The carriage has slowed to a near halt by now, so he swung open the door and stepped out into the storm. He barely managed to hang onto the portal as the fierce wind tried to rip it out of his grasp. He clung on tightly and made his way hand over hand to the horses.
He threw the ladies' shawls around the two horses' heads and tied them tightly. Already soaked to the skin, he signalled to the driver to order them to walk on. He grasped the tracer of the horse on the right and began to lead them forward slowly, ducking his head against the pelting rain.
Meanwhile, Gabrielle was addressing her sister inside. "Didn't you think to say anything while we were still safely in Bath?" she asked in alarm as well as exasperation.
"It's just come on now," Lucinda wailed. "God, it hurts."
Gabrielle flung open the shades and risked looking out to see where Simon had got to.
Their progress was painstakingly slow. Another sharp cry from her sister almost set her into a panic.
It was apparent as the moments ticked past and they inched along that they were never going to make it back to Barkston House in time. And with the way Lucinda was shrieking, they wouldn't even be able to make it back to the Duke's townhouse in Bath, even if they could manage to get the horses turned around in the narrow lane that was rapidly flooding.
She knew she had to make a decision, but it was one which affected all their lives. She only wished she was more familiar with the road...
"Simon! Simon! Can you come back here a moment?"
Her voice caught on the wind, forcing her to shout even louder until eventually he turned around to look at her, concerned etched in every line of his face.
She waved encouragingly despite the fact that her head was now soaked, and the shoulders and bosom of her gown drenched as well.
He climbed back inside, setting the coach floor awash with the run-off from his saturated garments.
"We need to decide what to do. Go forward, or try to head back. If we go to Bath we could get a doctor, but with this storm I don't think we'll be able to travel so far. This lane is so narrow I don't think we can turn the carriage around and we don't dare unharness the horses for fear they might bolt. But the roads are only getting worse. We can try to find a house to take shelter in, but the trouble is there won't be a doctor. I might have to deliver the baby myself. I do have some experience, but--"
He was the soul of calm, pressing her hand in both of his own. Despite his soaked state, she was warmed by the contact instantly. "You can do this, love. Start to look through all the things we bought today for anything that will help us if she were to give birth right here and now."
"Oh, surely not..."
He nodded. "We have to face facts. The roads are flooding. The rivers and streams are all rising and even breaking their banks by the look and sound of things. I'm going to try to lead the horses further on, but we need to be prepared for the worst, my love, even as we pray for the best. Any shelter will be better than none, though it might be awfully primitive."
"Well, we'll just have to make the best of whatever befalls us," she said, lifting her chin bravely.
He bent his head to give her a rain-soaked kiss. "It'll be all right. But we need to get moving. We can't afford to get bogged down here. As soon as I find a place that looks even the least bit likely, we'll stop."
She cupped his cheek and smiled at him in sheer relief. "I love you."
"And I you. You know what to do for her. Antony taught you well. And I'll help. I'm not afraid. I've seen it before during the war. We're a family. We can all do this together. All right?"
She nodded. "Thank you. That's just what I needed to hear."
He kissed her again, only this time it felt as though he was doing it with his whole heart and soul and soul in his lips, and she responded in kind. Then he gave Lucinda's hand a pat.
"Don't worry, dear, you'll be fine."
"I believe you," she gritted out. "But hurry. And be careful. I need us all to be fine too."
Simon grinned and nodded, then went back out into the raging storm to guide the horses forward once more.
After another ten minutes, Simon saw a long drive off to the left, sheltered by trees. He moved over to the horse on the left and grabbed the traces.
He waved to Gabrielle and pointed. She waved back and he trudged on.
The trees sheltered Simon and the carriage from the wind and rain now, so that not every step was a struggle. Though it was still raining, it wasn't coming down in torrential sheets, and the tumultuous wind was broken by the thick broad oaks, and had also subsided somewhat.
The storm was easing, it was true, but Simon felt as though a bolt of lightning had shot through him. They could try to head back to Bath, but something about the place seemed so familiar, his feet seemed to have a mind of their own as he plodded onwards.
After what seemed an interminably long time, they came within sight of a huge castle, which Gabrielle had to guess from the battlements had been built in the fourteenth century.
She could see from the remnants of some scaffolding that it had been modernised and added to relatively recently.
It was magnificent, with three huge wings east, west and north. She lapsed back into her seat with a sigh. There would be people, servants, and plenty of help soon, she was sure.
Yet when they neared the ancient castle, there was no sign of life apart from a single candle burning in one of the front windows. Gabrielle pressed her face to the glass of the carriage door eagerly, looking for any sign of life.
But as they pulled up, all was still and silent apart from the sussuration of the falling rain and the groan and wail of the wind.
Gabrielle shivered with cold, fear and a nameless unease, a strange tingling sensation down along her spine. Yet the house seemed so welcoming, despite the lonely setting and the gloom rapidly setting in now that night was falling.
Simon had brought the vehicle to a halt at the foot of the ornate marble staircase and now rapped and rapped at the large door knocker.
But after standing in the rain for several minutes getting more and more drenched, he finally attempted the door. It pushed open with a creak, and he called, "Hello? Is anyone here?"
There was no sound except the whisper of the wind. He looked to Gabrielle in an agony of indecision.
On the one hand he didn't wish to be accused of breaking and entering someone's private home. On the other hand, Lucinda was in trouble.
Another labor pang and scream from Lucinda decided him in an instant. He pushed the door open wide and entered. He stepped through the hallway to the room lit by the single candle, and found a splendid fire burning in a large stone hearth.
The chamber was beautifully furnished, but not completely carpeted. The original flagstone floors had been scrubbed clean, and he could see a large kettle of hot water suspended over the fire, and another sitting on a tripod.
Even more curious was the aroma of freshly made tea, despite the apparent emptiness of the house. A beautiful porcelain tea set sat on a low table by a fine pair of sofas, which were exquisitely upholstered in a navy, wine and gold pattern. The wallpaper was a burgundy garland pattern in silk. The Turkey carpets were burgundy and blue floral. The whole was genteel, elegant and pleasing to the eye.
Simon decided that whoever lived here, they could not possibly be so heartless as to turn them away in these circumstances. He didn't dare bring Lucinda up to one of the bedrooms-that would indeed be far too presumptuous. But this room would not be ruined in any way by them using it for Lucinda's lying in if they put her on the bare stone in front of the fire, and they would gladly pay them for their trouble if they minded.
He would send the coach driver on to Barkston House on one of the horses with a message as to what had happened. Then he could see if the driver could fetch Eswara or Blake just in case the labour proved longer than Gabrielle feared.
She had already come up the stairs with some supplies and skirted the small carpet to drip all over the st
one floor as she set down the sewing basket. She handed him a pile of linens while she tried to balance the basket of food she had in her other hand.
"There's no one here, but I'm not going any further on a night like this. They must all be away. I'm guessing the servants minding the house have gone to Bath or somewhere, and got caught by the really bad weather. It'll be all right." He smiled at her reassuringly.
Gabrielle once again believed him. She caressed his face. "I don't know what it is about you that always makes me feel as if I can do anything. As if everything is going to be all right. But so long as I know you're by my side, all things are possible.
"All right, we'll stay. We shall make up a pallet by the fire for her and we can use some of those cushions to prop her up. Fenton can leave the coach and ride on horseback to take a message home."
He nodded. "I'll tell him, and bring Lucinda in while you get everything ready. Look, there's tea and hot water and everything. We might as well just help ourselves and pay them for their hospitality afterwards."
"Oh, I'm sure anyone who lives in so fine a house as this will be more than welcoming," she said, looking around wide-eyed at the finely appointed room.
"Yes, I get that feeling too. Like I've been here before. So there's no need to be nervous about that at any rate, just about her labor."
He rubbed her back soothingly for a moment. She leaned into his body as he embraced her. He whispered in her ear, "I'll go check on her and bring the rest of the things in."
"Thank you, Simon."
"Thank you, Gabrielle."
"Whatever for?"
He smiled. "The gift of your love, warmth, compassion, and your total gorgeousness."
"Oh, you..." She shooed him away, but couldn't resist one last heated kiss, and found herself smiling from ear to ear despite the seriousness of their situation.
He gave her a cheeky wink, and headed back outside into the sheeting rain.
He told Fenton to go inside to have some tea, and when he was refreshed, to take the stronger of the two horses and tie the other under the row of sheltering trees.
The rain was still lashing down almost sideways in the buffeting winds in the open area in front of the house. He wished the tree lined avenue had extended all the way to the front door.
Simon hunched himself into his coat and went to fetch Lucinda, who was wide-eyed and panting.
"Is everything all right?"
"Fine. It's a lovely house. Put your arms around my neck and we'll get you inside."
"It's a beautiful house," she agreed. "You've been here before, haven't you?"
He started in surprise. "I think so. Why do you ask?"
"It feels so familiar somehow."
Simon nodded. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I usually only get that sort of sensation when I'm about to have an epileptic fit. I thought I was going to let the two of you down."
"You could never do that, Simon," Lucinda stated calmly. "You love Gabrielle, and so that means you love me and baby too, because we're a part of her. You're my brother, and the baby's uncle. And godfather if you'll agree. You and Randall, since he's been so kind. I hope you don't mind my asking, but it's the least I can do since you've been so wonderful to us both."
He blushed. "Really, Lucinda, that's very kind of you..."
"It's more than kind. It's the most sensible thing to do. I would like to think that my son and Gabrielle could count on you if, well, anything ever happened. You know my husband is a bad man. I would want you and Gabrielle to look after Christopher if anything ever happened to me. You will promise me, won't you? Won't you?" Her blue eyes were clear, beseeching, but not wild.
He stared for a moment at the change in her. She practically glowed with the prospect of motherhood. "Of course I will," he said sincerely as he grasped her waist to lift her down from the carriage.
Simon was shocked at her words. Not least because this was the most that Lucinda had ever said to him, let alone in one set of sentences. Miracles really did happen.
She looped her arms around him, her blue eyes blurred with unshed tears. He was startled at how similar and dissimilar the sisters appeared, one so fair, one so fiery, yet both undeniably intelligent and passionate.
He had to admit nothing could compare to his fiery Gabrielle, but Lucinda was lovely in her own right. It was a tragedy for her young life to have been so blighted through one wrong choice of husband, he thought grimly as he adjusted her weight in his arms to lift her out of the carriage.
"I'm so tired, Simon," Lucinda sighed. "I don't really care what happens to me. But I want Christopher to be safe. You need to promise me that if it's a case of deciding between us, you'll choose my son."
"My dear, it's never going to come to that..."
"Gabrielle won't understand, but really, after the horrors of my marriage, I don't want to live in fear. Live with the nightmares any longer. The only thing that's kept me alive all these months is knowing that the baby was inside me. That I was a vessel for it. But my job is just about done now. I can be released..."
Simon held her close as he lifted her out into the pouring rain and quickly headed for the stairs. "Don't say your purpose has been fulfilled. You've carried the baby, and now you have to raise him. Being a parent never stops until the day one or the other of your dies. The gods willing. that will be a very long time from now."
"Do you really think so?" she asked with a hopeful note in her voice.
"Yes. I know you had a terrible marriage. I can only begin to guess at the brutality he subjected you to. But I know in my heart there will be someone who loves you for yourself one day. Someone who you can save from loneliness and despair, just as Gabrielle did to me. Someone who will save you, Lucinda, and make you whole again. You're not ready now. It will take you a couple of years at least. And perhaps you'll always be a little afraid of men as a result of his cruelty."
She gave a timid little nod.
"But not all men are rapiners and despoilers. Besides, Oxnard doesn't deserve to win. If you give up now and tell us to just take the baby and let you die, then you'll miss out on the most joyous part of being a mother, Lucinda. Seeing your child grow up to be big and strong and..."
"I pray God not like his father. I would want him to be like you."
He looked surprised and blushed with pleasure at the compliment. "Very kind of you to say so. In that case we will pray that he is all things good, decent, and kind, and has no traits of his father at all, and looks likes you. And that he will have the same sweet disposition, and will never cause you a moment's concern or grief. And that he will have a loving stepfather one day who will absolutely adore him as his own."
Lucinda smiled. "Amen to that."
"So cling to that prayer through all that's about to come, all right, my dear, and we'll get through this swimmingly."
"Aye, swimming for certain in this rain," she said with a giggle.
Again, Simon wondered at how she had suddenly become so lucid, witty, even, but time was pressing on. He needed to get her inside and comfortable, and hope the baby held off long enough for them to get her some help.
God only knew what would happen if they didn't....
Chapter Twenty-seven
Simon reached the top of the stairs and entered the snug drawing room he had allocated for Lucinda's lying in. "Here we are, Gabrielle," he called cheerily as he brought her sister over toward the fire where she had hastily prepared a pallet.
Gabrielle looked at the two of them and blinked. For a moment she could have sworn...
"Is the weather outside improving?" she asked, stunned.
He looked surprised. "No, not at all. It's just as rainy as ever, in fact. Why?"
She shook her head. "It's nothing. For a moment there I thought I saw the sun coming out. Never mind. Bring her over her, and settle her down. I'll get her out of these wet things."
"Fenton is going to have a rest and some tea and sandwiches, and then he'll head on," he told her as he eased the
pregnant woman onto the floor as gently as possible. "I'll get all the provisions out of the coach. If there's anything else you need after that, I can scavenge around for them. This is a grand house. I'm sure everything we need will be here somewhere."
"Good thing we bought the baby things, eh?" she said with a smile at Lucinda.
"Aye, he'll have the best swaddling in Somerset," she replied.
Gabrielle stared at her for a moment. She could have sworn she actually saw her sister smile again.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection 6 Page 27