“Wherein sunrise brings terror and the threat of bloodshed.”

Crecy woke in the room she had called her own at Longwold, feeling disorientated. After an emotional few hours with Belle, she had been exhausted and gone to have a nap, and now it was dark, apart from the bright moonlight that flooded the room through the open curtains. She lit the lamp beside her and hauled her heavy body upright. She was hungry, she decided, and Edward’s wonderful cook, Puddy, was bound to have something delicious in the kitchen if she hunted about.

With a yawn, she shuffled out of the bedroom door, realising it was later than she thought, as the castle was in darkness and none of the staff about. Pausing in the corridor, she felt a stab of alarm as she heard a furious argument coming from Belle’s room. Feeling like an eavesdropper, but anxious for Belle, she moved closer to the door just in time to hear a baby’s high-pitched wail. Ah, that would be Eli. The little baby boy certainly had a fine set of lungs, though he had been all smiles for his aunty Crecy earlier on.

“Now you’ve woken the baby!” Belle’s exasperated voice snapped.

“I wasn’t the one shouting,” Edward retorted, though he sounded rather chastened in Crecy’s view, which was quite amusing.

“I wouldn’t have been shouting if you hadn’t ruined everything, Edward. You must go and see him, call the whole thing off!”

“Damned if I will!” Edward shot back. “After what he did? Besides, it’s a matter of honour now.

“Honour be damned! Edward Greyston, if you kill Crecy’s husband, she’ll never forgive you, and if he kills you …” At this point, Belle’s voice broke and she began to cry as hard as Eli. Crecy couldn’t hear anything past a loud buzzing in her ears, though. Belle had said Edward had gone to Bath that day to meet an old army friend. He must have run into Gabriel. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. She had to stop this.

She raised a fist, about to pound on the door, when the front door bell began to ring and didn’t stop, accompanied by someone hammering on the door.

“What the devil is that?” Edward exclaimed, pulling open the door and nearly running into Crecy.

The two of them started in shock whilst the ringing and banging continued unabated.

“Promise me you won’t do it!” Crecy said, not giving a damn who was at the door, only that Gabriel was safe. “Promise me, Edward. Gabriel isn’t who you think.” The words tumbled out, one after the other, so fast she didn’t know if she was making the least bit of sense. Edward looked a bit astonished by her outburst on top of the cacophony downstairs, but she pressed on. “He’s a wonderful, kind man and he loves me, Edward. You have to believe me.” She was crying now, and Belle came out, still sobbing and holding the wailing baby.

Edward looked between the three of them as Garrett hurried to the front door downstairs. “Good God, this is a bloody mad house,” he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “Fine, fine, I’ll find a way to call it off, though I still don’t understand why, but I tell you this, if the fellow calls me a coward, I’ll have his blood one way or another.”

“He won’t, I promise he won’t,” Crecy said through her tears. Though the idea that Gabriel had agreed to it was a cold feeling sliding beneath her skin. Of course, the way men’s stupid ideas on pride and honour worked, she supposed he couldn’t very well have said no. Her thoughts were side-tracked, however, by a woman’s voice from downstairs and Garrett’s indignant tone as he tried to eject her from the house.

“Garrett, what the devil is going on?”

Garrett looked up as they all hurried down the stairs. “There is a … lady who is desirous of speaking with you, my lord.”

When they got closer, Crecy saw a rather vulgarly dressed woman standing just inside the door. She had been beautiful once, but an ugly scar marred one cheek.

“Oh,” Crecy exclaimed in surprise as she realised who this was. “You’re Mrs Wilkins.”

The woman’s eyes opened in shock. “Lady DeMorte?” she said, staring at Crecy’s bulging stomach. “He told you about me?” She looked more than a little scandalised, which, in other circumstances, Crecy would have found amusing.

“Yes, of course,” Crecy said, beaming and holding her hands out to the woman. “And how he fought a duel for you. I was never more proud of him. How do you do?”

Mrs Wilkins looked really stunned, now, and barely managed to stammer a reply. “V-very well, thank you.”

“Fought a duel for her?” Edward exclaimed, staring at Mrs Wilkins with suspicion.

“Yes,” Crecy said, nodding. “Lord Aston. He badly hurt this lady and…” She hesitated, not wanting to be indelicate.

“He gave me this,” Mrs Wilkins supplied for her, pointing at her scar.

Edward frowned, clearly surprised by this. “That’s why he killed Aston? I heard it was gambling debts.”

“Of course you did,” Crecy said with disgust. “Because no one would ever consider Gabriel could do anything honourable.” Her words were so full of accusation that Edward stilled, looking a little uneasy.

“Never mind that, now,” Mrs Wilkins, said, sounding impatient all at once. She grasped Crecy’s hand. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you with him?”

“Because he knew I wanted to see my sister,” Crecy said, an increasingly uneasy feeling prickling up her spine.

“Oh, God,” she said, sounding horrified. Before Mrs Wilkins could say more, however, another ring came at the front door.

“What on earth …” Edward said as Garret stepped forwards again to reveal an elderly-looking man on the doorstep.

“Lord Winterbourne,” he exclaimed without delay, hurrying inside. “Tell me I’m not too late?” he gasped, looking around with wild, anxious eyes. “I didn’t know where else to come.”

Edward’s mouth dropped open, his expression utterly dumbfounded. “Too late for what?” he demanded, looking like he thought the entire world had run mad.

“Viscount DeMorte,” he began as Crecy felt a wash of terror hit her like a ragging sea.

“What?” she said, hurrying forward. “Oh, my God, what has he done?”

“Are you Lady DeMorte?” Bainbridge asked, his face full of concern. “I’m your husband’s lawyer. Please forgive me for this strange visit. I’m so sorry to cause you distress, only … his lordship was with me today and he … he has tied up his affairs in a way that led me to believe … to suspect …” He trailed off as Crecy’s worst fears were realised.

“No!” she gasped, her heart leaping to her throat in horror. “Oh, Gabriel. I must go to him at once.”

Crecy was forever grateful to Edward, who might not have understood what the devil was going on, but realised time was of the essence. “May we use your carriage, mister…?”

“Bainbridge, my lord, and yes …Oh yes, at once.”

***

Gabriel sealed the last of the letters and laid it upon the pile on his desk. That one had been for Piper, asking forgiveness for the unpleasant task he was asking of him. He could not have Crecy seeing the evidence of his last act, however. He didn’t want her to remember him in such a way. He hoped that in the past few weeks, he had brought her some happiness, at least. She had seemed happy, though he often thought that she pretended her pleasure in his company just to make him feel better. She was too good, too generous for such a dark soul as his. But she would have a brighter future now.

Hopefully, the truth of his death would be buried, as he had given detailed instructions and left money for the necessary bribes that might be required to do so. So after the initial scandal had died down, it could only ever be speculation, and after that she would be clear of his taint. A beautiful young widow with a child would always gain sympathy, and she would be as popular as before. Perhaps she’d marry again? He pushed that thought aside as fast as he could, the pain of it too great to contemplate. That would be her affair.

As methodical as ever, he checked off each letter against the list in the notebook, his hand lingering over the one that bore Crecy’s name. He had thought he’d be at peace with the idea of leaving her now, knowing that he was doing it for the best. The idea of his … his obsessions and vile reputation bringing harm or ridicule to his child in the future was more than he could bear. What if they escaped the taint that the Greyston blood so clearly bore, only for him to contaminate them just by his presence? The child would be taunted for having such a father. A boy would find himself condemned to follow in his footsteps, as he would never be accepted by his peers, a girl untouchable as the young men feared her father or feared the next generation of children she would bear would bring another generation of madness in the world.

But if he was gone, the memory of him would fade over the years and they could start afresh. People would see only Crecy’s bright smiling face, and surely that would find acceptance anywhere?

It was right. It was the right thing to do. He must do it. But, oh God, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to leave her, couldn’t bear the thought of her loving another even as he told himself he wanted only her happiness. He wanted to see his child born. Crecy was certain it was a daughter, and the thought of it, the thought of some pretty little child with blonde curls was enough to make him put his head in his hands.

Stop it, stop it. If you want to be a man, a good man, if you actually want to do something decent for once in your miserable life, do this.

Gabriel hauled in a breath, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He placed the little diary he had promised Crecy she could read beside his letter to her, hoping she could see the pains he had taken to ensure that both her and their child were safe and secure. All of his less reputable interests had been sold off and everything else put in Crecy’s name. He prayed he’d thought of everything. For a moment panic overtook him, but then he let out a breath. Edward would know what to do; he would protect them. Gabriel knew that was true.

He took a moment to rearrange the items on his desk, even knowing it was ridiculous, but finding at least that it was easier to walk away from it now. Piper always checked his desk for correspondence to be sent first thing in the morning, knowing his master often worked into the early hours, so he would find the note in his own name long before Crecy was due home. Hopefully, early enough to send word to detain her and keep her at Longwold. She would do well to sell Damerel; this godforsaken place had seen nothing but misery - well, except for when she’d been here, he amended.

He moved to open a large cupboard under some of the bookshelves, reaching in and taking out a beautiful and ornate wooden box. Gabriel unlocked it and looked at his father’s duelling pistols. He could still hear him, that despicable man, raging that Gabriel was a coward and a failure, a disappointment and a disgrace. The only thing that had changed was that Gabriel no longer cared. He knew there was truth enough in the words, but not because he hadn’t destroyed Edward, but because he had listened at all.

Gabriel loaded the pistol with care, the same one his father had used. It seemed fitting, somehow. Carefully, he stripped off his coat and waistcoat, finding the idea of covering the fine cloth in blood unacceptable, and headed out of the house. He wouldn’t subject any of the servants to the kind of mess his father had left them. It was too cruel.

The first tentative fingers of light were creeping over the sky as he walked, the day already warm. The air was sweet and Gabriel weighed down with the realisation that he had never before wanted to live so very much. For so many years, he had longed for someone to call him out and put a bullet to his brain, to save him from the constant battle that life had become, against his father, against Edward, against himself, and now that he was giving himself permission to give up … he didn’t want to do it.

He reached a large outcrop of stone that jutted out over a steeply sloping field. From here, the land fell away, an expansive view stretching out for mile upon mile of fields and forests. Gabriel had come here often, when things were at their worst. He had found comfort in the peace and beauty of the place, and in the idea of how small and insignificant he was in the scheme of things. If he died, the earth would not stop revolving, the sun would still rise, and soon enough his body would return to dust, as did everything else. There had been a strange sense of serenity in that.

Gabriel sat down, his long legs swung over the edge of the rock, the pistol lay in his lap, as he waited for the sun to rise. He had promised himself one last sunrise. He could only hope it was time enough to find the courage to do what he must.

***

The carriage ride to Damerel was horrific. Crecy was beside herself with terror, trembling and sick with fear as Belle tried to comfort her and hold her tightly, begging her to be calm for the child’s sake. But Crecy could not be calm; if Gabriel did this, she did not know how she would go on. That she would, she didn’t doubt, for his child would be loved and cherished as no child before or since, but how she would do it, she just could not imagine.

“I don’t understand,” Edward grumbled for the fifth time as the carriage jolted them over the road, the horses going at breakneck speed and giving them a very rough ride. “You’re telling me Gabriel is killing himself for your sake?”

“Yes, yes,” Crecy sobbed, wishing Edward would just realise that his cousin was far more troubled and broken that even he could understand. “Edward, do you not know what his father did to him?”

Edward returned a blank look. “I know he saw him kill himself,” he said, frowning a little.

Crecy snorted in disgust. “You have no idea, do you? He found his mother dead in a pool of blood, and then his father put a gun to Gabriel’s head. He told Gabriel it was all his fault she’d had an affair with your father. He’d come between them. They’d been happy before he’d been born, and he should have been drowned in the lake,” her voice became angrier and louder as she spoke, as she saw Edward’s face pale, and she realised he didn’t have the slightest clue. “He said that Gabriel had to promise to destroy your father and you, or he’d kill him there and then, and even if he agreed, that he would haunt Gabriel until he got what he wanted … then he turned the gun on himself.” Crecy choked, her heart too full of fear and sorrow. “He was ten, Edward. What if that had been Eli? Could you do such a thing to your own son?”

“No!” Edward looked dreadfully shocked, horrified at the very idea. He shook his head. “No, of course not. You’re right, I … I simply had no idea.”

“He was all alone, Edward, all alone in that big house and your father, and you, the only family he had, shunned him. How do you think that felt?”

Belle was sobbing beside her now as Edward just swallowed, his green eyes troubled.

“I can’t imagine,” he admitted, his voice low and troubled.

By the time the carriage drew up at Damerel, the sun was breaking over the horizon. Crecy flew out of the carriage as fast as she was able to, despite Belle’s protests, as Edward ran ahead of them, all of them shouting for Gabriel.

Piper came running out of the study, ashen faced as he held a sheet of paper in his hands. “Oh, my lady,” he said.

“Where is he?” Crecy screamed, feeling as though she would lose her mind at any moment.

“He’s gone down to the rocks … I know the place,” Piper said. “But perhaps …”

Crecy ran forward and grasped his arms, shaking him hard, absolutely out of her mind with terror. “Show me!”

They hurried outside, following Piper and cursing his slowness as he could not go at much of pace. “Down there,” he gasped, gesturing to the south. “He’ll be down there.”

Edward ran ahead, but just as she crested the rise, she saw Gabriel, silhouetted against the sun as he raised the pistol to his head.

“Gabriel!” she screamed, as her legs finally gave out beneath her. “Gabriel, no!”