The de Wolfe of Wharf Street

by Carter, Elizabeth Ellen

“The secret is all in how you handle it,” Michael announced to the table, drawing her attention from a very wicked look Gabriel sent her way. “You don’t hold it by the handle, you pinch it at the blade… Like—”

  Raphael gripped his brother’s wrist before Michael could lift it more than a couple of inches above the table.

  “Not with Mistress Makepeace’s best cutlery, Brother,” Raphael muttered.

  The knife went down and Michael’s face reddened once again.

  Cassie steered the conversation onto another tangent, church business, to which Gabriel and his brothers had nothing to contribute. She watched the three men look at one another silently, each asking whether now was the time to excuse themselves, no doubt.

  The arrival of the housemaid provided another welcome distraction as the conversation ebbed. She approached Uriah and whispered something to him.

  “It seems that we are not the only ones to have a claim on your time, Your Grace,” he said. “Master Beaple has sent a coach for you.”

  Bishop Hall stood and the table rose with him. The man said his farewells to everyone, including wishing Cassie well with the school. He approached the Hardacre brothers, but Mathilda pulled her aside before she could overhear.

  “Cassie, could I persuade you to make the suggestion that Edgar and our guests would care to escort you for a walk this afternoon,” she said in a low voice. “With all the work for the Penrose Almshouses, Uriah and I have not spent much time alone and…”

  The rest of the sentence trailed off, the flush of heat on Mathilda’s face spoke for her. She and Uriah wanted children so much but so far had not been successful in conceiving.

  Cassie patted her on the arm. “I shall return at nightfall.”

  Mathilda placed a hand over hers and squeezed it.

  “You’re a lamb.”

  Gabriel didn’t know the protocol of it, so he stayed in the room while two priests left with the bishop. Cassie was now in earnest conversation with her cousin’s wife.

  “I think now would be a good time to take our leave,” whispered Raphael. “We don’t belong here.”

  Gabriel nodded his agreement.

  He coughed to draw attention to himself. His eyes fell on Cassie before he turned his attention to Mathilda Makepeace.

  “And we should take our leave of you also, Mistress. On behalf of me and my brothers, I would like to thank you for your hospitality.”

  Mathilda stepped forward and gifted them all with a smile. “Indeed, you honored us with your fine performance for the day, and we should be pleased to have you dine with us again.”

  Reverend Makepeace returned to the parlor.

  “Where is Edgar, my dear?” Mathilda asked her husband.

  “Just as the bishop left, Mrs. Crowthorne came. Her husband is complaining about feeling poorly again. He wishes to make his will and testament, and needs Edgar to witness.”

  “Didn’t he do that last month?” Cassie asked.

  Uriah nodded his head and added a grin. “And the month before that, and one before that, too. The smallest affront sets him off when his liver is inflamed. He has disinherited each of his sons twice over before reinstating them. I think he does it just to see his children grovel.”

  Cassie looked genuinely disappointed. “Oh, dear. I was hoping Edgar would accompany me for a walk this afternoon. It’s too fine an afternoon to spend it all indoors.”

  When she turned her attention to Gabriel, her green eyes twinkled with a small amount of mischief.

  “Perhaps I could persuade the Hardacres to walk with me. I should like to learn knife throwing. Master Gabriel said I could even do it blindfolded.”

  For the first time in a very long time, Gabriel was caught flatfooted. He had teased her as much as he dared at the dining table and he could tell by her blushes that she recognized the undercurrent that always seemed to draw the both of them together.

  It was a game of a sorts, an acknowledgement of attraction that ran between men and women. Most of the time, it led to naught but a pleasant passing of time in company. Sometimes, it resulted in a more physical diversion.

  And yet he wondered whether Miss Perspicacity Glenwood knew the sport she was playing.

  And more to the point, did he?

  Chapter Nine

  Gabriel copied the alphabet from the paper before him onto the slate.

  What had started as a half-considered ruse to spend more time in the company of the fetching Mistress Glenwood was now something more.

  The strokes and the lines that formed the letters now made sense to him as he silently said the name of each letter. Then he turned the page to look at the next exercise.

  He laughed.

  Cassie looked up from her papers at her desk.

  “What has amused you so?”

  Gabriel glanced back down at the page featuring a set of six rhyming couplets.

  “The last words of each… they rhyme,” he said.

  Once again, he mouthed them silently.

  This was making sense to him! He could actually read!

  At his silence, Cassie approached and stood at his shoulder.

  “Would you read them to me?” she asked gently.

  Anticipation mixed with fear – of the type he experienced when trying a difficult trick for the first time. It was one thing to actually work it out in one’s head, another thing entirely to execute it in public.

  Courage man, he told himself. She had not scoffed at him when he confessed that he could not read; she would not mock him now when he attempted the feat out loud.

  He began:

  In Adam’s Fall

  We sinned all.

  Thy Life to mend,

  This Book attend.

  The Cat doth play,

  And after flay.

  A Dog will bite

  A Thief at Night

  An Eagle flight

  Is out of fight

  The idle Fool

  Is whipt at School

  He breathed in lavender and his entire body became aware of Cassie’s presence behind him. He’d done all right so far to behave like a gentleman while in her schoolroom. But still, what kind of man would he be if he did not appreciate the sway of her hips as she walked or the way the light played across her bosom?

  There was much to like about Mistress Perspicacity Glenwood that went far beyond admiring her for her mind.

  She placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder and Gabriel found his resolve tested. Cassie leaned forward until her cheek was beside his. She turned the page and his eye fell on another couplet.

  My Book and Heart

  Shall never part.

  He turned his face to look at hers in profile. He wanted to kiss her. Hell, he wanted much more than that, but a kiss would do for a start.

  Gabriel bridged the gap and kissed her cheek; it was as soft as he imagined it would be, the scent of lavender stronger.

  Cassie faced him, her eyes wide with surprise. So too were her lips and he wanted to claim that mouth with an urgency that was nearly impossible to rein in.

  “Why did you do that?” she whispered.

  “To say thank you.”

  He feared that to say anything more would cause her to run from him. Part of him wished she would, so he could put her out of his mind, but the longer she stayed the more he wanted the kiss.

  Gabriel decided to press his luck, placing a hand on her back ostensibly to steady himself as he rose but, in truth he needed no such aid.

  Would she denounce his familiarity?

  Her green eyes were still wide, watching him carefully, like the mouse in the wood block print of the reading primer. He was the cat.

  The Cat doth play.

  He could read her thoughts again in those eyes. She wanted him to kiss her, but she didn’t want him to kiss her. Except she did want him to kiss her, but she shouldn’t want him to kiss her.

  Gabriel made the decision for her. His mouth descended to hers, pressing lips gently, almost cha
stely, but with a hint of carnal promise.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

  “How long?” Cassie licked her lips which made him want to do it again.

  “From the moment I saw you at the Wharf Street Tavern.”

  Her eyes revealed everything to him and Gabriel wanted more than that, more than he should ought to want from a woman like her.

  There – she did it again, lowering her lashes so he couldn’t see those eyes that reminded him of the green fields about the town.

  “Gabriel, you’re my pupil…”

  “And you’re a fine teacher.”

  He chanced himself further and slipped his arm fully around her waist and pulled her to him.

  He stole another kiss before she could raise any further objections. She could reject him afterwards.

  Only she didn’t.

  Cassie could accept the first kiss as an aberration, the second was quite possibly an accident but there was no mistaking the intent of the third – full on the lips, his darting tongue seeking entry.

  She was carried along by the tide of it, this handsome man whom she liked, not for his body, fine though it was, but also for his mind.

  Many a man would not humble himself to learn from a book written for children, and yet he did, and not just to impress her – though flattering the thought may be. He seemed to enjoy the learning and once he had been shown the letters and the sounds they made together, he was a quick study.

  How could she not be a little in love with a man like that? He worked hard at everything he did and seemed to excel, and yet who was he? An acrobat, a juggler, a part time carpenter, a man who would spend much of the year away from home.

  She broke off the kiss.

  There could be no more of this, for either of their sakes. Well, mostly hers.

  She had given herself recklessly once before, carried away by the tide of physical pleasure a man’s body could give her and she had paid the price. She was cut deep by betrayal. Hugh Bestwick may have pledged his heart, but his body was already pledged to another.

  Cassie offered Gabriel an uncertain smile.

  “We cannot do this,” she whispered.

  “What is it that you think we cannot do?” he asked, his voice as serious as hers, yet he showed no intention of releasing her from his embrace.

  “We cannot begin an affair that will wither on the vine.”

  “There are some plants which have their season and die,” he answered, touching a finger to her chin forcing her to raise her eyes to him. “And some which are evergreen.”

  Before she could mount a counter-argument, Gabriel kissed her once more, a searing kiss that swamped her defenses. There was no denying her desire for him. Cassie felt Gabriel’s hands roam around her waist and up her back pressing her body to his.

  It was utter abandon. In this moment she would follow wherever he led, if it resulted in more of the pleasure that scorched her outside and in.

  And that was the problem. The more time she spent in his company, the more of her heart he would take with him when he left.

  Cassie started to push herself away. Gabriel dropped his arms to the side. She took one step back away from him.

  “If you do that again, I shall have to stop teaching you.” Where Cassie found the firmness in her voice she could not know, but it had the desired effect.

  The satisfied expression he wore following their kiss vanished.

  “Then we shall let it be that and no more. A kiss.” There was an edge to his voice that made him seem more dangerous than she had supposed. “And that is all.”

  Gabriel picked up his hat from the bench and headed to the door.

  He will keep walking and never return.

  Panic rose in Cassie’s breast and she hated herself for it. If a time in close company and a kiss made her act like a foolish chit, then how much worse would it be when Gabriel left for good?

  “Please, wait.”

  He paused at the door, his back still to her. “As the lady wishes.”

  Cassie found herself without words. After a moment of silence, he turned to face her.

  She searched his face to see whether he had taken offense. She did not know him well enough to know, although he did not look angry with her, just resigned. Cassie supposed she ought to take her blessings where she found them.

  Something like a rueful half-smile crossed his face.

  “I’ll return tomorrow. I found I’ve developed a taste for learning.”

  Chapter Ten

  June 1627

  Gabriel brought his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle. Michael was in a fit of the sulks after Raphael rounded on him for failing to hold his weight during a lift.

  Raphael had a point. He had fallen badly and it was only by a piece of good luck that he earned nothing more than a few bruises.

  “We try it again from the beginning,” Gabriel instructed. “If you can’t make the hold, then suggest another one. We can’t audition for Zagorsky with only half a performance.”

  Raphael rolled his eyes, but he chose to ignore it. Michael was the one who was on the edge of losing his temper and quitting the whole thing.

  “It’s impossible. It can’t be done,” he said. “You do it, if you think it’s so easy.”

  “Don’t rush it. This is all about balance and counterbalance, you know this. Here, watch.”

  Gabriel slapped Raphael on his bare shoulder. Today, in the heat, none of the brothers wore shirts, only hose and even they had been modified into a stirrup foot.

  He and Raphael stood facing each other but offset, and about a hand span apart. Each placed a hand on the other’s hip closest to them.

  In unison, they raised their other hand overhead, then reaching over to clasp it. Gabriel jumped and executed a cartwheel, settling shoulder to shoulder onto Raphael’s back. He leaned forward only enough to support Gabriel across his neck.

  Both men let go of the other’s hands and extended both arms parallel to the ground, forming a cross-like appearance and holding it.

  Gabriel drew his knees to his chest as Raphael lowered to one knee and then the other.

  This was where it had started to fall apart for Michael and Raphael, Gabriel realized. Michael needed to extend his arms back more to keep his weight over Raphael’s shoulders.

  Once instability set in, it was inevitable the trick would falter.

  “Watch now,” Gabriel bit the words out, putting his full concentration into making moment-by-moment corrections whenever he found himself losing balance.

  Gabriel pressed the back of his head into the small of Raphael’s back. He held his brother’s waist and waited for Raphael to lock arms and raise himself until his legs were parallel with the ground. Still back-to-back, Gabriel straightened his legs until both men were one long line, supported by the strength of Raphael’s arms and shoulders and counter-balanced by Gabriel who kept his own body rigid.

  With a loud “Hoy!” Raphael raised his legs above the parallel. Gabriel lowered his in an appearance of a seesaw motion and used the strength of his abdominal muscles to pull himself. Now he was supporting his brother’s weight.

  Raphael hooked his legs over Gabriel’s shoulders and hauled himself up to a seated position.

  Michael regarded the two of them thoughtfully.

  “Are you ready to give it another try?”

  Michael nodded once. “This time I want to see Raphael end it with a one-handed lay out from my shoulder.”

  “Like this?” he asked smugly.

  Gabriel felt the viselike grip of Raphael’s hand on his head as he lifted himself up. He lowered his center of gravity to give him more stability and waited for Raphael to dismount.

  Michael acknowledged the feat with a slow clap.

  The scrape of a bench from the back of the room drew all of their attentions. At first, Gabriel didn’t recognize the figure dressed in black before he stepped into the light cast by the high transom windows.
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  It was Uriah Makepeace.

  “You do us an unexpected honor, sir,” said Gabriel, glancing down at his body covered in sweat. “Do forgive us not being properly dressed, we were rehearsing a new routine.”

  “The apology is all mine,” Uriah answered. “I am the one who has called unannounced. I hope you might be able to spare a moment of your time.”

  The priest’s normally affable voice was serious.

  Raphael handed Gabriel his shirt. “Go,” he said. “Michael and I will rehearse our parts until you return.”

  The morning was fresh and hinted at a day that would be warm and pleasant. Gabriel took his hat and set it low on his brow. Gabriel dressed and the two men left the warehouse and walked in silence, side by side, until they reached the river path. It did not go unnoticed by Gabriel that the cleric had waited until they found themselves in a place where they would not be overheard.

  Whatever the man’s mission, Gabriel would rather that he come directly to the point.

  “I presume you did not come to pay a social call,” he said, “so the only thing I can think that would divert you from your work is a question about your cousin.”

  “It is,” said Reverend Makepeace, before pausing, apparently considering his next words carefully. “My wife has told me that Cassie has confessed to having grown fond of you over the past few weeks, and I’ve seen it for myself—”

  “—and you were wondering what my intentions toward her were?”

  “Indeed. I know Cassie has her majority and she can make any decision she wishes but, as her kin, I cannot but help feel responsible for her welfare.”

  “You see me as a detriment to it?”

  “Not at all. Not if you’ve given consideration to what future lay before you both. Do you intend to marry her?”

  Gabriel nearly swallowed his tongue. Before he could answer, Makepeace continued. “To provide for her? Build a home? And then what of your brothers and their futures?”

  Both men came to a stop under the shade of a spreading willow tree. Gabriel found himself conscious of the feel of the gravel underfoot, the hissing sound of dry shin-high grass on the side of the path, and sun reflecting off the River Taw before them.