“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 drawingroom 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.
Evening was rapidly approaching, though it was so dark outside that it was actually hard to tell that it had not descended already, so Simon paused only long enough to make sure Lucinda was settled comfortably, then hurried back to the coach.
He removed the rest of the food, the medicines Bryony and Isolde had put on their shopping lists, a few changes of clothes for all three of them, the baby’s layette set, and the rest of the new sheets and towels they had purchased for the Earl's establishment, but which would more than come in handy now.
He first found a chemise in the clothing pile and handed it to Gabrielle for Lucinda to put on, and eventually located a fresh shirt, drawers and trousers for himself.
“I’m just going to go behind this screen here. You tell me when it’s safe to come out.”
Lucinda laughed. “I’m not going to have any modesty at all after this. But I don’t mind if it’s for the baby. I mean, it is only natural and beautiful after all, right?”
“That’s exactly right,” he said with conviction.
Gabrielle was sure she had to be dreaming. Lucinda was speaking in full sentences, and she and Simon were engaging in some witty repartee.
“Here, dearest, get out of that wet frock. And do you think you could manage some tea and a bite to eat?” she asked her sister.
“It’s not that painful. At least not yet. I’ll be fine.”
Fenton had just arrived, and seeing the lay of the land, took his cup and a sandwich and headed back out the door as suddenly as he had arrived. “I’m going to see if I can find anyone. Strange, in a lovely house like this, that there’s no one home.”
Gabrielle smiled at him, grateful for his tact and calm demeanor in the face of such a crisis. “If you do run into anyone, apologise and explain.”
“Don’t worry, Miss, I will.”
He came back a short time later with a bottle of brandy he thought the young lady could use for the pain, and more sheets, towels, and some blankets.
He said her had found no one amid all his searching, and told them he would be back with a doctor as soon as he could.
They wished him luck and listened as the door closed behind him, and the hooves soon began to clatter off down the long drive.
For a time the only sounds in the room were the rustling of clothes as the three drenched people changed, and the howl of the wind outside. It set the fire to crackling and popping, and soughed like an animal in its death throes.
“I’m certainly glad we’re not out on the road. A tree falling in this weather would have been the end of us,” Lucinda commented.
Gabrielle shivered.
“No, we’re safe here. There are no trees to come crashing down on us, the roof is sound, we have food and warmth and all we need. Each other,” Simon said from behind the screen.
“Still, Randall and everyone will be worried.”
“It’s all right. Fenton will put their minds at ease once he gets back to Barkston House. So long as you’re not worried about the baby.”
“Just about me dying, as I’ve said.”
Gabrielle shot her sister a look of alarm.
“And I’ve told you, Lucinda, you’re not leaving us,” Simon said firmly. “You’re going to raise this baby and be happy with our new family, and with a decent husband one day who will adore you both forever.”
Lucinda grimaced. “That would mean getting rid of the old one first. The bast—”
“Lucinda!” Gabrielle remonstrated.
“Well, he is," she said, sticking out her lower lip in a mutinous pout. "I hate him. He’s never going to touch me or this baby, ever. You have to promise me. Both of you.”
“You know the law as well as I do,” Gabrielle said with a sigh. “If he comes for you, it will be hard to gainsay him unless Randall and Alistair can speed through your divorce.”
Lucinda looked at Simon beseechingly.
Simon vowed, “I promise, I’ll see Oxnard dead before he will ever take the child away from you or try to claim you or any other innocent woman as his wife."
"Wife? Victim, more like," Lucinda said with a twist of his lips.
Again. Gabrielle stared. It was more than she had ever admitted, in all the time she had been married…..
"But you have to realize there will be consequences in defying him," Simon warned. "And everything is as the gods choose.”
Gabrielle listened to their exchange silently. She had never known either of them to be especially religious. Well, this night was so fierce, she supposed it was only natural to think about gods and demons.
The house fairly shook and rattled with each successive burst of wind and rain. It was as if all nature had gone mad and was exerting its fury on the hapless earth.
Simon smiled over at her reassuringly now, and whispered, “Try not to look so worried. I’m not going to let Lucinda die. Do you hear me, Sister? I would never want my lovely wife to ever suffer what I had to go through in losing my siblings, do you understand? It will be well.”
He went over to the tea tray and poured for them both, then put together a plate of sandwiches for each of them.
“I must say, you play the host extremely well,” Gabrielle praised.
It was so strange, almost as if he belonged there, she reflected, as she watched him sitting there in his trousers, with the collar of his shirt open, wearing the slippers he had put on while his boots dried by the fire.
“Here, I’ll hang your clothes to dry. Eat up, the pair of you. It’s going to be a long night.” He flashed a wink at Lucinda that had her giggling like a two-year-old. “A longer night for some of us than others,” he added.
He leaned over to kiss Gabrielle as passionately as if they had been alone together, causing her to blush. Then he cupped her rump lustily, and she felt herself go on fire.
“I’m sure there’s a decent bedroom or two upstairs if you want to go lie down and get a bit of privacy,” Lucinda teased.
“Don’t be silly,” Gabrielle said, completely flustered. “Simon, really, what must she think of us?”
“That you two are in love. And that I’m so glad that carnal relations aren’t as disgusting for everyone as they were for me.”
“Disgusting?” Gabrielle echoed, appalled, not wanting to know, but also tempted to avail herself of this first opportunity she had been afforded to find out what had really happened to her sister. What had been so terrible that it had actually spurred her into madness.
This was the first time she had seen Lucinda lucid since her marriage to Oxnard. Once she had come back from the honeymoon, she had been, well, haunted…
So as Lucinda lay there in the throes of labor, with Simon and Gabrielle holding one hand apiece, she ate, drank tea, and told them the entire horrible truth about her marriage.
“Oxnard was always certain never to leave any outward signs of what he had done. Arms and legs could be hidden under clothing. A black eye or split lip, people would have wondered.
"And his friends. They were just as bad. Appalling. I tried to fight them off. But it was all too easy for them. They were so practised at it, don’t you see?"
Gabrielle barely managed to hold on to the contents of her stomach at all her sister was revealing to her.
“You were right about Oxnard all along. I heard you and Antony talking. He did do away with his other wives. I saw them. They told me. Their ghosts encouraged me to try to escape, but I wouldn’t listen. I was too ashamed. Oxnard said it was all my fault for being an ugly whore. He also said no one would ever believe me anyway. And that he as my husband could do whatever he liked with me. Money, body, and soul.”
“Oh, you poor child,” Simon sighed, his eyes brimming with tears.
“When I wasn’t the object of his attentions, he would make me watch what he did with others, just as his friends watched us. Men, women, children of both genders as young as seven or eight. It was appalling. The more I protested and struggled, the worse it got," she admitted in a ragged whisper.
“I eventually realized it was only fun for him if he thought he was breaking my spirit, degrading me. I think he might also have been drugging me to keep me from running away and going to the authorities with
what I knew.
"I tried to hint, and even come right out to ask the servants for help, but they lived in terror of Oxnard and his companions. Some of the footmen were in league with him anyway, complicit in all his crimes, so there was little help there even if one of them had been willing to help me escape.”
She sniffed, and on a caught sob gasped, “I have to be honest now. I don’t even know who the father of this baby is. I don’t think it was Oxnard. He used a lot of other things most of the time because he often couldn’t, well, couldn't manage himself, if you know what I mean."
Gabrielle stared in confusion, but Simon nodded. "So he was impotent, from drink and other things?" he guessed.
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