“Wherein Crecy must keep her own counsel.”

By a quarter past ten, Gabriel was pacing the parlour of his London town house with his guts in a knot. His father’s voice was still ringing in his ears and all of his own anxieties were simply piling one upon another until he felt like he might buckle under the weight of it. What if the child was like him, like his own father? What if it grew to be mad and wicked and dangerous?

And then he heard voices at the door, and she was there.

Gabriel held his breath as she was shown into the parlour, and he dismissed the butler with a curt nod. The man, who Gabriel had decided he disliked intensely, gave a disapproving scowl at him for being alone with a young lady, but moved somewhat quicker when Gabriel’s expression rather outdid his own.

The door closed and Gabriel wondered what Crecy would do. Would she run to him? She had wanted to last night. He was sure of it. He had wanted her to. But now she hovered just over the threshold, looking a little anxious and uncharacteristically unsure of herself. He didn’t like to see it.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said, the sincerity in her voice matched by her expression, though her eyes grew troubled and she took a step forward. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Gabriel shook his head, refusing to admit he was touched by her concern. She let out a breath. The two of them stood staring at each other, but of course it was Crecy who spoke first.

“I’m going back to Longwold this afternoon,” she said, glancing up at him and then away again. “I haven’t told Belle about … about anything,” she said, her voice quiet. “But I won’t be able to hide it much longer, so I asked if I could go … go home.”

Nearly four months, he realised, she was close to four months pregnant.

Gabriel nodded as plans began to form in his mind. It would be far easier at Longwold. He’d wondered how to get her away from everyone without being seen. Though it wouldn’t take long for the story to break if she ran away with him. The idea of people gossiping and speaking ill of Crecy made an unfamiliar feeling of protectiveness flame up inside of him. They’d regret it if they did.

But wasn’t that what he wanted, to shame and discredit the Winterbourne family, to tarnish their good name as his own had been tarnished by them? To do that, Crecy would have to be sacrificed. He scowled.

“Don’t … don’t you care at all, Gabriel?” Crecy’s voice was faint and hesitant, and Gabriel braced himself against the flood of emotion that hit him. He didn’t want this, couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t help her either, not how she deserved to be helped. Dammit, why had she thrown herself into his life?

“Did you mean what you said?” he asked, feeling too raw and exposed to answer that particular question.

“I meant everything I’ve ever said to you,” she replied, moving to sit down as Gabriel realised he should have invited her to do ten minutes ago. She looked tired and frail, and some unfamiliar feeling in his chest made his heart contract. “Was there something in particular?”

Gabriel nodded. “You said … you said that you would come away with me.”

He watched, curious and astonished as a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. For just a brief moment, she closed her eyes, and then she smiled up at him, a real, proper smile that lit up her face and made him remember exactly what the days with her had been like, what seemed like an eternity ago.

“Yes, Gabriel. I meant it.”

Gabriel felt the same amount of relief shudder over him and struggled to keep it hidden, but Crecy’s eyes were on him. Why was it that he felt like she saw straight through him? Gabriel turned his back on her, feeling too exposed, and went to stand by the fire. He distracted himself by rearranging the items on the mantelpiece.

“We’ll go on the sixteenth. I’ll bring the carriage to the end of the driveway at Longwold to meet you.”

“I can ride to Damerel,” she offered, but Gabriel shook his head.

“No.” If she fell in her condition … He felt cold and panicky just thinking about it. “You won’t be able to bring anything, but I will provide everything you may require,” he said, hating himself for sounding as though he was negotiating a business deal rather than running away with his lover.

“Very well,” she said, and he could feel the weight of her gaze between his shoulder blades. He should turn around, he should say … something. He should tell her he was sorry, that … that he’d missed her. He had missed her.

He clenched his jaw. No, he hadn’t missed her, he thought with a burst of anger. Missing her implied a wistful desire to see someone again, and it hadn’t been that. It had felt as though someone had carved his heart out with a dull blade and packed the void with salt. It felt like losing his grip on the world - on himself. It felt like dying forever with no hope of peace at the end of all the suffering.

“I can’t stay long, Gabriel.” The regret behind the words was obvious, and he did turn then. “Lady Russell suspects, I think,” she said, laying her hand over her stomach. The sight of that protective gesture stirred something in Gabriel, some desire long since abandoned to know what it was to have a family, a place he belonged, maybe even a place he was loved.

Don’t be so disgustingly sentimental. No one could love you.

He looked away, feeling like he was being split in too many different directions at once. He no longer knew who he was, what he was supposed to do. Before Crecy had come into his life, it had been simple enough. He was hated and reviled, he had no one but himself, and that was the way he liked it. But now …

“I’m so sorry, Gabriel.”

He was startled by the apology, wondering what on earth she was apologising for.

“For not telling you. I should have done. I know I should. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

Gabriel felt a blush stain his cheeks and turned away, walking over to the window. It was on the tip of his tongue to refute her, to sneer and say he hadn’t cared a bit, but it would be too obvious a lie. She would see right through him, and that would be more humiliation than he could bear.

“What time shall I meet you?” He realised she was trying to save him any further awkwardness by changing the subject, and he took a breath, turning to face her. Yes. Best to stick to details. He could make arrangements, that much he was good at, at least.

“When can you get away?” he asked, wondering what she would do if he walked over to her and took her in his arms. Would she be as willing as before? Would she slap him, or be cold, reproachful? He could hardly blame her.

“After breakfast, I suppose, say, ten-thirty, to be on the safe side. I don’t want to keep you waiting if I get held up.”

He nodded his agreement and Crecy got to her feet. She hesitated for a moment and he felt a flicker of hope that she might come to him. It grew as she took a few steps closer, but she was so hesitant that it made him ache with regret for the damage he’d done. Gabriel closed the distance, thinking he owed her that much, and she reached up, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Gabriel closed his eyes for the brief moment her lips touched his skin, memories of other, passionate kisses only to easy to recall.

“Goodbye, then,” she said, and before he could find anything to say of any value, anything that he ought to say after everything he’d done … she had gone.

***

Crecy waved to her sister, giving her a bright smile and wishing she didn’t feel like such a traitor. After everything Belle had done for her, to do this to her was so unfair. But she could not, would not, give up on Gabriel. Belle had Edward who would protect her from anything the world could do or say. Here at Longwold they were protected from the worst of it anyway. Neither of them cared much for the world outside of the gates of the huge castle, and soon there would be another, joyful distraction to stop them from fretting over Crecy’s terrible behaviour.

Belle was pregnant. Crecy was sure of it, and the desire to confide in her sister had been so hard to deny. Belle had been a mother to her when Crecy’s own hadn’t cared, and then for the years after the woman’s death. That they shared different mothers had never mattered a jot to either of them. They were sisters, and they had always looked out for one another. But if Belle found out about the child, she would want Crecy to accept one of the marriage proposals she’d received with all haste, to ensure her safety - and that she could not do. So she must deceive her sister and dearest friend, and the idea of Belle’s pain when she discovered the truth was enough to reduce her to a snivelling wreck. So she didn’t think of it. She had no more choices. She had put her faith and trust and all of her hopes in Gabriel, and she would not doubt him now.

It had occurred to her, however, that he might doubt her. So she was on her way to the village under the guise of sending a parcel to Lady Russell in thanks for her kindness, but in truth to send a letter to Gabriel. It was just a note, assuring him that she was ready to leave and that she would meet him as arranged. Tomorrow, she would place herself entirely in his hands. Crecy could only pray he wouldn’t let her down. Her last meeting with him had been hard. She’d wanted so badly to run to him, to hold him and tell him she forgave him, that she would never leave him, but she sensed he wouldn’t believe such declarations. He needed to come to her, in his own time, and she needed to give him the space to do that, to learn to trust her. But it was dreadfully hard to do.

By that evening, Crecy was all on edge, her nerves convincing her that everyone knew she was about to do something dreadful and was watching her every move. As it happened, however, Belle had her own concerns, as she’d rowed with Edward, who had done another disappearing act.

"He'll be back soon, Belle. He's so much better than he was, anyone can see that." Crecy gave her sister a sympathetic smile. "He just needs to calm himself, you know that. Once he's settled down, he'll be back here begging forgiveness."

Belle smiled at her and nodded, but didn’t look very reassured.

"Come now," Crecy said, seeing how pale Belle looked and feeling only too sympathetic. She gestured towards the untouched bowl of soup in front of her. "Eat up. You must keep your strength up."

Crecy's mouth twitched a little as she spoke, knowing what she was insinuating, and Belle narrowed her eyes at her.

"What do you mean by that?" her sister demanded, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Crecy smiled, looking down at her own soup and not feeling too much like eating it, either. “Belle, I know you better than I do myself. You've never had a fondness for peppermint tea, and you've always loved roast pork and lamb. Especially the fatty cuts." Crecy snorted with amusement as Belle swallowed convulsively. "I'm so happy for you," she added with a broad grin, though sorrow stabbed at her heart. Would she ever see Belle’s child? Would their children grow up together, play together? Of course they would, she scolded herself. There was no doubt in her mind that Belle would not abandon her, no matter what happened. The thought lifted her spirits a little. "I hope it's a boy," she added with a wicked glint in her eyes. "I shall teach him to play in the dirt, and tell a badger's skull from a fox's, and how to tame a magpie."

"Have mercy, Crecy, love," Belle said, looking a little alarmed as Crecy reached out and took her hand. "And besides," her sister added with a sniff, "it's probably a girl."

Crecy pursed her lips. "Actually, that's even better," she added after a moment’s reflection. "I'll teach her all the same things, and then she'll be a sight more interesting than all the other simpering débutantes when she's grown." Crecy gave a dark chuckle as she looked back at Belle. "You love me, really," she taunted, sticking her tongue out at Belle until she gave in and laughed. She let go of Belle’s hand and wondered how far she was about to test that love. She needed to compose a letter and try and to explain, at least a little, so that when they discovered her gone, they would not worry too much.

Crecy forced her thoughts from her own troubles and back to Belle.

"Does Edward know?" she asked, her voice gentler now.

Belle shook her head. "I've wanted to tell him, but I'm afraid how he'll take it, and after today ..."

Although Edward's morbid thoughts were growing fewer and more manageable as he grew to trust Belle and let her in, more and more of them included Belle herself and revolved around his fears for her. As if the fears that stemmed from his experiences in the war had transferred to fears for his wife as she grew more important to him. Crecy could well understand that Belle was worried about revealing her pregnancy to him.

"You mustn't say anything," she said to Crecy, who glared at her, rather hurt that Belle would even suggest it.

"As if I would!"

Belle sighed and nodded. "Forgive me," she said, looking tired and worried and rather worn out. Once again, Crecy wished she could confide in Belle, to tell her she knew exactly how she felt, but that was impossible.

A knock at the door startled them, more so as Garrett and the other staff usually made a scratching sound, which Edward said was easier on the nerves.

A moment later, Edward’s butler, Garrett came through the door, looking uncharacteristically ruffled. "Forgive the intrusion, my lady, but I must beg leave to go and help in the south barn. It's on fire, and with the wind blowing as it is, it could catch the castle, too, if we don't act fast."

"Oh, my word!" Belle exclaimed, setting down her spoon with a clatter.

"Please, my lady," Garrett begged, looking appalled at having frightened her. "There is no need for concern. I took the liberty of sending to the village for help, we'll have it under control in no time."

"And Lord Winterbourne?" Belle demanded as Crecy rose and crossed around the table to take her hand.

"We've not yet seen his lordship," Garrett replied, but he was obviously eager to be gone, so Belle sent him on his way with a plea to take care.

Crecy put her arms around Belle, hugging her tightly. "He'll be fine, Belle. You know he'll be hiding out in the woods somewhere like he always does."

Belle nodded, agreeing, but Crecy could see she was terrified.

"The south barn is full of hay," Belle said, her eyes on Crecy. Neither of them said anything. They both knew how fast that could burn if the fire took hold.

"I can't sit here imagining," Belle cried, getting to her feet. Crecy nodded and the two of them hurried to fetch their pelisses before rushing outside.