Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace

by Regina Jeffers

  Gabriel shifted his weight and kissed the top of Grace’s head. “Remind me to send Lady Worthing a bauble to signify my gratitude,” he said teasingly.

  Grace kissed his chest. “Perhaps, you might teach me what you desire most from me, my Lord.”

  “Gabriel,” he instructed as he lifted her chin with his fingertips. He kissed her sweetly. “You have very little to learn.” He brushed Grace’s lips with his. “I am a man blessed beyond others. Yet, behind these doors, we will deal honestly with each other.” Gabriel caressed her breast, but when his wife grimaced, he released her. “Would you prefer I did not touch you thus?” he asked in concern.

  He noted the panic as it crossed Grace’s countenance. “Oh, no, my Lord.” She blushed thoroughly. “It is a most pleasurable sensation.” His wife bit her bottom lip in distress. “It is…my breasts…”

  “Say it, Grace. We must speak in earnest to each other,” he encouraged.

  She dipped her eyes in embarrassment. “My breasts are tender,” she said so softy Gabriel had to listen with his whole being to hear her.

  Immediately, he felt like an ogre. “Oh, Grace,” he said as he captured her hand and brought it to rest over his heart. “I should have thought…have considered you are not accustomed to such rough treatment.”

  She said seriously, “You did nothing, Gabriel, I did not desire.”

  “Yet, I should have considered how sheltered you have been held…”

  Tears misted her eyes. “Please do not turn from me, my Lord,” she said on a rush.

  For several elongated seconds, Gabriel stared at her in disbelief. Her history had convinced Grace he would turn her away for the least deficit. Who had so destroyed her confidence? Even he had only seen the façade she displayed for the world. He sat upright and pulled her to him. “Grace, I will never turn from you. You are my wife, and somehow we must build a life together. A life that holds responsibility to Gossling Hll. A life that brings joy and laugher to fill our children’s days. But also a life where neither of us knows regrets. I will not see you suffer, especially at my hand. I will treat you more gently over the next few days–until your body becomes more accustomed to my desire for you.”

  “You still want me?” she asked skeptically.

  Gabriel caught her hand and directed it to his rapidly hardening erection. “Feel my desire,” he growled as her fingers encircled him. “Grace,” he moaned as he laid her down.

  *

  Over breakfast on their fourth day together, he said, “I thought perhaps we should travel to Lancashire to address your family. The weather appears to be holding. That is if you hold no objections.”

  Grace’s countenance spoke of her happiness, and Gabriel’s initial qualms regarding revisiting his wife’s connections to the opium shipments eased. Making her happy had somehow become tantamount. “Oh, my Lord,” she gushed. “Can it be? Mercy shall be so pleased, and I am grateful for your generosity.” She squeezed the back of his hand, and despite his best efforts, Grace’s warmth filled his heart and reached into the cold that had frosted his soul since the day his impetuosity had forced him from England’s shores.

  “I have asked Avery to pack your portmanteau. As it will likely take your sister some time to organize her belongings and me several hours to make settlements with your brother, we will stay at an inn this evening. When Grace noticeably frowned, Gabriel flinched.

  “My Lord…” she stammered. “My brother…Geoffrey is a difficult man. Please promise me you will not permit the baron to rile you. Nor will you permit Geoffrey to demand a large settlement. I would not have you finance my brother’s vices. If you bring Mercy to Gossling Hill, it shall be recompense aplenty.”

  Gabriel did not want to ask, but his curiosity won out. “Do you not wish my connection to benefit your brother?”

  She sighed heavily. “Do not mistake my words. I grieve, my Lord, for the estate that was my home for many years, and for those who have served the barony. And I grieve for both my brother and my sister: for Geoffrey because responsibility is not part of his vocabulary and for Mercy who has known such horrors under the current Baron Nelson’s reign.”

  “And no grief for you own fate?” Gabriel asked tentatively. Surely, his wife regarded her recent history as a tribulation.

  Her fingers interlaced with his. “There have been days, my Lord, I have cursed my life, but now I see all those days of deprivation have led me to this moment. How could I despise any day that brought me closer to knowing a home and you?”

  Damn! he thought. What a perfect response! Either his wife was the greatest actress to set foot upon the stage, or she had just uttered the most profound words he had ever heard. If footmen did not move about the morning room, Gabriel would have scooped her into his arms and kiss Grace senseless. His hand moved of its own freewill to caress her chin. At this moment, he praised the stars that had led her to that Scottish inn yard at the same instant as they had he. “You are a remarkable woman, Grace Crowden.” His thumb stroked the scar on the tip of her chin. He loved the way she blushed when he showed her such intimacy. “I have wondered over the last few days the source of this small imperfection. It is of recent origin.”

  Grace’s eyes lowered in embarrassment. “A gift from my brother,” she said softly.

  Gabriel made certain his servants were from hearing range. “What transgression earned such treatment?” He fought for control. Geoffrey Nelson had struck Grace. When he spoke to the man today, Gabriel would express his contempt in no uncertain terms.

  Grace’s weak smile spoke of discomfiture. “I foolishly thought to return to our room in Scotland, and Geoffrey thought differently.”

  “The baron struck you?” he said in disbelief. “Did you resist?” Gabriel wanted all the facts.

  Grace’s eyes stared off to the left. “Geoffrey had insisted I accompany him. You slept,” she reminded him. “I did not wish to abandon you, but I could not permit my brother to demand the connection.” Gabriel had never considered the possibility that Grace’s departure was meant to protect him. “As we rolled from the inn yard, I spotted Mr. Wright. I feared the worst and attempted to climb down from my brother’s carriage. Geoffrey’s blow kept me silent for several miles.”

  Gabriel’s heart stopped. If her tale held true, she had attempted to save him and had suffered for it. Despite his servants’ close scrutiny, Gabriel leaned forward to brush his lips across hers. “No one will bring harm upon you again, Grace. I will protect you with my title, my name, and my life.”

  Many hours later, his carriage came to a halt before a less than inviting entrance to Foresthill Hall. Gabriel shifted Grace in his arms. Her head had rested on his shoulder for the last hour. “You might wish to straighten your bonnet, my Dear,” he whispered close to her ear, and for good measure, he kissed her nose.

  Grace unlaced her bonnet’s ribbons to retie them. She frowned when she caught sight of her family home. “If possible, it has lost more of its former appeal. And to think I have only been gone a month.”

  The carriage door opened and one of his men set down the stairs. “No footmen?” he questioned as he eased himself from the coach.

  The carriage door framed her as Grace looked up at the manor house. “I am certain Geoffrey has released all but the most basic staff.”

  Gabriel grumbled, “Delightful.”

  Grace placed her hand on his arm as he assisted her to the ground. “My earlier cautions were no idle warnings, my Lord,” she said earnestly.

  After giving his men instructions regarding his coach and his cattle, Gabriel led his wife up the decaying entrance steps. He released the knocker. After several minutes, an elderly butler eased the door open. “Miss Grace!” he exclaimed when he recognized her. Grace’s appearance on Foresthill’s doorstep, obviously, surprised the man. But it was a present surprise. The door swung wider as the man ushered them forward. “Blessed be the day! We feared something amiss when the master declared you dead.”

  Gabriel
felt Grace’s fingers tighten on his arm, and he nudged her closer. He heard the mix of anger and fear in her tone. “Mr. Soames, my husband and I would speak to Master Geoffrey.”

  The butler appeared pleased. “You have married, Miss Grace?”

  Gabriel intoned, “Lady Godown.”

  The man understood immediately. “Of course, my Lord.” He bowed respectfully. “Permit me to take your wraps, and then I will inform Baron Nelson of your arrival.”

  Grace leaned closer. “Is my brother alone?”

  Mr. Soames glanced nervously toward the main staircase. “Yes, Ma’am. However, the Master is expecting guests this evening.”

  Grace said quietly, “Then we should speak to my brother as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, Your Ladyship. Perhaps you and Lord Godown could wait in the gold drawing room.” He extended a silver salver for Gabriel’s card.

  Grace nodded her agreement. “If you will follow me, my Lord.”

  She extended her hand, and Gabriel readily accepted it. He appreciated the fact his wife was willing to accept his support. When they had entered her family home, Gabriel had noted the slight shift of Grace’s shoulders. Certainly, there was determination, but there was also an injured animal’s cower in her stance. It bothered him the woman who possessed such courage as to perform surgery on his shoulder would flinch at the shadows this house held. Instinctively, he moved closer to her; Gabriel would protect Grace.

  They waited perhaps a quarter hour before being admitted to Geoffrey Nelson’s study. The wait provided him time to examine the state of decay evident under Foresthill’s roof. Worn furniture. Faded draperies. Brighter wallpaper from where paintings had been removed. Thread bare carpets. He swallowed hard at viewing the devastation. He understood fully why his wife had demanded her sister’s rescue be a part of their agreement. Mr. Soames escorted them into her brother’s private room. Gabriel’s eyes went immediately to the man behind the desk. He had seen Geoffrey Nelson through his glass when Gabriel had spied on the family home.

  The resemblance between Grace and her brother lay easily between the siblings. He felt Grace stiffen, and he braced her with a gentle hand resting on her lower back.

  The baron rose slowly to greet them. He held Gabriel’s card between his thumb and his middle finger. “A marquis, Grace?” he said dryly. “You have done well.” He did not move, nor did he offer them a chair. “I never suspected you would attract such a connection.”

  Grace’s voice trembled. “Mayhap we might have a seat, Geoffrey, and discuss the reason for our call.”

  Baron Nelson finally met Gabriel’s eyes. With a sweeping gesture, he indicated two nearby chairs. “By all means.” The room reeked of stale tobacco smoke and sour ale, but Gabriel assisted Grace to one of the chairs. As the baron lowered his form into the leather-covered chair that had seen better days, he declared, “If Lord Godown has come to claim your dowry, I fear he is too late.”

  “I want nothing from you, Nelson. Nor will I share anything that is mine,” Gabriel countered.

  Nelson sneered, “It appears my dearest sister has carried her tales of neglect to her marriage bed.”

  Gabriel stated the obvious. “It would not take Grace’s confidences for me to recognize your position, Nelson.”

  The man sat his watch upon the desk. “Then I will no longer waste your time, Lord Godown. I have no dowry to share in my sister’s name. You have no sympathy for your wife’s connections. Our business is complete.”

  Grace demanded, “I wish to speak to Mercy before we leave.”

  Nelson snorted his disbelief. “Your stipulations may serve you well in your marriage, Grace, but I know your manipulations.” He eyed Gabriel with true contempt. “Was Lord Godown the man with whom you shared your bed in Scotland?” When Grace gasped, the baron continued, “Do you truly think, Grace, I was unaware of your whorish ways?”

  Gabriel rose quickly and reached across the desk to catch Nelson’s lapels. He jerked the baron closer. Only inches separated their faces. “Permit me to make myself perfectly clear,” Gabriel hissed. “I will tolerate no man’s aspersions toward my wife. You will apologize to your sister immediately or you will name your seconds.” Gabriel smelled the sour burp waiting to escape the baron’s lips. He could also smell the fear coursing through the man’s veins. With a shove, he released Nelson, but he did not return to his seat.

  Nelson’s mouth set in a tight line. Finally, he said through gritted teeth, “My apologies, Grace. I spoke out of turn.”

  Gabriel did not permit Grace the opportunity to respond. His wife was of the nature to forgive her brother, and Gabriel would not have her subjugate herself to her brother ever again. He growled, “Now, please explain to Lady Godown the whereabouts of her sister, and then we will trouble you no longer.”

  Nelson, too, remained standing, but he said flatly, “Mercy no longer resides at Foresthill.”

  Grace caught the desk’s edge. “You have married her off to Sir Lesley?” she accused.

  The baron jammed his fingers into his hair. “If only. At least, then I would have something to show for the years I provided for her.”

  Gabriel could tell from his wife’s expression she considered violent actions. He placed his hand on Grace’s shoulder to steady her. “I will ask a second time,” he said in cold warning, “the whereabouts of Miss Mercy.”

  The baron sat heavily. “Gone. Two days after your departure.” He looked accusingly at Grace. “I traced your speedy exit to the village where Mr. Arnold assured me you had departed on the London coach.” Nelson stared off as if seeing something neither Grace nor Gabriel could. “I was angry, Grace. You know how I am when I drink.”

  Grace whispered, “Yes, Geoffrey. I know.”

  “In my anger, I told Mercy I had found you, but someone had taken your life before I could reach you. In my heart, you were dead to me.”

  Defiantly, Grace accused, “I could not remain at Foresthill. Your associates threatened vile futures.”

  Nelson’s eyes met his sister’s. “I would never permit someone to defile you.”

  “The threats were ill abuse enough, Geoffrey,” she countered.

  Gabriel would question Grace at a later time about the nature of these threats and who delivered them. For now, he said, “What did Miss Mercy do after you delivered your prevarication?”

  Nelson made no attempt to hide the truth. “She declared Grace had found her escape from the madness this house held. The next morning, the servants alerted me to Mercy’s empty bed. A note announced she intended to follow her older sister to Heaven or to Hell.”

  “How long ago was that?” Gabriel demanded.

  Grace answered, “I left Foresthill the first week of November.”

  Gabriel reasoned, “Then your sister disappeared a month prior.”

  Grace’s eyes filled with tears. “I am too late,” she whispered.

  Gabriel braced her unsteady stance. “Come, my Dear. We should see our way home.”

  She accepted his arm about her waist, but Grace defiantly turned on her brother, “I forgive you, Geoffrey, but I wish never to have our paths cross again.”

  On the way out, Gabriel handed another of his cards to Mr. Soames. “I would pay a fine sum for any information on Miss Mercy.”

  Grace added, “Please send word to Gossling Hill if my sister returns or if the baron receives any news of her whereabouts.”

  Soames nodded his agreement. “No reward will be necessary, my Lord. I would consider it an honor to know I assisted Miss Mercy in finding a better situation.”

  Grace’s interest piqued. “Did you assist Miss Mercy as you did me, Mr. Soames?”

  Her countenance fell with his response. “No, Ma’am. Miss Mercy engineered her own escape.”

  Gabriel directed his wife toward the waiting carriage. He followed her into the darkened interior and immediately scooped her into his arms. “We will find her,” he declared as he stroked her back and cradled his wife in his lap.
The carriage rolled away from her home, and he held her close to lessen the pain of her losses.

  “Where would we begin?” she sobbed.

  Gabriel loosened her bonnet’s ribbons and tossed it aside. Then he palmed her chin and lifted it to where he could look upon her countenance. “If there is anyone who can find Miss Mercy, it will be a Realm member. I will call in every debt owed me to expedite the search.”

  Grace’s lower lip trembled. “You would do that for me?” she said in disbelief.

  Gabriel corrected, “I would do it for us. We have entered this arrangement as partners.”

  Grace leaned forward to kiss him tenderly. He meant to keep his promise. He would use his governmental resources to find his wife’s sister. He would do what he could to return the smile to Grace’s lips.

  Chapter Twenty

  They returned to Gossling Hill the following afternoon to discover his aunts in residence for the Christmastide celebrations. Gabriel had thought he and Grace might have several more days to enjoy their joining and was disappointed to share his wife with his family. Over the past few days, he had begun to think without outside influences he and Grace might actually know some degree of happiness. She had suffered much last evening. Despite his vow to find her sister, Baron Nelson’s words had tormented his wife, and Gabriel simply had held her wrapped in his arms throughout the night. Somehow, he had found it as satisfying as their sexual encounters. And as he had wiped the tears from her cheeks this morning, he had sworn he would move the heavens to make her happy.

  Thankfully, Pennington had returned with the Three Roses. Gabriel and the Realm’s leader had held a heated discussion regarding Gabriel’s request for the Realm’s assistance in locating Grace’s sister. On the carriage ride, he had questioned Grace quite extensively about her sister’s habits and of Mercy’s appearance. Apparently, until her recent return to Foresthill Hall, Grace had no idea how tormented Mercy Nelson had become. “I surrendered my youth to save her,” his wife had said in a tearful confession. “Yet, it was not enough. Instead of Geoffrey using the funds he had saved from my dowry and the expense of seeing a sister through a marriage proposal to set the title on solid ground, my brother has sunk his inheritance further into debt. He used Mercy as a pawn to pay those who hold his vows. Now, my sister is out in the world on her own. How will she survive, my Lord? How will a girl of genteel background settle into the depravity often facing a single woman?”