A Winter Scandal

by Candace Camp

  The groom had worked quickly, despite being awakened in the middle of the night, and by the time they reached the stables, he had harnessed the pair of horses to the light open carriage. Gabriel gave Thea a hand up into the curricle, then hung the lantern from the front of it and climbed in to take the reins. The hood of the vehicle protected them in large part from the falling snow, but it did not keep the flakes from drifting in from the sides. Thea was grateful for the warm fur lap robe.

  The snow had completely covered the road by now, adding to the difficulty of seeing it in the darkness, but much of the lane was lined on one side or the other by a hedge, which made it easier to follow. The matched grays seemed to have little trouble staying on the road, though Thea noticed that Gabriel drove them at a much slower pace than he had the other day.

  “Tell me again what happened,” he said after they had maneuvered out of the Priory grounds and onto the main road into the village. “Everything.”

  Thea described to him how she had awakened and looked out at the snow, then had heard the noise and gone downstairs to investigate. She explained the drops of water she’d seen on the floor and the stairs, adding, “I realized that it had to be melted snow that had dripped off someone who had come inside since it started snowing. And I remembered that I had closed the door to my bedchamber, but it was open when I awoke.”

  “He had been in your room?” Gabriel’s hand clenched on the reins.

  “I assume he must have been looking for the baby. Matthew has always been in my room before—though I can’t imagine he would know that—but tonight Lolly took the baby to bed in her room because I was at the rehearsal. Oh, I wish I had brought his basket back to my chamber when I got home!”

  “Don’t blame yourself. Rawdon would have taken him no matter whose room he was in.”

  “But I might have heard him and awakened. Maybe I could have kept him from stealing Matthew, or at least raised an alarm.”

  “Yes, and you might have been hurt trying. Or you might have slept through it just as Lolly did. Don’t worry; we shall get him back. Hopefully Rawdon wouldn’t have been fool enough to set out for London in this snow. I don’t know what he hoped to accomplish by doing such a thing, other than to cause me some bad moments. Of course, he seems to think Jocelyn is with me, so perhaps his purpose was to force her to talk to him.”

  “At least I was somewhat reassured when I realized that it must have been Lord Rawdon who took the baby. I mean, he would not harm his own son, would he?”

  “I would not think so, though God only knows. I cannot understand his mind.”

  They reached the village sooner than Thea would have thought possible, given the snowstorm. When Gabriel pulled the curricle into the yard of the inn, it took a moment for an ostler to come hurrying out to take the team from him. The lad gave Gabriel an odd look, but that changed quickly enough to admiration when Gabriel pressed a silver coin into his palm. “Pull them in and keep them warm, but don’t unharness them just yet. Tell me, is Lord Rawdon still here? Has he ridden out tonight?”

  The ostler’s eyebrows went up. “That swell from London, sir? Nay, his black’s still in the stable, right and tight. Beautiful piece of horseflesh, that one.”

  “Yes, he is. Good.” Gabriel gave the boy a pat on the shoulder and turned to Thea, who had jumped down from the carriage while he was talking to the ostler. Gabriel took her arm, and they hurried into the inn.

  Gabriel veered into the public room as soon as he stepped inside, and Thea peeked curiously around his shoulder into what constituted Chesley’s main tavern. The fire in the great fireplace had burned down to embers, and a potboy was wrapped in a blanket, asleep on the rug in front of it. No one else was in the room.

  “Sir Myles and Mr. Carmichael aren’t here?” Thea asked. “Where could they be? We didn’t pass them on the road.”

  “There’s another place, ah, not too far away.” He shifted uncomfortably and glanced around. “They, um, know some people there.”

  Thea looked at him blankly for a moment, then colored as she realized what subject Gabriel was dancing around. “Oh! You mean … um, women. Of that sort.”

  “It’s a possibility,” he admitted, then turned quickly away and strode out the door. He walked to the stairs, bellowing, “Rawdon! Get out here!”

  Thea flinched at the noise, thinking rather belatedly of the other guests who might be staying there. Still, she could think of no other way to find the man. Knocking on every door in the place would wake everyone as well. She started up the stairs after Gabriel, who continued to shout the other man’s name. A door or two opened down the corridor, heads popping out to stare at them.

  “Blast it, Rawdon, answer me!”

  Two rooms down, a door slammed open and Lord Rawdon appeared in the doorframe. He was dressed in his shirtsleeves, waistcoat unbuttoned and his neckcloth gone, but he looked fully alert and not as if he had been in bed. Thea noted that he still wore his boots.

  “Holy hell, Morecombe!” he growled, stepping out into the corridor. “What are you doing? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Did you think that would stop me? Did you really hope to wait out the snowstorm and leave tomorrow morning before I found out? Well, I know, and I’m here, and by God you will give him back to me or I’ll tear you limb from limb.”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re blathering about.”

  Gabriel sneered and shoved past Rawdon into the room.

  “What the devil?” Rawdon turned to stare after Gabriel as he went into the center of the room and turned all around, looking. A candle burned on a low table by the bed, casting a dim yellowish glow over the place. It was not much light, but the room was small, and even Thea could see, standing out here in the corridor, that no child was in the room.

  “What the hell have you done with him?” Gabriel charged back out of the room.

  “With whom? Are you foxed?”

  “Of course I’m not foxed!” Gabriel roared. “Give him to me!”

  “Leave me alone. You’re bloody mad as a hatter.”

  “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” The innkeeper came pelting up the stairs behind them. His bony frame was swathed in a florid dressing gown, and a nightcap was tilted rakishly on his balding head. “Pray what is the matter here?” He smiled at them and genially nodded beyond them at the other guests who had emerged from their rooms. “Whatever the problem, I am sure we can sit down and discuss this peacefully. Perhaps downstairs.”

  Both men shot a contemptuous look at the innkeeper before turning back to face each other. Rawdon started back to his room, saying, “If you have nothing intelligible to say, I am going to bed.”

  “No, you are not.” Gabriel pulled one of his pistols from his pocket and aimed it at the other man. “You are going to tell me what you have done with Matthew.”

  Lord Rawdon crossed his arms in front of him and regarded Gabriel coolly. “No, I am not.”

  Gabriel drew back the hammer of the pistol with a click. The innkeeper let out a low moan and sagged against the wall. Thea thought he might faint, but she hadn’t the time to pay attention to him now.

  “Gabriel,” she said in a low voice, taking a step closer. “If you kill him, we shall have no way of knowing where Matthew is.”

  “You’re right.” Gabriel kept his eyes trained on Rawdon but lowered the pistol, easing the hammer back into place, and stuck it into his pocket. “I shall have to beat it out of him.”

  Rawdon straightened, a light sparking in his pale blue eyes. “Come ahead, then.” He brought up his fists, taking a boxing stance.

  Gabriel began to peel off his coat. The innkeeper darted in between them, spluttering, “No, my lord, please, my lord.” He looked pleadingly from one man to the other. “Surely this can be discussed civilly. Explained. Settled. There’s no need to resort to fisticuffs. Come downstairs, I’ll bring you a bottle of port …” He trailed off.

  The innkeeper could see, Thea thought, just as she coul
d, that both men were implacable. In another moment they would start circling each other like wolves, looking for an opening to jump in and rip one another apart. Thea slipped in between them, turning to look up at Lord Rawdon.

  “Please, my lord, please tell me where Matthew is. He will be lonely and afraid. He’s used to being with me. He does not know you, and wherever you have him, he could be cold or hungry.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  Rawdon drew back, for the first time looking faintly uneasy. “Madam, I don’t know who you are or why you keep turning up in front of me, and I have no idea who Matthew is. If I knew where he was, believe me, I would tell you so that I could get this madman out of here.”

  “Matthew is your son, you bloody bastard!” Gabriel roared, and started to step around Thea, but she shifted to keep between them.

  “The baby?” Rawdon stared at them. “You think I have Jocelyn’s child?” He brushed a hand back through his hair, cursing softly under his breath. “All right. I shall talk to you. But I suggest we remove our conversation to a room downstairs, as the innkeeper suggested.” He nodded toward Hornsby, saying, “And I think a bottle of brandy would be in order.”

  “Yes, my lord, right away.” The innkeeper bowed with relief and hurried off down the stairs.

  “I didn’t come here to sit down over a bottle of brandy with you and chat!” Gabriel told him furiously.

  Rawdon regarded Morecombe without expression. “Do you really want to have this conversation about the child here in the hall of the inn, in front of half a dozen people?” He gestured down the corridor, where every doorway held one or two guests, eagerly awaiting the rest of the drama.

  Gabriel’s gaze flickered to the onlookers, and he frowned. “No, of course not. We’ll go downstairs. But I swear, if you are playing some sort of game here …”

  “I don’t play games.” Rawdon closed the door to his room, then swung away and stormed down the stairs.

  Gabriel and Thea followed him. The innkeeper was waiting for them at the door of the public room. “I know it’s not proper, your having to go in here, miss, but everyone’s gone, and the fire is still warm.”

  “It’s perfectly all right,” Thea assured him.

  The innkeeper bustled about, bringing glasses and a bottle of brandy to the table closest to the fire, where Lord Rawdon already stood waiting.

  “Thank you, Hornsby.” Gabriel dismissed the innkeeper with a polite nod and waited until he had closed the door behind him before he turned to face Rawdon.

  “I suggest we start by sitting down,” Thea said, on the theory that it required more effort for seated men to get into a brawl than ones who were standing. She took a seat herself at the table, and after a brief pause and an exchange of measuring looks, the men followed suit.

  “I don’t have the boy,” Rawdon said flatly. “Of course I do not expect you to believe me or to believe that I am not the sort of person who would abduct a baby. But if you would think rationally, there is no reason for me to take that child.”

  “You threatened to take him this afternoon at the Priory.”

  Rawdon made an impatient gesture. “I said that only because you had irritated me beyond endurance, as usual. I had no intention of doing so. Why would I take him? He is not mine.”

  “You have the gall to deny that he is yours?” Gabriel stiffened. “One need only have eyes to see the resemblance.”

  “I am not the only man with blond hair and blue eyes.”

  “Are you accusing my sister of being a trollop? Are you saying that she slept with other men?”

  Rawdon shrugged lightly. “Obviously she slept with one other man.”

  With a low growl, Gabriel jumped to his feet, knocking over his chair.

  “Gabriel, no!” Thea threw herself at him, grabbing his arm.

  Rawdon, too, rose, his blue eyes blazing with pale fire. “That is ever your answer, is it not? I am growing tired of your taking a swing at me every time some uncomfortable truth arises and slaps you in the face. Believe me, if that boy were mine, I would take him from you. I would never allow anyone of my blood to remain in your hands. But I would not sneak into your house and steal him like a thief in the night. I would take him openly, legally, in a court of law. There would be no reason to do it any other way. You must realize that a father would win that battle. But he is not my child.” He spoke slowly, each word falling with the thud of a hammer stroke. “And you are welcome to him.”

  The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Then Gabriel let out a low oath and half turned away. Thea sank back down in her chair, suddenly empty and sick. Lord Rawdon’s words had the ring of truth. He was right in saying that a powerful and wealthy aristocratic father who claimed a child would likely win custody of a son in any court of law over the child’s uncle—or even over his mother, in all likelihood. And if Rawdon had taken Matthew, what had he done with him? The baby had obviously not been anywhere in the man’s room. Moreover, when she had looked more closely, she had seen that Rawdon’s gleaming Hessian boots did not bear a drop of melted snow or mud on them. Most telling of all, she had seen the blank astonishment in Lord Rawdon’s face when he had realized whom Gabriel was talking about. The man might be a villain and a liar, but she found it hard to believe he was that excellent an actor.

  “But … then … who is it?” she asked, her words almost a moan. She looked up at Gabriel, who gazed back at her bleakly. “Who took Matthew?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t know. The person who left him at the church, perhaps?” He sat down heavily and leaned his elbows on the table, shoving one hand back into his hair.

  Rawdon glanced at him sharply. “The person who left him at the church? What are you talking about? Surely Jocelyn brought the baby here.”

  “No. I told you: Jocelyn is not here. I have not seen her.”

  “I found the baby,” Thea explained. “He was abandoned by someone at the church—left in the manger.”

  Rawdon’s brows rose at this news. “But then … how do you know the baby is Jocelyn’s?”

  Silently Gabriel reached into his pocket and pulled out the brooch Thea had found on the infant and held it out toward Rawdon. Some sort of emotion flickered in Rawdon’s gaze and was gone too quickly for Thea to even identify it.

  “Good God.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “This is enough chatter. Clearly we are wasting time here.” He rose to his feet and began to button his coat. “We shall return to your house, Thea, and see if we can still find any tracks. Perhaps the snow will not have completely filled them in, and I can follow the abductor.”

  Thea stood up.

  “Wait,” Rawdon said. “I’ll get my coat and come with you.”

  Gabriel turned to him, surprise clear on his face. “Why?”

  Rawdon let out a snort. “I am sure you will come up with some sufficiently villainous reason for me to look for a baby lost in the middle of a snowy winter’s night.”

  Gabriel did not speak for a moment, then said merely, “Very well. Let’s go, then.”

  When they stepped outside, they found that the snow had increased, now covering the ground in a soft, thick blanket. It was a tight squeeze for three people in the curricle, but it was at least warmer, Thea acknowledged, being sandwiched in between two large males. The trip to the vicarage was short and silent, neither of the men saying a word.

  Gabriel halted the vehicle before the vicarage, and the two men got out to look for tracks, moving slowly along the street and up the path to the front door, holding out the lantern to cast its yellow circle of light over the newly fallen snow. Thea went around to the kitchen door and entered the house.

  Lolly sat huddled on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, a blanket wrapped around her, her tearstained face resting on her folded-up knees. She looked up hopefully when Thea entered, but her face fell when she saw that there was no baby in Thea’s arms.

  “Oh, miss! Did you not find him, then?”

  Thea shook
her head. “No. I assume you found no trace of him inside the house, either.”

  “No. I looked everywhere—twice! Who could have taken him, miss? Who would have done such a thing?”

  “I don’t know. I thought I knew, but apparently I was wrong, and now I haven’t any idea. But whoever it was, the baby should not be out in this weather. We must find him. The men are outside looking for tracks. Why don’t you make us some hot tea to ward off the chill? And maybe a bite to eat. I am going to get more properly dressed. We will have to search for him somehow.”

  Thea ran up the stairs and changed her clothes, pulling on her warmest wool dress and, beneath it, flannel petticoats and woolen stockings. She grabbed some blankets and the baby’s basket and carried them back downstairs to the kitchen. When she got back, Lolly had gotten the fire going and a pot of water was heating on its hook above it. A few moments later, the door opened and Gabriel and Rawdon entered, shaking the snow from their clothes.

  “We couldn’t find any decent tracks,” Gabriel said as they came forward to stand in front of the fire, stripping off their gloves and holding their hands out to the heat.

  “There were a few prints heading toward the church, but Morecombe said those would be yours, Miss Bainbridge,” Lord Rawdon added. “There are one or two in the yard that appeared to be leading into the road, but we could not find any that indicated which way he went after he reached the road.”

  “We must find them,” Thea said.

  “I’ll warrant I can catch him,” Gabriel said. “I’ll take my team over any mount he—or she—could be riding.”

  “She? Devil take it, do you really think it could be Jocelyn who took him?” Rawdon asked skeptically.

  “I cannot imagine it, but I am reaching the point where I no longer know what to think,” Gabriel admitted.

  “It cannot be your sister,” Thea said firmly. “Not unless she has run mad. The baby’s mother would not have to steal her child out of my house. All she need do is claim it. In any case, I cannot think a mother would expose her baby to this weather. It is terribly cold and wet, and what if they were to get stuck in a snowdrift somewhere? I cannot believe she would do so.”