut them.
“Bright. Hurts. Home,” she finished softly. She began shivering from the chill of her wet clothes and the breezy autumn day.
“All right. We’ll get you home.” He stood with her in his arms and turned towards the curricle. He paused and turned back to look at the bridge, but saw only spectators.
“Will she be all right?” A German man came up to him.
“I believe so. Who are you?”
“I stood next to the young lady on the bridge when you went after the horse. Bit of bad luck all the way around,” he said with a guttural accent.
“Yes.”
“Can I help?”
Gabe looked at the stout m
an and decided he would have to enlist the man’s assistance. “Can you lift her up to me?”
“Dyah,” the man said and accepted Mikala’s slight weight.
Gabe climbed up and settled the horse before reaching for his wife. He settled her beside him, wrapping one arm around her while the other took up the reigns. “Thank you for your assistance.”
“Best wishes,” the man waved, before joining a portly lady.
The curricle lurched into movement and Kala moaned. “Shhh,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. A fine tremor ran through him as he realized how close he had come to losing her today. “Never again,” he vowed.
***
The man in the worker’s tweeds, with the hat pulled low let loose expletives not fit for most ears. Everything had been perfect. “Why does Hawkescliffe have to think he’s a bloody hero?” He paused to rub his still ringing ears. “That bloody little bitch.”
He realized he had underestimated them. He needed to rethink his tactics. They would be on their guard for a while. The house would be a veritable fortress with Kala acting the part of the princess locked in the tower. He had had her in his arms.
“Dammit,” he growled in frustration, turning to punch a tree that stood behind him. The rough bark scraped his knuckles causing them to bleed. He body still ached from feeling her body against his, smelling her scent. She belonged to him. Didn’t she realize that? He would have her and then flaunt that in front of Hawkescliffe. The knowledge that he had been cuckolded would be enough to drive the proud man over the edge. He might even let the duke watch as she fought him, and she would. A Machiavellian grin spread across his face.
No, he would bide his time and wait for her. In the meantime, he had a mission to fulfill. He had to find that damn grail.
Chapter 27
Gabe entered the house and instructed Hamlin to bring clean cloths and fresh water to their bedchamber. He then proceeded to carry her upstairs leaving a trail of water behind them. His grandmother let out a sharp gasp as they passed.
“Oh, dear,” she laid a hand against her chest. “I had a dream,” she trailed off.
“Grandmother, I can’t listen to your premonitions right now.”
“What happened?”
“I was there, and I’m still not sure.”
“Goodness. Is that blood trickling down her cheek?”
“Yes. Someone threw her from the footbridge and she hit her head. She very nearly drowned.”
“Did you say someone threw her off a bridge?”
“I will explain later.”
“Should I call a doctor?” Judith asked, knowing her grandson would not appreciate her lecturing him about the dangers of his involvement in the war effort, commendable as it was.
“I don’t think so.” He arrived at the door to the suite and Judith opened it to let him in. He started to lay his precious burden on the bed before she stopped him.
“Everything will just be wet again. Can we try to rouse her enough to change her?”
He lowered her feet to the floor and supported her weight against him. “Kala, sweetheart, you have to wake up now. Grandmother, pull the drapes. She complained earlier about the brightness outside.”
“Does that mean...”
“I don’t know. Kala, wake up,” he said in a much firmer voice.
“I am. You don’t have to yell,” she whispered, a mutinous expression on her face and a crease between her brows.
“We need to get you out of these wet clothes.”
“My head is pounding.”
“I imagine so,” he replied.
Minutes later, her maid walked in with daywear in her hand. She quickly took in the situation, announced she would be right back, and returned promptly with a nightgown.
“Gabe, wait outside. We’ll call you when we need your help,” Judith said gently, knowing he hated leaving Mikala for a moment. He moved to the adjoining room after grabbing a change of clothes. Once he was dressed and dry he paced until they called him back. He walked in and found his wife already in bed, her face pale and her eyes closed. The blood had been cleaned from her face and a bruise had begun to develop around her temple. “She’s asleep again. We should probably wake her in a few hours to see if the bump did further damage.”
“I’ll stay with her.”
“I don’t mind doing it,” his grandmother offered.
“No. I need to be with her. I failed her once. I won’t do it again.” He pulled up a chair and sat down, his elbows on his thighs and his hands clasped loosely together. He stared intently watching the rise and fall of her chest. That small movement reassured him that she remained with him. Finally the door closed quietly and they were alone. Kala had been injured before, but never before had he felt so helpless or murderous.
What had changed? He questioned himself silently. In some way, Kala had gone from being the pest that had always tagged along to a woman he not only lusted over, but also cared about. He felt that perhaps a stronger emotion lurked nearby, yet feared putting a word to it. In the same breath, if something had happened to her, it didn’t bear thinking about.
He pushed up and stretched, then rolled his neck from side to side attempting to loosen the knots that had developed. He had a great many things to do. He found himself no closer to finding the government spy. Worse yet, he had no hunches. He had a list of men who it could be, but half were on the list because they had been close to his wife and he wanted them out of her life. Someone had deliberately pulled him away from Kala’s side. He had tied the horse’s reins to a tree as they took the stroll. Perhaps she would be able to shed some light on what happened when she woke.
She shifted in her sleep drawing his eyes to her. For the first time since he had returned from Blackburn Hall he noticed gray smudges under her eyes. They were light, but present. Her cheeks weren’t as full as usual either. Could she be ill? Was she eating? Could she really have been worried for his welfare? For the first time since their marriage he wondered how she spent her days. She had told him she memorized the layout of the major rooms, but surely that didn’t take all day. What did a woman who had been very active do when she could no longer see?
Gabe awakened Mikala. She opened her eyes but quickly shut them. When he questioned her, she would only mumble the word hurt, roll over and go back to sleep. He rang for her maid and asked her to bring some sort of pack to put on Kala’s eyes. She returned with a lavender scented washcloth that had set in chilled water. He kept vigil over Kala until he could no longer keep his own eyes open, darkness having descended long ago.
Dressed in his shirtsleeves and pantaloons, he padded barefoot across the room. He climbed onto the bed and settled himself before gently pulling his wife into his arms. She moaned in her sleep at the disturbance before settling against him. Gabe kissed the top of her head and commanded his body to relax. Soon he joined her in slumber.
***
Kala awoke from a deep fog, confused. Her head throbbed, making it difficult to think. She saw the huge posts of the bed looming blurrily in front of her. Were her eyes playing tricks on her or did she really see the bedpost? She felt her head pillowed on a soft, yet hard body. Shifting she could make out Gabe’s face, though it remained slightly blurry. Her heart began to race in excitement.
In a flash, the events that had transpired flooded her. The horse ran wildly through the park. The threatening voice. Being lifted in the air and dropped. What had happened after that? She shifted to her back and moaned. Her back hurt, her stomach ached and her temple throbbed. She rolled to her side with her back braced against Gabe and made out the blurry flames of the fire. Feeling the need to visit the water closet, she squirmed away from Gabe to crawl across the bed. An arm crossed her waist and pulled her back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He whispered in her ear.
“Ummm, I have to, well...”
“What is it, Kala? You’ve never been tongue tied before.”
“If you must kn
ow, I must use the water closet.” Her jaw dropped when she heard him chuckle.
“You don’t know how good it is to hear you dressing me down. Please, let me assist you.” She couldn’t help the small moan that escaped her as she attempted to crawl from the bed. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything hurts. What happened to me?”
“One thing at a time.” He helped her off the bed and slowly led her to an adjoining room that had a private water closet. “Yell out when you are, ummm, finished.”
Embarrassed, Kala shut the door. He knows what I’m doing in here, she thought, mortified. She attempted to convince herself it was natural, and even he had to do it from time to time. She buried her hot face in her hands and let out an anguished moan. A knock sounded at the door and her head snapped up.
“Kala, are you all right in there? You’re not sick are you? Do I need to come in?”
“No! I mean, no, I’m not sick. I’m fine, I’ll be right out.” She quickly took care of matters so that he would not find an excuse to come in. A bowl and pitcher of water had been considerately placed inside for refreshing one’s self. “I’m done,” she called out and heard the hinges on the door creak as it opened.
“Are you sure you’re fine?”
“Only mortified.”
“Oh. Do you feel like talking about what happened at the park?” He pulled her hand through his arm and led her back into the duke’s chamber.
“Yes.”
“Would you prefer to lie down or sit?”
After thinking for a moment she said, “Sit. I don’t remember everything.” She sat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace.
“I suspect not. Tell me what you do remember.” She began recalling the events when he stopped her mid-sentence. “How did you know that a little boy stood in the path of the horse?” He asked suspiciously, wondering if perhaps she could see.
“A German man stood beside me and gave me a running commentary.”
“Oh. I had to do something.”
A Thin Line Page 23