A Winter Scandal

by Candace Camp

  He swung out of bed and rang for his valet, hoping that movement would help dispel his thoughts of Thea. Ridiculous as it seemed, he had been feeling as if something were missing ever since he’d left her at the vicarage the night before. He had gone upstairs to his room last night as soon as he returned, having no desire to see any of the others or explain what had happened. But once he had bathed and changed and lain down, he had found himself curiously unable to sleep. The problem, he knew, was that he missed having Thea in bed beside him.

  Even stranger was that the feeling was still there this morning. He decided to drive over to see her after breakfast, then remembered that it was Christmas. She would be feasting with her family and friends. No doubt she would go to church this morning; she was the vicar’s sister, after all. Any call he made on her would have to wait until this afternoon. He wondered if it would cause gossip in the village if he called on her on Christmas Day. He was beginning to think that almost anything he did would cause gossip in the village.

  His valet brought tea and toast to ward off Gabriel’s hunger until the feasting began. Gabriel ate, staring out the window toward the ruins of the abbey in the distance, then shaved and dressed in the clothes Barts had laid out for him. He glanced at his watch after he attached it to his vest and was appalled to see how little time had passed. The day was going to prove endless, he feared.

  He had slept late, and dressing was a long process, made even more so by his valet’s obsessive attempt to tie Gabriel’s neckcloth in a perfect and intricate arrangement of Barts’s own devising. Barts’s earnest and heartfelt desire was to create a new style of tying a neckcloth, one that would equal or surpass all others, and which he would have the satisfaction of naming. Their visit to the country had allowed him the opportunity to experiment without having to expose his creations to the criticisms of the polite world, and he had indulged himself upon every occasion when Gabriel did not balk at the lengthy procedure. Today Gabriel had given him free rein, intent only on passing the time until he could reasonably call on Thea.

  Therefore it was almost noon when he made his way downstairs, and he found that his friends had already started imbibing their holiday cheer. He was immediately bombarded with questions about what had happened the other night when Miss Bainbridge had appeared in the middle of the night, forcefully pounding on the front door. Alan and Myles, having been absent during the scene itself, had heard about it in great detail the next day, and all of them, it seemed, had spent Christmas Eve speculating on what had happened to Gabriel.

  Out of politeness, he delayed telling his story until Emily joined them, which had the practical benefit of allowing him to mentally tailor his story to expunge all mention of Thea’s having accompanied him on the rescue of the baby. He regaled them with the tale over their Christmas dinner, describing everything from the visit to Rawdon at the inn down to his fight with the abductor.

  “So you didn’t recognize the chap?” Myles asked, frowning.

  “No, though I would not guarantee that I haven’t seen him before. He was wearing a hat and scarf wrapped round it to keep it on, and he had the scarf around most of his lower face as well. It was bloo—excuse me, Emily—it was black as pitch out there, too. I couldn’t get a good look at him.”

  “But what did you do then?” Alan paused in cutting his meat. “I mean, where did you go after you found him?”

  “We stayed in the cottage where I found the kidnapper. He had it well stocked.”

  “You mean, you and the baby alone?” Alan goggled at him. “What did you do with it?”

  “The baby? I took care of him, what else could I do? We slept, mostly.”

  Alan shook his head, seemingly more impressed by the thought that Gabriel had managed to handle a baby for a day than he had been by Gabriel’s chase through the snowstorm after the abductor.

  “Well, at least you know now that Alec was not involved,” Myles offered, pushing away his plate and taking a sip of wine.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Ian protested. “Rawdon could have hired this chap to steal the baby. That way he could whisk it away while establishing an alibi for himself at the inn.”

  “Really, Ian, that’s a trifle convoluted, isn’t it?” Myles replied. “How could he have been certain that Gabe would discover the baby missing and come storming over there in the middle of the night to find Alec all snug and safe in his bed? Gabriel only knew the child was missing because Miss Bainbridge awoke and came over here. Rawdon could scarcely count on that happening. The odds would be that Gabriel would not accuse him of kidnapping Matthew until long after it happened, and how could he have proved that he’d been there all night?”

  “Perhaps he could not prove it, but he would be there, clearly without the baby, and that would establish his innocence.”

  “You mean to say he planned this and hired a man to steal the child all in the few hours after he came to the Priory—and in a village where he knew no one?” Myles scoffed.

  “Perhaps he had it all planned before he came and that is why he came here to begin with.”

  Gabriel stiffened. “You’re right. I had forgotten all about that in the excitement.”

  “You think he stole the baby?” Myles asked. “I thought you just said—”

  “No. I don’t believe he kidnapped Matthew. Or arranged it, either. I think he was probably telling the truth about that. He was right in saying that he could take Matthew away from me in court if he wanted, and he would be bloody minded enough to do it despite all the scandal that would ensue. But there must be some reason why Rawdon came here. He wouldn’t just drop in to the Priory to say hello. I meant to discover the reason if I could, but the abduction drove it out of my head.”

  “What do you mean?” Alan asked. “He came here because of the baby. He must have heard that the lad was here.”

  “How would he have known?” Gabriel pointed out, and they all swung their heads toward Myles.

  He made a face. “Why are you looking at me? I didn’t tell him.”

  “Even if Myles had written to him, there wouldn’t have been enough time for Rawdon to get the letter and come here,” Gabriel said. “The baby hasn’t been in Chesley that long.”

  “Besides,” Myles pointed out. “I don’t think Alec knew about Matthew. He was completely taken by surprise when he heard the boy was Jocelyn’s.”

  “But that is just it.” Emily’s words took everyone by surprise, as she had been silent throughout the whole exchange, and all the men turned to look at her. She looked somewhat taken aback at the attention, but she lifted her chin a fraction and went on, “We don’t really know that this child is Jocelyn’s. The only ‘proof’ you have is a piece of jewelry that anyone could have pinned to his clothes. I, for one, don’t believe it. I did not know your sister very well, Gabriel, but I found her to be a good, sweet girl. She was not the type to, well, you know …” Emily trailed off, looking flustered.

  “Quite right, my dear,” her husband agreed. “We are making a rather large assumption. That baby could belong to anyone. It is my belief that someone is playing a trick on you, Gabriel. This boy is doubtless some lowborn child. His mother got hold of that brooch somehow and left it with him where you would hear about it. Obviously she hoped that you would react precisely as you did—assume the baby was your sister’s and take him in.”

  “Ian’s right,” Alan agreed. “It’s all a hum. You should send the boy to a foundling home.”

  “He can hardly do that if there’s any chance Matthew is Jocelyn’s child,” Myles retorted. “What you ought to do is bring the baby to the Priory. Plenty of protection here. I don’t think you’d have some chap breaking in and grabbing him, not with all of us around, not to mention the servants.”

  “Quite right,” Ian agreed, making a toasting gesture with his glass. “Bring the little fellow over here. After all, we are perfectly respectable now that we have a woman in the household. I am sure Emily would love to have a baby about, wouldn
’t you, my dear?”

  Gabriel had to press his lips together tightly to keep from laughing. Emily looked as if she had swallowed a fly. But she smiled gamely and said, “Yes, of course, that sounds like just the thing. It would be delightful, no doubt, to have a little one in the house. Of course, I do not know how much longer we shall be here. We have already imposed on your hospitality a great deal.”

  “Nonsense, you are always welcome here,” Gabriel responded with automatic courtesy.

  His statement had always been true in the past—at least as far as Ian was concerned. (Emily’s presence tended to make any gathering rather tame.) However, he realized as he spoke the words that the open invitation was now a polite fiction. The truth was, the presence of his guests added an unwelcome complication to his life. It would be far easier to see Thea if he was alone at the Priory. He would not have to worry about keeping his friends entertained; he would not have to spend time here playing cards or chatting when he could be down at the vicarage talking to Thea. Right now, for instance, he could not simply ride over to call on Thea as he wanted to do. He was expected to celebrate with his guests, and if he managed to see Thea, he would have to maneuver it so that it fit in with the celebration.

  He was far too well-bred to reveal such thoughts, so he uttered the smooth social fiction, then turned to Myles to address his friend’s suggestion to move Matthew to the Priory. “Of course, I will bring Matthew to live with me at some point, but I think for the present it is better if he remains with Miss Bainbridge. He is familiar with her and happy there. And there is really no reason to move him just yet. I have set up a guard at the vicarage to make sure nothing happens.”

  Gabriel did not add what was uppermost in his thoughts, which was that he would not think of distressing Thea by taking Matthew away from her. Besides, if the baby resided here, Gabriel would no longer have a handy excuse for calling at the vicarage.

  “It would not be fair to the baby, in any case, to keep him here, as I will be gone much of the time. I want to get my hands on the man who abducted the baby. I can’t help but think that he might lead me to whoever left Matthew at the church. I must know whether it was Jocelyn. And if it was not my sister, perhaps whoever did leave him has some knowledge of her.”

  “But surely that person has already left the village,” Emily pointed out.

  “Unfortunately, I imagine that you are right. But I have to keep trying, nevertheless. I cannot ignore any possibility that it will lead me to Jocelyn.”

  “No, of course,” Emily agreed, nodding, though Gabriel could tell from the look of pity in her eyes that she suspected he was doomed to disappointment. “You must do whatever you can.”

  Everyone at the table fell silent for a time after that. Unsurprisingly, it was Myles who started a new conversation.

  “What Christmas activities do you have planned for us, Gabriel?” he asked, grinning. “Charades, perhaps? Games?”

  “You clearly spend too much time with your sisters’ children,” Ian told him dampeningly.

  “Well …” Gabriel cast a glance around the table. “I understand there is morris dancing in the village.”

  “Morris dancing?” Emily asked, her nose wrinkling. “Truly? You want to watch men dance with sticks?”

  Myles laughed and slapped a hand to the table. “Sounds like just the thing.”

  “Only if we have a glass of brandy before we go,” Alan said.

  “Or perhaps two,” Ian added.

  It took some time to get everyone clad for the outdoors and ready to go, especially given the round of brandy before they left. But finally they got into Emily’s elegant carriage—the only vehicle in the stables large enough to house them all—and started out. Myles began singing Christmas carols as they rode, and Alan had consumed enough brandy by then to join him. Even Emily unbent enough to sing along with everyone else.

  The village had an empty look when they arrived, but they followed the stragglers down the road toward the vicarage, and soon the crowd and the dancers came into view. The carriage stopped short of the crowd, and they disembarked. Gabriel was the last to emerge, and he paused before he stepped down, casting a quick glance over the crowd.

  He spotted Thea immediately. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, and she wore no hat, so the sun gleamed on her thick hair, picking out the red highlights. Curls clustered around her face, and more curls fell from the crown of her head. She turned to look at the carriage, and her eyes met Gabriel’s across the distance. Something warm and eager swelled in his chest, and Gabriel grinned. He stepped down from the carriage, and as he did so, his gaze fell on the man standing behind Thea.

  Rawdon. Jealousy stabbed through him, as swift and sharp as a knife. Scowling, Gabriel strode toward them.

  Fifteen

  As Gabriel walked toward Thea, Rawdon stepped up beside her, and the intimation of protection in the other man’s stance infuriated Gabriel.

  “What the devil are you doing here?” Gabriel stopped in front of Rawdon, his hands doubling into fists at his sides.

  Rawdon raised his brows in his coolly annoying way. “Watching the village festivities. Much like you, I imagine.”

  “I invited Lord Rawdon to join us for Christmas,” Thea put in.

  “You invited him? When you know that I don’t—” Gabriel stopped abruptly, realizing that his words were exactly the wrong tack to take with Thea.

  “What I know,” Thea began, crossing her arms and settling her level gaze on Gabriel, “is that Lord Rawdon went out into a snowy night to search for Matthew. I also know that Christmas is a time of peace and goodwill. I think it would be advisable if you remembered that, as well.”

  A number of furious retorts crowded Gabriel’s mind, most of them about how he did not want Alec Stafford, Lord Rawdon, anywhere near Thea, but Gabriel had the good sense to keep the remarks to himself. Swallowing his anger, he unclenched his fists and said, “Of course.” He smiled at Thea, but the glance he turned on Rawdon was far less mild.

  Rawdon gave him a look of faint amusement, then turned toward the others in Gabriel’s party, who had since caught up with him. “Lady Wofford.” He sketched a bow. “Gentlemen.”

  “I would have thought morris dancing was a bit too common an entertainment for you, Lord Rawdon,” Gabriel commented.

  “Ah, but that shows how little you know me, doesn’t it?”

  Emily watched the dancers weave in and out in an intricate pattern, knocking their cudgels together, their feet all the while tapping out the jiglike steps. “How … quaint.” She gave Myles an amused smile. “Not exactly the Paris Opera Ballet, is it?”

  “No, but somehow here in the country, we manage to make do with our trifling diversions.” Thea gave the other woman a sharp, short smile.

  Myles glanced from Thea’s stony face to Emily’s startled one and smothered a grin. Damaris moved in, saying in a pleasant tone, “The steps are handed down from generation to generation. When we look at them, I believe we are glimpsing an England from centuries past.”

  “Indeed, Mrs. Howard?” Myles was happy to play along with Damaris’s peacekeeping lecture. “Do tell us more.”

  Gabriel turned to Rawdon. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Indeed.” Rawdon eyed him thoughtfully for a moment, then moved closer to the house, stopping beyond the hearing range of the onlookers.

  Gabriel followed him. As he moved, he cast a quick glance around the crowd until he caught sight of Matthew in Lolly’s arms, standing with Gabriel’s servant on one side of her and the indomitable Mrs. Brewster on the other. He relaxed a little.

  “No one has approached him,” Rawdon said unexpectedly. “I have kept an eye on the nursemaid and his guard.”

  Gabriel glanced at him, faintly surprised. “Thank you.”

  Rawdon’s only reply was a shrug. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

  “Yes. I have been thinking about your arrival at the Priory the other day. Why did you come?”

&
nbsp; If possible, the other man’s face became even more remote. “Why does that matter?”

  “It simply does. I am not trying to attack you. I just want to know why you chose to visit the Priory.”

  Rawdon’s jaw set, and for a moment Gabriel was sure Rawdon was going to refuse to answer him, but then with a bitter twist of his lips, Rawdon said, “Because, fool that I am, I wanted to see Jocelyn. I wanted to hear it from her own lips.”

  “Hear what?”

  “The truth.”

  Gabriel frowned, but decided not to pursue that avenue of conversation for the moment, instead going back to his original concern. “But Jocelyn was not here. Why did you think she would be?”

  “Because she told me she was going to see you. I went to London first, but they said at your club you had come here.”

  “You talked to her?” Gabriel stiffened, staring at Rawdon.

  “No, she wrote me.”

  “Jocelyn had been corresponding with you?” The world seemed to tilt around Gabriel.

  “No, of course not. I haven’t heard from her since she left last year. But a few days ago, I received a letter from her.”

  “Why? Why would she write to you?”

  “Because, unlike you, Jocelyn does not hate me,” Rawdon retorted acidly. “She wrote to ask my forgiveness, if you must know, and she said that she was traveling to see you.”

  Gabriel felt as if his former friend had punched him in the heart. “Did you know about the baby?”

  “Not until I saw him.”

  “Then where is Jocelyn?” Gabriel flung his arms out to the side. “Why is she not here?”

  “I have no idea. When I got here, I thought you must be hiding her from me. I stayed, hoping I would be able to catch her somewhere in the village alone. But then when the baby was stolen from Miss Bainbridge’s house, well, it was clear that Jocelyn was not here.”