Legacy Redeemed (Redeemed, Restored, Reclaimed Book 1)

by Aubrey Grayson

  He knew little of Clarissa, having only met her at the masquerade ball. She seemed a lovely girl. He hated to see her tied to Julian for all time. For even though he knew Clarissa but little, he knew his own cousin far too well.

  After dinner, he struggled through his port with the other gentlemen. To his credit, he didn’t change his expression when the others congratulated Julian on his betrothal. Nor did he react when Julian proclaimed that he would do everything in his power to honor his bride.

  When the gentlemen rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, he found himself seated next to Lady Clarissa. She smiled at him.

  “Mr. Daventry, I must tell you I am grateful that I am not the intended recipient of your foul mood.”

  He let out a breath, fearing it came out more as a grunt. It served to remind him that he was in a drawing room, speaking to a lady. He smiled tightly. “Well, it seems I’ve not done so well at hiding that as I thought. No, indeed, you are not, milady.” He forced himself to continue. “I hear that congratulations are due. Have you exciting plans for your wedding?”

  Was it his imagination, or did the sparkle in her eyes dim? If so, she recovered beautifully. “Yes, I believe the wedding is to be at St. George’s, in a month’s time. My mother is beside herself preparing my trousseau and writing invitations.”

  “Why the month’s wait? Julian’s father is an earl. Couldn’t he procure a special license?”

  Color seeped up her face, and her smile disappeared. “We decided to have the banns read out of respect for our families.”

  He searched her face. “I wonder if you worry about this betrothal of yours? Do you worry that your marriage will be far from blissful?”

  Now white lines appeared at the sides of her mouth. She looked toward the rest of the party, perhaps seeking a way to avoid answering the question. He regretted repaying her friendly smile with this line of questioning and opened his mouth to give her reprieve, when he heard her small voice answer.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I worry.” She forced a smile upon her face and looked up at him. “I fear I have taken enough of your time. I will rejoin my mama.” And with that she turned and walked away, leaving him feeling as vile as the one he accused.

  Nick groaned and scrubbed his hands over his brow. Would that he had an excuse to leave this interminable evening. He would go up to Gabriel’s room and listen to his little snore, the way he used to do after Mary died. Remind himself that he still had plenty to be thankful for even if he lost his home. And Susannah.

  As though he’d ever had her.

  Julian approached, his smug smile causing Nick a surge of nausea. His cousin plopped himself into the seat that Clarissa had so recently vacated, emphasizing the difference in manner between the man and his graceful bride-to-be.

  “I presume you had a lovely conversation with my betrothed.” His voice was as smug as his smile. “Told her all the secrets of Poppledown Park, I hope, for when she is the lady of the house.”

  Nick inclined his head. “Miss Peabody is a lovely woman.”

  “Yes, of course she is. I am very much looking forward to bedding her.”

  It was exactly the vile sort of thing that Nick expected Julian to say. He made no response other than a rather involuntary roll of his eyes.

  Julian’s smile grew more pointed, as though he were about to give the winning strike in a fencing match. “Speaking of lovely women, tell me more about this woman that is staying in the neighborhood. Your brother said her given name is Susannah?”

  Ugh. Stupid Terence. He hadn’t thought to stay his brother’s tongue. He nodded. “Mrs. Stanhope. A widow staying as a guest of the vicarage.”

  Now Julian nodded knowingly. “A widow. Of course. Pretty young widow, is she? Golden hair and deep-blue eyes?”

  Nick’s eyes met Julian’s, not knowing where his cousin was going with this line of questioning.

  Julian continued. “Appeared in Seaton just days after Hector Dunmore’s ward—also Susannah—flew away from his protection, taking with her an exorbitant sum, the little thief. I say Hector’s better off without that nasty bit of baggage, though he feels responsible for her future and wants her back under his wing.” He sighed dramatically. “Poor deluded man. She isn’t to be trusted. I had the distinct misfortune of spending enough time with her to learn that the hard way.”

  Nick swallowed back every retort that would give lie to his calm exterior. He smiled earnestly. “Well, it is a good thing that the vicar’s Susannah is not the same woman, though perhaps the physical description is similar. But the vicar knows this woman well, she being the daughter of an old friend.” He added to the lie. “I believe he knew her husband too. Otherwise, I would take you to her right now, and we would bundle her off to London. It’s not safe for a woman like the one you describe to be loosed upon society unchecked.” Now he was making himself sick. But better that than this fool know Susannah was here.

  His cousin nodded. “A good thing. A good thing indeed. Hector’s ward—you wouldn’t believe the sorts of vile things she said about my character. A slanderer of the worst sort.”

  Nick nodded, barely, hoping that would be seen as enough of an agreement.

  An awkward silence descended. Julian seemed to realize that continuing to disparage the girl would only make him look a twit, but had no other topic of conversation at hand.

  And Nick wasn’t feeling in the mood to put the man at ease. He allowed the moment to grow until Julian showed obvious discomfort. Then Nick excused himself. “Well, I’m off to check on Gabriel. Lovely to meet Miss Peabody.” Alice might reproach him about leaving before their guests, but that was a problem for tomorrow. For tonight, Nick was done playing host.

  He made his way up the stairs, quieting his steps when he neared the nursery. Gabriel was a sound sleeper, but Charlie had been known to waken at the slightest sound.

  But as it turned out, he needn’t have worried. Charlie was already awake sitting by the fire, playing with toy soldiers. And Gabriel was nowhere to be found.

  Chapter 21

  A thorough search of the rest of the house revealed that Gabriel could not be located. Charlie was questioned but would only say that Gabriel had “gone to get his mama and snuggle her.” Which both terrified and confused Nick.

  Mary was buried in the churchyard at St. Gregory’s. Perhaps the child had gone there. If so, he would have had to pass the cottage and the vicarage. He called for a horse, and while it was being readied, asked Terence and Alice to keep watch for the boy in case he came home. He didn’t want to think what might have happened that caused his boy to act so out of character. The only comfort to be found in Charlie’s rather unhelpful testimony was that it did appear that Gabriel left alone and of his own free will. Not to say an abduction couldn’t happen later.

  He rode to the cottage first, in case the boy had decided to stop there. Honestly, the little walking path wasn’t the best for his horse, especially by moonlight, and under normal circumstances, he would have taken the longer road to the vicarage, but these were certainly not normal times.

  He practically leapt from the horse’s back, and ran to pound on the door. He didn’t wait for her to respond before he yelled. “Susannah! Is he here? Please tell me he’s here. Susannah!”

  She came to the door, her amber-colored hair hanging in a straight waterfall down her back, wearing only a dressing gown. For a moment, his breath caught in surprise to see her in such a state of dishabille.

  She spoke, giving him a moment to recover. “No one is here. But who are you looking for?”

  He finally managed to close his gaping mouth and swallow. “Gabriel. He is gone… He likes you, so I thought he might be here.”

  Susannah’s brows raised in alarm, her mouth forming a little o. “No, he’s not here. I will help you look.”

  Nick shook his head and gestured to her dressing gown. “No time. Going to check at the vicarage and then the churchyard.” And without even waiting for a response, he t
urned back to his horse.

  ***

  Under normal circumstances, Susannah would have been annoyed at his lack of sense. Obviously, two people working together would have better luck figuring out where the boy was than one person running around half crazed with worry. But truth be told, she was half crazed with worry too, so she let her annoyance pass. Instead, she dressed quickly, tying her hair back with a ribbon instead of putting it up in her usual style. And then she was off to the vicarage.

  Nick was just exiting the door of the vicarage, toward his horse, when Susannah spotted him. “Nick! Wait for me!” she called.

  He blinked when he saw her, surprise on his face. “You were quick.”

  She shrugged. “It’s Gabriel.”

  He stared at her for a moment and then gestured at the horse. “Can you ride pillion?” She nodded, and he mounted the horse, pulling her up behind him.

  “Where do we search next?” she asked.

  Nick sighed, and she thought for a moment he wasn’t going to answer. “The graveyard.” He kicked the horse, and they were off, leaving Susannah to worry about holding on rather than asking more questions.

  St. Gregory’s was near, and it was but a few moments before he pulled the horse to a halt, helping Susannah slide down before leaping off himself.

  “Gabriel! Gabriel!” he called.

  But there was no response. No movement from the graveyard or elsewhere.

  “What makes you think he might be here?”

  “His cousin. He told us that he has gone to get his mama. And snuggle her.”

  “His mama? Does he even remember her?”

  He shook his head. “No. She died giving birth to him.”

  “Has he been talking about her?”

  Nick gave a bitter laugh. “No. All he talks about is you.”

  Susannah’s eyes widened in alarm as a thought occurred to her. “Nick, did Gabriel know you proposed to me?”

  “No, of course not. Though he did suggest it, once, on his own.”

  “And what did you tell him when he suggested it?”

  “That we didn’t have anything to offer you. No home of our own, even.”

  “That wasn’t exactly true, was it? After all, if you married, Poppledown Park would be yours, wouldn’t it?”

  Nick winced in the moonlight. “It would. I suppose I felt it easier to put him off than to confess that you wouldn’t have me.”

  Susannah stared at him for a long moment, trying to work it all out. Her mind wanted to turn over this bit about Nick lying to his son to avoid talking about her refusal, but Gabriel was too important. If the boy had gone to try to obtain her as a mama, and he hadn’t come straight to her, where would he have gone?

  “The clue.”

  “What?”

  “The clue. Do you know where to look for the next clue?”

  “The folly. I told you.”

  Fear washed down her spine. She had been hoping that Nick had already found that clue and was working on the next one. “Yes, I suppose you did. And you said your nephew said something about ‘snuggling’? Could he maybe have meant smuggling? Gabriel did say he was upset that you wouldn’t let him explore the folly.”

  It was too dark to see the color drain from Nick’s face, but by his expression, she knew it had. “The folly is only a twenty-minute hike west from Poppledown. But I’ve gone twenty minutes to the east. Even on horseback, we’ll be lucky if we overtake him.” His shoulders sagged in defeat.

  Susannah reached out and tugged his arm gently. “Come on. Let’s go get him.”

  As they neared the sleepy seaside town, they veered west toward Beer, then south again to the seaside. Susannah’s nerves were running high, and even the sounds of the sea slapping the sand added to her anxiety. The crashing of the waves grew ever louder, and even though she knew that it was because they rode toward the sea, it seemed as though the sea were reaching a crescendo, as she had heard in dramatic musical pieces. Her worry for Gabriel was strong enough without the help from the waves.

  Nick slowed the horse on the beach and pointed up toward the folly. A faint glimmer of light gleamed from a window. They would never have seen it had they not been looking for it. It was both good news and bad. Good because it confirmed that they would find something at the folly. Bad because it meant that the something might be smugglers, who knew to keep their lighting to a minimum.

  The trail crept up the cliff, making Susannah grateful for the horse.

  As they neared the top, Nick spoke quietly. “We’ll need to keep silent on our approach. I’m going to tie the horse, and we will walk from here.” She nodded her understanding, and they both slid from the animal. Susannah waited while Nick tied the horse to a scraggly tree at the edge of the beach, and they were on the way again.

  In a moment, the folly was in sight. The moon outlined what appeared to be a miniature castle complete with turrets. There was no castle wall or moat or drawbridge, of course. Long windows decorated the sides and turrets, but there was only a single door. And that door was guarded by a giant of a man.

  Nick stared at the folly and its guard for a long moment. Susannah shivered, but whether from the cool breeze or the prospect of confronting the smugglers, she wasn’t sure.

  “It’s Jack Wickins. He knows me a little. I think we should just approach. We can’t fight our way in.”

  Susannah nodded and took a step forward to the building, anxious to get to Gabriel, but Nick grabbed her hand and pulled her back. “If Gabriel is here, it is because of the clue from Romans 8:38.”

  Susannah nodded again, impatiently this time, not understanding why he was taking the time to discuss this when his little son was being held by ruffians.

  “Earlier in the same chapter—verse 31—Paul says this, ‘If God be for us, who can be against us?’ Before we go in there, let’s pray that God will be with us.”

  Now Susannah rolled her eyes. Sure. Let’s stop and pray. There’s no hurry. Only a rabid band of smugglers holding a little boy against his will. She bit her tongue to keep the sarcasm from rolling off of it. Instead she said, “Well, get on with it.”

  Nick bowed his head, still holding on to Susannah’s hand. She bowed her head as well, though more perfunctorily than respectfully.

  “Father, be with us as we face our enemies. Deliver them and us from hatred and cruelty, and allow us to leave here with Gabriel, and if it be your will, the clue. Amen.”

  His words were simple and straightforward. Not like the flowery prayers of the Book of Common Prayer, but just as though God was a friend. She shivered again. This time because Nick’s prayer, the earnestness of it, reminded her of her father’s prayers.

  Now it was she who hesitated as he began to move toward the folly, too stunned by her memories to move with him. But he tugged a little on the hand he still held, and she sprang into action, ready to face a gang of outlaws if it meant seeing Gabriel’s smile again.

  Yet her nerves failed her when the moonlight showed the giant called Jack tipping the barrel of the musket toward them.

  Nick called out. “Oy, Jack! It’s me, Daventry.”

  The giant grunted.

  Nick tried again. “Remember when we used to scavenge the caves for anything the smugglers might have left behind? With Mark Robinson?”

  At this the giant settled the barrel of the musket back into the dirt beside him. “God rest his soul,” he ground out. His voice sounded like rusty hinges groaning from disuse.

  Nick nodded somberly. “God rest his soul indeed.”

  And then they both just stood there, sharing a reverent silence for the loss of their friend, and yet each man taking the other’s measure. Uniquely male, Susannah thought, imagining how different the scene would have been if she had been reunited with a childhood friend.

  Finally, Nick spoke again, still calmly, still reverently. “My son is missing. Have you seen him?”

  The giant’s expression remained blank. “Your son?”

  Nick n
odded. “Yes. My son.” His voice took on a greater intensity now, trying to impress a sense of urgency on the man.

  And apparently it worked, because the man jerked his head into the doorway behind him and bellowed, “Oy! Hawkins!”

  Another man, presumably Hawkins, ambled out. He was shorter than Jack by a foot, and wiry where the giant was bulky. Nevertheless, he managed to convey a sense that he was not to be trifled with. The two ruffians consulted in hushed tones, Jack jerking his head toward Susannah and Nick, and Hawkins turning beady, hardened eyes on the two of them. It was better than the musket, Susannah thought, but perhaps not by much. She was not comforted when Jack handed his musket over to the man and went inside. Her only comfort was that the gun remained pointed into the ground.

  Hawkins wasn’t any more loquacious than Jack. He stared at them as though he expected them to launch a brutal attack at any moment. Susannah remembered a story she had once read in which a band of pirates attacked and overtook a rival ship. She imagined Nick rushing the man, herself cartwheeling and kicking him, while Nick grabbed the musket and slammed the butt of it into the guard’s head.

  She stifled a giggle, drawing Nick’s attention. She waved him away. He had surprised her in many ways over the last few weeks of their acquaintance, but she was fairly confident that a pirate he was not.

  Jack’s head reappeared, and he spoke a few quiet words to Hawkins before he gestured to Nick and Susannah to follow him. They crossed the open area between the wooded cliff and the folly, and Susannah felt exposed and frightened, going into the lion’s den, as it were. She glanced at Nick, perhaps for reassurance, or even camaraderie, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead he looked straight ahead, his jaw tense with determination, a warrior set on retrieving what was his, and that image of him as a pirate came back to her. Maybe she had the wrong idea about him after all.