Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace

by Regina Jeffers

  Talbot angrily turned in Gabriel’s direction. “Your offenses, Lord Godown, are as real as the blood coursing through the Duchess’s veins.”

  “Then permit me to defend myself,” Gabriel countered. “If I have brought sorrow upon your head, permit me to hear with what I am charged.”

  Talbot pressed the gun harder to Bel’s temple. But only a raised eyebrow indicated his aunt’s obvious fear. She was implacably in control of her emotions. “Then you play the innocent? Momentarily, you will recall it all,” Talbot declared with confidence.

  Tauntingly, Gabriel said, “My patience grows thin. Perhaps, I should simply kill you and be free of this annoyance.”

  “You forget your aunt will be dead before you can raise your sword for a parry,” Talbot countered.

  “My aunts have sacrificed much to keep my father’s legacy alive. The Duchess would die to protect me,” Gabriel said aristocratically. Of course, he would never permit Bel to make such a grand gesture, but Talbot had no means of knowing whether Gabriel spoke the truth or not.

  Bravely, Bel said, “Gladly so.”

  “I warned you to hold your tongue!” Talbot shook Bel as part of his threat, and his aunt’s hair fell across her shoulders. It also blocked part of Talbot’s view. Angrily, the man blew at the wisps, but they settled where they had begun. Unfortunately for Talbot, he could do nothing about the loose strands. One hand held Bel plastered to his chest and the other held the gun.

  Bel’s approving smile encouraged Gabriel to do what was necessary. He lifted the sword a bit higher. “Prepare to die,” he declared.

  “Do you think you can save your aunt and yourself, Godown?” Talbot dared. “Always the egotistical aristocrat!”

  “I do not plan to save my aunt,” Gabriel said with an air of defiance. “I simply plan to kill you.” The sword rose to a ready position.

  “You have never considered others, have you, my Lord? You walk through a room and expect everyone to bow to your whims! You place yourself as judge over others!” Talbot charged. His hold tightened on Bel’s neck, but it was too soon for Gabriel to react. Talbot’s fury was a sign the man would soon make a mistake. “I will remind you of what you claim to possess no memory,” the man declared. “Tell me, Godown, do you recall Rockford Hyland?”

  Gabriel frowned in recollection. “I knew of Baron Hyland at university, but I had no direct contact with the man. He was some two years my senior.”

  Talbot admitted, “Three years, in fact. As was I. Hyland and I shared quarters. Do you recall the baron’s fate, Lord Godown?”

  Again, Gabriel searched his memory for any dealings he had had with Hyland. He could recall only the occasional comment in passing. “The only moment of note was that pesky rumor that Hyland had been sent down because of a cheating scandal. I had heard some years later the baron had finished his education while on the Continent.”

  “And that is it?” Talbot said skeptically. “A pesky rumor? Is that all to which you admit, Lord Godown?”

  Gabriel waited patiently for the right moment. “Why do you not refresh my memory?” Sarcasm crept into his tone.

  “Did you know I was a mere squire’ son?” Talbot said with deep regret.

  Gabriel looked pointedly at his aunt with a warning for her to remain alert. “Until recently,” he said evenly, “I had forgotten your beginnings. I simply recalled your being Templeton’s heir, and then there was the report of your demise. I fear much I know of you comes from Lady Gardenia. To the best of my knowledge you and I held no connection at university.”

  “No connection!” Talbot’s voice rose in frustration. “Only the type of association that ruins a man!” he fumed.

  Gabriel’s own patience was wearing thin. “This bizarre conversation circles in upon itself. Why do you not come to the point, Talbot? Lay forth your accusations, and let us settle this.”

  “So be it, Godown,” Talbot spoke defiantly. “When Hyland was sent down so were several of the baron’s associates. Among them, the offspring of a simple country squire: Hyland’s roommate.” Gabriel opened his mouth to respond, but Talbot no longer saw his opponent. The man’s eyes spoke of the tale his mind recited in minute detail. “My uncle had paid smartly to educate his heir, and Lord Templeton was quite enraged I had brought shame upon the family name. My uncle possessed a twisted sense of self worth. Yet, until the rumors subsided, Templeton agreed to send me along with Hyland to the European capitals.”

  As the man continued his rant, Gabriel edged closer. “Everything was agreed upon until the baron discovered his daughter in my chambers the evening before my departure. In no uncertain terms, Templeton swore he would move the heavens to prevent my ascension to the title. As I depended on the allowance my uncle provided, I boarded the ship that was to be my future; instead, it became my end. Literally and figuratively.

  “While I was away from home, Templeton meant to see me displaced as his heir. He sought legal means to thwart my claim to the title. I had volunteered to marry Lady Gardenia, but her father felt strongly against first cousins marrying, and in the baron’s opinion, I had proved myself unworthy of his daughter. I had lost my good name. Sending me away was Templeton’s permanent banishment. Ironically, the ship took on water during a stormy crossing and went down. Much later, I found myself washed up upon a French coastline. For some time, I was ill, and then I was informed of my supposed death. At first, I was angry, but I soon realized God had given me an unusual opportunity. I could make over my future, and when Lord Templeton stuck his spoon in the wall, I could claim the title, which was rightly mine.”

  So as not to bring notice of how close to Talbot he now stood, Gabriel said softly, “I still do not understand my role in this tale.”

  Talbot’s eyes narrowed when he realized the situation had changed. He said sarcastically, “It was you. The one who set the wheels of my demise in motion. The one who told the instructors of Hyland’s attempts to supersede the system. It was you who ripped from my hands a title and the woman I wished to marry.”

  Gabriel’s lips set in thin line. “I knew nothing of the incident. I was in Staffordshire when it happened. My grandmother had taken ill. When I returned to Cambridge, I wore black.”

  “Do you expect me to believe you?” Talbot taunted.

  Gabriel said honestly, “Likely not. But it is the truth.”

  “Yet, Bryson saw you lurking in the hall while Hyland plundered Professor Underwood’s office,” Talbot countered.

  Gabriel said insolently, “You may view the parish records if you wish confirmation of the date of my grandmother’s passing.”

  “But that cannot be,” Talbot said in disbelief. “Bryson described you.”

  “Did the viscount name me?” Gabriel questioned.

  Talbot stammered, “We all…we all knew the culprit.”

  Gabriel frowned dramatically. “Obviously, someone erred.”

  Talbot declared, “You must be mistaken of the date! I left Cambridge knowing the man who had named me as part of the scandal was you. That at your hands, my opportunity to live under Lord Templeton’s roof and to be recognized as the future baron was lost. That I could not claim Gardenia as my wife.”

  “Then Lady Gardenia’s child was yours?” Gabriel said a dawning realization.

  “The boy is mine, but the child lives the life of a peasant,” Talbot confessed. “A fact that is again of your doing!”

  “Was Lady Gardenia’s accusations part of your revenge on me?” Gabriel ignored Talbot’s continued implications. He would not permit himself to grieve over a life that had changed so dramatically because of a flawed assumption on Talbot’s part.

  Talbot sneered. “Actually, your attentions to the woman I had once planned to marry proved most fortuitous on Gardenia’s part. Her father knew of her ruination, but your suit would make his daughter a future marquise. The baron planned a speedy joining. However, when Templeton discovered Gardenia was with child, the stakes changed. By that time, I had been declared d
eceased. The baron no longer held the option of calling me home to make his daughter an honest woman. Instead, Templeton encouraged Gardenia to entice you into a compromising situation to escalate your suit.”

  “I never touched the lady,” Gabriel said tersely.

  “Yes, so Gardenia has informed me,” Talbot said. Gabriel noticed his opponent’s grip had slackened across Bel’s neck.

  Gabriel drew the appropriate conclusion. “So, you are the Italian conte for whom Lady Gardenia reportedly abandoned her husband and child?”

  “Lord Spectre plays so much better in Vienna than it does in England. In Austria, no one questions whether an Englishman truly owns the title he claims.”

  Gabriel felt the bile roll up in his stomach. He had lost everything because of a woman’s deceit. God! He hated himself for his foolish pursuit of a woman who had preferred another. It appeared to be his maxim. That is, until Grace, he thought. Despite the question of her involvement in this maddenly peculiar farce, Gabriel believed Grace genuinely cared for him. Before he could respond, a ruckus pulled their combined attention toward the opening. A scream. A thud. The sound of wood breaking. And then silence. Three sets of eyes stared into the darkened space.

  Relief rushed through his veins as Rosalyn and Rosalía stumbled onto the deck. Their entrance, however, changed everything. Talbot reacted by turning the gun on Gabriel while dragging Bel backward. As Godown lunged forward, a shot rang out, and his skin burned with the bullet’s heat; but he did not stop. He stalked the would-be baron. His eyes remained on Talbot’s countenance. Gabriel forced himself to wait for an opening; he would not chance hurting Bel.

  Talbot’s retreat left Bel gasping for air. His aunt’s fingers clawed at where the man held her securely. Gabriel cursed his opponent’s light footedness. Talbot deftly stepped over coils of rope and dodged barrels stacked upon the deck.

  “Surrender,” Gabriel warned. “It is a ship, Talbot, and my men hold control.”

  “Yet, I will know my revenge,” Talbot countered.

  Behind him, Gabriel knew his aunts, as well as Lowery and Swenton stalked the retreating form.

  “Do not lose hope, Bel,” Lyn called from somewhere off to the right.

  Gabriel noticed how Bel relaxed. She permitted Talbot to drag her along the deck. Her demeanor indicated she had turned her rescue over to Gabriel. He increased his pace and countered several desperate moves Talbot made. His maneuvers had backed Talbot against a mast, and Gabriel readied his stance.

  Yet, from nowhere, one of the two-masted square rigs of the brig swung free, and the partially unfurled sail caught in the light breeze. Gabriel heard the rigging snap, but before he could warn the others, the lowest of the three athwart sails spun free. “Beware, Bel!” he called as he dropped to the deck. The sail’s cloth floated above his head as he watched in horror. The rigging sped toward his aunt. As if in slow motion, Bel reacted. His imperious aunt back fisted Talbot between the eyes, striking the man on his nose’s bridge. When Talbot’s grasp loosened, Bell fell like a lead ball to the deck’s flooring. Momentarily blinded by her blow, Talbot took the full force of the loose sail’s velocity on his forehead. He tumbled over backwards.

  On hands and knees, Gabriel crawled to where Bel lay unmoving on the deck. Cradling her head in his lap, he smoothed the hair from her countenance. “Tantine,” he rasped. “Speak to me. Please, Bel.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Do not leave me,” he pleaded.

  From behind him, he could hear Lowery giving orders for someone to secure the sail, and he noted how Swenton tended Talbot’s unconscious form, but it was Lyn’s and Lía’s presence behind him that gave him hope.

  “She is just exhausted,” Lyn said as she patted her sister’s hand.

  “Of course, she is,” Lía said as her arm slid around Gabriel’s shoulders. “We are family.”

  “Please, Bel,” Gabriel began again. “Wake, my Sweet One.” His fingertips stroked her cheek. Thankfully, one eye opened and then another. “Tantine.” Gabriel’s eyes lifted to the heavens for a personal prayer of thanksgiving. However, instead of God, his gaze fell upon Murhad Jamot perched high in the riggings. The Baloch gave him a silent salute, and Gabriel nodded his gratitude. A smile of satisfaction spread across Jamot’s face. Gabriel kept his silence and returned his attention to his family.

  He first kissed Lyn and then Lía on their ruddy cheeks, and then he scooped Bel into his arms. “Come, Tantes. We should go home. We have had enough adventure for one day.”

  Lía said as she braced her step against Lyn. “Tell me Grace made it safely to land.”

  Gabriel lifted Bel higher. “Lady Godown is from harm's way,” he assured them.

  “Thank God,” Lyn said in relief.

  Bel’s voice was low and raspy, but she said with determination, “You have begged Grace for her forgiveness?”

  Gabriel grimaced. “There was not enough time for a proper conversation. I was concerned for your rescue. We will see Her Ladyship when we reach shore. For now, permit me the peace of knowing you have not suffered unduly.”

  “You must speak honestly to Grace,” Lyn encouraged. “You cannot permit the riff to continue, Godown. Please promise you will reconcile with the marquise.”

  He could have lost them today. These three women were the whole of his existence. “Grace and I will find a means to a reconciliation,” he promised. “I will not have you in fear of my future.” Gabriel would do what he could to save his marriage. He held no idea how to set his feet on the correct path. So many accusations had passed between him and his wife, but as he lifted Bel into one of the waiting boats, he knew bringing Grace home was the most important move he could make.

  Crossing to the docks, he watched carefully as the Three Roses rallied about one another. They were an entity unto themselves. “How did you manage to keep Talbot’s men at bay?” he said as the Realm’s men maneuvered the small boat closer to the moorings.

  Lía grinned largely. “That task was easy. The Baloch told us to think of something that would make a man turn tail and run.” Lyn chuckled, and even Bel smiled largely. Gabriel had insisted Bel not use her voice until a surgeon had examined her. “We all agreed,” Lía continued, “men will never sit through a woman speaking of frills and lace.”

  “We kept a running dialogue regarding the latest fashions whenever one of our captors entered the room,” Lyn explained.

  Lía added, “Between the three of us, we never permitted our gaolers an opportunity to ask of Grace’s whereabouts. It was quite effective.”

  Gabriel chuckled. “I must tell Pennington to add your tactics to our training schedule.”

  Within minutes, he assisted each of them to shore and then directed them along the docks to the room where he had left his wife. Anxious to see her, he hated the snail’s pace set by his aunts; yet, he remained by their sides. Reaching the building, he went ahead of them because he assumed his wife would be beside herself with worry. “Grace! Grace! We found them!” he called as he raced up the steps. But the silence brought him up short.

  Nothing moved. The fire from earlier had been banked, and the chilly emptiness filled every corner. On a nearby table rested his wife’s gowns. The ones he had purchased for her as part of her bridal clothes.

  “Grace!” Lyn called. “You will not believe the drama.”

  As the Three Roses reached the door, Gabriel stepped aside so they could witness what he had. A stabbing pain, starting at the hollow of his throat, opened his soul to the world.

  “Where is she? Where is Lady Godown?” Lía said through trembling lips.

  “Gone.” Gabriel whispered into the stillness.

  Lyn did a poor job of hiding her tears. “Gone where? Grace has no one else in the world.”

  Gabriel swallowed hard. “She has the child.” He looked away. “Grace said the babe was all she required. That she would be rich with love.”

  Bel whispered hoarsely, “You must find her, Godown.”

  Gabriel conf
essed, “I have no idea where to begin. When Grace does not wish to be found, she is quite adept at disappearing.”

  “Look!” Lyn noted. “There is something on the table.”

  Gabriel crossed the room in four long strides. He snatched up the two letters and examined them. “One is addressed to you three,” he said as he turned over the second one in his hand. Lyn accepted the one he extended to his aunts. Meanwhile, Gabriel turned his back on his family and unfolded the pages.

  My dearest Lord,

  If you are reading this, you are aware I have taken your word as law: I have withdrawn. Before I speak further, I must beseech you not to give chase. Our situation is difficult enough without our prolonging the misery.

  Misery was the correct word to describe his current state of mind. In fact, he had lived a miserable existence for the last seven years. What was worse was with Grace’s leaving, Gabriel possessed no opportunity of changing his stars.

  As I hold no doubt of your success in rescuing your aunts, I beg for you to escort the Roses to Staffordshire and resume your life. If you wish a divorce, I shall never cry foul. Instead, I shall consider our short time together as the best days of my life.

  They had been his best days also. How could he have twisted the strands of happiness into knots?

  I shall not offend you by arguing for my innocence. It is too late for either of us to be a victor in this matter. Just be assured the child will know of the magnificent man who is his father. A man who holds my deepest regard. A man of honor. A man who has devoted his days to keeping Englishmen everywhere safe.

  Gabriel cringed. Did Grace truly see the best in him? After all, he had shown her only his worst. He had permitted the memory of Lady Gardenia’s manipulations to color his relationships. Only Grace had fought for him by fighting with him. God! He had erred so adeptly.