“Gideon, no.” But her warning came too late. Her husband swooped in for a kiss, there, before the cream of society, until she became his slave, fell in with his plan, and gave herself up to his sensual assault.
Applause began, swelled, deafened, and brought them back to earth.
Then, as if an axe had fallen, the roar of approval ended and silence fell.
A man, almost pear-shaped in figure, imperfect, yet magnificent in dress and bearing, crossed the near-empty dance floor, making straight for them.
When the commanding man stopped, Gideon made him an elegant bow.
Heart hammering of a sudden, Sabrina could only think to award him the deep curtsey Grandmama had had her practicing for weeks, in the unlikely event that—
Oh, no, could this be the man for whom she had prepared?
“Shame on you, Stanthorpe,” the man said before Sabrina found his bright blue gaze trained on her, in a way that suggested he could see beneath her petticoats. Then she recognized him.
With one, silent, majestic look, the Prince Regent relegated her husband to the sidelines.
The Prince regarded the other dancing couple and made a shooing motion with his hand, sending Veronica and her escort scurrying off, like mice from a scullery bin.
Sabrina wished she had not again seen the retreating figure of Veronica’s escort. She might have enjoyed the moment more.
“My dear?” the Prince said. “You look as if you have taken a fright.”
“I...fear that the honor you do me weakens my knees to the point that I will swoon at your royal feet.”
The heir to the throne of England laughed, full-bodied, head thrown back, and swept Sabrina into his arms to complete the dance—thereby bestowing upon her Society’s coveted seal of approval.
Sabrina forgot her worry over Veronica’s escort and gave herself up to the amazing moment. And as they swept past Gideon, she caught him beaming with pride and appreciation.
Sabrina’s pleasure came more with her husband’s endorsement than with her future monarch’s lusty regard. She gave her royal partner her full attention, however, and flashed the smile Gideon earlier praised.
All and sundry named the ball a great success, perfect in every way. Everyone except Sabrina, herself.
Yes, she had made a conquest of The Prince of Wales.
Yes, Lady Veronica had scuttled away, tail between her legs, but then so had her nameless partner, a situation Sabrina still found disquieting. She tried to quiz Gideon on the identity of the man, but apparently her husband had never seen him before, either.
She knew she must soon consider telling Gideon of her concerns, and she would—consider it—after the first of the year.
For now, she decided, she would concentrate on getting through Christmas with Gideon and his grandmother.
Grandmama had a Yule log cut, which sat drying outside near the mews. In half an hour’s time, they were all to go in carriages to Epping Forest, near Wanstead, on the outskirts of town, to trudge the woods for holly and mistletoe, which they would use later to decorate the house together.
Everyone was going except Juliana, who would remain here at Grandmama’s with the nurse Grandmama hired. But Juliana chose this very morning to dawdle over her breakfast. Sabrina was trying to be patient with her when Gideon arrived to see where his wife had got to.
“Juliana does not seem to want to stop nursing,” she said. “Though I cannot believe she is still hungry after so long a time.”
Gideon bent over to regard the babe. “Good morning, Sweetpea. Mama says you are dawdling and holding up our gay Christmas parade through the woods. I cannot say as I blame you. I tend to dawdle myself over your delicious Mama.”
“Gideon!”
Juliana cooed and waved her hands in a great show of excitement when he spoke, and she lost her grip on her lunch with the smile she gave him.
“Good Lord, she has bestowed upon you her first smile,” Sabrina said, straightening her bodice. “Not that I am surprised. She became your slave, or you became hers, at her birth.”
“Are you my girl?” Gideon asked, taking the happy baby into his arms. “Are you my Sweetpea? I bet you would like to come with us, would you not? After all,” Gideon said, regarding Sabrina. “This is Christmas.”
“If we take her, she will require carrying, and we are not certain that the boys will not also require it.”
“Nonsense, if Grandmama is coming, the terrain cannot be so bad as that. Come, let us put our Julie in her woolens and take her with us. It is not so very cold today.”
“If you keep this up, by the time she is ten, she will have you jumping to her every wish.”
“And what else are Papas for, than to jump through the hoops their little girls set up for them?” Gideon asked his adoring daughter.
To make a merry party, they decided they should all travel in the same carriage—Gideon, Sabrina, the twins, the baby, and Grandmama. One problem, Damon and Juliana both insisted, rather loudly, that they required the exact same spot on Gideon’s lap.
Everyone took turns trying to hold Juliana, but she would only quiet when Gideon took her.
Grandmama crowed and took Rafferty onto her lap. “I shall have my favorite with me,” she said, earning Rafe’s adoration.
“And I shall take Damon,” Sabrina said. “As we can insist that he keep quiet, and save all our ears.”
“Done,” Gideon said, trading a whining four-year-old for a screaming baby, and when silence descended, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, though to soothe Damon’s pout, Gideon gave him a wink.
The trudge through heath and grass, toward groves of hornbeam, beech and oak, turned out to be wet and chill, but brisk and invigorating. It was Christmas after all. Their footsteps in turn crunched and squished, as the layer of snow from the day before had already begun to melt in places. But everyone persisted, the boys chattering and running, in turn, except when they were rewarded with deer sightings, and they turned still as statues to watch.
Finally they came to a coppice edged by a huge holly, bright with berries in its upper branches.
“The berries are too high up in the tree,” Sabrina said.
“Nonsense, Gideon can reach them,” Grandmama said. “Can you not, my boy?”
“Of course, but someone else will have to take Juliana.”
“I will take her,” Sabrina said. “She looks sleepy enough not to care who holds her.”
Juliana, it turned out, did care, but everyone ignored her wailing. They were too busy watching, with baited breath, as Gideon climbed an oak near the holly bush, chosen for the mistletoe clinging to its upper branches. When he reached up and caught the thick-leafed parasite, lush with waxy-white berries, high above him, water rained down on him in torrents.
Gideon shouted with the cold shower but discovered that, rather than garner sympathy, he had become a laughing stock. Between Sabrina and his Grandmama, he could not tell which of them was more highly entertained, but he suspected that it might be Sabrina.
Standing high above them, Gideon tossed the great bunch of mistletoe he had won, and got back a bit of his own, as it sprinkled the lot of them. Then he placed his hands on his hips and looked down his nose at them with haughty disdain. “Take care, Sabrina, if you please, not to laugh yourself so silly that you drop the baby.” Which speech somehow managed to tickle her and his Grandmama the more.
Even the boys laughed, especially Rafferty. A good sight that, Gideon thought. “Well, young Rafferty,” he said. “I suppose you think you can do better?”
Smiling, Rafe nodded up at him, so Gideon climbed down and put the boy up in the tree, climbing up behind him.
“Gideon, what do you think you are doing?” Sabrina shouted. “Bring that boy down here, at once.”
Gideon laughed. “This boy is going to reach us some holly.”
Sabrina gasped but Gideon held Rafe tight at his waist, while the boy climbed onto an oak branch, less sturdy than would hold a man’s weig
ht. And Rafe managed to become the hero of the day, earning hugs and a slap on his back, even, from Damon.
One more climb, so Damon could have his turn, and they had enough holly and mistletoe to decorate Basingstoke Manor and then some.
After they returned, changed into dry clothes and partook of hot chocolate and iced gingerbread men, Sabrina made a kissing bough with the mistletoe, and Grandmama fashioned wreaths and garlands with the holly.
Rafe and Damon were set to cutting and painting gold and silver stars and bells with which to decorate the garlands, while Juliana’s cradle, in the center of the holiday bustle, sat empty.
With Juliana on his shoulder, Gideon happily supervised. But he could not help consider past Christmases, and a question that had often nagged him as a child, plagued him again now.
Gideon set Juliana in her cradle and went to his grandmother. He kissed her cheek and placed an arm about her shoulders. “Why did you not take me when I was the twins’ age?”
Her eyes filled on the instant. “I tried, but they would not let me have you,” she whispered. “I am so sorry.”
Gideon brought her close. “Shh. I did not mean to make you cry. I have always wondered. You were my ray of sunshine during those years, my one source of hope, did you know that? You will never know how much you meant to me, then, and how much more you mean to me now.”
Damon snorted. “I think you are supposed to be kissing Mama under that kissing bow, not Grandmama.”
Gideon gave his grandmother a smacking kiss. “No, young man. You are wrong. I am supposed to kiss all the girls under the kissing bow.” He left his grandmother, went for his wife and waltzed her, laughing, toward the spot beneath it.
The kiss he gave Sabrina lasted longer and ended with applause from their audience.
Then he went for Juliana and danced with her on his shoulder until he held her up beneath the mistletoe and kissed her on her bubbly little heart-shaped mouth.
That entertained the devil out of the boys, until Gideon made each of them kiss their baby sister under the mistletoe, their Great-Grandmama, then their mother.
The Yule log was brought into the great hall a short while, later, and the servants gathered round.
Veering slightly from tradition, Gideon chose two sturdy brands, out of several saved from last year’s log, and handed one each to Rafe and Damon.
One on each side of the giant log, the boys set tinder to flame with the burning brands, and everyone cheered.
Gideon placed his arm around Sabrina’s shoulders. “Best of luck, in the year to come, and Happy Christmas to all.”
After long afternoon naps, even the boys were allowed to stay up late, to take the holly-festooned carriage to St. George’s, Hanover Square, for the midnight service.
Rafe fell asleep at about the same moment the Vicar began his sermon, and so Gideon took him on his lap, smoothing the hair from his eyes as he cradled this stubborn, contemplative twin against his chest.
In Gideon’s heart, aloneness and unworthiness vanished. In their place stood life, celebration, family. Instinct told him to run, that this heady sentiment could not last, that he would end the worse for having grasped and lost it.
That was when he knew that he would never be sorry for taking on Sabrina and her children, nor for caring about them, no matter what the future held.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
For once in his life, Gideon did not care how long the sermon lasted. Instead, he opened himself up to the Christmas message, drawing strength from Rafe, asleep on his lap, and Damon and Sabrina beside him.
These were moments to savor, family moments that might keep the wonder of Christmas alive throughout the year.
He had already received so many new and amazing gifts, Gideon could not keep his joy inside and found it emerging as a smile.
He caught Sabrina watching him, then, her expression reflecting the emotion inside him, while something warm, uplifting, even spiritual, passed between them. There and then, Gideon experienced the holiness of Christmas, and understood its true meaning for the first time.
Rather than awaiting the completion of the final Christmas carol in impatient silence, he sang Joy to the World, and he meant every word.
Back at Basingstoke, after everyone was tucked into bed, neither he nor Sabrina spoke of Christmas morning, which made Gideon think he must have a treat in store. They merely climbed into bed and reached for each other, embracing, as if they had become each other’s personal anchor.
“This was the best Christmas ever,” Sabrina said as she drifted off. Wait until tomorrow, Gideon thought, smiling.
In the morning, however, everything seemed different. The boys were cranky and furtive, holding their pets close, as if someone might jump out and take them away. And when Gideon spoke to them, they acted as if he should not notice them skulking about the house, looking miserable.
He remembered feeling just so as a child on Christmas, always a particularly lonely day for him, with his parents either away partying, or partying at home, without him.
Occasionally, he saw them exchange gifts with the servants, with friends, with each other, but never with him. He always received the oranges and sugar plums cook sent up with eagerness, and he was grateful, but he had also known that there must be something more.
To his mother and her new husband, wrapped up in each other as they were, he did not seem to exist, a situation he came to accept, eventually, though he always did resent it.
This year, he could barely wait to give everyone the gifts he had purchased for them. Except that Sabrina needed to finish feeding Juliana first. He had only come downstairs at all, to help Grandmama pass out gifts to her staff.
When that was done, however, he searched out the boys and marched their mulish-faced selves up the stairs to the master suite.
Sabrina was just putting Juliana into her cradle when he knocked and they entered her bedchamber.
“I thought we could have a quiet Christmas celebration of our own up here,” he said. “Before we give Grandmama her gifts.”
But no reaction did Gideon receive from Sabrina or the boys.
“You do exchange gifts, do you not?” Suspicion niggled at him.
They, all three, looked at him as if he had grown horns and turned blue.
“Do you object philosophically to gift-giving, then, Sabrina?”
“Do I?”
“That is my question. You all seem so, I do not know, rigid or frightened.” And then he thought that, perhaps, no gifts had been allowed them previous to this, or they could not afford any.
“Sit,” he said. “Everybody up on Mama’s bed.” He lifted Damon onto the bed and Rafe scrambled up on his own. “There you go. I have surprises. Wait here.”
Before he entered his own bedchamber, Gideon caught Sabrina shrugging at the boys, as if perhaps he had grown horns, after all, or gone daft.
When he took his stash of gifts from the bottom of his cupboard, Gideon feared that perhaps he had not purchased enough. He had assumed that Sabrina would also have gifts for the boys. But if that were not the case, then his would have to suffice as a little something with which to celebrate the day.
Both boys had moved up close to Sabrina by the time he looked in on them from his room. She held them, in a protective embrace, one on each side of her, as if she would defend them to the death.
“I am not going to ask what is wrong,” Gideon said, standing in the doorway. “But I must say, I am puzzled. Nevertheless, Happy Christmas, Damon and Rafferty.” He carried from his bedchamber, with great flourish, two large, gaily-painted wooden rocking horses, one for each boy.
No one on Sabrina’s bed moved. No one seemed capable.
Gideon stood alone between the two rocking horses, feeling foolishly deflated.
“One of you will please say something,” he begged. “I feel rather stupid and...conspicuous at the moment,” which speech seemed to open some invisible flood gate.
They were suddenly all th
ree crying. Sabrina wept quietly, but the boys cried in great wracking sobs.
Gideon abandoned the horses and went to sit beside them on the bed. He took them, all three, inasmuch as he could, into his arms. Runny noses abounded. He tried to pass them his handkerchief, but they were so overcome, he had to wipe their noses himself, even Sabrina’s.
She laughed when he did, then she cried the more.
All he could do was soothe his wife, squeeze the boys shoulders and ruffle their small, dark heads. He hugged and tried to calm each one, in turn, but to no avail. And none seemed able to explain.
“I wanted to make our first Christmas special,” he said when tears finally slowed. “I did not intend to ruin the day. To tell you the truth, I do not even know where I went wrong, but I am sorry. So very sorry.”
“Mama?” Damon asked, a new and brighter glint to his eye.
Sabrina regarded Gideon and she cupped his cheek in her hand, which he loved, so he turned his face to kiss her palm.
“Boys,” she said, without taking her gaze from him. “I believe it is safe for you to go and play with your rocking horses.”
“Safe?” Gideon watched Rafe and Damon approach the horses for all the world as if the steeds might rear up and crush them beneath their hooves.
To Gideon’s silent inquiry, Sabrina shrugged. “I attempted for several Christmases to sneak gifts to the boys,” she said. “But, last year, I did not even try. It was too painful a day to repeat, so we did not celebrate at all.”
“You will not hurt Mama for giving us gifts,” Damon said, and Gideon was surprised to find the boy back beside them, leaning on the bed. He was also speechless at Damon’s comment.
“And you will not smack us for playing with them.” Damon spoke with surety.
Gideon turned to Sabrina. “I knew he struck all of you at one time or another, but at Christmas for the giving of gifts?”
Sabrina raised her chin. “One of many reasons I ran to Hawksworth.”
Undeniable Rogue (The Rogues Club Book One) Page 16