by Kit Donner
Madelene turned her attention to Gabriel with a fond smile. How considerate of her husband to make such an offer, after all that had passed between her brother and him.
“I can’t wait to leave here. I’d like to be on a coach tomorrow.” Matthew made no apology for being aggravated and impatient.
“Matthew, please.” She walked over to his bedside. “Say no more. We can’t have you unwell and unfit to travel. You may further exacerbate your wound.”
His mouth remained in a thin line. “I find it rather difficult to remain in a home where the master of the house has grievously injured his guest.”
Madelene backed away from her brother, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Matthew, I’m sure the medicine the surgeon gave you must give you thoughts you would otherwise not entertain.”
Her brother stared unrelenting at her. “Why don’t you ask your husband why he didn’t kill me the other night?”
Madelene shook her head, trying to understand the enormity of his words. How could he be saying such things? Surely, he couldn’t believe Gabriel had—no, it wouldn’t bear thinking about it.
Before Madelene could begin to defend him, Gabriel interjected, already having left his chair to approach Matthew and his suspicions. “I don’t care for your brand of humor. For surely, that is what this must be. I do not know who did you harm the other night, but it certainly was not me. I found you and brought you home. If I wanted you dead, I would have left you where you lay.” His voice grew colder with each word.
Both men warred silently with each other as Madelene stared helplessly. Who should she believe?
Matthew responded defiantly, “Perhaps you had a change of heart and decided I held some purpose after all. Perhaps you wanted to hurt my sister with my death on your hands. Any number of reasons will do.”
“Matthew, stop. You don’t know what you’re saying. Gabriel couldn’t, he simply couldn’t.” Tears clawed into her throat and into her voice, until she could no longer stand the sight of her accusing brother and her silent husband.
She needed to find solace, a sanctuary. Madelene ran outside and down the terraces until she found the little pond gracing the lawn. A flat stone provided a seat where she could rest and wrap her arms around her legs. She refused to shed any more tears for her brother or her husband and the predicament in which she found herself. But her head did ache. Did she have to choose between them? One of them lied, but who?
If Matthew lied about who tried to kill him, why? What could his motive be? Or was it possible Gabriel could have tried to finish what he started over a year ago on the dueling field?
“Madelene.” She heard the voice call softly.
She looked up to find Gabriel standing on a rise near her, then bowed her head, afraid he might notice the hesitation in her eyes.
A few minutes passed before Gabriel descended the last few steps until he could join Madelene on the large boulder overlooking the pond. He sat down and took her hand in his. Madelene felt his gentle touch under her chin, lifting her head to gaze at him. In his warm brown gaze, she saw a man known for his honest dealings and sincerity, and something more.
“I would hope you believe me when I say I could never hurt your brother. Not now.”
She wanted to believe him. The earnest look he gave her almost broke whatever part of a heart she still possessed. “I don’t understand, why would Matthew lie?” she asked him miserably.
He could only shrug. “I cannot say I understand your brother’s motives.”
“But you were hit on the head. Perhaps you did still have the dagger and maybe you did stab him, but didn’t mean to.” She knew she grasped at the strings of a wildly dancing balloon of fancy.
He gave her a peculiar look. “Do you believe me capable of injuring another when I am unconscious?”
She shook her head and looked away. “Truly not one of my more rational thoughts.”
Gabriel took her hands within his own. “Madelene, believe me. Hold on to me. If you give me the chance, I’ll find out if it was the count or another who wanted your brother dead.”
Madelene closed her eyes, shuttering at the word “dead.”
Before she could respond, they heard a voice calling.
“Mr. Westcott! Mr. Westcott! There’s someone here, you must come!”
They both glanced up in time to watch Mrs. Lavishtock appear over one of the stoned terraces. Madelene frowned, completely drained of all emotions save curiosity.
She turned to Gabriel. “What could Mrs. Lavishtock have on her mind that she must come and not send a footman to retrieve us?”
He easily rose and drew her up with him. “I think we shall discover presently.”
When Gabriel and Madelene arrived back at the house, they found many of the servants gathered in the hall, watching a foreign woman with a babe in her arms chattering in Italian to Alec. Nearby, a strange man hopped about, doing his best to avoid Falstaff’s sharp teeth. The little dog seemed determined to take a bite out of the stranger’s ankle.
Gabriel worked his way through the group gathered to hear the conversation. Although he knew a smattering of Italian, he would need Alec to translate.
The realization suddenly dawned on him.
The baby! Lucinda and Matthew’s baby.
How could he have forgotten the date? Had it already been eight months since his birth? George Matthew Westcott. In preparation for his plans to marry Madelene and all the events which followed, he had forgotten the tenth of June was the agreed date for little George’s Italian nanny to bring him to Westcott Close.
Before Gabriel had left Italy, he arranged for Donna Bella Vincenzio and her brother, Carlos, to bring Lucinda’s son to Westcott Close, since Gabriel planned to raise George as his own. He neglected to realize the time he needed to prepare Madelene for this addition to their household.
Although concerned about his wife’s reaction, first he had to see to the baby. He held up his hand to stop the conversation between the two women. “Alec, let’s move this discussion to the front parlor,” he directed.
Gabriel dismissed all the servants save Mrs. Lavishtock and Windthorp. The two foreigners, Madelene, Alec, the housekeeper, and the valet joined him in the sea green–draped room.
Even with all the loud chatter, the baby continued to sleep swaddled in his basket at Donna Bella’s feet while she sat on one of the matching green settees. He remembered the Italian woman, a little slip of a woman with a plain sad face and small black eyes. Her gray color already outshone her original deep black hair.
Donna Bella’s brother, seated next to her, was more animated, with a big smile and even bigger laughter, although his frown indicated he understood little, if any, English.
Alec sat at the end of the settee, across from Gabriel and Madelene. “Donna Bella says she brought the baby as promised and the baby is well. She would even like to stay on and care for the baby since she has become quite taken with him. Her brother would remain here for a time before returning to Italy. They would like you to find work for him here.”
With his wife at his side, remaining speechless, Gabriel nodded. “Tell Carlos we will find a place for him.” He looked at Donna Bella but spoke to Alec. “Alec, tell Donna Bella I am pleased with the care she has taken of the baby.”
Alec and Donna Bella and Carlos all exchanged words, then brother and sister smiled brightly at Gabriel and Madelene.
“Alec, do they, either of them, understand or speak any English?”
Alec frowned and turned to her compatriots again. Another conversation ensued, then the young woman looked at Gabriel and shook her head. “Very little.”
He brushed his hands through his hair before he said to Alec, “Will you consider staying longer, until everyone is more comfortable?”
Alec shrugged. “Sì, if you request this of me.”
He nodded and told her, “I think that would be best.” In surprise, he watched Madelene leave his side to walk over to Donna Bella and kneel to look a
t the sleeping baby.
“May I hold him?” she asked Donna Bella softly, breaking the silence. To illustrate her request, she folded her hands into a cradle position and rocked them back and forth.
When the older woman smiled at Madelene and nodded, Madelene carefully picked the baby out of the basket and placed him against her chest, folding his blankets around him. She stood in the middle of the room and gently swayed with the baby, leaning her head against the child’s.
She flabbergasted Gabriel. Why would she want to hold a stranger’s baby, not her own? Why hadn’t she asked any questions or at least shot accusing and angry glances at him?
However, she did nothing but give all her attention to the infant. His wife seemed perfectly content to coo and watch the baby’s face, touching his cheek with the back of her finger. It shouldn’t possibly be this easy. He sighed and relaxed inwardly. Perhaps Madelene could save the situation.
The baby’s sudden crying interrupted his thoughts.
“Oh! Oh dear!” Madelene looked helplessly to Gabriel, then to Mrs. Lavishtock. She tried jiggling him, but he wouldn’t stop, his cries grew louder and louder.
Mrs. Lavishtock hefted herself out of her chair. “I’ve raised my sister’s children. I know what needs to be done. Let me have him.” Quick as a blink, Mrs. Lavishtock plucked little George from Madelene’s arms and ambled out the door. “It’s either one end or t’ other!” she shouted over her shoulder.
When Gabriel jumped to his feet, everyone else rose as well, assuming the discussion at an end.
Madelene walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm, her expression unreadable. “I need to speak with Mrs. Lavishtock about the arrangements for the new houseguests.” Before she left, she went to the brother and sister and said quietly to them, “Grazie, Donna Bella and Carlos, for bringing the baby to us,” then gracefully departed the room.
Gabriel continued to stare after his wife. The woman was a complete puzzlement to him. He silently thanked fate or whatever deities had handed him a compassionate and understanding wife.
He gestured to the door. “Come, let’s go to my study, where we’ll discuss what needs to done.”
Alec jabbered in apparent translation to the couple who nodded over and over, then followed Gabriel out the parlor door.
“I hear we have a new member in the household. How does the little brat fare?” Matthew reclined on his bed, holding his right side.
On the opposite side of the room, Gabriel, with his fists resting on the chair’s armrails, watched his brother-in-law, his eyes narrowed. Surely Matthew must have wondered what Gabriel could possibly want with him, other than to learn how soon he would be taking his leave of them. How soon could he travel where Madelene would not worry about him? Probably never, he thought to himself grimly.
Gabriel gritted his teeth. “Please refer to the baby as George or not at all.”
Matthew shrugged his shoulders. “In the hospitality of your home, I can honor that request.”
Inwardly, Gabriel winced hearing Matthew actually use the word “honor,” since Madelene’s brother appeared to possess so little of it himself. He was surprised Matthew actually understood the meaning.
“Pray tell me why you are visiting my sickbed, because the time is ripe for my afternoon nap.” Matthew yawned, either weary from Gabriel’s presence or his own discomfort.
Gabriel perused his subject, wanting Matthew to spin in the wind, imagining what his sister’s husband could possibly want with him. “While I am extremely interested in your estimation of when you might be departing our home, I do have a question only you can answer.” Gabriel saw Matthew stiffen, almost as if he knew what would be asked of him.
Matthew gave him a thin smile. “Let me not keep you guessing any longer. Ask away.” He fluttered his hand, looking bored.
Gabriel stared hard at his brother-in-law, convinced if Matthew prevaricated, he would know immediately. “Why have you lied to your sister about what happened the night you were stabbed?”
Matthew’s eyes widened. Obviously Gabriel’s question had caught him unawares. “To what are you referring exactly?”
“You told your sister I tried to kill you. Why did you create such a falsehood? You and I know it was not how you described. The only logical explanation would be the count. He hit me and stabbed you. Enlighten me as to your reasoning.”
“I’m not convinced it did not happen as I said. The events of that night are playing strange tricks on my memory. It was a grievous wound, as you know, and I almost died.” He sighed. “What difference does any of this make? You have Madelene and a new babe to care for. I’ll be leaving as soon as Longhorn says I can travel. Not to darken your door any longer.” Matthew slumped farther into his bed, signaling their conversation at an end.
But Gabriel shook his head. “I know you to be a liar. I do not bandy that word about lightly, especially regarding my own brother-in-law. However, you have lied to your sister that I tried to kill you, and before you leave, you will confess the truth to her. Or at least, if your memory does not serve you well, you will tell her you cannot be sure it was I behind your intended demise.”
Gabriel rose from his chair, anger stirred in him. He had been unable to convince Matthew the necessity of telling everyone, especially his sister, the truth of that night. More and more, Gabriel had concluded Madelene was best left in his care, and not her brother’s. He understood all too easily that family blood and connections meant little to Matthew. Difficult to believe Madelene and Matthew were full-blooded siblings, for they were so different in nearly every way.
His wife, Madelene. She possessed as much of the honor and love for her brother as he lacked for her.
A knock on the door interrupted Gabriel’s leave-taking.
Hazelby’s head appeared around the edge of the door. “Pardon my knock, but there’s a Mr. Brelford here to see Mr. Colgate.” He waited at the door for a reply.
Matthew sat up with great exaggerated pain, but his body remained alert. His weariness seemed to have vanished.
“Please show him in. I would like to talk to my friend.” Matthew looked over at Gabriel to explain. “He is a friend from London and must have heard of my misfortune.”
Gabriel considered his next move. Matthew wasn’t planning to impart any new information, since his direct verbal attack had done nothing other than put him on his guard.
Wait. Brelford.
The name of Madelene’s intended bridegroom. Gabriel’s suspicion was immediately aroused. Perhaps Matthew wouldn’t tell him anything further, but Brelford might be enticed to do so.
Gabriel spoke to Hazelby. “By all means, please welcome Mr. Brelford into our house and show him to Sir Colgate’s room.” He looked at Matthew as he walked toward the door. “I hope you have a pleasant visit with your friend. But I warn you. Our conversation is far from over.”
After he departed Matthew’s bedchamber, Gabriel sought Windthorp immediately. He gave instructions to his valet to learn as much as he could about the relationship between Brelford and Colgate.
“Whatever are you doing here?” Matthew demanded of his friend. The last he had seen of Brelford was at the inn with a tankard in his hand.
Brelford sat in the same spot Gabriel had occupied earlier, wringing his hands. “Oh, dear. Oh dear. I didn’t know what to do. I stayed at the inn waiting till the time was right. When the dust settled, I figured it would be safe to come around.”
Matthew shook his head. “You should have stayed at the inn till I sent for you.”
Brelford lowered his head, his shoulders slumped. “I was concerned about you,” he said meekly.
Impatient, realizing this conversation would get nowhere, Matthew changed the subject. “Did you see anything or hear anything the night I was to meet the count?” His mouth turned grim. “He owes me. For the dagger and this,” he said, pointing to his bandaged wound, which had incapacitated him.
Brelford nodded. “I thought to stay hidden, b
ut I worried over you and drew closer.” He shuddered. “I saw the count stab you, and fearful he might find me cowering beyond the tree, I escaped, not wanting to be his next victim.”
Matthew stared hard at his friend. “You didn’t stay to discover if I lived or died?”
Brelford couldn’t look him in the eye. “I truly thought you were done for. It was terribly upsetting,” he ended in a whimper.
Waving his hand in disgust, Matthew remembered the diamonds. “Do you know why the dagger was of vital importance to the count?” When Brelford shrugged his ignorance, Matthew continued. “Apparently, there were diamonds in the dagger’s hilt, but they were missing. The count, in his anger, stabbed me, believing I had tricked him and stolen the diamonds. Of course, I had no knowledge of those gems, but I know who does.”
At Brelford’s blank face, Matthew scoffed. “Why, Westcott! He must have found the diamonds and removed them from the dagger. At our meeting, he had the dagger with him and was on the point of handing it to me when the count sneaked up behind him and hit him on the head.”
Matthew struggled to sit up farther and pinned Brelford with his hard look. “I must find those diamonds, or Taglioni might decide it is not necessary for me to continue breathing. Unfortunately, if I attempted to declare the count an attempted murderer, his cohorts would dispatch me, and quickly.”
Sitting at the edge of his chair, Brelford turned pale, and he shook his head. “What can we do? Have you thought of anything?”
“Yes, what if I asked Colgate to make room for you here? Since I am tied to this bed, you might be able to search the house for the jewels.”
Lips twisted, his friend frowned at the suggestion. “I don’t think that will do. Westcott and your sister would not likely welcome me with open arms.”
Matthew reluctantly agreed. “Yes, probably not.” He tapped on the counterpane for a lingering moment. “Why do you not go back to the inn and await word from me? I’ll arrive at a plan that will get us the diamonds and heading back to London.”