“Wherein Crecy gets what she wants.”

Crecy’s heart was thudding hard as the door clicked shut, but she wasn’t about to leave. Not yet.

Gabriel spun around, his face so incredulous that she almost laughed, though happily she stopped herself in time. She suspected he would find her laughter neither amusing nor appropriate.

“I told you to go,” he barked, his body rigid with tension, his hands clenched. He held something in one hand, she noticed, and stepped closer, wondering what it was.

“But I don’t want to go yet,” she retorted, giving him a direct look and carrying on as he opened his mouth to rage at her. “You haven’t kissed me yet, Gabriel, and I’m not going until you have.”

That seemed to have spiked his guns, she thought with satisfaction as a new light entered his eyes. This one hotter and fiercer.

“Oh, yes,” he said, his tone mocking now. “I’d forgotten how eager you are to fall from grace. Was that your purpose in asking to see the house? Should we have lingered in the bedrooms? Was it my room you were hoping to see?”

Crecy nodded, amused by the shock in his eyes and refusing to let him fluster her. “I was hoping to see your room, as it happens. You can tell a great deal about people from their bedrooms, I think. Though I wasn’t considering spending any great time there with you,” she carried on with perfect candour. She saw no reason not to be honest with him after all. “I will,” she added, avoiding his eyes now as a blush stained her cheeks. “One day soon, I hope, but not yet, I want to know you better first, but …” She looked up now, meeting his eyes and hoping he could read the sincerity there. “But I would very much like to kiss you again, to feel your arms around me. Last time was rather wonderful.”

He looked quite adorably perplexed now, not sure whether to continue being outraged by her, or to just give in and kiss her. She felt sure he wanted to, no matter how he acted towards her.

She moved closer to him, aware of the tension singing through that powerful body. His expression showed her nothing but confusion, and she didn’t know whether he would storm off in a rage, kiss her with as much anger and violence as in the grotto, or simply ignore her request with a look of contempt. Crecy reached out, placing her hands on his chest beneath his jacket, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through his shirt and waistcoat. How strange, that a man everyone else feared and reviled should make her feel nothing but safe. She lay her head on his chest, hearing the steady thud of his heart. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and she stayed where she was, aware that there was some kind of war being fought in his mind and waiting to see who won.

It seemed a long time later that his hand raised, lifting to touch her hair. His touch was tentative, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was about, and she lifted her head to look up at him. He looked tense, still and uneasy, but his big hand moved from her hair to cup her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. She turned into it, lifting her own hand to cover his and pressing her mouth to his palm. Crecy heard his breathing hitch and smiled, her mouth curving against his skin. Reaching down, she caught his other hand, intending to kiss that too, but his fingers were curled tight around something and her eyes widened with recognition as she saw the wolf’s head.

“I gave you that,” she said, smiling up at him and feeling her heart swell. He had kept it, which meant he had read her letters. It must do. “You kept it.”

“I did,” he admitted, his voice rather gruff.

He allowed her to take it from his hand, watching as she smoothed her fingers over it and then placed it down on the mantelpiece with care. Crecy raised his other hand to her face, nuzzling it and kissing the palm. He moved then, cupping her face between both hands and staring down at her as if she was a puzzle he had no idea how to solve.

“Stop thinking so hard, Gabriel,” she said, her voice quiet and intimate. “Kiss me.”

Her breath caught as his head lowered, his lips just as soft as she remembered. Crecy opened her mouth to him, knowing how this worked, now, and mimicking the slow glide of his tongue over hers. His hands dropped to her waist, and then around her, and she closed her eyes, lost in his kiss.

There had been a part of her that had expected him to kiss her roughly and then push her away, but it wasn’t like that at all. He was tender with her, kissing her as though it really meant something, as though he cared, and Crecy held nothing back. She wanted so badly for him to trust her, had been certain that this loving man was there, beneath the scars of his past. She knew that she would do anything, anything at all, to set him free.

His lips left her mouth and she sighed as they trailed along her jaw, tracing a delicate path down her neck.

“Gabriel,” she whispered, the sound of his name joyful and reverent as she slid her hands into his hair. He paused for a moment, and she saw anxiety in his eyes but she pressed her lips against his once more.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, the words breathed against his mouth.

He was still for a moment, and then she gasped as he reached down, lifting her with ease and moving to the chair by the fire.

He sat down with something of a thud as her weight overbalanced him, and Crecy laughed, delighted to be here, to have come this far, but her laughter was cut short as his mouth captured hers again. She sensed the change in him, sensed he was fighting to keep his desire in check and wondered at it. If he had pushed the issue, she knew she had no resistance to him, she wanted him and she wouldn’t hold back. He knew it, too, she felt sure of it. But she was nervous yet, in truth, and wanted to wait a little longer, wanted to understand him better, to know him more fully. Yet if he was really such a decadent man, so lost to propriety, why did he not seduce her now, when he had her in his arms, why not take everything he could have?

Unless he cared for her.

The idea bloomed in her chest, a warmth that lit up her heart and made her smile even as he kissed her. He pulled back, frowning a little.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked, still sounding rather fierce, which only made her smile all the more.

Crecy reached out and stroked his cheek, realising as she stared into those troubled indigo eyes that she loved him, so much that she felt her heart might burst from trying to contain it. She couldn’t tell him that, though, not yet, sensing that this admission might be enough to spook him and send him running.

“I’m smiling because I’m happy, Gabriel, because you make me happy.”

He looked really perplexed now and she laughed, moving forward to cover his face with kisses.

“Oh, my, you’re adorable when you’re puzzled, my love.” The endearment slipped past her lips despite her intentions and he reached up and grabbed hold of her hands, moving them from his face. He looked deeply troubled, now, and she realised she’d still said too much, moved too fast, but she couldn’t regret it.

“You’ll come to a bad end,” he said, his voice stark now, but Crecy would not allow him to spoil the moment. She just nodded, her expression placid.

“I know,” she said, sounding quite accepting of the idea. “At least others might think it bad, but as long as I get what I want, what I need … then I’m happy to take the consequences.”

He huffed and got up and Crecy slid to the floor, but refused to move away from him, though he’d released her hands.

“You’ll not get back to Longwold before dark if you don’t make haste,” he said, and she felt sure he was trying to sound as if he didn’t give a damn and was failing miserably.

She reached up and slid her hands around his neck.

“One last kiss and I’ll leave, I promise.”

“For God’s sake, just go home,” he growled, but she tugged at his neck and he came to her, kissing her hard and fierce for a moment, his arms locked about her, before releasing her so fast she stumbled, regretting the loss of his warmth as he walked away.

He moved to the mantelpiece and picked up the wolf’s head, holding it a little behind him and not meeting her eyes.

“I’ll see you again soon,” she said, feeling ridiculously pleased.

He grunted and walked to his desk, moving each item in turn just a little, keeping his eyes from hers.

Crecy walked to the door and opened it, pausing in the doorway and quite unable to keep the stupid smile from her lips. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”

***

As it turned out, Crecy would not get to see him again for some days. Regret at that fact and a desperate longing for him was a constant pressure in her chest, but there was nothing to be done about it. Belle needed her, and she could not abandon her sister.

She had hoped that Belle’s relationship with Edward had been growing closer, and to her eye, it seemed as though it was. Edward was quite obviously falling for her, in Crecy’s view, but Belle seemed still uncertain of his affections, and disbelieving if Crecy voiced her opinion. This morning, however, something had happened which had sent Belle into a panic, and Crecy’s plan to visit Gabriel had to be abandoned.

Crecy shivered, cold seeping into her boots and making her already frozen toes ache harder. It had snowed again and the landscape around them was white with hoarfrost, the snow frozen and cracking beneath their feet.

“Edward!” Belle’s voice, desperate and full of fear rang out across the fields once more, but there was no reply. Crecy took her sister’s arm and squeezed as Belle fought back tears. “Why can’t the idiotic man see it was an accident?” she said for the fifth time in as many minutes. “It was my fault entirely; I should never have tried to wake him when he was having such a terrible nightmare.”

“He’ll see that, too, Belle, when he calms down. He’s just horrified at having hurt you. That shows he cares, doesn’t it?”

Belle nodded, sniffing, and they set forward once more. Poor Edward was a troubled man, his experiences during the war had scarred him deeply, and he was prone to flashbacks and violent nightmares. He’d lashed out at Belle, perhaps believing her the enemy as she tried to shake him from his dream, and she’d fallen from the bed, hitting her head. It was a minor scratch, in truth, but the sight of her blood had sent Edward spiralling into the dark, and he’d disappeared.

Crecy sighed. It was too easy to draw parallels between Edward and his cousin, for her, at least. But Edward was a hero, his wounds inflicted by the war, and so his rudeness and sometimes appalling behaviour was forgiven and excuses were made for him. That was as it should be, of course, he should be treated with patience and understanding. The people who cared for him should support him and care for him and ensure he knew that he was loved and not alone.

But who had cared for Gabriel? His trauma was no less devastating, and he had been only a child. Edward had chosen to go to war, the decision of a full grown man. Gabriel had seen his parents die in a brutal manner before his very eyes, and then he had been left all alone. From what Crecy could gather, he’d been alone ever since. There had been no family member willing to take him in, and after the scandal, it was unlikely that his uncle, Edward’s late father, would have adopted him. So Gabriel had been left to be raised by whom? The staff, she imagined, wondering just how long Piper had served him and what he could tell her of his master. And now that Viscount DeMorte was a wealthy and powerful man, full grown, no one cared about what he had suffered, what it had done to his soul, his heart. They saw only the man it had created, not why he had become that man - because no one had cared enough to stop it happening.

Crecy swallowed hard, blinking back her own tears. Well, they would find Edward, and Belle would continue to work her magic. It was obvious to Crecy that they were made for each other, and she felt confident that they would make it work in time. And as for Gabriel …

Crecy sighed, smiling as she remembered his kiss, the puzzled look in his eyes when he discovered she was happy, that he had made her happy. She hoped he wasn’t too disappointed that she hadn’t come today. Not that he would ever admit it if he was. But she began to wonder if he would worry, if he would believe that she hadn’t wanted to come. Slowly, it dawned on her that this was exactly what he would believe. Frowning, she tried to figure out how she could get a message to him as she tramped through the snow. It wouldn’t be easy.

An hour later and Crecy was shivering in earnest.

"You two should get on back inside, it's freezin'," Edward’s rather unusual if devoted valet, Charlie, said with concern in his eyes. He was met with a predictably irritated expression from Belle, who had heard him say the same thing every half hour since they’d begun, and ignored him every time. “Look 'ere, Lady Winterbourne, ye sister is freezin', take 'er 'ome, at least."

"I'm fine!" Crecy shot back, indignant at being used as an excuse, though, to be honest, she was frozen to the core.

"No, you're not," Belle said, admitting defeat though she was clearly disappointed. "We're never going to find him, are we?" Crecy took her hand as poor Belle sounded so heartbroken it made her want to cry.

Charlie shrugged, but his expression wasn't encouraging. "The fellow grew up 'ere, knows every inch of this vast estate. I reckon we won't find 'im if he don't want t' be found."

Belle swallowed down a sob of despair, and Crecy pulled her into a hug. Charlie's face softened. He came closer and laid a hand on Belle’s arm. "I'll keep lookin' once yer back 'ome, so don't you fret so. He's tough as old boots, is Eddie. Bit o' cold ain't enough to do for 'im, I promise ye that."

Belle nodded, giving a smile that didn’t fool either of them. "Come along, Crecy. Charlie is right, of course, and I can't be responsible for you taking ill."

"I told you, I'm perfectly fine, Belle," Crecy grumbled, though she realised her assurance was rather spoiled by the fierce way her teeth were chattering.

"Humour me," Belle said with a smile, taking her sister's arm. "We'll keep looking on the way back."

Crecy sank back into her own worries about Gabriel as they trudged back to Longwold. Perhaps she could bribe one of the maids to put a letter in the post. Only everyone was so devoted to Edward, and loathed Gabriel so much, she wondered who on earth would take her up on it and not tell Edward or her sister. Perhaps the young man who was supposed to accompany her on her rides. When he was supposed to be with her, he slipped away to see his sweetheart so he had no idea where she went to, and as much as she would have to trust him with her secret, so he was trusting her with his. It was a risk, but she had little choice.

A distressed, squawking sound made her jump and she looked around, wondering where it had come from. Letting go of Belle’s arm, her sister made a sound of protest but did not bother trying to stop her as she headed into the woods.

She heard Charlie demanding what she was up to as she ducked her head and pulled at her pelisse, which was snagged on a bramble. The cry came again and Crecy pushed on, heedless of the damage to her clothes as she saw a large bird, hopping and listing to one side as it tried to move away.

“Hush, now, hush, it’s all right,” she said, keeping her voice soft and soothing as she moved closer. The magpie squawked and tried to fly off, but the brambles overhead impeded it and it hit the ground again in an undignified flurry of feathers. Crecy rushed forward and scooped it up, wincing as the bird pecked at her fingers with its sharp beak. “It’s all right,” she soothed, holding it against her and stroking the top of its head. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

Whether it was just admitting defeat and giving itself up to be eaten or whether it truly understood she was no danger to it, she didn’t know. But to her relief, the pecking stopped. She emerged from the undergrowth with bits of twig and leaf in her hair, and Belle greeted her with an affectionate, if long-suffering, expression.

“It’s a magpie,” she said, grinning at Belle, who rolled her eyes. “The poor fellow has broken its leg, I think.”

"Poor devil," Charlie muttered, giving the bird she held a leery expression. "Give it over, Miss Lucretia. I'll take care o' the wretched blighter for ye. Musn't let 'im suffer, eh?"

Crecy glared at him in fury, revolted by the idea. "No!" she exclaimed, holding the bird a little tighter and moving away from him. "I can mend his leg. He'll be fine in a few weeks."

Charlie grimaced at her and shook his head. "An' whatcha gonna do with the poor bugger 'til then, 'scuse my French?" he added, obviously remembering who he was speaking with. "Things probably crawlin' with fleas, and ... ugh."

"I don't care!" Crecy flung back at him.

"Be kinder to put the thing out o' its misery," Charlie grumbled at her as Crecy moved further away, just in case.

"Would you put me down as fast, Charlie?"

They all started in surprise as Edward appeared, looking dirty and dishevelled as though he’d slept in a ditch. Crecy moved away to give Belle some privacy, but turned around a moment later as Edward’s voice rang out. “Don’t touch me!”

Belle jumped away from him and Crecy’s heart sank. She watched as Belle called him back, but Edward just stalked away from her. Crecy returned to Belle, finding Charlie with her, talking to her softly.

“You’re a good friend to him, Charlie,” Belle said, her voice so sad and yet so full of gratitude that Crecy’s heart clenched. Charlie blushed a little at the compliment and touched his fingers to his hat before striding off ahead of them.

"You can't let him push you away, Belle," Crecy said, her voice low as she stroked the head of the bewildered-looking magpie.

Belle smiled at her sister and nodded. "I know that, Crecy, and believe me, I have no intention of letting him succeed." Crecy nodded, smiling at her, and they walked back to the house. Both of them had challenges ahead, that was for sure, but Crecy felt sure that Belle would win her battle. It remained to be seen if her own advances were of any significance, and if there was hope for her, too.