Chapter 21
Christmas day was unlike anything that Kathleen could ever have imagined. Gabriel refused to have dinner served in the dining room since they had turned up unannounced on Christmas eve with no warning to the staff. Instead, they had a quiet morning walking to church, the church service, then a large Christmas lunch in the staff quarters with all the staff in attendance. Gabriel had threatened them all with dismissal if anyone was anything less than jolly because he and his wife were in attendance.
At first, the atmosphere was rather stilted, and Kathleen feared that they were ruining everyone’s Christmas until Gabriel started to reminisce about some of the things he had got up to as a lad. Usually in his role as one of the servants—such as when he had placed manure inside Cedric’s boot or when he stitched closed the cuff of his father’s favourite coat.
Everyone began to relax then and told their own tales of life below stairs. It was fascinating. When it came to Kathleen, she was able to tell them of the long voyage from America and what it was like to be on board a ship for six weeks. All about her poor sister casting up her accounts for days and about the handsome sailor who tried to get her to marry him. Gabriel did scowl at that part of the story. And everyone chuckled when she pointed this out.
They spent the evening in the drawing room drinking tea, playing cards and reading—just the two of them together and Kathleen thought she could be quite content if this was her life. Gabriel was excellent company.
Once again, when they went to bed, he took her to the heights of pleasure and afterwards she fell asleep, sated and content in his arms.
By afternoon on St Stephen’s Day, Kathleen was feeling the most content and happy she could ever remember feeling. They were wandering through the snow near the dower house when she spotted a carriage with out-riders trundling up the private road to the castle.
“Gabriel, who do you suppose that is?”
He narrowed his gaze and squinted at the carriage.
“That is the ducal coach. It appears Hartsmere has found us and wants his pound of flesh. Come.”
But instead of leading her to the castle, he led her to the dower house. He opened the door and led her in. The place smelled musty and unlived in. It was cold and damp and Kathleen shivered involuntarily.
“What are we doing?”
“Let him wait,” said Gabriel turning his wife into his arms and popping the buttons on her pelisse.
“Gabriel, do you mean to tumble me here?”
“Do you have a problem with your husband making love to you?” He had enough buttons on her pelisse undone now that he had access to her neck and started pressing kisses to it.
“I do when you are tumbling me just to get some sort of strange revenge on your father. Are you hoping he shall come looking for you and see you taking me from behind and slapping my arse?”
Gabriel stilled at that. She was not sure if it was her use of the word “arse” or the idea she had put in his head. But he frowned.
“I apologise.”
“I am not some courtesan you can use to get revenge on your father. I am your helpmeet. Do not treat me like a possession, Gabriel.”
“I have hurt you, have I not?”
“No. But if we make love now, then we make love. We do not have sex to seek revenge on your father. If, in the process, he has to wait for us to return to the castle and it inconveniences the Duke, then that would be a terrible shame. Would it not?”
“It would be,” he said mockingly.
“It would seem a little rude.”
“I agree.”
“Almost as if we do not respect such a refined gentleman of the ton.”
“You mean, almost as if I thought he was a blaggard who is not worthy of my time?”
“Indeed.”
“That would be terrible.”
“It would,” She said, pulling his head down towards hers and undoing a couple of buttons at the front of her gown so that she could free her breast to his touch. Thank goodness she had foregone stays this morning.
He kissed her as though he was a starving animal and her lips and mouth were his last meal. The tension in his muscles told of a man out for revenge but scared to let go in case he hurt her.
“I cannot, Kathleen. This is revenge. Not love.”
“Then love me. Like you did at the inn, in the garden, in the boating shed, in our bed. Forget about what happens when we leave here. The only revenge we are truly seeking is keeping a self-important man waiting. The rest should be about our pleasure.” She leaned over the couch and started to pull her skirts up.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought you would want to do it this way because…”
“No, this is about our pleasure. I did it that way in the garden because there was little choice. Come, let me lay you on the chaise and make love to you properly.
And he did. He took a long time laving and sucking at the most sensitive parts of her body. When eventually he undid his breeches and sank into her, she had released three times and was mindless with the need to feel him inside of her.
He moved slowly at first, kissing her neck, collarbone, ears, face and lips. He was increasing the need in her own body. When she urged him to go faster by digging her booted heels into his backside, he growled into her neck.
“You drive me to Bedlam, my lady.”
“I believe you have taken me there three times already, my lord.”
He chuckled, gathering her closer as he increased the speed of his thrusts.
She screamed her release moments before he pushed into her hard and stiffened. His features grimacing and the warmth of his seed filling her.
“God, I love you so much,” he managed as he rocked slowly in and out of her, his breathing laboured as he finished spending himself completely.
“I shall always love you. No matter what happens when we go back to the castle, remember that you are mine and he can take away financial support and the roof over our heads but he cannot take away our love. And we have Aunt Matilda’s money.”
“Aye, we have that.”
“And we have friends, Gabriel. Good friends.”
“Indeed.”
“If the worst comes to the worst, we take Kirkbourne’s carriage and head for his estate. That’s where he said to go.” He did not seem pleased with the idea. Kathleen sighed. Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden, and he scowled.
“What is the matter?”
“It seems that our love is enough for me but not enough for you. Which is odd since you were the one who grew up with nought and I was pampered and spoiled. How things have changed.”
“You are enough for me. But you deserve more than this.”
“I want you, Gabriel. Only you. The rest is like icing on a cake. Pretty and tasty but it is too much eventually, and it is not filling and wholesome. Love and family are what is filling and wholesome. I could have had the icing with Cedric and I would have been miserable and probably bruised and… well, not given a choice if I did not want to bed him.”
“But you would have had money.”
“And what if one day he hit me, forcing me somewhere I did not want to go, like the night at Lady Arbuthnott’s then let go and I hit my head and died, my lord? It happens. Look at Patsy’s husband. There are no pockets in shrouds.”
He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips.
“You make a good point, my lady.”
“We have kept the Duke of Hartsmere waiting long enough.”
She batted at him until he moved off her and adjusted her clothing as best she could. Gabriel fixed his own clothing before helping her with the lacings of her gown.
∞∞∞
They put back on their outdoor clothing and returned to the castle. The ducal coach with its ostentatious emblem still stood outside the front door. A couple of footmen, whom Gabriel recognised, stopped when he approached the door. He smiled at them and was surprised when they bowed. These were men with whom he had supped ale in an inn.
He led Kathleen under the large portico of the castle and through the front door which was held open by the butler.
“I see he is here. Is he in the drawing room?”
“Yes but, you…”
“Fine. Don’t bother to send up tea. He is not staying.”
“But…”
Gabriel sent a wave over his shoulder that suggested he cared not what the butler had to say. When he got to the drawing room doors there were two servants standing guard like sentries or footman. Why the devil did he have footmen at his drawing room all of a sudden? He supposed it was because a Duke was here.
“Kathleen, my love. My father and I have a fraught relationship. Please ignore anything he says or anything I say. Just know that I love you and anything I say is to wound or shock him, not you.”
She nodded stoically.
He nodded to the footmen who looked a little concerned and strode in as they opened the door. He began speaking before he even looked towards his father.
“Sorry, Your Grace, I was tumbling my countess in the dower house. You know what a draw that place has.”
He stopped as Kathleen nudged his side and hissed his name. His gaze settled on Godfrey who had jumped to his feet and was standing wringing his hands.
“Where’s…” Gabriel started, but he stopped when Godfrey executed a low bow.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
Gabriel’s gaze did a quick search of the room, but his father was certainly not here. He looked behind, but the man had not appeared in the doorway after him.
“If you are calling me Your Grace, Godfrey then…”
“Our sire is dead, yes. You are the ninth Duke of Hartsmere. I am your humble servant.” He bowed again.
“Up Godfrey. Please stop grovelling. Tell me, he is dead?”
“Aye, Your Grace.” Godfrey sighed. “Well, you can imagine he was in a real temper about your defection and marriage. He went to see…” he gestured to Kathleen. “Uh, Her Grace’s father and was not pleased with the result of the meeting. Apparently, her father is considering giving her dowry to you and funds to set you up. Not that you shall need them now. But he came out of the Roberts’ townhouse in a foul temper. Cedric called out a warning as he crossed the road, but Father was so busy railing and shouting back at Mr Roberts and threatening him with ruin that he did not hear, or he ignored Cedric’s warning and a coach and six, which apparently was going at some speed for a town street, ran him down. The horses trampled him and there was nothing could be done to save him.”
“I may ask one of those young men outside the door to arrange a tea tray after all,” Kathleen led Gabriel to a love seat and urged him onto it and patted his knee. He clasped her hand briefly then let it go. He felt like he had been trampled by horses himself. He despised his father, but he’d not prepared himself for this.
“And Cedric.”
“Shocked but fine.”
“You came in the ducal carriage.”
“I thought you would want to ride home in it. Did I overstep the mark? I am sorry, Gab… Your Grace.”
Gabriel waved a dismissive hand at him. “You are still my half-brother. Gabriel is fine.”
“Tea is on its way.”
“About the coach, old boy, I was only doing what I thought was right.”
“It is fine, Godfrey. It seems sensible to bring the ducal coach if I am, after all, the Duke. Good God.” He shuddered visibly. He had known this day would come but the idea of it was quite sobering. And he had been prepared for a showdown with his sire. The feeling of anti-climax was quite, quite overwhelming. He stood—unable to sit still and paced to the window. “When did it happen?”
“Yesterday morn. The Duke decided he was going to spoil the Roberts’ Christmas morn. I suppose that was why the coach was travelling so fast. He did not expect anyone to be out at that time on Christmas morn except a few servants and they would be looking where they were going.”
“How are Cedric and your mother taking the news?”
“Cedric is in shock. He said the Duke’s body was badly broken. He does not have a strong stomach, as you know. Mother is being stoic. She seems… relieved. She was even asking if she had to go into mourning since she was his mistress.”
Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “I suppose there are no rules for mistresses. We shall have to purchase mourning clothes as soon as we get back to town. How will we tell Christina?”
“I sent a messenger with a note for Stalwood to his Richmond estate. I assume they would have gone there because of the weather.”
“Aye, they did. Godfrey, why are you doing all this?”
“All what?”
“You came here, you have arranged for Christina to find out. What else have you organised?”
“Just for Father’s solicitor to attend you once you return. Gabriel, I did not mean to overstep the mark. I merely…”
“You have not. I just want to know why you, the youngest of my siblings has had to take charge.”
Godfrey blink then pursed his lips. “Cedric is an arse.”
Gabriel felt the bubble of laughter explode in his throat before he roared with glee and lurched forward to slap his half-brother on the shoulder.
“Indeed he is, brother. Indeed he is.”
Godfrey looked rather nonplussed and Kathleen just looked amused as the tea tray was brought in.
“You must be hungry Godfrey.”
“I am. Could have chewed on the leg of one of the outriders. But was not sure of my reception here so wanted to make it in good time to find an inn and hire a horse if necessary for the return journey.”
“You thought I would cast you out of my home.”
“Well, you have been treated abominably, Gabriel.”
“Not by you, Godfrey. You always tried to affect the fashionable ennui, but you made a pretty poor job of it.”
“I am an outcast in society. It is easier to pretend not to care, Gabriel. I am a bastard, after all.”
“Some people may treat you with disdain, but you are the son and now the brother of a duke.”
“They think I am like Cedric and I am nothing like him.”
Gabriel sighed. Now was not the time to undo years of sibling rivalry and Cedric’s bullying ways. “We shall talk about it more when we get back to town. I can tell you for one thing—I am sure my duchess is relieved to see that you are wearing breeches rather than inexpressibles.”
“Miss Violetta Masterson prefers me in these,” he said grinning.
“You are wearing them for a young lady?”
“She is the granddaughter of the Earl of Moncliffe. His third son’s daughter. She is five and twenty, and as pretty as a picture but she… is lame. She needs to use a crutch to walk. Many in the ton have ignored her as a result. Her dowry is substantial. But I do not care about that. I am sure Father will have left enough for me. She understands me. I met her but a week ago, but I cannot wait until I see her again. She says she does not care that I am a bastard.”
“She sounds lovely.”
“Yes, she does. People are idiots if they cannot see past her need to use a crutch. Why, we are friends with the Duchess of Kirkbourne and she uses crutches sometimes and is carried other times. She is delightful,” put in Kathleen.
“So, if I marry a lame woman, you will not give her the cut direct?” he asked, hope filling his gaze.
“Never,” said Gabriel, and Kathleen shook her head vehemently. Godfrey let out a breath and visibly relaxed. Damn, Gabriel hated society. The poor chit had a problem walking and had probably been ignored and insulted all her life.
“Maybe once we get back and everything is settled, we can have her around for dinner. And you as well of course,” said Kathleen
“That would be kind of you. Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Please, call me Kathleen, since you are my brother-in-law. So, when are we headed for London?” She turned to Gabriel. He glanced out of the window and grimaced.
“I thought mayhap we should wait until morning.”
“I agree. Godfrey will be tired from travelling, you need time to come to terms with everything that has happened, and we would just be setting out when we would have to stop to rest for the night.”
“I thought you said snow was not dangerous.”
“Only freshly fallen snow. Look at the sky. It is clear. The snow shall freeze overnight and be like a frozen lake. The horses would break their necks. No, we should wait until morning.”
“You really are like my own personal weather vane, my love.”
“Only when it comes to snow. I know it better than you. Now I should go and speak to the staff about dinner and getting a room prepared for Godfrey. I shall be back presently.”
Kathleen left, and Gabriel headed for the sideboard. Lifting a glass, he motioned to Godfrey who nodded eagerly. He really was a bit like a pup who just wanted to be loved. Gabriel was not sure he could manage to love his half-brother. Perhaps too much water had flowed under that particular bridge, but he could learn to respect the chap, given time. Now he just had to get used to the fact that the Duke of Hartsmere was no longer a man he despised. The Duke of Hartsmere was himself.