Madness

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  “I don’t have to have you naked to—”

  “No, but every time I think I’ve got my knickers on safely, I lose them again.”

  He laughed. “I can’t help it if you’re careless. Perhaps you should fasten the tapes better.”

  She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “As if that ever stops you, darling. I swear you could untie the Gordian knot with those deft fingers of yours. No, I think the only way they’d stay on is if they were made of iron, with a padlock and key.”

  He took her hand and kissed it, running his tongue along the back and palm sensually. “Ah, but then I’d have the most marvelous time trying to pick it open with my tool.”

  She laughed throatily.

  “Or my hands,” he said, kneeling at her feet and sliding his head and hands over the fronts and backs of her thighs, rucking up her ball gown with purposeful intent. “In fact, I think I know something that might unlock you right now.”

  “Oh Simon, really.”

  He began tonguing the silk, making her already damp drawers saturated with need.

  “And you’re going to kiss me all night and taste us on your lips, and it’s going to be so arousing I might just take you out into the garden after all and....”

  A tap at their door interrupted their lovemaking and they broke apart hastily.

  Randall’s voice came through the door, mildly exasperated. “I say you two, we need to form the reception line downstairs. So if you can tear yourselves away from that bed long enough, and are half way decently dressed, will you please come down?”

  “Oh, Simon, Simon, Simon,” she said in an increasingly urgent tone, making him blush.

  He gave her a mildly reproachful look, and put Randall out of his misery by opening the door.

  Randall’s open mouth snapped shut at last. “Phew. That's a relief. You wags, teasing me like that. I was really starting to get worried about you two. You look wonderful, by the way, both of you. I love the matching waistcoat, so like her eyes.”

  They fell in step with each other down the long corridor. “If you could please come down for two hours and promise me you won’t dance every dance with each other?”

  “Yes, Randall,” she said meekly, trying not to look at Simon.

  But her cousin caught the look. “And no slipping out into the shrubbery. For I plan to take Isolde there later myself.”

  Simon gave a lusty groan, but Randall sensed the danger and grasped both their arms firmly to lead them down to the foyer to greet all the Rakehells.

  She had ascertained beforehand that Simon danced as well as he did everything else, and led the opening dance in front of nearly the entire Rakehell set. Everyone admired the striking couple, and looked forward to getting to know them better.

  After the first dance, Simon was claimed as a partner by Isolde, and Gabrielle’s heart swelled with pride as she watched him. She could tell all the women admired him, but there was no need to be jealous. They were all happily married, and he was as polite and deferential with her cousins' wives as he was with the Dowager Lady Hazelmere.

  She renewed her acquaintance with all the Rakehells who managed to attend, the original three founding members, Thomas, the Duke of Ellesmere, Clifford Stone, owner of the impressive Stone Court, and Jonathan Deveril, the vicar of Brimley and Eltham.

  The only Rakehells missing were Philip Marshall and Alistair Grant, in London at their law practice, and Alexander Davenport, in Ireland visiting Thomas’s sister Elizabeth and her husband Will.

  All the men had to admit Simon was a remarkably bright chap, and all came away with the vague impression that they had met him somewhere before.

  The Rakehell wives were not in the least catty, and made Gabrielle feel truly welcome. They teased her about the wonderful man she would be marrying soon.

  She certainly hoped so—but now was not the time to speak with the vicar about their rather difficult predicament. There would be time enough in any case. As Simon had said, they would know when the time was right to wed.

  So Gabrielle relaxed, and had a wonderfully diverting evening, with no really awkward moments for either of them. Many of the Rakehells made her promise to call with Isolde or Bryony some time in the near future.

  But soon she gave her man the nod, and they slipped away from the crowd. She was more than eager for Simon after the hours she had been forced to behave herself.

  “Oh, I’ve created a monster. You’re insatiable,” he panted as she flattened him up against the back of the door to their bedchamber and began to divest him of his evening clothes with an astonishing rapidity, letting the expensive garments pool to the floor unheeded.

  “So are you. I’m not the one who wanted to forgo the entire ball.”

  “Oh yes you were.”

  “And I’m not the one who drooled all over your knickers. An oversight I’m going to make up for right this minute,” she added with a grin when she saw him begin to look a bit shame-faced.

  He stayed her head and hands for a moment. “But seriously, you would tell me if you weren’t in the mood, or it was a bad monthly or I did something really upsetting or shocking—”

  She shook her head vehemently. “But you never would! Stop doubting yourself all the time. It’s all right. We’re happy and safe that’s all any of us can ever hope for.

  "I love you, Simon, always. You’ve never given me a moment’s cause for worry. You’re getting better all the time, darling. You've had no fits for a while apart from that big one, and we’re truly happy. Never doubt that for a minute. Or if you do, just ask me. And I will tell you the same thing a hundred years from now, my darling Simon. I love you.”

  He caressed her cheek, and never in all his life had he said words that he meant more. “I love you too.”

  “I’m so glad. Now where were we, Simon? Ah, yes. Drooling all over your pulsating c—”

  Her mouth full, she didn’t complete her sentence, but it was certainly a perfect end to a wonderful evening for both of them.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Spring turned to summer at Barkston House, and Gabrielle and Simon had never been happier.

  Simon’s nightmares had ceased completely, and he was taking on more and more work for both Randall and Michael, who could not fail to be impressed with their cousin’s fiance.

  Even some of the Rakehell neighbours began to ask for his business expertise, first Lawrence Howard, the tea trader, and a couple of days later, Lawrence's brother-in-law Matthew Dane, who was also Randall’s closest friend and had heard all about Simon directly from him.

  “I’ve got my other new brother-in-law coming to Somerset soon to set up in business too,” Lawrence said. “I'm sure he would also be able to use those prodigious accounting skills of yours once they settle in the district."

  Simon inclined his head deferentially. "You're too kind."

  "Not at all. In fact, if you’d like to consider investing in the tea trade, I would be more than happy, and can guarantee a nice tidy profit."

  "Indeed, I've heard so much about the success of your tea rooms in Bath, I would be a fool not to jump at your offer."

  Lawrence's dark brows knit, but he smiled. "Now who is being kind."

  "It's true."

  "I need to give credit where it's due, however. I was all set to take London by storm. My wife was the one who suggested the tea rooms in Bath," Lawrence said with obvious love and respect for his wife.

  "She's a credit to you, and her gender, just like my own dear partner of the heart."

  "And you know," Lawrence said pensively, "there is also Juliet’s old wine trading business to run, if you were interested. She had her sister Miranda and a couple of people minding it for her, but Miranda has so many other interests now that she is wed… Hmm. It would be a shame to let it fall by the wayside."

  Simon nodded, hoping he didn't appear too eager. Talk about the perfect post… "Indeed."

  "We could really use someone with a good head and nose, if you've a
liking for wine and the occasional spot of travel to France.”

  Simon's head swam, this time with joy. "I can't think of anything I would like better, except an even more lucrative way or two to support my wife and her sister. Thank you."

  Simon was astonished at how kind all of the Rakehells were in trying to help him stand on his own two feet.

  Lawrence was surprised to hear that Simon deemed himself responsible for Lucinda, but this piece of information made him admire him all the more.

  "So it’s settled then?" Lawrence asked, offering his hand.

  “I think so. Both the tea trade and the wine enterprise sound splendid. I’ll discuss them with Gabrielle, of course, but I'm sure she will be thrilled. So long as you know that Randall has first claim upon my services after all he’s done to help us, I think we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement that will take the burden off you and your wife.”

  “Of course. I quite understand. Very commendable indeed. Not everyone would show such loyalty.” Lawrence’s silvery eyes were full of admiration.

  “Well, he’s also family.”

  The tea trader nodded. “Yes, of course. All of we Rakehells do try to be. We are delighed to know you. In case I’ve not said it properly before, welcome to the district. Speaking as a relative newcomer here myself, I just hope you’re as happy here as we’ve been.”

  Simon returned the warm smile. “I have been indeed. I’m even more so thanks to your vote of confidence and kind offer. As I’ve said, let me talk it over with Gabrielle, and I’ll give you an answer soon.”

  Lawrence shook hands and departed, leaving Simon to go in search of Gabrielle.

  She was thrilled at the news and prospect of the wine. “We could even get to go home to Dorset to—”

  Simon clapped his hand to his head and began to tumble toward the carpetted floor of the study. She caught him before he fell and managed to heave him into a chair.

  “My God, Simon. It’s been so long since you had any funny turns,” she said worriedly. “Since our little Christopher was born.”

  He said in a reedy whisper, “I remembered something, that was all. Well, not remembered exactly, because I don’t think it’s happened yet. But I saw, well, ships. Hundreds of French ships, carrying thousands of soldiers.”

  Gabrielle paled. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “But what on earth could it mean?”

  “A possible future? Or my worst nightmare. That message I sent—”

  "Aye, free the eagle."

  "That's it."

  "We sent an anonymous note to the Foreign Office from the coaching inn in Reading, remember? We did give them warning. You even put in a code word they would have known to try to prove it was from our side, and that you had not turned traitor. Surely they wouldn't have just ignored it."

  "I don't know."

  "And they haven't come looking for you, either side."

  "Or maybe they just haven't found me yet, but—" He spread his hands wide.

  Gabrielle paced up and down, trying not to let the fear get the better of her. “No, it is just a bad dream. It has to be. Even if we thought there was going to be a French invasion of England as a result of what you did, what else can we do? Who else can we warn at this point if they didn't pay any mind to the last message months ago? Think, Simon. No one would ever believe us on the basis of your having what, a headache, and it would be putting you at unacceptable risk to try to pursue the matter further.”

  He sighed. “I just hate the idea of sitting around doing nothing.”

  She paused and folded her arms in front of her. She resisted the urge to chafe them up and down with her hands against the sudden chill. “I don’t see that we have a choice. We just have to pray you’re wrong.”

  He sat looking pensive, clutching his brow with one hand and chewing his lower lip.

  “Perhaps this is just a sign to not take Lawrence’s offer, attractive though it may be. I think, despite the attractiveness of the offer, that it would be far too risky for you to ever go back France given the circumstances. The easiest way to find you would be to check all of your old haunts. You heard about Alexander Davenport nearly being killed by unscrupulous relatives for his inheritance because he was so badly injured he had lost his memory as well as his sight. They spotted him, and pounced before he and Sarah were even aware there was aught amiss.”

  He lifted his hand and looked at her for a moment before he nodded. “You’re right, of course. Going back and forth to the Continent again is out of the question. Someone might recognise me, take me captive for their own purposes.

  "And I’m supposed to have been poisoned, remember? Dead."

  She shuddered. "Don't remind me."

  "Who knows how long it took them to find the body. Or clean up the mess they made. If they didn't look too closely at Spence's body, or know me, we might be away scot free. But if they find out I'm still alive, well—"

  Gabrielle caressed his shoulder as she completed the thought for him. "If they discover you are still alive, then you and everyone else in this house is in danger. They failed the first time. They could always try again.”

  “So we can invest in the tea. Anything to keep you happy and safe.” He got to his feet in a bound, and hugged her hard.

  She asked after a time, “Better?”

  “Mmm, much better, apart from the throb in my head. Have we got any rosewater?”

  “Surely.” She took his hand and led him up to their room. She bathed his temples while his head rested in her lap.

  “I love the smell. It reminds me of you.”

  She smiled fondly. “You and your roses. Apparently Jonathan Deveril’s brother in law is a real expert too. We shall have to put the two of you together some time. When he gets back from Ireland, perhaps. I hear he takes first prize at the local fair every year, even the County ones. You can try to give him a run for his money this year.”

  He grinned. “I’ll be very pleased to meet him when the time comes. But no one could ever come close to my roses, not even my dear Mama. Now if you could just give me one of your wonderful honeyed kisses, I think I’ll be a new man.”

  She complied happily.

  He sat up and curled into her body. “Mmm, much better now.”

  “It is true, though. You are getting better every day. This is the first seizure you’ve had in ages, and there have been no nightmares or blank spells. You have a new name and life, Simon Drake, and the Dowager and all the children adore you. Not to mention Randall and Lawrence thinking you’re the most wonderful miracle worker on their accounts and investments.”

  He looked moderately pleased with himself. “Your cousins and their friends have been most kind. I should very much like to repay them. Now that the weather is so fine, I should love to have a picnic in the woods one day.”

  “And I know just the spot. Millcote Forest. Randall and Isolde have the most wonderful watercolour in their room which he gave her as a gift when the triplets were born. I’d very much like to see it in person. It looks a most magical place."

  "It sounds wonderful." He reached up to pull her down to him for a quick kiss. "Wonderful like you, my dear."

  She stroked his cheek and hair lovingly.

  “Well, now that our business dealings would appear to be all settled, what do you think about your sister Lucinda? I mean, I’m not complaining at all, of course. I'm more than happy to support her and Christopher with whatever they need. I just wondered if it might not be possible to pull her out of herself a bit more? Get her to come with us? And perhaps even work with us on our new enterprises?”

  “I can ask. But you know how she hates to leave the house, the baby. She loves being with the children, though, so if we have the entire clan out for the day, she shall have to come.”

  “Now that sounds like a rather clever idea. She can’t possibly refuse to come if everyone is going.” He grinned from ear to ear like a happy school boy.

  �
��You really are remarkable, Simon, you know that?”

  He blinked and gave a shy smile. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve that, but thank you, ma cherie.”

  “It’s because you don’t realise how special you are that you’re even more so. I’ve never met a more kind and decent man. You go out of your way to make other people happy. You never even think about yourself. And you can’t even seem to grasp the, well, evil in the world, because you are so utterly lacking in any you can’t recognise it in others.”

  Simon shook his head. “That’s not true. I saw too much evil in the war. I want to create a better world for us all, and where better to start than oneself? I have no control over all the nasty and foul things that other people choose to do to one another, but I have a choice about how I wish to live. How I treat the people I care about, the people I love."