Chapter Twenty-Two
Life went on, regardless of the reprieve they would wish for. Gemma could have spent days in Lucas’s arms, secluded in their house, forgetting the entire world, but it was not possible.
Lucas, for one, had business that had to be tended to out of the city, and he could not be put off, especially as he was determined to be back for Miranda Ascott’s musical evening and give Gemma the proper attention and due as befits the man who desperately loved her.
She had rolled her eyes a little, trying to assure him it was no matter if he attended Miranda’s or not, particularly as Miranda had approached Gemma and asked if it would be possible for her husband to not attend her event, as the attention would distract from everyone else. She suspected Miranda meant that it would distract from her desire to impress as hostess, but she could hardly say such things.
Gemma did say, however, that she was not about to prevent her husband from attending anything in Society, particularly when Gemma would be performing, and if Miranda found that disagreeable, she could find another person to play the violin in her stead.
Miranda knew full well that there was no other woman in London at this time who could do as well as Gemma, and she would be foolish to try.
Lucas found that as delightful as Gemma had, and vowed even more fervently to attend, just to give Miranda something to set her nerves askew.
He would only be gone two days, but it felt as though he was leaving for longer as he lingered, kissing her again and again and murmuring his love.
“You’ll never get anywhere if you don’t leave,” Gemma murmured with a laugh.
He chuckled and kissed her again. “Trying to be rid of me, are you?”
She gripped the back of his neck tightly and touched her nose to his. “I am trying to get you to come back to me, you dolt.”
He nuzzled her tenderly, nipped at her chin, then kissed her. “Right, as my lady commands. Two days. Then never again.”
She grinned. “You cannot promise to never leave me again.”
“Yes, I can.”
He would brook no argument, and left without proper resolution of his ridiculous claims.
Gemma had amused herself for several hours with various tasks, unable to keep the silly smile from her face. She knew that there was more to her husband’s past and emotions than one night of confessions. It would take time and considerable patience, but at least he was sharing with her. At least he had told her the truth, and told her of his love and fidelity. She could stand by his side and wait as long as he needed her to, so long as she had that.
Amidst all of that came the realization, with some certain calculations and unusual symptoms, that life would most certainly be changing for them in a few months’ time. If she had known this only yesterday, it might have brought worry and fear, but after the events and confessions of the night before, she was only filled with joy and anticipation, wondering what Lucas would say, how he would look, when she told him there would be a child.
With giddiness in her step, she sent a quick note to Bennett, asking for a meeting in their usual park location. She must let him know the truth about Lucas’s reticence and the joy they had found! How delighted he would be! He had been so concerned for them, and for Lucas especially, that she could not wait to inform him that all was changed.
His response was swift and affirmative, and she rushed out with Hattie as chaperone, per usual, and they arrived first. Gemma tapped her foot impatiently as she waited, wanting to laugh and dance and sing loudly so everyone might know her join and delight. Hattie knew nothing of the situation, but Gemma’s antics amused her, and she repeatedly shook her head, laughing softly.
She supposed servants were not to laugh at their employers, but this was a special circumstance, and she was not about to tell her to stop when she was laughing at herself.
“You, my dear Lady Blackmoor, are making the sun envious with all of your glowing,” crowed the now familiar voice.
She turned, already grinning, and watched Bennett approach, impeccably dressed and looking like the very picture of one might imagine a handsome young man to be. He drew gasps and stares from several ladies, but his eyes were on her, and his smile a bit more of a smirk.
“You may tease all you like, sir, but I will not apologize for my joy,” she said, smiling up at him.
He looped her arm through his and began to stroll, nodding politely at Hattie, who followed them. “Well, tell me so at once, dear woman, so I may join you in your felicity.”
Gemma clamped down on her lip with a silent giggle. “Lucas loves me.”
Bennett gave her a surprised look, smiling. “Does he now? I am glad to hear it. What of his odd behavior? Of his first wife?”
She shook her head. “He was tormented by her, she was not at all what people thought. But you must keep that a secret, Bennett, and it makes no difference now. He loves me and only me! I’m not second to Celia or anyone else!”
A musical laugh erupted from her and she threw her head back, beaming in delight. “We were so worried for nothing. My husband might be a man of mystery and reserve, but still waters run deep. I should have known, I feel so silly for ever thinking otherwise.”
Bennett was silent beside her, and his tread remained steady, but she sensed a change in him and glanced up at his suddenly stoic features.
“Bennett?”
He glanced behind them, then gripped her arm in a vice-like hold. “Keep smiling, my dear. You are about to elope with your lover.”
Gemma reared back in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
Something sharp was suddenly jabbed in her side and she glanced down to see a sterling pistol, no doubt rarely used, tucked against her, completely obscured from anyone else’s view.
“Make any move to escape or give the smallest sign of distress,” he hissed, his voice positively venomous, “and I will shoot you here and now. And wouldn’t that be something for your husband to come home to?”
“H-how do you know my husband is not at home?” she stammered, her mind whirling. “He is at home, he is waiting for me.”
He gave her a sardonic look. “If your reunion was as histrionic as your expression says, there is no possible way he would let you come out and meet me, servant or no. And your servant in question is worthless. She is distracted by ducks at the moment, making this far too easy. I thought I was going to have to strike her or bribe her at least, but this is perfect. She is simply not mindful, and that is so much better.”
The pistol nudged against her more tightly and she clamped down on her lip hard. “What are you doing? Why are you doing this?”
He snorted, somehow still smiling jovially. “I am making your husband’s life hell, as he has made mine. Have you not wondered why he has been so strange since your wedding? That was me. I could not have him be happy, not after what he did to Celia, and what that did to me. I have been seeking revenge for years, and you were the perfect opportunity. To drive him mad and drive his wife away at the same time would be the sweetest vindication. Your insecurities and his fears were too easy to play upon. And now you would ruin months of work with your ridiculous resolution?” He shook his head fiercely. “No, that I cannot allow. We will drive a stake into the coffin of your husband’s happiness in this final blow.”
“And that is?” she asked in a very small voice, her heart quivering within her as her feet mindlessly moved by his command.
He grinned too easily, looking adoring but for the coldness in his eyes. “We are eloping, my dear, and your maid will verify that we were seen rushing off together in a waiting carriage, and she knows of our regular meetings, how familiar we have become… Even your idiot husband has seen our closeness. His envy and suspicion reek on his very person. He doesn’t trust you, how can he? He’s never been able to sustain a woman’s affections, and I… Well, I had the greatest love of the century because of his ineptitude. She is forever lost to me because of him, and you shall now be forever lost to him.”
“He’ll come after me,” Gemma snapped, even as her breath hitched on her words. “He loves me. He will not stand for this.”
Bennett sneered a little and dragged her along. “You think that, Gemma. You go right ahead and think your husband will not wonder if he has been mistaken in you, that he has failed yet another marriage, and that he is not worth the effort of a woman’s affections.”
A whimper rose in the back of her throat and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She couldn’t say that she could refute his claims, for she knew of Lucas’s doubts and fears, his own insecurities. Their love was so new, for all its depth and passion, and it would be too easy to think himself mistaken in her, if he chose.
Did he believe her enough to know the truth? Did he trust her enough to know she would never leave him?
The evidence would be against them, and it would be too believable, given his past.
She had been so cruelly deceived, but he had been shockingly abused. Bennett had been tormenting him somehow over these months, intentionally dividing them for sport and vengeance. He could not know Bennett’s true nature, nor his past, any more than she had, or he would never have permitted her to meet him. They had both failed to see the danger before them.
Would he see it now?
“I told you to smile, woman,” he growled, somehow still looking handsome. “Don’t make me wound you.”
“I don’t care,” she shot back, struggling as much as she dared and preparing a quite startling volume of scream.
“You will very much care when your misbehavior will force me to injure your husband.”
That silenced her forthcoming scream and removed all energy in her limbs. Resistance fled and she looked up at him with wide eyes. “You wouldn’t…”
He raised a brow. “After all this, you think I make idle threats? I would love nothing more than to run your husband through repeatedly. It has been hell to not take advantage of fencing with him all these years.”
The venom in his voice left no question, and Gemma let herself go with him willingly, fear for her husband and their newfound happiness reigning supreme.
What would happen to her?
And more importantly, what would happen to Lucas when it did?
Early the following morning, Lucas arrived back to his home, exhausted from riding hard and working a back-breaking amount of hours the day before, but he was determined to return to Gemma’s side as soon as possible, and his drive had been inhuman. Yet now he was home, and relieved to be so.
He tugged at his cravat and coat as he made his way up to the bedchamber, smiling to himself as he imagined the delight of waking her, knowing it would take an age of time, but more than willing to do so, and quite creatively. The distance between them had been too much, and he was determined to make up for lost time.
And when he had regained some sense of himself, he would tell her of Gent’s discovery of Celia. The information had come to him shortly before his departure back to London, and it changed much for him.
Celia had taken a lover, but more than that, she had sustained one for quite some time. Her heart had been apparently decided to behave as such, and she considered herself to be in love. Her fleeing in the carriage the night she died had been an attempt to elope with her lover and leave Lucas for good.
It explained her increased resentment of him, the coldness that had been without reason, the sudden cruel streak that had been harsh even for her… Celia had been in love and her marriage had gotten in the way of that.
For some reason, that seemed to satisfy him. He felt no relief in her finding love, no pity for the state in which she had found herself, no guilt for the way things had turned out. He only felt tension ebb away now that understanding had been found.
It certainly shed some light on matters, and there was a sense of relief there. Perhaps this might help them to figure out details of the notes, which he would certainly tell Gemma about now. Gent would help, he had already gone beyond what Lucas had thought possible. And with someone else to worry about the details, Lucas could focus on rebuilding his life with Gemma.
He looked forward to it.
He opened the door to her bedchamber quietly, and frowned at the empty bed. Not only empty, but untouched.
No one had slept in here last night.
He moved over to his bedchamber, wondering if she might have felt sentimental enough to spend the night in his dark and rather unaccommodating chambers, but that, too, was empty.
Panic, that rare and unwelcome companion, swirled within the pit of his stomach and he checked each of the bedrooms, family and guest, even the ones that had not been completely refurbished yet. No sign of Gemma anywhere at all.
He began tearing through the house, bellowing her name at the top of his lungs.
There was no response.
Servants began emerging from various quarters of the house, and each was interrogated on the spot. No one had seen Gemma since yesterday, and no one could quite seem to meet his eye. No answers, no information, no help at all.
He nearly fired them all right then and there.
At last, Hattie came forward, and he could tell from her expression that she knew something.
“Where is Lady Blackmoor?” he demanded without any sort of preamble.
She immediately began wringing her hands together. “Where, I do not know, sir…”
He folded his arms tightly, grinding his teeth. “Well, what do you know?”
She shifted anxiously. “We went to the park yesterday, and met up with Mr. Stanford, as we often do.”
Something in Lucas started to crack and it was all he could do to keep his composure. Impossibly, his arms seemed to tighten further against himself.
“I…” Hattie flinched and looked away.
“You what?” Lucas asked, his voice deadly calm.
The maid clamped her lips together on a soft cry. “I became distracted and was not minding them, I saw them both getting into a carriage some distance from me, and at great speed. I tried to reach them, but they were off before I could…”
“They ran off,” he said flatly.
She nodded once, swallowing. “I know how fond she was of him, my lord, but I never… I would not have…”
“That is all, Hattie.”
She hiccupped and rushed from the room.
Lucas sank against his desk, his sense of loss complete and absolute.
Gemma was gone.
It was only an hour or so in his study, reflecting and wallowing, before Lucas realized he was being a fool and the worst sort of coward.
Gemma was not Celia.
He was not going to give her up so easily, and he doubted very much that things were as simple as Hattie seemed to think.
For one, Gemma was not a flighty or impulsive person. She was as steadfast and sure as any creature on earth. She would never have run away with another man, it was not in her nature.
For another, she loved him. She’d told him, and he’d told her, but he had also seen it. Felt it. And Gemma could not hide anything, could not be anything but what she was.
She just was.
He was not the same man he was before, and Gemma’s hold on him was far greater and more enduring than anything Celia’s could ever have been.
For all his doubts, he could not deny what he knew in his heart, and that was a certainty of Gemma’s character and fidelity. More than that, he would choose to trust her, in her word, in the feelings she had so sweetly declared to him. His life had been one of darkness and deception, but he trusted that her light could give him faith and hope for the future. He could cling to her and find his way. He would let go of what kept him in the shadows and step more fully into the haven she gave him.
He might not understand what drew her to him, but he knew what ties held his heart to her, and those refused to stand idly by and let anyone or anything prevent his being with her.
He would have no idea where they might have gone, but a quick visit to Stanford’s house would surely enlighten him. The man was too much of an idiot to think of proper ways to cover his tracks. Yet he was an idiot who had apparently run off with another man’s wife, which seemed to show a streak of deviousness, or stupidity, that he’d never thought possible.
He rose from his desk and moved to the door when it opened and his young footman James appeared. “Letter for you, sir.”
Lucas shook his head, shrugging into his coat. “No time.”
James stepped directly into his path and held it out more firmly. “Sir. A letter for you.”
Lucas glanced into the lad’s face and saw the set of his jaw.
He snatched the letter and opened it quickly, scanning the lines.
Source witnessed Gemma being forced into a carriage at gunpoint by a man yesterday. Carriage followed as far as Richmond, then lost. Scouring for details. If you have need, a lad named Jem has been posted at your house and on your person. Whistle and he will appear.
Lucas swallowed a lump and nodded, shoving the note into his pocket. “Thank you, James. Tell Adams to have a horse saddled for me.”
James bowed and did so, no doubt sensing the urgency in his tone.
Minutes later, Lucas was galloping madly away from his home, heading for Stanford’s town residence in a very fashionable part of London. People stared at him in stunned disapproval, but he could not bring himself to care.
He was shown into the house at once, and frowned when the aged butler said he would let the master know he was here.
“Your master is at home?” he asked, his mind turning over in bewilderment.
The butler did not respond as he shuffled out of sight, but only moments later, Stanford himself appeared, seemingly surprised to see him and looking far too pristine. “Blackmoor, you look quite done for. What is it?”
“I…” He shook his head, an unsettling confusion pervading his senses. “Gemma is gone. Taken, apparently.”
Stanford gaped and waved him over, leading him to a near study. “Taken? My dear fellow, how dreadful! What can I do? I am at your service, of course.”
The concern and sympathy in his tone turned him more around. “I don’t know,” he admitted, running his hands through his hair and pacing the unfamiliar room. “I don’t know what to think or what to believe. I’ve already heard different stories, different events… She wouldn’t leave me of her own accord, I know this.”
“Of course not,” Stanford said as he sank into a chair, his voice dripping with consolation. “What a horrid mess. And the two of you were just beginning to mend things.”
Lucas looked at him swiftly. “How do you know that?”
Stanford looked surprised. “No doubt you heard that we met yesterday. I hope you do not mind, she was so keen to tell me about the promising start, to assure me that your marriage had hope.”
“How was she?” he asked, painfully aware of the crack in his tone.
“Delightfully happy, and a little preoccupied.” Stanford tilted his head with a sad smile. “I told her to go home to you, my dear chap, and not waste her time thinking of me. You may wish to rethink her maid, though, the poor thing was so distracted by the park, I do not think she minded us or anything but her own imaginations. Someone could easily have carried off dear Gemma without her noticing.”
“Don’t say that,” Lucas snapped, clenching his fists.
“Of course, you are distressed.” Stanford nodded sagely. “It is understandable.”
Lucas pressed his fists to his head, exhaling roughly.
“And after all the trouble with your first wife. Running away with a lover, crashing in the very carriage she escaped in, the scandal was horrendous. When word breaks of Gemma racing off in a carriage, it will only come back on you once more, a hundredfold worse.”
Lucas stilled and slowly lowered his arms, glaring at the simpering, pitiful man sitting before him. “How do you know that Celia was meeting a lover?”
Stanford’s eyes widened at the dangerous tone. “That… is common knowledge.”
Slowly, the very motion paining him, Lucas shook his head. “No, it isn’t. No one knew that. I didn’t even know that until recently. The details of her death were never released. The only one who could possibly know that is…”
He let the unspoken hang in the air and saw the change in the young man at once. Where once there had been a stupid, inane fool there was now a cold and calculating man whose eyes were filled with hatred.
“You,” Lucas breathed, going suddenly cold. “You were Celia’s lover.”
“I was so much more than that,” came the sneering reply.
The wheels began to turn in Lucas’s mind. “You have been sending me the threats.”
“Prove that.”
“You restarted the rumors of my family.”
“What rumors? From what I heard, that was all true.”
“You invited Lattimer to the Gerrards.”
“I was not invited there myself, how could I do that?”
The coldness within Lucas suddenly turned colder still. “You have Gemma.”
A derisive look and impatient sound met his accusation. “Do I look like I have your stupid trollop of a wife?”
Lucas slammed his hands on the desk. “Tell me where she is!”
Stanford scoffed and propped his legs up on the wooden surface. “That would be a fair parlor trick, knowing the location of one missing viscountess. Why in the world would I know? She probably did run away from you, considering your complete and utter worthlessness. Celia knew that all too well. Shall I tell you how many nights we lay awake, entangled with each other, while she regaled me with your many failings? How you ruined her life? How you were incapable of sustaining any relationship of value, let alone one of romance? She found you lacking in every possible respect. I, on the other hand, fulfilled her. In every way.” He smiled, his mouth curving on one side. “And given less than half a chance, I could do exactly the same with your current wife, Blackmoor. Provided you have not lost her forever.”
Lucas snarled and rounded the desk in an instant, shoving Stanford’s legs down and seizing him by the jacket and the throat. He whirled and slammed him against the thick window, squeezing and pressing with such force his hands ached.
“Where is my wife?” he roared into the rapidly paling face.
Fear flashed across Stanford’s features and he scrambled to try to release himself. “Not here,” he gasped. “Not here!”
“Where?” he bellowed, squeezing and slamming him harder against the glass.
“Feltham!” came the weak and almost keening response. “Feltham, for God’s sake! Abandoned warehouse on the edge of the village!”
“Did you hurt her?” Lucas asked, leaning close and lowering his voice dangerously.
Frantically, Stanford shook his head. “No!”
Lucas exhaled slowly, tempted beyond reason to squeeze the remaining life out of this rat who had caused him so much grief. But he was no murderer, despite the opinions of Society and the temptation before him. “Never come near me or my wife again,” he hissed. “Ever. One word about either of us, any of this, or Celia, and I will end you.”
He tightened his grip perceptively and Stanford nodded with shaking, panicking motions.
Lucas dropped him as he whirled away, not caring what happened or in what state he left him.
He raced out of the house, whistled once, and grunted in satisfaction when a lad appeared from the shadows.
“Jem?” he asked as he mounted his horse.
The lad nodded firmly, a perfect soldier.
Lucas met his eyes seriously, despite his racing heart. “I need him. The road to Richmond. I’ll not wait.”
“Aye, sir,” Jem replied, dashing off at once, a shrill whistle lighting the morning air.
Lucas turned his horse towards the road and galloped away, heart in his throat.
An abandoned warehouse in Feltham. Anything could happen there. She could be in any state, despite Stanford’s words. She would be alone, probably restrained, and certainly frightened.
Did she know he would come for her? Did she believe he would see the truth in the matter? Did she know that he trusted her, completely and without reservation?
Was she even alive?
He forced his fears and worries back and focused on the hard ride before him.
He was fetching his wife and bringing her home, no matter what happened.
Then neither of them would ever be alone again.