Madness

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  “Intrude?” Gabrielle said with a laugh. “Randall and Michael are my cousins, and so is Matthew’s wife Althea. We’re all one big family. You’ve always treated us like that, ever since we came here when Simon was so ill. It’s even more true now that we know the everything at last.”

  “Yes, do please come up to the house. Juliet and Lawrence will be only too pleased, I promise,” Miranda reassured them.

  Thus the picnic moved indoors and a short time later, Eswara and her son Ash came with their spouses to join what looked to be a rather exciting Rakehell gathering.

  “Well, I have to say everything you’ve told us is quite remarkable,” Ash Paington said with a fond smile down at his lovely wife Ellen, a statuesque blonde who was swathed in a most elegant sapphire blue sari which made her blue eyes look enormous.

  “There’s only one more piece of information you might like to hear to put an end to this chapter in all your lives.”

  “Oh, what’s that?” George asked with interest.

  “Ellen and I just heard it in Bath and came straight home to tell everyone the news.”

  “Come on now, lad, out with it,” his step-father Martin laughed.

  “All I can say is I hope you have champagne, Lawrence, for we shall all want to celebrate in earnest now."

  "Oh?"

  "For not only have the three brothers been reunited at last, after all these years, but I have even more momentous news. Let's toast to your good fortune, and Europe’s,” Ash said with barely suppressed excitement.

  Philip Marshall came charging in at precisely that moment, and managed to upstage the handsome young man. “I say, everyone, you’re never going to believe what I just heard in Bristol!”

  Ash was nothing if not gracious, and didn’t mind when Philip, scarcely pausing for breath, said, “I was looking everywhere for all of you. The news just came to England from St. Helena. Napoleon is dead.”

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  One could have heard a pin drop after Philip Marshall’s remarkable announcement that Napoleon Bonaparte really was dead. That they would never have to fear invasion or another war again.

  “Oh, thank God,” Jonathan said with equal parts of devotion and rancour.

  Simon concurred, and knew how heartfelt the vicar’s sentiments were. Three years in the army had convinced Jonathan that Napoleon was the Devil incarnate, though it had also shown him the road to salvation, and set him on his current career path as a vicar.

  All the Rakehells, in fact, has suffered because of the war. But now it was over. And he was truly free from his puppetmasters at last.

  He looked at Gabrielle now, who met his gaze and smiled with obvious relief.

  “Are you sure? Really sure?” George rasped, feeling an incredible sense of unreality creep over him.

  Ash Paignton and his wife nodded.

  Philip confirmed it. “Certain. It’s in the official dispatches, signed and sealed. No mere false rumour, but fully confirmed. It’s all over, ladies and gentleman. The Emperor is no more. Long live the King, England, and the Rakehells.”

  “Here, here!”

  “Hip, hip!

  “Hurrah!” everyone echoed, and then the hugging, kissing and weeping of joyful tears began in earnest. They drank toast after toast, sang, danced, and were numb with excitement and disbelief.

  Simon's head spun dizzily. He was glad he was sitting with his two brothers, for he feared he would have fallen otherwise.

  All of the long, dark years of service, intelligence gathering, imprisonment, torture, all seemed to fall away now as he sat gripping both of them by the arm. They were solid, real.

  This was no mere dream any longer. His quest for freedom, and the brothers he had lost, was finally at an end.

  He glanced across at Gabrielle, getting to know Miranda and Sarah, their new sisters in law. And at baby Christopher, who was being dandled by Blake's wife Arabella, and Ash's young wife Ellen, who reminded him very much of Lucinda, resting next door in the small parlor, but who would make a full recovery, according to Blake, so long as no infection set in.

  His family, old and new. And a bright future with Lawrence in the tea trade, or Juliet in the wine trade, which had once been the life's blood of his family until the war. He wouldn't be at all surprised if these had been some of their own routes and partners down in Dorset.

  Alexander and he had never troubled to seek out the family fortune, but George was a much more canny man of business. He had invested it well, and made a great deal more during the war at his theatre. The brothel he had run as a cover for spies had apparently also been successful, but he had never touched a penny of it, giving it all to the girls who worked there, and later making many generous donations to the Bethnal Green clinic where Antony Herriot worked.

  Simon was sorry Antony was not at the family gathering, but he knew how busy the young man was with his Herculean task of helping the poor in London.

  "We shall have to write to Antony, tell him all our good news," Simon said to her.

  She looked surprised, but pleased.

  "After all, he was the one who told you what to do to relieve opium addiction, even though he thought you were mad for ever trying to help me at Bedlam."

  "He didn't understand, that's all. I didn't either. I never knew there could be so many evil people in the world trying to profit from war and the suffering of others. Keeping you there like, like an animal for whenever they needed you."

  He nodded and sighed. "They tormented George into doing their bidding all these years in the hopes of finding the two of us again. And kept Alexander in the service in the same way. He's been in the most danger of all, on active service. Even so many years after Waterloo, there are still plots and strategems afoot to help re-build the Empire."

  "Well, it's all to no avail now, for they have no Emperor. He's dead now, and good riddance," she said stoutly. "If I weren't such a lady in such a lovely parlor, I'd jolly well spit."

  He nodded. "As George did when Oxnard fell to his death. Such a man as that, well, disgusting."

  "Aye, but as powerful as they both seemed, they're both dead, and we're still here, and in love, and happy. We've won, Simon. We've won. It really is all over now, and the future, our future, can be exactly as you choose."

  He gripped her in a fierce embrace which left no doubt as to what they both desired most in their immediate future.

  "And I have you to thank for it all. You saved my life—"

  She put one finger on his lush lips. "You saved Lucinda and Christopher. We're even."

  "Come over here, you two, and tell us again how you met," George commanded, sliding over and patting the widened empty space on the sofa which Simon had recently vacated.

  Simon and Gabrielle were thrilled to be with their new family, and the brothers almost looked as though they didn’t want to let the others out of their sight.

  But soon the pressure of romance caused them to separate into three couples who crept out of the drawing room to share some deeper and more private emotions of their own.

  They went outside into the arbor Lawrence had constructed for his wife, and held each other tenderly, overwhelmed by the news.

  “Is it really over at last?” Gabrielle asked him softly when he finally lifted his lips.

  He nodded, and held her close to his hammering heart. “Over, and just beginning. I promise you, darling, I'm going to make the best life possible for all of us. I know it won’t be easy. I have no idea what plans Georges, er, George, or Jason, er, Alexander have, but I would want us to all be together as near to one another as possible.”

  “Well, we can stay with my family for as long as we like while you move back into the world again at last. We don’t have to decide everything at once. Little steps. But I recall Lawrence asking for you to help with the wine trade, so there’s no harm in asking if he’s still interested in one or more helpers.”

  “That’s right. Only how will he feel about me being Simon D’Ambois?�
��

  She shook his head. “I’m sure he won’t mind. I might be very nervous, though. I’m still so afraid they might come for you.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t live in fear any longer. And now that my brothers are so near, I’m sure they won’t dare... Not to mention the fact that Napoleon is dead. What use can they have for me now?”

  By this time they had arrived in the bower, and he sat on the swing and pulled her into his lap, cradling her against his chest as though he would never let her go.

  “Let’s hope they have none. Because I have far too many for a wonderful husband like you. You’ve spent too many years in the service of your country. It's time for you to get your life back.”

  “As have we all,” he sighed. “Poor Georges. And Jason, er, Alexander. He just got back from duty in Ireland last night apparently, and couldn’t resist a Rakehell picnic.”

  "Well, who could," she joked. "Never a dull moment, eh?"

  “Thank the gods he came when he did, though,” he said fervently a moment later. “I have no idea what would have happened if Alexander hadn’t saved the baby from that madman, and Georges, er, George and I saved each other from the ravine.”

  The reminder of how close she had come to losing him prompted her to kiss him hard, and before they knew it, they were blanketed on his jacket on the thick lush grass as his frenzied lovemaking drove them both to the heights of bliss.

  But at last he rolled off her, tugged her skirts back down, and pulled her close to his side. He murmured against her hair, “I told you I would know when the time was right, didn't I?"

  She knew what he meant at once, and a surge of joy soared through her.

  "It's right now. We have no reason to wait any longer, my lovely Gabrielle. I have my name back, D'Ambois, and I’ve seduced and thoroughly ravished you. I'm afraid there's just no help for it, my love. You’re just going to have to marry me.”

  She smiled up at him. “Oh, darling, of course. It’s what we’ve both been praying for. The answer is yes, a million times yes.” She began to shower his face with kisses.

  “When would you like to do it, then?”

  “As soon as Jonathan Deveril has a space on his calendar, and your brothers can stand for you as groomsmen?” she suggested with a loving look.

  His eyes lit up. “What a wonderful idea. Oh, do you think they’ll agree?”

  She nodded. “You get that lovely little light in your eyes, and no one can refuse you anything, my darling.”

  “Really?” He grinned, and his eyes did indeed take on that golden sparkle that she loved so well. “In that case, do you suppose we can try that swing, in the amatory sense? I mean, it’s the talk of the neighbourhood, and I think in view of the...”

  Gabrielle was already stark naked and on her feet. “I just love the way you can always read my mind. Know what I want even before I do.”

  Simon laughed as he seated himself on the swing, and then gripped one of her legs to draw it over the seat in the opposite direction so she could straddle him.

  “Oh, I don’t know. One look at you, one gaze from your gorgeous eyes, and I get the most thrilling fantasies in my head, like nothing I’ve ever known before. We must feed each other’s fleshly frenzy.”

  “Mmm, I just love your way with words, in English and in French," she purred, gripping his shoulders to steady herself as she slipped her other leg over his lap. "Perhaps especially in French when you say all those sexy little things to me.”

  He canted his hips upwards, while she sank onto his rock solid hardness. “Ahhhh. And you say them right back. Words fail me, though, when I try to express how I feel. I love you so much, Gabrielle, I’m always full to bursting. I just can’t believe my luck.”

  “Nor I," she panted, meeting his heated gaze without shyness. "You really are the most wonderful man. I know you adore your brothers, and they seem very good men, but surely no man can compare with you, my love.”

  He stroked her bare back as he set them to swinging, cupping her buttocks to stop her from sliding off his thighs and onto the grass. “Ah, but you’re looking at me with the eyes of adoration. I’m a flawed man. I would have killed Oxnard with a song in my heart if he had harmed a hair on the baby’s head.”

  Gabrielle leaned forward to kiss him despite gravity trying to pull them apart as they soared upwards anew. “I’ve done and thought things I’m not exactly proud of, darling,” she said with a small shudder, thinking of all she had gone through to save him from Bedlam.

  But as she flew ever higher on the swing, impaled by his huge length, which drove in deeper and deeper as the swing arched skyward, she decided she would do it again in a heartbeat. Anything for this, this.... madness.

  “I find that hard to believe. You’re my ministering angel, as well as my goddess. You heal me, make me whole and complete, Gabrielle, my dearest love. You keep the madness at bay, and bring it on with just one caress of your little tiny hand.”

  Gabrielle giggled and wiggled her fingers in several places designed for maximum gratification. “You mean this little tiny hand?”

  “Lord in Heaven, marry me tomorrow. Make me yours forever!” he gasped as he flew into the abyss of pure raw passion.

  They clung onto the ropes of the swing and each other, and exploded in a paroxysm of passion, into the light of love, and a new life.

  Epilogue

  As soon as all their friends and relatives were gathered en masse, Simon and Gabrielle were able to marry at last, in the elegant chapel at the Duke of Ellesmere's estate, which he said was perfect for yet another Rakehell wedding presided over by Jonathan.

  George did not stand for Simon as groomsman, for the simple reason that he was marrying his own love Miranda at long last.

  This was not the only occasion the three brothers shared, for almost nine months to the day after the double wedding, Simon and George both became fathers.

  Two little boys were born under the roof of the modernised and restored Ferncliffe Castle early in the morning.

  One boy had eyes of gold, the other eyes of obsidian, but both had an obvious intelligence and calmness which left no one in any doubt as to who their parents were.

  Ferncliffe Castle now had three splendid wings, east, west and north, and a magnificent rose garden which was rapidly becoming the toast of England.

  Alexander and his wife Sarah helped Blake and Eswara with the new arrivals, and Randall, Isolde, Michael and Bryony too stood at the ready in case Simon and Gabrielle should need them.

  They sat downstairs in a fine drawing room with blue Peking Droguet patterned sofas, a flagstone floor, and a magnificent hearth until they were summoned, once it was all over.

  “I did so want to help. I've certainly had enough practice,” Isolde explained, “and we all wanted to be here to welcome the latest babies into our family.”

  Gabrielle smiled at her, though she was very tired and slightly befuddled with pain. “That was kind of you, and I'm very grateful, but there was no need in the end. He came fast.

  "But family. Yes, that we are,” she said, smiling at Alexander and Sarah as they kissed her.

  Simon nodded. “All the Rakehells. And the new generation after us. We can never thank you and Randall enough for the gift of your friendship. For taking us in when most people would have sent us packing. But we’re going to spend the rest of our lives trying.”

  Isolde shook his head. "No need. What you've done for our children and ridding our house of those spies has been thanks enough."

  But now was not the time to talk of politics, or the past. Simon felt newly born himself, and couldn’t take his eyes off his new son. “Gabriel.”

  As soon as Lucinda came in to visit with little Christopher, he drew her into the circle of his embrace with his wife, and took his nephew while she picked up her own.

  Randall nodded. “Gabriel. It’s a good name. It's only fitting to name him after his mother.”

  “And the archangel. I think half the host of heave
n must have contributed to the miracle of our love, and restoring my family to me,” he said, his eyes never leaving his wife's face.

  Then he blinked. “How are Miranda and George?” Simon asked with a start, realising he had been staring at his little family pensively without even asking how they had fared.

  Michael gave a grin. “Doing very well, and no doubt wanting to see the new little chap here.”

  Gabrielle smiled at him encouragingly. "Go on, then. I can see you're dying of curiosity."

  “You don’t mind, darling?” he asked sheepishly.

  “Not at all,” she said with a barely suppressed yawn. “So long as you hurry back to tell me all about him. Or better still, ask George to step in as soon as he can drag himself away.”