Born of Proud Blood

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  “Those at Collins Stead know I have been summoned by Collette this morning. Do you truly believe they will not become curious at my disappearance and come here asking questions?”

  Hodge smiled sardonically. “And don’t you think I’ve thought of that myself?”

  Gabriel raised a defiant chin. “So, what do you plan on telling them?”

  “I plan on not saying a word because I was never present at this little morning meeting, but our lovely Collette, here,” Hodge said, tilting his head in Collette’s direction, “will simply say you proposed once more, and she again refused. You left in a rage, getting a ride into town by her driver. From that point your actions are a mystery...until, that is, someone fishes your body out of the river.” He arched a brow. “I am most assured it won’t be hard for all to surmise you were so distraught over a second rejection, you decided to end your life.”

  “I’m so sorry everything turned out this way,” Collette said, her apology almost sounding genuine.

  “So am I,” he said, his arms flopping down to his sides as he slipped lower in his seat.

  “There, you see my dear, the relaxant has begun to work.” Hodge beamed. “All this will be over momentarily, and we shall be free to take our leave for lunch.”

  Gabriel slipped off the chair, his eyes locking with Collette’s dark orbs as he rolled onto his stomach. He landed face down by the hearth, feeling the warmth of the fire at his side. His fall knocked over a small shovel used for removing the ashes. The iron implement fell beside him, its length being hidden by his frame. Quickly he gripped the handle and lay very still.

  “There, it is over. Now remove him,” Hodge ordered.

  Gabriel felt a hand grip him by the back of his collar. Just as he was turned face up, his eyes shot open. Letting loose with a blood-curdling war-cry a warrior would yell as he went into battle, he struck a stunned Lionel Tubbs in the face with the shovel. He heard the other man’s nose bone crack. Tubbs stumbled back, blood pouring from his nostrils as he fell into Hodge. The two, knocked off balance, landed in a heap on the floor. Hodge cussed and sputtered his profound annoyance at the inconvenience while trying to quickly push Lionel off him.

  Gabriel sprung to his feet, glimpsing the astonished look upon Collette’s face. “This cannot be; I dropped a dose and then some of the relaxant into your brandy.”

  He did not bother to respond, his warrior reflexes fueling into fighting mode. Again he swung the shovel, dropping a heavy blow upon Lionel’s head before his adversary was able to regain his footing. Hodge, still trapped beneath the thug, shouted a command to Horace. In an instant the other Tubbs brute was on him, pushing Gabriel against a wall and fighting to wrench the shovel from his grasp. But he held firm to the only weapon he had, pushing himself away from the wall with a knee-jerk to Horace’s gut, and then a head-butt to the enemy’s forehead.

  Horace, larger and more solid than Lionel, was quick to recover from the blows and came back with a vengeance. The other man’s meaty fist slammed into Gabriel’s jawbone. Pain shot through his jowls, his vision blurred, and he fell to one knee. Shaking his head to clear it, he fought to remain conscious and struggled to stand.

  But by this time, Lionel was back on his feet and hurried to join in on the beating. He came from the rear, wrenching the shovel from Gabriel’s grasp and pinning his arms behind him. Sandwiched between the two Tubbs brothers, Gabriel was vulnerable now to whatever brutal punches Horace threw.

  Horace Tubbs sneered, his large lips curling up to reveal a toothless grin. Reaching into his hip pocket, he pulled out a small knife. Spit formed at the corners of his mouth as he brought the blade up to Gabriel’s throat. Drool spilled over his bottom lip and trickled down the left side of his unshaven chin as he pricked Gabriel’s flesh with the tip of the blade.

  “Nay, Horace, you cannot spill a drop of his blood here,” Hodge warned.

  The derelict hesitated before he reluctantly replaced the knife into his pocket. Once more he doubled his large hand into a fist and pulled his arm back to pack a wallop. But before Horace could plunge his knuckles into Gabriel’s throat, a shot rang out, and Horace went down with a bullet in his back. Just as Collette screamed, another shot followed, and behind Gabriel, Lionel fell atop him, landing them both onto the floor.

  Gabriel struggled to free himself from Lionel’s weight. A quick inventory of the other man’s condition proved the bullet entered Lionel’s skull, just between his beady little orbs. He now stared up at Gabriel with vacant eyes, blood smeared across his face from the broken nose, and another puddle forming on the floor from the fatal wound in his head. Horace also lay dead.

  Across the room another skirmish ensued as his rescuers, Simon and Rafe, wrestled Jackson Hodge to the floor. They hog tied him with rope and gagged him with his own neck-scarf.

  “You won’t be getting free from these binds, old chap,” Rafe remarked to Hodge, who was squirming like a worm on a hook. “My nautical knots are more than secure.”

  “It took you two long enough,” he said, stepping over Lionel’s body as he flexed and rubbed his sore jaw.

  “We were a bit detained,” Rafe said, replacing his gun in its holder.

  “Sorry mate,” Simon added, also stashing away his weapon. “But all is well, as it seems we got here in the nick of time.”

  “She tried to drug me with a relaxing agent so the Tubbs brothers could dump my body in the river,” Gabriel said, gesturing to the empty glass of brandy. “But when she turned her back, I emptied my glass into the plant sitting nearby.”

  Simon frowned. “How did you know the drink was drugged?”

  “Collette grew up with a drunken father, so she hates for men to drink, especially this early in the day. When she offered me a brandy, insisted I drink it all, and then offered me another, my suspicions took hold,” he explained. He frowned, looking around at the wreckage of the room. “Where is Collette?”

  Simon arched a brow. “She was here a moment ago.”

  “Not to worry,” Rafe said. “She isn’t going to get too far on foot and in the pouring rain, dressed in all that satin finery and clad only in a pair of linen pumps.”

  Gabriel arched a brow. “You noticed what she was wearing during all this.”

  “It comes with being married,” Rafe said. “My wife has educated me to fashion whether I like it or not.”

  He stifled a grin.

  “The reason we were slightly detained was because we were helping Oliver,” Simon explained. “He was trying to take on a couple of drivers by himself.”

  “But now the pair are tied up as secure as this chap,” Rafe added, indicating Hodge with a wave of his hand. “Without their drivers, the carriages aren’t going anywhere and neither is Collette.”

  A woman’s agonizing scream brought them all into motion, the three hurrying out of the mansion and down the front lawn’s path to where the commotion was taking place. There they found Collette face down in a puddle, clothes soaked from the deluge rained upon them. Straddling her back was Suzanna Wellington, also looking as drenched as a drowned rat, with her dark hair pasted flat to her to face and eyes wide with wild rage. She was striking Collette about the head and shoulders with her fists.

  “What the hell is Lady Wellington doing here?” he said.

  Rafe shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.” He turned to Simon. “Did you call for reinforcements again?”

  Simon frowned. “Nay, it wasn’t me.”

  “You will pay for the humiliation you caused me!” Lady Wellington entwined her wet fingers around a long curl and tore it free from Collette’s scalp.

  Collette screamed in agony, “Get her off of me!” Coughing and sputtering each time her head was pushed into the puddle, she choked out, “Someone, I beg, have mercy.”

  “You deserve nay a shred of mercy!” Lady Wellington pulled from Collette’s bloody scalp another large hunk of hair.

  “Please, help me! Someone help me!” Collette screeched.

 
It took two of Lady Wellington’s men to pull her free, and she kicked and cursed all the way to the carriage she came in, “I want the bitch stripped and beaten, do you hear me? Stripped and beaten!”

  Collette remained on the ground, too hurt and dazed to move. Simon and Rafe pulled her to her feet. Scotland Yard’s men arrived at this point and bound Collette’s hands before they asked questions and demanded to see the crime scene. Simon and Rafe led them inside, where they could conduct a full investigation. Collette was arrested and taken away. By this time she practically needed to be carried. Along with her went the drivers and Hodge. All would be spending the first night of many in Newgate Prison.

  Turning to make his own way into the mansion and out of the pouring rain, Gabriel spotted her, standing beneath a large tree. He smiled. “Ah, so it was you who brought the extra men?”

  “Aye,” Riley said, folding her arms in front of her.

  “You are truly a brave woman, coming to my aid as you did,” he said, making his way nearer.

  “You once did the same for me.” Her large, green eyes locked with his. Her voice quivered. “Thank God you’re all right.”

  Closer now to her, he was better able to take in her appearance. Riley’s cape hung wet over her shoulders, soaking through to the blouse she wore. Her ginger tresses clung in limp ringlets about her shoulders. Her full lips, purplish-blue in color, trembled as she shivered uncontrollably. “But you won’t be if you stay out in the cold, soaked to the bone in those clothes,” he said, gathering her into his arms and carrying her into the mansion. With everyone busy in the parlor, arguing over whom should remove the dead men, no one noticed him making his way up the stairs to Collette’s chamber.

  “Nay, don’t take me in there,” Riley protested through chattering teeth. “I don’t want to see where the two of you laid, where you...you and her...” she stammered, her words clipped by irrepressible sobs.

  He ignored her objections, kicking the door shut behind them with a booted foot. He sat her on the bed and removed her wet cape. Her blouse was just as saturated. “I need to get you out of these clothes immediately, Riley.” He fumbled with the buttons as he unfastened the first three at her collar.

  “Nay, you can’t do this, Gabriel,” she pleaded. “Not to me, not to me.”

  “I am not doing anything but trying to help you,” he said, unfastening two more buttons.

  Her cold fingers clamped over his. “Nay, I am not like her, do not treat me like you do her.”

  Her words froze him. He blinked, stepped back, and looked down at the beautiful and frightened young woman who was gazing up at him. “I did not mean...I only wanted...” He lowered himself to a kneeling position. “Forgive me, Riley. I honestly had no dishonorable intentions in mind.” Reaching out to her, he caressed her porcelain complexion, tenderly running the tip of his finger down her cheek, to her neck. Her delicate and pale splendor was soft to the touch, too soft, too tempting. Abruptly he pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. “But if you do not get free from these wet garments, you will certainly catch your death.” He combed his fingers through his own wet hair. “And I could not bear that, Riley...not again...not ever again, I already have lost one I love.”

  She slid off the bed and into his arms. Burying her face under his neck, she wept. Her tears undid him, and he ached for her deep within his being.

  There was nothing now he would not do for her. There was no way he could ever leave her. At this moment his heart claimed her, she was his, and he knew he could not...did not want to be without her. As he held her cold, trembling body close to his, he whispered, “I must get you out of these wet clothes, Riley.” He felt her nod, and together they stood. He then reached for a quilt draped at the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her. Reaching beneath the quilt, once again he tried to unfasten the rest of the buttons. It was even harder to accomplish without looking.

  “To hell with all these damn buttons,” he muttered, ripping the blouse away from her cold, wet, flesh. Then he tore the camisole and threw it aside.

  She burrowed against him, her naked breasts now firmly against his own drenched shirt.

  He did not look down, though every fiber in his being yearned to glimpse her full, round bosom. His passion mounted as he desired to cup each one in the palm of his hand, warm and suckle a hard peak with his lips. Swallowing hard, he picked her up and placed her on the bed. Before joining her he stripped off his waistcoat and shirt. Then he climbed in beside her and gathered her once again into his embrace, heating her flesh with his own.

  “This morning you promised to join me in the library, and I believed you. You said you would not go to her,” she said softly.

  “I did not go to her,” he said, tightening his grasp.

  “And yet you are here.”

  “As you might have noticed, Simon, Rafe, and Oliver are here as well,” he pointed out.

  She pulled back to look at him. “If you knew you were walking into a trap, why did you come? Why not just call the authorities?”

  “It would have taken too long. I needed to catch the rogues while they believed they were catching me,” he explained. “I wanted it to be over so they could never hurt anyone again.”

  “And how did you figure out Collette’s summoning you was a ruse?”

  He smiled. “I have Addie to thank for that.”

  She frowned. “Addie? What does she have to do with anything?”

  “After you left the dining room, Addie entered holding the card that accompanied Collette’s flowers. Marked on the front of the envelope were the words, Congratulations Sunny and Captain Cavendish. Addie recognized the writing as the same hand that scripted the note sent from your so-called father, which she brought to you the morning you were abducted.”

  Her frown deepened. “But Addie has never really learned to read.”

  “I would say that fact alone was to her favor in this case, and probably why she detected the similarity so quickly. She views words like we do pictures, since she cannot make out their meaning.” He chuckled lightly. “Of course, the way she loves to stick her nose in other people’s business also helped.”

  She joined in on his mirth. “I would say, for once, Addie’s prattling in other folk’s affairs has worked out well. I have nay a doubt she found someone to fetch the authorities as well, else why would they be here?”

  “Now, suppose you tell me how you knew I was walking into a trap,” he said.

  “Much the same as Addie, I’d say. When I joined Sunny for lunch in her chamber, I admired the pink blooms Collette sent and spotted the card beside them. After reading her note the first time, I remembered such a script from before but could not place where I’d seen it. Whenever you received word from Collette in the past, Regis would bring the message to you, or to your chamber. So, I hadn’t ever seen her handwriting. Yet I believed somehow I had, so I searched my brain for the answer.” She widened her eyes. “And then it came to me with startling clarity. Collette’s script and Kevin Delaney’s were one in the same. That meant Collette was in on the kidnappings and hoped to sink her clutches into you for breaking up the operation.” She sighed. “I realized with a sickening fear you were in grave danger. I didn’t want to frighten Sunny, so I kept my findings quiet. But I did inquire on Simon, Rafe, and Oliver’s whereabouts, knowing it would take too much time to get the authorities involved. However, when Sunny informed me they had all departed Collins Stead shortly after you, I went to Lady Wellington for help.”

  “It was a wise move, since Lord Wellington supplied reinforcements before when they were needed,” he said.

  She nodded. “That was my thought exactly. Besides Susanna and I agreed, even though we don’t move in the same circles, that if either of us needed help, the other would oblige.” She giggled. “It didn’t take much to persuade her, once she knew Collette was part of her abduction and humiliation. Lady Wellington couldn’t wait to get her hands on Collette.”

  He laughed. “Yes, I saw tha
t for myself.”

  Riley’s face grew somber. “Did it hurt you awfully much to learn of her actions?”

  “Only because any betrayal from someone you know stings,” he said. “But that hurt had nothing at all to do with me still having any feelings for Collette.” He took an audible breath. “If anything, I ached for all the women who have been taken from their homes, abused, or killed because of Collette’s actions.”

  “Are you positively sure, Gabriel?”

  “I am more than positively sure, Riley,” he said, planting a tiny kiss upon the tip of her nose. “And, my little half-naked beauty, if I do not release you and leave the room while you dress yourself in something dry, I am afraid I will be moved to show you just how much feeling I have for you.”

  Riley bit her bottom lip. “And what shall I dress in?”

  He pointed to a large wardrobe at the far end of the chamber. “Take your pick.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, Gabriel, I couldn’t.”

  He arched a brow. “Why not?”

  “Well, because...because I shouldn’t...it wouldn’t be proper to...”

  “It is not like she will know.” He chuckled. “And in truth she is not going to need any of her clothes where she is going.” He shrugged. “Besides, you just need something to wear long enough to see you to Collins Stead.”

  She smiled, giving him a slight push with the palm of a hand. “Then go. Get yourself out of here, so we can go home.”

  He returned her smile. “Going home sounds mighty good to me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Gabriel had counted the days until he returned to Collins Stead. After the horrible take-down of Collette Halston and the rest of her rogues, he was even more cautious for the women in his life. Collette’s rampage might be over, but other diabolical people could easily take her place. That was the very reason, after the twins had their baptismal celebration, he helped escort Sunny and her family back to Brighton. Though Rafe would sooner die before he would allow any harm to come to Sunny and the babies and could rightly hold his own in dangerous times, Gabriel thought an extra pair of hands and eyes would not hurt. But the few weeks he remained at Bentwood became agonizing, until his sister, with hands on hips and sounding an awful lot like his mother, demanded he leave Brighton and return to the woman he belonged beside. The truth was he worried for Riley’s safety as well, for she once had been a target for Collette’s dealings. Precisely why he left Simon and Oliver, as well as Charles, in charge of making sure all the women at Collins Stead were well watched over.