Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace

by Regina Jeffers

  It is my hope I can secure a position in order to support my family.

  My family, his wife had said. Not our family. Grace had effectively told him she no longer considered him a part of her life.

  As a woman with a child is not likely to achieve a governess position, I have taken the liberty to keep this quarter’s pin money. I pray you hold no objections.

  Of course, he held objections, but not for the reason Grace assumed. His wife thought he would object to providing for her during her confinement, a fact, which spoke to how often he had berated her. On the contrary, Gabriel objected to Grace’s having a means to leave him.

  I am grateful, my Lord, for your singling me out as your wife. Although we both are well aware I have failed in my role, you have done me a great honor. You have given me respectability and worth by bestowing your name upon me. A woman is defined by her husband’s regard. Yet, as proud as I am to bear your name, I regret having nothing to give you in return. As such, I shall never cross your doorstep again. Promise me you shall seek happiness for you most assuredly deserve it, Gabriel. In closing, I shall claim my title one last time…

  Your loving wife, Grace

  Gabriel reread the adieu several more times. Your loving wife. Had Grace loved him? That was not a possibility, he warned his aching heart. Could she love him still? If not, could he convince her to love him again? He had to remember despite her words of devotion, his wife had wanted her freedom. If Gabriel loved her in return, and he was certain he did, he must permit Grace to leave without incident. Swallowing the nagging pain, he turned to face his aunts.

  “What did Grace say?” Lyn asked anxiously.

  Gabriel slipped the note into his pocket. “My wife extends her farewells,” he said evenly.

  “Farewell?” Lía gasped. “You cannot mean to permit Her Ladyship to simply leave?” she protested.

  “What would you have me do, Tantine? Would you have me physically drag my wife from whichever carriage she has taken?”

  “I would have you apologize for your arrogance and beg Grace to return,” Lía declared.

  “Then you will know disappointment, Aunt.” He physically placed Grace from life by setting his shoulders and his countenance to one of determination. He shut himself from the possibilities. “It is best if I fetch the physician to tend to your injuries and to secure rooms for the night and tomorrow. We will remain in Liverpool until you have recovered from your ordeal.”

  As he exited the room, Gabriel heard Lyn say, “If we wait until you recover, Godown, we will become permanent residents of this port city.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Several hours later, his friends found him haphazardly folding his wife’s belongings. He would be damned if he would leave Grace’s gowns and intimate apparel to those who populated this section of Liverpool. Moreover, these personal items might be all be would ever have of her.

  “How fares your family?” Swenton asked as he entered the room.

  Gabriel looked up from his task. Except for these personal belongings, he had cleared the room of any sign of Grace. “My aunts are resting at The Golden Apple. Bel’s neck is bruised badly, and all three are exhausted from their ordeal; yet, the surgeon assures me they will quickly recover.”

  Lowery ventured, “And Lady Godown?”

  “Gone.” A deathly silence followed. His friends looked awkwardly away. To break the tension, Gabriel changed the subject. “What of our prisoners?”

  Lowery spoke with businesslike precision. “Although several small barrels of the opium appear to be missing, we have confiscated the shipment. The men who kidnapped your family are under arrest.”

  “ And what of our men?” Gabriel asked as he jammed his wife’s wedding gown into the trunk.

  “No one seriously injured,” Swenton summarized.

  Gabriel frowned when he discovered the string of pearls he had presented to Grace as a wedding gift in a velvet bag hidden among her clothing. He slid the pouch into his inside pocket. “What of Talbot?”

  Lowery grimaced. “Mr. Talbot may not make it. The sail struck him a powerful blow.”

  “I suppose I should express my regrets, but I have little sympathy remaining for Talbot. He would have used my family for his perverted revenge.”

  Swenton stated, “It was a remarkably twisted tale Talbot told. So much misery for no true reason.” It was the second time that day someone had used the word “misery” to describe his life.

  Lowery noted, “We have plenty of paperwork to complete to satisfy Pennington. I suppose we should return to The Golden Apple and be at it.” His friends started for the door. “Are you coming, Godown?”

  “I will follow in my carriage. I wish to return these last few items to the trunk.” Thankfully, neither Lowery nor Swenton commented on Gabriel’s need to touch Grace’s belongings.

  At the door, Swenton paused. “By the way, Godown, that was some fancy trickery you managed with the sail. I would never have thought of sending it spinning.”

  Gabriel looked up from the last of the items on the table. “It was none of my doing. Jamot was hiding in the rigging.”

  Lowery declared, “That is impossible! We searched the ship high and low for the likes of the Baloch.”

  “Evidently, not high enough,” Gabriel said sarcastically. “I know what I saw, Carter. Jamot was standing lightly on the crossbar for the second square mast.”

  “Then where did the Baloch go?” Lowery countered. “We had the ship secured. Jamot could not escape, and I tell you he was not aboard.”

  Gabriel would not argue with Lowery. He knew the baronet prided himself on such details. “Perhaps our enemy had planned his escape before we had taken charge of the melee.”

  Lowery sighed heavily. “If you will excuse me, I have some duties to address. I will meet you at the inn.” With a curt bow, the baronet disappeared into the night.

  Swenton grinned largely. “I suspect Sir Carter will dismantle the Sea Spray plank by plank.”

  Gabriel remarked, “I doubt it will make a difference. The Baloch has long disappeared.”

  “Aye, but Lowery must recognize that reality for himself.” Swenton looked to the half-filled trunk. “For some unexplained reason, Jamot took pity on your family. I pray it proves beneficial. That it brings you what you desire.” With that pronouncement, the baron followed Lowery into the night.

  Gabriel glanced down at the small book he had retrieved from the folds of Grace’s gown. He opened it and thumbed the pages. “A journal,” he murmured. “I never knew Grace kept a journal.” He sat heavily and opened it to the first page. Gabriel knew he should not read her personal thoughts, but if it helped him to understand the woman he had taken as his wife, then it was imperative he do so. Between the end sheet and the binding several loose pages fell to the table’s pocketed surface.

  Gabriel unfolded them and noted the date on the rough foolscap. He had seen the paper’s grain previously. Grace’s sketches of Jonah Wright and of Lord Spectre were found on similar sheets. “Grace wrote these pages while she nursed me to health in Scotland,” he told the empty room. Scanning the dates on the various pages, he added, “These sheets chronicle our first encounter.”

  *

  A month had passed, but he had yet to hear one word from his wife. Daily, he cursed himself for not giving chase when he had had the opportunity. Although Gabriel had praised his wife’s ability to disappear into a crowded city, in truth, he had not thought Grace would leave him without some notice of her whereabouts. He had instructed his man of business to provide Grace whatever she required; that is, if Grace contacted Mr. Rankin, which Gabriel did not think a possibility. He made Rankin promise to send word immediately if his solicitor heard from Lady Godown.

  Not a day had passed he had not read his wife’s words regarding their every interaction. Grace’s journal spoke of her deep growing regard for him, of her uncertainty, and of the pain his accusations had caused her. Each time, the regret swelled his throat
closed; yet, he could no more not read the pages than he could stop the sun from rising in the East.

  Grace’s words describing her terror when Benjamin Talbot had threatened her in her brother’s home had ripped the breath from Gabriel’s chest. The tale had solidified Gabriel’s belief in the old adage that evil begets evil. The blow Murhad Jamot had so brilliantly executed had not killed the man, but it had knocked Talbot, literally, senseless. Once more, scandal had been delivered to Templeton’s doorstep, and reportedly, the baron had departed on an extended stay of the Continent. For his role in the kidnapping and attempted murder of members of the aristocracy, Talbot faced hanging. Of course, Gabriel’s family’s involvement had dredged up the previous rumors of his aborted courtship of the former Lady Gardenia. Yet, somehow, the gossip no longer mattered to Gabriel. The only thing worth his notice was finding a resolution to his situation with Grace.

  Her journal had also revealed her involvement in the attack in the park. Lord Worthing had confirmed his wife had observed Grace’s injury. It proved what an idiot he had been. His unconquerable wife had risked her life to save his. Just as she had risked her life, as well as his child’s life, to save his aunts. Yes, he thoroughly believed the child was his. He could not have read Grace’s impassioned words without knowing the truth in his heart.

  After carefully questioning his aunts regarding the events leading up to their being taken upon the Sea Spray, Gabriel had paid a late night visit to Geoffrey Nelson. The baron had foolishly told Talbot of Grace’s traveling plans. Nelson’s drunken rant had nearly cost Gabriel the lives of his beloved aunts and Grace.

  “Sign the papers,” he had hissed close to Nelson’s ear. Gabriel had used his fists on the baron. A lesson in humility.

  Nelson objected, “You leave me nothing.”

  “On the contrary,” Gabriel had said sarcastically. “I leave you your freedom, along with a modest monthly allowance.”

  “What of Foresthill?” the baron persisted.

  “The estate is under my control until I choose to return it to you. I will only do so when you prove worthy of its stewardship. It is only my deep affection for Grace that sets me to having any compassion for you.” Gabriel jerked Nelson upright. “If you do not agree, I will turn you over to the authorities. The opium trade leaves a trail to your door.”

  “I knew nothing of the Baloch’s business,” Nelson protested.

  “Then prove yourself a man,” Gabriel challenged. “Take responsibility and make restitution.” It had given Gabriel solace to know he had assisted Grace’s brother. It was one way to honor the love his wife had once offered him.

  It was the first week of February when the Duchess announced to all her dear family that she would marry Aristotle Pennington in mid-March. Her son, Lord Damon, had finally agreed to Mr. Pennington’s plight. Gabriel thought it all quite amusing how Pennington had called upon the young duke to ask Damon’s permission to marry the dowager duchess, a woman nearing her fiftieth birthday. His only regret was Grace was not among the family guests.

  When he learned of Benjamin Talbot’s maltreatment of the woman he affected, Pennington had rushed to Bel’s side. In fact, it had taken both Gabriel and Swenton to restrain the Realm’s leader. Pennington had lost all form of reason when he had witnessed the bruises on Bel’s neck.

  “You are welcome to use Fugol Hall,” Gabriel told the couple. “But I do not mean to travel to Town.”

  “Yet, you must attend the ball Lyn and Lía plan in our honor,” Bel insisted. “It would not be a celebration without your being in attendance.”

  Gabriel knew his duty to the women who had never failed him; however, he held no desire to face the ton. As his cousin, Lord Isaacs had done earlier in the evening, everyone would comment on Talbot’s madness and on Gabriel’s marriage debacle. His expression turned somber. “I would never permit you to align yourself with Mr. Pennington without my being present to witness it. Your happiness has always been tantamount, Tantine.”

  “As is yours.” Bel patted the back of Gabriel’s hand. After an awkward pause, she asked, “Is there any word of Grace?”

  A heavy weight settled in his gut. An array of emotions sent a shiver up his spine. What if Grace had sought assistance from disreputable people? What if, even now, she lay dead in one of London’s gutters? What if she had taken his child and departed for the Americas or to India? He had spent a small fortune searching for her at every port city and in the major towns scattered across England. He would not stop until he found her. “One would think a woman some four months with child would be easy to discover, but we have had no trace of her. When Lady Godown left Liverpool, she changed her destination several times, going first east and then north before turning southwest toward Cornwall, but she never arrived in the western shires. Somehow, my wife made it impossible for me to sketch her journey.”

  “It would be easy enough to do. There are so many posting inns and public coaches,” Pennington observed. “Do you wish the Realm’s assistance?”

  Gabriel’s scowl deepened. “I appreciate the offer, but this is personal, between me and Her Ladyship.”

  Pennington said seriously, “I understand your position, but know your brothers in life are anxious to be at your service.”

  “I am aware of their fidelity, but this is something I must do alone.”

  *

  Grace rushed through the side streets and alleys. If she were late again, Madam Sophia would likely release her. When she had departed Liverpool, she had prayed her husband would not give pursuit; yet, a part of her had known the disappointment of Lord Godown’s lack of affection for her. Over those first few weeks of their marriage, Grace had convinced herself her husband had developed a tendre for her.

  She had arrived in London nearly two months prior, but to the best of her knowledge, no one had yet to ask her landlady about her. She had let a single room not far from the infamous Berkley Square, but in the industrial area leading to the Thames. Having resumed her “disguise,” Grace had moved freely among the men and women who kept London, and England, economically productive.

  Assuming she could not return to a governess position, Grace had taken employment as a seamstress in Madam Sophia’s Boutique. With the pin money she had saved, Grace assumed she would soon have enough money to book passage on a ship to the Americas and to begin a new life. It was her intention to wait until after the child’s arrival. She wished for her child to be born an English citizen. And yes, she was definitely carrying His Lordship’s issue, which was the reason she was running late again this morning. Since the beginning of her fourth month of her gravidity, she had known the sickness each morning. This particular day, she had emptied her stomach completely before she could consider dressing for the day.

  Grace rushed through the back entrance to the shop only to come face-to-face with a scowling Madam Sophia, whose real name was Sophie Carey. “I apologize…it shall not happen again,” she stammered. Grace purposefully placed her cloak on the hook. She had learned quickly with Madam Sophia not to give the shop owner the upper hand.

  “If it does…” Madam threatened. “I shall have no choice but to release you, Charity.” Grace had used the name Charity Winters as part of her employment.

  Grace dropped her eyes in submission. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Madam frowned deeper. “Very well. Lady Gardenia is in blue dressing room. She requires several adjustments to the gown she will wear this evening.” Madam lowered her voice. “Of course, the woman is no longer Lady Gardenia; she married one of her footmen some seven years prior.”

  Grace’s heart raced. Could this be the same Lady Gardenia who had attempted to entrap Lord Godown? Sally Cole, Madam’s assistant, joined the conversation. “I am surprised the woman intends to show her countenance in Society. There are rumors her cousin will be hanged on Friday next.” Sally referred to Benjamin Talbot’s sentencing. Grace had devoured every report of Talbot’s trial. She had an interest in the man’s guilt: the safe retu
rn to the ton of the Three Roses and the lack of an indictment against her brother. In addition, Grace had desperately desired any news of her husband. The various newspapers had dredged up first-hand reports of what had transpired between Godown and the Templetons.

  Not wishing to gossip about her husband, Grace gave both women a smile of companionship and returned to her task. “I should see to the lady’s needs,” she mumbled.

  Madam stopped her. “Do not forget, you, Molly, and Lucy have agreed to work the betrothal party this evening. This is quite a coupe for our little establishment to be asked to provide for a duke’s guests. Sally will supervise the event.”

  Grace had allowed the date to slip her mind. She had accepted the extra work some three weeks prior. Of course, that was before she had spent the morning with her head in a chamber pot. At least, tomorrow was Sunday. She could lie abed all day, and the extra coin would do her well while she recovered from her confinement. “Thank you for the reminder,” she said honestly.

  “Madam has ordered a hack so we will not be tardy,” Sally explained. She and the others would remain in the women’s retiring room. They would provide emergency repairs for ripped seams or loose lace.

  Grace slipped into the blue dressing room. Her curiosity had increased. The woman waiting within the mirrored alcove had once held Lord Godown’s heart. Despite the lady’s harsh expression, Grace had to admit the woman was a beauty. “Finally!” Lady Gardenia snapped. “I have several alterations, which I must have done today.”

  Automatically, Grace said, “Yes, my Lady. How may I serve you?” She watched the woman’s facial expressions: a rolling of the eyes, a pout, a scowl, and a smile. Grace wondered what brought on the gambit of emotions, and then she realized the woman practiced her interactions with others.