Mary Blayney (25 page)

T
HEY MIGHT HAVE SLEPT
a bit, or at least he did. When he woke, she was starting at the ceiling.

“This is the end, Gabriel, not a beginning.”

“Not now, Lynette. There is no need to make a decision this moment. We can—”

“There is nothing good in me.” She cut him off with an angry gesture and raised her voice. “Nothing, do you hear?”

She stood up and pulled on her shift. He handed her the greatcoat and began to pull on his breeches.

“Yes, I hear, my dear, but you are wrong.”

“No, I am not. Let me tell you how wrong you are, you fool.”

She waited a moment until he had his shirt over his head and was buttoning it.

“Charles Strauss seduced me before I was twenty. He showed me the pleasure of sex until I wanted it more than I wanted my art, more than I wanted honor.”

“You are not the first woman to be enthralled by a man. Though it is rarely one’s husband.” Exactly why was she angry at him? “I do not mean to make light of your distress, but Lynette, your past does not matter to me.” A different thought occurred to him. “Unless you mean that no other man can equal his skill.” He could not help but smile. “I could happily die trying.”

“You would not make a joke if you understood what it was like.”

“Tell me. We have time, we are alone. I want to understand.”

She stepped back from him. She closed her eyes for a moment. When she began she looked him in the eye with anguish that tore at his heart.

“We went to a masquerade. They were quite popular in Le Havre. He had given me an amazing domino, a silk material that in itself was the most wonderful fabric I had ever felt against my skin. It was as exciting as a man’s touch.”

Ah, thought Gabriel, so Strauss had understood the way she loved the feel of things.

Lynette turned her head. “He suggested that I go to the party naked under my domino. I wore a mask so no one would know me. I was depraved enough that I agreed. We drank champagne on the way to the fete, and when I had had just enough he told me that I could have sex with one particular man, a man he wanted to impress and his beautiful wife was the most valuable gift he could give. He would watch to make sure I was not harmed.”

She swallowed as though trying not to be ill. His own feelings were a mixture of disgust at the man and pity for the girl she had been. “Lynette, you do not have to go through this again.”

“I did it.” Her voice was laced with challenge. “I had sex with the man as Charles suggested. A man who was at least as debauched as he was.”

“That’s enough—”

She cut him off again. “No, it is not. When we went home he was so aroused he wanted to have his turn. I let him, I pretended that it was what I wanted, or else he would have used the sex to punish me.”

She drew a breath and a small moan escaped. His silence was a great act of will.

“Some years before, when we had been married for almost a year, I refused him. I suspected he had been with another woman. I was in a jealous rage. We fought. I mean physically, not just with words.”

He remembered the night in Le Havre when she had been afraid of him and understood why.

“Charles insisted that he loved women he called ‘spirited’ and that I had become too docile. In the end he tied me to the bed, blindfolded me and told me that if I did not pleasure him as he wished, whenever he wished, he would have one of the footmen come and enjoy himself. Then I would wonder which one it was and who he had told.”

That made Gabriel feel sick in heart and body.

“Oh, I learned to do what he wanted, even if I was sick for days afterward. In time I learned to use sex as effectively as he had.”

Gabriel was beyond disgust. Anger took its place. Didn’t she know that Charles Strauss had taken more than her innocence?

She put her hands around his arms above his elbows and shook him. “Do you not see that I am wanton, ruined, a whore of the worst kind?”

He let her keep him prisoner. “What I see is that your husband, who vowed before God to care for you, did exactly the opposite.” He spoke with a quiet fury. “He taught you all there is to know about sex and nothing about love. You deserve so much more than that.”

She pushed him away, only because he allowed it.

“I do not care what you think I deserve, my lord. I will never put myself in that situation again.”

“What you had with him was not marriage. It was slavery, or bondage, and not what marriage should be.”

“I do not want your pity!” If one could scream in a whisper, Lynette did.

“I cannot think of anyone less in need of pity,” he said, surprised that she would even think it. “No pity, Lynette, only patience. It has, until recently, been a virtue I lack, and now I see why I was made to practice it these last years. So I would be ready to wait for you.”

With a frustrated cry, almost a scream, Lynette grabbed her shoes and ran down the path, away from him.

He started after her. Then stopped, accepting the test of patience.

29

W
ORD OF
N
APOLEON’S
abdication swept through the village a few days after the event. Captain Wilton brought the news on a gallop from London. He relayed the story with uncharacteristic excitement. He had stopped in town to discuss some matters with his man of business and left that gentleman’s office to a benign riot at the good news.

The certainty of the war’s end and the perfect spring weather were just the excuse needed for a celebration in the village, one that would include an impromptu fair and food and dancing.

That was why Lynette was standing next to Gabriel at the back of a crowd of people gathered near the church steps. He had not seen her for a week, but who could carry ill will into a celebration that marked the end of more than ten years of war?

No matter her feelings about him, today she was smiling. He had even heard her laugh once. It was the first time since the war began that Gabriel had reason to be grateful to Napoleon for anything.

Could it be that war’s end would mean an end to other experiences best forgotten? His time in prison was fading from his mind. He might even be able to forget it if not for the everyday events that brought it back so forcefully.

Claire was a deadweight, asleep against his shoulder. There was no chance for privacy here, which may well have been the real reason Lynette was willing to have him so near. Or was it because she was playing the role of demure lady? Doing her best to discourage the one or two interested men who had been watching her all afternoon?

He cast about for something innocuous to discuss. “This is quite a crowd, is it not? Do you think there is anyone left at home?” he asked.

She did not answer at first.

“You know, Miss Gilray, if you talk to me then those two might think that the three of us are a family and go away.”

“I imagine no one is home for miles around,” she said. “A few servants left behind to discourage anyone dishonest enough to take advantage of this gathering.”

“Why would they? The pickings are too good here.” Even as he spoke a man took off after a boy who was either his son or a pickpocket.

They were all waiting for Captain Wilton to speak. He was the most senior officer living in the village and someone had to give a speech honoring the occasion. He was chosen, despite his suggestion that a retired colonel do the honors.

“Doesn’t it look as though Robert would rather be facing a fleet of French ships?” Gabriel said.

“I imagine he would.” Lynette kept her eyes on the boys, who were doing various acrobatic maneuvers on the green, conspicuously close to some girls from the local young ladies’ seminary.

She gave Gabriel a quick glance. “What did he say when he came home to find you in residence?”

“He was surprised.”

Before he could say anything else Lynette laughed. He loved that sound and vowed he would hear it again today.

“Yes, well, Madeline is ready to deliver and he is not about to deny her anything.”

He thought about his brother and how aloof he was. “He has been quite civil, in fact very generous.”

“He is a generous man,” she said, as though he were being sarcastic and she hoped to start an argument.

“He never says no,” Gabriel continued, delighted that they had found something else on which they agreed. “He never says no, but explains how this will further his own plans or can be used to his advantage.”

“I’ve decided that it his way of trying to appear selfish when he is anything but,” Lynette said.

“How long have you known him?” he asked, even though he knew it was the sort of question that would annoy her.

“I met him while I was still married, and he terrified me.” She spoke frankly, as though the memory was an amusing one. “He was such a bastion of moral superiority. I tempted him, oh I tried,” she said, with a curve of the lips that reminded him of Charlotte at her most sultry. “He was a naval officer and unattached,” she said as if that was reason enough. “He never, not once to this day, has treated me as anything but a lady.”

The mayor was calling the crowd to order, and Lynette leaned closer to finish. “I hated him almost as much as I hate you.”

She faced the speakers and let him chew on that bit of food for thought. Robert Wilton was at least two minutes into his oration before Gabriel realized the man was speaking.

Not the most eloquent speaker, Gabriel decided, but his uniform added power to his speech and his last two thoughts were worth hearing.

“Those who sacrificed for this victory number many who did not wear uniforms.” He spoke to the crowd, but his eyes rested on Lynette more often than not. “Men of all ages and stations, and even women, were part of this effort to preserve our country and our King. I honor them in the same voice with which I praise the men who served under Wellington and in the memory of Lord Nelson.” There were cheers after each of those names.

Then finally, “The war has ended. Let us not obstruct the peace with ill will and bad feeling. English children and French children will call one another friend. Let it begin here. God save the King!”

There were thunderous cheers of “Huzza!” and applause as the crowd converged on him with their congratulations. Gabriel and Lynette moved away. He, at least, was ready to find the captain’s carriage, fill it with children and return home.

“Perhaps you should let me take Claire,” Lynette said when a woman gave them a look of curiosity and disapproval. “People will be wondering who you are.”

“Tell them the truth,” he said as though it were a novel idea. “I am the boys’ tutor and living with the Wiltons.”

“The truth, but a carefully tailored truth,” she said with approval. “I see you have learned something from Charlotte Parnell.”

“Or Mrs. Charles Strauss,” he suggested.

“I would appreciate it if you would never refer to me by that name,” she said coldly. “Our hold on gentility is precarious at best. We have few servants and do not own a coach. There are no disguises here and my life before was nothing but pretense.”

“I beg to differ, Miss Gilray. Most people live with disguises, just not on the outside, though I must admit the color of that lady’s hair does challenge credulity.”

Lynette turned her laugh into a cough as Gabriel bowed to the lady under discussion. The coquettish smile she sent his way was totally inappropriate, given her age.

“For instance, the smith is not well, but will admit it to no one, including himself. The vicar’s daughter is going mad with boredom. She can hardly wait to escape to a town, even if it is only Bath as companion to her godmother, and the captain would much rather be at home with his wife.”

“You sound like my mother after she has spent the day at the drapers.”

“A smart woman, your mother,” he said. “She has seen how the smith’s hands shake, and that the vicar’s daughter will sit for hours staring off into space, and that my brother Robert is letting those boys run riot through the streets.”

That was the sign from the heavens that it was time to gather the family. Wilton rode with the coachman to supervise the two older boys, who wanted to play tiger and hang on to the straps. That left Lynette with Gabriel in the coach. Alone. Almost. If you did not count a grumpy Claire, and the other children, who were vexed at not being allowed the adventure of riding outside.

The only thing their ride home proved was that they shared the same inclination to swat the boys if they did not stop teasing the girls. It was something, Gabriel decided.

It was a very short ride to the Gilray residence, and Lynette climbed out of the carriage with a chorus of farewells. He said good night once again, reminding himself it was not good-bye.

The last leg of the trip was even shorter. Robert let his boys sit with the coachman while he claimed the seat opposite Gabriel. They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Fine speech, Robert.”

“Thank you.”

“There was a thought in it that struck me as notably valuable.”

“Was there?”

“Are you surprised that I listened?” Gabriel asked. He did not so much as wait for a nod before he continued. “That last part where you encouraged the crowd not to hold a grudge against the French. That their children and ours would be friends.”

“Yes.”

“True, and surprisingly diplomatic for a naval officer. Then I realized that you must have learned diplomacy at an early age.
Compromise
might be a better word.”

Wilton nodded, his eyes narrowed, and Gabriel was sure he had his attention.

“Lynette told me tonight that you knew her when she was married to that animal, Strauss.”

“She told you about Strauss?”

Robert’s surprise was gratifying. “Yes,” Gabriel said and would have loved to leave it at that, a long see-how-you-like-terse-answers moment, but the coach had already turned into the drive and Gabriel knew he did not have much time left.

“She also told me that you are one of the most generous men she knows. That you have never once blamed her for what happened to those children or their parents.”

“Lynette was as much a victim of that filthy bastard as those children trapped in the orphanages.”

“We are agreed on that and so I have told her. Charlotte has her way of making some use of what she learned from him, of turning it to the good. Of expiation for her imagined sins.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“The point is this, Robert.” Gabriel leaned forward. “My brother Lynford and the rest of us are just as innocent of our father’s perfidy. Lyn was not the reason your mother had less than she needed, that she died unnecessarily.”

“You think not?”

“You were Father’s responsibility,” Gabriel went on, relieved that Robert had not shown him his back, “one he denied. It was a disgrace for a man who was always harping on how important honor is.”

Wilton looked at his hands.

“Robert, what you said today applies to families as well as countries. Continuing to label Lynford with the same disgust as you did Father is the only thing that will keep your children and his from being friends.”

There was a long silence. Wilton shifted in his seat, but that was the only comment he made.

“Think on it, brother.” His timing was perfect. The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the house and Gabriel opened the door before the coachman and the boys were off the box.

I
T WAS HARD
to believe it was still several hours until dark. Lynette felt as though she had not slept for days. She envied Claire’s ability to doze off instantly wherever there was a convenient resting place for her head.

It was Lynette’s shoulder now and she was glad the six-year-old was such a little thing. Carrying the sleeping child made it impossible for her to give the boys as much attention as she should, so she was relieved and then surprised when it was the Wiltons’ butler, and not her mother, who came to greet them at the door.

“Miss Gilray,” he explained, “your mother is at the Wiltons’. Mrs. Wilton is in labor and she will be asking the captain to go for the midwife. Mrs. Gilray wants you to come to them. I will watch the children.” He related all this information as he took Claire from Lynette and they made their way into the front hall. He sounded concerned. And relieved to be handing off the responsibility.

A surge of energy displaced her fatigue. Lynette gave him some help and then took the cart he had left at the kitchen gate.

“T
HANK YOU FOR COMING,
dear,” her mother said, meeting her at the front door. She covered her face with her hands as though a brief respite from the late-day sun would help her see better. “The captain is in charge now, but Madeline needs some company and you know how useless men are.”

Lynette nodded, although it had occurred to her that men were never given a chance to be anything but useless during a birth.

“I’ve thought about it, dear heart, and it would be better not to upset the children. You stay with Madeline and I will go home.”

“Mama! I know nothing about a woman’s confinement.”

“And I have had only one experience. I am sorry to say, it was so awful, the thought of watching someone else go through it makes me feel quite ill. No, my dear, it must be you. One thing I do remember is that it will be hours before anything happens.”

Mama would not budge from her decision and ten minutes later was hurrying down the path. As Lynette watched her, she prayed that someone here knew more than she did.

Madeline was already in her nightgown and in bed. Propped high on pillows, she was directing her maid and the others so efficiently that Lynette decided, if the baby was born before the midwife arrived, Madeline would tell them exactly how to proceed. She was, after all, the most experienced among them.

Her pains were about ten minutes apart. “It could be quite a long wait,” Madeline assured Lynette, who began to wonder who was comforting whom.

“It is a relief to have someone near. The staff are wonderful, but they try to do too much, when all I really want is someone to sit with me.”