Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace

by Regina Jeffers

  Realization fell across Gabriel’s countenance. “And then someone convinced my father to alter his will. My cousin might not inherit the title, but he could still dramatically increase his holdings. It would make his position in Society stronger. And, of course, there was always the possibility I would not marry before the deadline or my wife might not produce an heir to save my father’s legacy. My cousin was quite thorough,” he said with total contempt.

  “Your refusal placed me in Benjamin’s pocket I despised it, but Mr. Talbot proved useful in many ways. My cousin always believed you at fault in his disinheritance. He was so easy to convince of my loyalty. The man despised your perfection, my Lord,” she said disdainfully.

  “Which was foolish on Talbot’s part,” Gabriel countered. “Entailed land and the title cannot be turned aside. Despite Lord Templeton’s rants, Talbot would have known the position he so coveted.”

  “True. Entailments are difficult to turn aside. Unless one has committed a capital crime.” A smirk graced her lips. “Both Isaacs and I were prodigiously disappointed when you married the woman to save your title. Of course, a governess is likely thankful someone even looked upon her. I understand your wife’s is quite plain.”

  Gabriel’s hands fisted at his side. “My wife is absolutely stunning,” he declared. “Hers is a beauty within and without.”

  “Oh, my!” Gardenia feigned empathy. “Poor, Lord Godown. It sounds as if you hold the lady with true regard.” Her tone conveyed the exact opposite of sympathy.

  Gabriel had said enough. This woman had robbed him of his past. His friends had been correct; he had permitted Lady Gardenia domain over his days. Well, no more! he thought. He had stopped believing in God’s goodness long ago. But Grace’s presence in his life had proved Gabriel a fool. Now he recognized the possibilities. Could he reach her before she fired? he wondered. At this range, she will not miss. Just as he prepared to lunge in her direction, a twig snapped behind him, and another gun nestled into his side. “Do not move, Cousin,” the voice warned.

  Instantly, Gabriel regretted his former inaction. “I wondered when you would appear, Isaacs,” he said confidently.

  *

  Grace had ignored Sally Cole’s threats. Instead, she wove her way toward the ballroom. She scurried past outraged guests as she fought her way through a crush of bodies. She searched each countenance for the masculine beauty of her husband’s features. Then her eyes lit on a familiar countenance. “Lady Eleanor,” she said in relief.

  “Grace?” Eleanor caught her about the shoulders and directed Grace from the flow of bodies in the main corridor. “Thank God!” She gave Grace a quick embrace. “Where have you been? And what in the world are you wearing?”

  “There is no time to explain.” Grace’s eyes searched the throngs of people. “Lady Gardenia has a gun, and she means to use it against Lord Gabriel.”

  Lady Worthing’s eyes grew in size. “How do you know this?” Eleanor said with urgency.

  “I overheard the lady in the retiring room when she discussed her plan with Lady Cushing. They did not know I was behind the screen.”

  Lady Eleanor did not question the authenticity of the story, and Grace thanked her stars for bringing this woman into her life. “How may I assist you?”

  “I must locate His Lordship and warn him,” Grace said anxiously.

  Lady Eleanor glanced over her shoulder. “Earlier this evening, Lord Godown confided Lady Gardenia wished to meet him on the terrace.”

  The idea her husband might consider a rendezvous with his former amour was another blow to Grace’s confidence, but she shoved those feelings aside. “Tell Lord Worthing and Mr. Pennington,” she ordered. “I must stop Lady Gardenia. Hurry, Eleanor. Gabriel’s life is in danger.” She shoved Lady Worthing from her before boldly stopping a servant to inquire of the nearest door leading to the terrace. When the harried footman pointed to the library, Grace raced away.

  Moments later, she inhaled the earthy smell of early spring flowers in bloom. After her departure, Grace had desperately missed the Gossling Hill conservatory. She had spent many happy hours working with the blooms the gardener had permitted her domain over. Turning toward where a soft glow illuminated the night sky, Grace hurried on. Rounding the house’s corner, she came to a stumbling halt. In a small clearing stood her husband. Before him was a bedraggled Lady Gardenia, and behind Lord Gabriel was his cousin, Lord Isaacs, a man Grace had met only once: at the Christmastide celebrations at Gossling Hill. A man she had not thought equal to her husband. As she crept closer, Grace realized both Isaacs and Lady Gardenia held a gun on her husband.

  “The Roses claim my cousin holds his wife in highest regard,” Isaacs said with contempt. “Yet, even he believes the child she carries belongs to Talbot. Once we are free of Godown, we can dispense with his wife.” Grace listened closely. Evidently, Godown’s family was well aware of their deepest secrets.

  Lady Gardenia said conspiratorially, “Assuming the lady decides to return to claim the title for her child.”

  Isaacs smiled wickedly. “It will not be difficult to prove the woman a whore. Everyone knows her husband banished her from his life and his home.” Isaacs’ words brought another round of regret. Grace swallowed past the thickness clogging her throat.

  Surprisingly, her husband came to her defense. “Call my wife a name again, Cousin,” Lord Gabriel warned, “and I will rip you to shreds.”

  Isaacs pressed the pistol harder into Gabriel’s side, and Grace bit back her call of alarm. If she could move closer, possibly she could eliminate Lady Gardenia’s threat while her husband dealt with Isaacs. As such, Grace crouched lower and pushed through the row of rose bushes. Finding cover behind a large oak tree, she waited for the perfect moment.

  “Such gallantry,” Isaacs said scornfully. “You would risk your life to save your wife?”

  “I would give up my fortune for Grace,” her husband declared, and Grace felt the wings of hope take flight. “Life makes no sense without her.”

  “Is that not ironic?” Isaacs snarled. “For that is exactly what you have: Nothing. No wife. And soon no title or fortune.” He brought the gun to rest at Gabriel’s neck. “Now, my Dear,” he said to Lady Gardenia. “Shoot His Lordship just as I showed you. Close enough to make the shot count.”

  “That way you may be charged with murder and not my cousin,” Lord Gabriel stated with confidence.

  Gardenia frowned deeply. “That is ridiculous. Jonathan loves me,” she protested.

  “When Isaacs is the marquis, he can name his marquise. Why would my cousin choose a woman steeped in scandal?” Gabriel argued. “At the most, you will remain his mistress.”

  Isaacs shot a glance to Lady Gardenia. “Surely, you do not believe him. After all we have meant to each other.” He said encouragingly, “Just follow the plan, Denia, and we will have the title, the land, and the fortune.”

  Grace watched in dismay as Lady Gardenia raised the gun higher. When the woman bit her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut, Grace moved by design. She threw herself at Lady Gardenia. As they tumbled to the ground, the gun broke nature’s silence. Darkening the moon’s reflection, birds exploded into the air, which only lent to the chaos.

  Gabriel had no idea who or what had upset Lady Gardenia, but he reacted immediately. With a sweeping kick, he spun to the rear, sending his cousin’s legs buckling at the knees. Isaacs pitched forward to slap the paving stones with his head. Gabriel scrambled to his feet. Running footsteps told him others came to his assistance. On the ground before him, two women kicked and scratched. Finally, the one in the dark gown pulled back her fist to land a grazing blow to Lady Gardenia’s jaw. It was enough to silence the annoying woman’s squeals.

  Gabriel looked up to see Lord Worthing and Baron Swenton rushing to his aid. His Aunt Bel, Pennington, and Lady Eleanor followed close behind. As he shook his head to clear his thoughts, his rescuer struggled to her feet. Involuntarily, he reached for her hand to steady her rise,
but the moment his fingers touched hers, he knew. “Grace?” he rasped.

  Slowly, she turned her head to look him squarely in the eyes. “My Lord.” Her lips said the words, but no sound came forth.

  Two heartbeats passed before he rasped hoarsely, “Thank God!” He pulled her roughly into his embrace. “You have returned.” His hands searched her body. He had had this dream before, and he could not believe her actually in his arms. “I have never been so happy to see anyone. It is the same…les mêmes yeux.” He kissed her eyelids. “Les même nez.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “La bouche meme.” He kissed her mouth’s corner. “That have haunted my dreams for months. You are real, are you not?” He cupped her chin in his large palm.

  “I am real, my Lord,” she whispered through her sobs. She sighed heavily and rested her head upon his chest.

  Gabriel inhaled the scent of her. It was the scent of home. Of love. He tightened his arms about her. “Never leave me again,” he pleaded. “I cannot live without you.” He pulled back to stare into the eyes of the woman he loved most dearly. “Tell me we will start anew. I love you, Grace Crowden.”

  “The child?” she asked tentatively.

  “Will know both his parents,” he declared.

  “I love you, Gabriel,” she said with definition. His heart swelled with happiness. He lowered his mouth to hers. People moved around them, but Gabriel continued to kiss her. God, he had missed her! She shuddered behind his lips, but hers was not a complete surrender. Rather, it was a new beginning, a leaving behind of the uncertainty and the suspicion and the loneliness.

  “Enough of that for now,” his Aunt Bel declared from somewhere very close. Reluctantly, Gabriel raised his head; yet, he refused to release his wife “Although I have no idea how Isaacs is involved in this shamble, I take it our cousin has joined Lady Gardenia’s madness. Perhaps, we should place the pair in the cold cellar until we can sort all this out.” As usual, Bel had taken charge. “I suspect our speedy departure will draw the curious onlookers. Aris, it is perhaps best you escort Lady Worthing’s return to the ballroom.”

  “Yes, Bel,” Pennington said as he extended his arm to Lady Eleanor.

  Eleanor called over her shoulder. “I expect a full explanation, Grace.”

  His wife giggled. “I would have it no other way, Ella,” she taunted happily. Gabriel relished her easy response. His tension teetered between inaction and surrender.

  Bel continued to give orders. “Lord Worthing, if you and the baron would see to my nephew’s attackers, I would appreciate it.”

  His friends nudged a rumpled and stunned Isaacs and Gardenia toward the rear of the house. Worthing grinned largely. “Like my wife, I am most anxious to know the way of this chaos, Godown.”

  Gabriel nodded his agreement. “As soon as I can sort out the details.”

  Swenton added, “Lowery and Yardley have isolated Lady Cushing in Lord Damon’s study. I will ask them to place the viscountess with the others.” Gabriel watched his friends lead the unlikely couple away.

  Bel caressed Grace’s chin. “I shall echo my nephew’s words. You are not to leave us again. You are a part of this family, and we take it as a great offense when you do not turn to us for assistance.”

  Tears streamed down his wife’s cheeks. “I promise,” Grace sobbed.

  His aunt cleared her throat. “Gabriel, take your wife to the blue bedchamber. She requires a bath and some pampering.”

  “Perhaps Lady Godown and I should return to Fugol Hall,” he suggested.

  “You shall do no such thing,” Bel declared. “I did not maneuver Grace to this house this evening just to have you spirit her away.”

  In unison, Gabriel and Grace said, “Maneuver? How?”

  Bel smiled knowingly. “Although Godown’s pride had turned away our efforts, I encouraged Aristotle to use his resources to locate you. Once I knew where you had sought employment, I convinced Madam Sophia I required professionals to staff the retiring rooms.”

  Grace asked curiously, “How did you know I had become a seamstress?”

  “Quite simple. You are an accomplished dressmaker. It made sense you would seek employment in an area that exploits your talents.” Bel summarized, “Now, I must return to the ballroom. Aris and I shall make the engagement official in one hour. I expect you two to make an appearance before that time. No more gossip regarding the Crowden family.” She declared, “You will dance together, supper together, and then you may return to Fugol Hall to enjoy your reunion.”

  “Yes, Tantine,” Gabriel said obediently.

  “But I have nothing to wear. I cannot attend a ball in this work gown,” Bel protested.

  Bel tutted her disapproval. “First, I doubt Godown cares what you wear, but I have anticipated your needs. After watching you for several days, Avery has found a gown she believes will serve you well.”

  “Avery is here?” Grace asked in surprise.

  “No more questions,” Bel ordered. “Godown, I will send your man to you. I am certain Granville can provide you a fresh neck cloth. Now, be off with you.”

  “Yes, Duchess,” they said together.

  Bel chuckled. “As if you hold the same thoughts.” She turned toward the house. “One hour,” she called over her shoulder.

  Gabriel ignored her retreating form. His lips returned to his wife’s. He could remain in this garden forever. Despite the craziness that had surrounded their congress, he considered this the most perfect moment of his short life. When he lifted his head, they were both panting for air. “If I do not follow Bel’s orders, you and I will make a greater spectacle than we have previously.”

  Grace glanced toward the house. “It will be heavenly to enter such a grand room on your arm,” she said wistfully.

  Gabriel’s heart was light. He teased, “You are susceptible to my charms, my Lady?”

  “No more so than you are to mine,” she retorted.

  “Then we both are to make calf eyes at each other, for I am hopelessly in love with my wife.”

  “You say the most delicious things, my Lord.”

  Gabriel said seductively, “Will my professions of devotion earn me a night in your bed?”

  Grace glanced down at her obviously plumper form. She blushed. “I cannot imagine you would find me desirable,” she confessed.

  He caught her hand and brushed it across his arousal. “I want you more than you could ever know,” he groaned into her ear. “I wish to demonstrate my fidelity.”

  Grace kissed his cheek. “I can think of nothing I desire more,” she rasped. “It will be a long evening.”

  Gabriel turned them toward the house. “Then let us do our duty to my aunts. Our lives begin this night. Years from now I will tell our children how my dearest wife fought the world’s evils to bring us together forever.”

  Three quarters of an hour later, he waited at the bottom of the main staircase for Grace to finish her ablutions. Mr. Sanders had brushed the dust from Gabriel’s jacket and breeches. A fresh cravat and a clean pair of white stockings restored his appearance. As he glanced once more at the landing, Gabriel explained to his associates, their ladies, Pennington, and Lord Damon his cousin Jonathan’s involvement in the madness of the past seven years.

  The Duke said in disbelief, “I would never have considered Isaacs to have had such perfidy in him. He always appeared so meek.”

  Pennington remarked, “Those types are usually the most dangerous. They are adept at convincing others to do the deeds, which leaves them shrouded in innocence.”

  “From Lady Gardenia’s child to the manipulation of Benjamin Talbot. We may lay the blame at Isaacs’ feet,” Gabriel summarized. He turned to the Duke. “As you are the family’s head, I will turn over the disposition of Isaacs’ case to you.”

  Pennington added, “I have secured Isaacs and his lady at headquarters. We turned Lady Cushing over to her husband. We may deal with them tomorrow. For now, I must find Bel or pay the price.” He chuckled as he walked away.
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  The Duke added, “I was not pleased to have my mother accept another man as her husband, but Pennington makes her happy.”

  Worthing noted, “The Duchess brings out the best in him.”

  Gabriel looked up at the sound of her tread on the steps. His breath rushed from his lungs. How had he ever thought her unremarkable? Grace was a vision of loveliness. A low cut gown of gold-embroidered cream satin hugged her curves. A string of pearls were woven among her auburn curls. He rushed to greet her. Wrapping her arm through his, Gabriel led Grace to where the others awaited them.

  “We should join my mother,” Lord Damon said with authority. “Godown, you and Grace are to assume your place among the family on the platform.”

  Gabriel felt Grace’s fingers tighten on his arm, but she said, “We would be honored, Your Grace.”

  As they assumed a position at the rear of the group to make an appearance without the others about, Gabriel whispered in Grace’s ear, “Are you prepared for the scrutiny?”

  “You did promise to remain by my side,” she said through tight lips.

  Gabriel chuckled, “The world will determine the Marquis of Godown resides in his wife’s pockets.”

  “And is happy to do so?” Grace teased.

  “Is ecstatic to do so,” he corrected. As their entourage parted, the ton received full proof of Gabriel’s affection for his marquise. He first turned his head to kiss Grace’s cheek, and then he brought her wrist to his lips. Despite the gauche behavior, more than one member of the beau monde broke into a smile. A deep sigh of approval announced the Marquis of Godown had found his great love.