A Winter Scandal (17 page)

“I don’t know why you are here, Rawdon, but I want you out of my house. Now.” Gabriel came up beside Thea.

She lowered the candlestick to her side, but decided to keep it in hand as she stepped to the side, her gaze going from one man to the other.

“I am here to see Jocelyn,” Rawdon said.

“And you came
here
?”

Rawdon’s eyes blazed a fierce pale blue, like the center of a flame. “I intend to talk to her. I am not leaving here until I get some answers.”

“Answers?” Gabriel’s voice rose dangerously. “You think you can demand answers—that you can demand
anything
from my sister after what you did to her?”

“Holy hell! Are you still prating about that?” Rawdon said contemptuously.

“You bloody bastard!” Gabriel took a step closer to the other man, his fists clenching at his sides. “You dare to say that? As if what you did to her was nothing? You take my sister! You force her! You make her flee from her family and home in shame? And then you dare to come here and demand to see her? You’re damned lucky I haven’t put a bullet through that rock you have in place of a heart.”

“
Force
her?” Rawdon went as taut as a bowstring, and he, too, stepped forward, his hands curling into fists. “You are accusing me of
raping
Jocelyn? You bloody, arrogant son of a bitch!”

Thea tensed, her heart pounding, certain she was watching murder forming on the two men’s faces. She raised her candlestick with both hands and edged toward them. She had the uneasy feeling she would not be able to stop them even if she started swinging the candlestick.

Fortunately, quick footsteps came from behind her, and Myles snapped, “Alec, wait! Dash it, Gabriel, you don’t know that. You don’t even know for sure Rawdon’s the father.”

Gabriel ignored Myles, focusing only on the man before him. “Yes, I’m accusing you of raping my sister. There’s the proof!” He swung around, his hand shooting out to point at the baby in Damaris’s arms, gazing with wide, solemn blue eyes at the scene before him.

Rawdon followed the direction of Gabriel’s finger. His eyes widened, and for an instant he looked like a man who had just taken a blow to the stomach. He walked past Gabriel, stopping a few feet from Damaris. Damaris did not step back, but she tightened her grip on the baby, keeping her eyes on the tall man’s face. Almost as one, Myles, Gabriel, and Thea moved after Rawdon, coming up beside him. Thea looked from the baby to Rawdon and back again. The similarity in their coloring was undeniable. Could that fierce, almost gaunt visage have once looked like Matthew’s sweet, rounded face?

“This is Jocelyn’s child?” Rawdon’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Truly?”

“And yours,” Gabriel replied flatly. “The resemblance is difficult to deny.”

Rawdon turned his head to look straight at Gabriel. “And of course you would leap from that to the idea that I raped Jocelyn. Did Jocelyn say that?”

“She told me nothing, but it’s not very hard to follow: Jocelyn fled our house rather than face the shame of bearing your baby. For a woman to choose that path instead of marrying the father of her child, she would have to despise the father.”

Rawdon’s blue gaze was glacial. His tone matched it as he said, “If the child is mine, then perhaps I should take him with me.”

“No!” Thea gasped, and Gabriel stepped in between Matthew and Rawdon.

“You won’t touch that child while I’m still breathing!”

“Really? I would be happy to change that state.”

Matthew, who had been watching the scene unfold before him with wide eyes, started to cry at this last outburst of angry voices. His face screwed up, turning red, and tears gushed from his eyes as he let out a high-pitched wail. Even the two furious men flinched at the sound and turned to look at the boy.

“Now see what you’ve done!” Thea snapped, and went over to take Matthew. “I think it’s time you leave, sir.” She jiggled Matthew and patted his back, murmuring in a soothing voice.

“The hell I will! I intend to find out—”

Matthew ratcheted up his screams a notch, and Thea swung around to face Rawdon, her face fierce. “You are upsetting the baby!”

At that moment, with a loud clearing of a throat, a woman’s voice called across the room, “Excuse me, please!”

Everyone turned to look at the front door. A small woman in a fashionable bonnet and velvet pelisse stood framed in the open doorway. Her hands were encased in a huge sable muff that matched the trim at the neck and cuffs of her coat. She stepped inside, followed by a maid carrying a small case.

“Oh, sweet Christ!” Thea heard Gabriel murmur under his breath.

“Emily,” Ian said weakly.

“I apologize for just walking in, but no one answered my knock.” She glanced around, her eyes widening as they went from Gabriel to Rawdon and then to the baby in Thea’s arms. “I, um, am sorry to interrupt.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Gabriel broke the motionless tableau and stepped forward, saying, “Lady Wofford. Please accept my apologies. Come in.” He made a sharp motion at the footman, still hovering in the far corner of the room, and the man hurried forward to shut the door behind the two visitors, then came up to take Lady Wofford’s pelisse and bonnet.

Without her coat and bonnet and the enormous muff, Lady Wofford looked even smaller—the sort of woman often deemed
dainty
and the kind who never failed to make Thea feel as if she were looming over her. She was pretty, with eyes of a faded blue and light brown hair, but her much ruffled and beribboned dress and the complicated rolls and curls in which she had styled her hair rather overwhelmed her, making her seem, perversely, less attractive than she was. A tiny frown marred her brow as she surveyed the group before her. Her gaze stopped on Thea and Damaris, and the small frown deepened.

Thea realized with a blush how odd they must all look to Ian’s wife. Gabriel and Rawdon shouting at each other, each of them still wet about the head and shoulders. Her own husband and their friends standing about watching this scene … and, worst of all, two women she did not know, one holding a screaming child, here alone with the men. Thea had little doubt what the other woman would assume about her and Damaris.

“No, please, Lord Morecombe,” Lady Wofford went on with a stiff smile. “It is I who should apologize to you. I know that a wife is scarcely a welcome guest at a man’s hunting lodge.” Her gaze swept down Thea. “Obviously you are engaged in the sort of male pursuits from which ladies are better excluded.”

Thea’s color deepened as a swift rush of anger replaced her embarrassment.

“Not really a hunting lodge, my lady,” Myles said, smiling. “Just Morecombe’s second house.”

“And you are always welcome here,” Gabriel added, though his wooden voice detracted somewhat from the impact of his words.

“Emily, my dear.” Ian moved forward finally. “Of course you are not excluded. Please, allow me to introduce you to our guests. You remember my cousin Miss Althea Bainbridge, don’t you?” He put a faint emphasis on Thea’s last name, the same as his own. “And her friend, Mrs. Howard. Cousin Althea and her brother live here in Chesley, you know. He is the local vicar.”

“Ah. I see.” Lady Wofford’s brow cleared a little, and she gave a carefully measured smile to Thea. “No doubt things are done differently in the country.”

Thea returned the same sort of smile to Lady Wofford and made a brief curtsy. “Yes, I am told that Chesley is a pleasant relief after being in the city.”

“Lord Rawdon.” Lady Wofford’s faint nod served as nothing more than an acknowledgment of the man’s presence.

“Lady Wofford.” He nodded to her, and Thea could not decide which of the two looked haughtier and less giving. Rawdon turned toward Gabriel. “I’m not done here, Morecombe.”

“Alec …” Myles made a casual move that placed him between the two men. “Lady Jocelyn is not here, I swear to you.”

“Jocelyn?” Lady Wofford’s eyes widened. “Jocelyn is here?”

“No, my dear, of course not. That is just what we were discussing.”

“But—” Ian’s wife glanced back at Lord Rawdon. “My goodness,” she finished awkwardly.

Lord Rawdon shifted as if to step around Myles, and Damaris came forward, hooking her hand in the crook of his arm and more or less compelling him to turn with her toward the door unless he wished to be blatantly rude. She strolled toward the front door as she talked. “Why don’t I show you the way to the village? I was just about to go there myself. There’s a quite passable inn in Chesley, unless, of course, you mean to travel on this afternoon.”

“I don’t plan to travel anywhere else, believe me.” Rawdon let Damaris propel him along, but he stopped now and turned back to look at Gabriel. “We are not finished here.” He gave a general nod in their direction and swung around to open the front door. Damaris started to follow him, but he stopped her with a single chilled glance. “I am quite capable of finding the inn on my own, I assure you.”

Grabbing his hat from the hovering footman, he strode out the door. Damaris stood for a moment, staring after him, before she turned and rejoined Thea. “Well, I don’t understand what that was all about, but he is certainly a rude man.”

Thea nodded. Matthew’s cries had subsided into little shuddery breaths. He rubbed his damp face against Thea’s shoulder, then released a sigh and laid his head down. Something about the gesture made Thea’s throat close up with emotion, and when she glanced over at Damaris, she saw her friend watching Matthew with a faint smile, tears glinting in her eyes.

Damaris blinked and her smile widened to include Thea. “They are so sweet when they’re like that, aren’t they?”

Thea nodded. Once again the thought flashed into her head, as it had several times the last couple of days: what would she do when Gabriel decided to take Matthew? At some point he and his entourage, now including this baby, would leave Chesley to return to London. As Thea had every other time the thought had occurred to her, she pushed it firmly away.

“I cannot think what Lord Rawdon was doing here, and just before Christmas, too,” Lady Wofford said. “Why did he think Lady Jocelyn was here? Have you heard from her, Lord Morecombe?”

Gabriel, who had been glowering at the door through which Lord Rawdon had left, forced a smile onto his face. “No, my lady, I have had no word from my sister. Nor do I know why Lord Rawdon chose to come to the Priory. Clearly, for some reason he believed Jocelyn to be here.”

“I see.” Lady Wofford’s tone indicated that she did not, in fact, see at all, but she did not pursue the matter. Her gaze flickered curiously to Thea and the baby now nestled against her shoulder. “Well, no doubt you are surprised to find me on your doorstep. I do apologize.” She smiled at Gabriel before turning toward her husband. “Your father is most upset that you have not joined us at Fenstone Park, my dear, so I told him I would come try to change your mind. Of course, I know that the last thing gentlemen wish when they gather at a lodge is a wife’s presence.” She made a droll moue as she said the words. “But since you say that this isn’t a hunting lodge, I hope you will not turn me away.”

“Of course you are welcome here,” Gabriel told her. “If you cannot persuade Ian to join his relatives for Christmas, you must stay with us and celebrate the day here. We shall be all the merrier for having a woman’s touch at the feast.”

“You are always such a perfect gentleman.” Lady Wofford smiled.

Ian wrapped his hand around his wife’s arm. “Why don’t I show you up to my room, Emily. You must be tired after your journey today.”

“I did not travel it in one day—you know me, I am such a poor traveler, I’m afraid. But I am a little tired, I will admit.”

She let Ian whisk her away up the stairs, motioning to the maid to follow. The others watched them until they disappeared. Alan swung around and let out a heavy sigh. “Well, that sets the cat among the pigeons, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I would say our carefree bachelor days are gone,” Myles agreed, though his smile showed little concern over the matter. “There is always the tavern in town.”

Alan grimaced and swung around, heading into the great hall. “I am going to enjoy a glass of port and a cigar while I still can. Anyone else?”

Gabriel shook his head. “As soon as I clean up a bit”—he threw a wry glance in Thea’s direction—“I plan to look at the nursery. Ladies? Would you care to join me?”

“I would love to,” Thea replied. “But Matthew has fallen asleep.” She smoothed a hand over the sleeping baby’s back.

“Here, leave him with me,” Myles offered. “I’ll watch over him down here.” He cast a smile at Damaris. “Perhaps Mrs. Howard will stay to help. After all, I shall doubtless need a woman’s expertise if he should wake up and start crying again.”

Damaris chuckled, shaking her head at him. “Don’t think you can gull me, Sir Myles. It is quite apparent that you are more knowledgeable about babies than any of us. But I shall be happy to help you watch over him.”

While Gabriel went off to wash away the residue of the ale Thea had flung at him, the others made a makeshift bed for the baby in the sitting room by positioning two cushioned armchairs together, and Thea laid Matthew down upon it. Gabriel appeared a few minutes later in a clean shirt and neckcloth, his hair still damp from his hasty face-washing.

“Couldn’t you have just tossed some water in my face?” he teased Thea as they made their way up the stairs. “Did it have to be ale? It’s so sticky.”

“It was the closest thing at hand,” she retorted. “Better than bashing you with something.”

“I’ll never forget looking up and seeing you there, facing down Rawdon with that candlestick.” Gabriel let out a laugh. “You are a woman of great worth. Next time I face a duel, I shall bring you as my second.”

Thea rolled her eyes. “Thank you, but I believe I’ll decline the honor.”

They turned left at the top of the stairs and walked along the hallway to where a double set of closed doors led off to the right. “I have never been in this wing of the house,” Gabriel admitted as he opened one of the doors. “But since there is no nursery in the main portion of the house, I assume it must be here—if, of course, there is a nursery at all.”