A Winter Scandal (19 page)

“That
is
too bad,” Thea commiserated. “Mrs. Howard and I went to pay a call on Cousin Ian and Lord Morecombe at the Priory.”

“Cousin Ian? Mercy sakes, why did you go to see him? Really, Thea, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to spend so much time with Lord Morecombe. It doesn’t look good, a single woman like yourself jaunting all over the countryside with a known rake like Morecombe. A woman’s reputation is a precious thing; it is easily damaged and almost impossible to repair once it is ruined.”

“It is hardly like you to sound so … so pious. I am scarcely jaunting about the countryside. I have simply helped Gabriel look for Matthew’s mother.”

“Matthew? Who is Matthew?” Daniel asked crossly.

“The baby who was left in the church. Daniel, really …”

Her brother scowled. “That baby. That’s another thing. I don’t understand why you are fussing over that child. The foundling home is the place for him, not the vicarage. It’s bad enough that you are spending time with Lord Morecombe—and, really, Thea, you should not call him by his given name, you know; it simply does not look right—but the fact that the two of you are carrying this baby about only makes it that much worse. People have begun to talk. I have already heard the whispers—why is Morecombe always hanging about here and where did the baby come from? There have been hints that perhaps the baby itself is the connection between the two of you.” He looked at her significantly.

“Of course it’s the connection between us,” Thea began reasonably, then stopped, staring, as she caught the implication of his words. “Wait a moment. Do you mean—are you saying that people are implying that Matthew is mine?” Her voice slid upward as it grew in volume. “That I am his mother and Lord Morecombe is his father?”

“It’s ridiculous, of course, and it’s only just whispers and sideways glances now. But you must realize how such things grow and become rumors, and then before long everyone is talking about it.”

“But it’s absolutely absurd! How could it even be possible? Lord Morecombe only arrived in Chesley a few weeks ago! I had not even met him before the Squire’s party! And exactly how could I have carried this baby for nine months, then delivered it six months ago, all without anyone in the village knowing about it? Or even suspecting anything? How could I possibly have kept such a thing secret for the past year? When would I have carried on some mad affair with a London nobleman? I mean, really, I ask you, when would I have delivered a baby in secret? I never go anywhere. I have never lived anywhere but this village. When have I ever done anything but take care of all the little problems of St. Margaret’s and its parishioners? Everyone in Chesley knows everything there is to know about me. They have seen and remarked on each detail of my life down to what shoes I wore to church last Sunday and to whom I nodded on the street yesterday. I have no secrets! In short, I have no
life
!”

“Thea!” Daniel hissed, casting a pained glance in the direction of the kitchen. “Have a care! Keep your voice down. Everyone in the house can hear you. Mrs. Brewster is the soul of discretion, of course, but that nursemaid is bound to gossip.”

“What does it matter?” Thea shot back. “According to you, everyone in the village already thinks I’m a doxy! Why should I care if they decide I’m a shrew as well?”

With that parting shot, Thea whirled and stomped up the stairs, leaving her brother staring after her in slack-jawed amazement.

The afternoon turned grayer and the clouds more lowering as the day wore on, and the main topic of conversation at the Nativity rehearsal that night was the possibility of snow for Christmas. The rehearsal consisted of little except putting on their costumes and being placed in the positions in which they would stand on Christmas Eve, for there was no dialogue, but it seemed to take an inordinately long time and a great deal of conversation. Thea was greatly relieved when the whole thing was over and she was able to go home to the vicarage and sit down with a nice cup of hot tea in the kitchen. Mrs. Brewster had already left, but the kitchen was still warm and spicy with the aromas of her holiday baking. The next day was Christmas Eve, and Mrs. Brewster would be baking and cooking more or less without pause.

The house was quiet. Matthew was sleeping in Lolly’s room tonight since Thea had been out for much of the evening, and the two of them were already upstairs fast asleep. Daniel was, of course, in his study reading. Thea thought about going in to talk to him, but she was still feeling a trifle ruffled from their less-than-amicable discussion this afternoon. Instead, she finished her cup of tea, thinking idly about the list of things she had to do the following day. Christmas Eve was always busy at the vicarage, what with the arrival of the Yule log and the poor of the parish coming to the door for gifts of food, not to mention making the plum pudding and other dishes for the feast the next day.

When Thea went upstairs to her room later, she could not resist walking quietly down to the small room at the end of the hall and peeking inside. Lolly was asleep in the narrow bed, the covers pulled up to her ears. The baby’s basket lay between her and the door, and Thea tiptoed the few steps to the basket to peer down at the baby sleeping inside. The sight of him tugged at Thea’s heart as only sleeping babies can, and she stood for a long moment, simply looking at him.

Finally she turned and slipped back down the hall to her bedroom. She undid the ties of her dress in back and pulled it off, then untied the ribbon of her chemise and removed it as well. As the material slid across her bare breasts, she could not help but remember this afternoon and the way Gabriel had touched her breasts, his fingers expert and sure. Her nipples grew taut just at the memory. Thea curved her hand over one of her breasts as he had done, and she wondered how it had felt to him. Had he found her small and unsatisfying, or had the weight of her breast in his palm sparked desire in him as it had in her?

Thea turned to the mirror and studied her naked chest. She wondered how her body would appear to Gabriel, and she feared that he would find her narrow and unwomanly. She felt a little guilty to be gazing at herself naked. No doubt it was a sin. But she did not turn away. Instead, she untied her petticoat and pantalets and slid them down so that she stood fully nude. She stared at her long, slender legs and the swell of her hips, the flat plain of her abdomen. Her curves were womanly though not lush. If Gabriel saw her this way, would he think her desirable or would he find her lacking?

A shiver ran through her at the thought of Gabriel looking at her naked, and her nipples tightened perkily. She thought of his dark eyes gliding slowly down her body, aglow with passion as they had been when he kissed her today. Thea closed her eyes as she raised her hands and let them drift down, smoothing over her breasts, her fingers circling her nipples and feeling them tighten into hard little buttons in response. There was pleasure there, but not the same as it had been when Gabriel touched them. She moved downward, sliding over the bony outcroppings of her ribs and onto her waist and stomach, her fingers slipping ever nearer to that magical center that Gabriel had found and ignited into passion. She stopped as her fingers touched the springing curls there, and she pulled her hand away quickly.

Whatever was she doing? Thea whirled away from the mirror and picked up her nightgown, pulling it over her head and thrusting her arms into the long sleeves. She buttoned it up to the very top, then pulled her dressing gown on top of it as if she were donning armor. However, the clothes did not stop the persistent little ache that had started between her legs. She was shamefully aware that the only thing that would ease it was the touch of Gabriel’s fingers there again. Thea blushed at the thought and began to take down her hair. She brushed it out, feeling it crackle and curl around the brush, wild as it always was in the winter.

Normally she would have plaited her hair into two thick braids to keep it from tangling as she slept, but tonight she did not. She was too restless, too unsettled. Even that restraint seemed bothersome. Finally, she simply tied it back with a ribbon at the nape of her neck.

Blowing out her light, she knelt on the little steps beside her bed to say her nightly prayer, finding it both lengthier and far more jumbled than usual, before she climbed into bed. It was dark and she was tired; she should have gone to sleep easily. But tonight sleep was a long time coming. As soon as she closed her eyes, thoughts of this afternoon flooded her mind, with nothing to distract them or pull her away. She remembered each kiss, each touch. The sounds and scents and tastes teased at her senses again, tempting and taunting her.

Scold herself as she might for the wanton thoughts and hungers that surged in her, Thea could not rid herself of them. She turned her face to her pillow, cool upon her heated skin, and wished that she did not feel the things she did. No … she was honest enough to correct her thought. The problem was not that she wished she didn’t feel the way she did. The problem was that not only did she enjoy this feeling, she wanted to feel it all over again. And more.

Thea let out a groan and turned over, pulling the pillow over her head as if she could block out her thoughts. It did not work, and finally she simply gave up and turned her mind over to the rush of memories.

She was unaware she had finally fallen asleep until she awoke. Groggily she blinked, then glanced around her room, making out the shapes of the furniture in the darkness. She wasn’t sure what had awakened her. Clearly it was still nighttime; no trace of light seeped in around the draperies. Thea tried to snuggle back into sleep, but something nagged at her, and finally she slipped out of bed, throwing on the dressing gown that she had laid across the foot of her bed and thrusting her feet into her soft house slippers. Putting on her spectacles, she padded over to the window and pushed back the edge of the drape, peering out into the night.

“Oh!” She sucked in a sharp breath of wonder.

Moonlight lit the landscape gently, and in the light she could see the falling flakes of snow. She leaned her head against the edge of the wall, gazing out at the softly swirling, floating snowflakes. It could not have been falling long, for only a frosting of snow was on the ground and along the bare, dark branches of the trees. Thea smiled, thinking how perfect it would be to have snow for Christmas. She hoped that it would continue to fall long enough to last through the next two days.

A faint thud sounded, jerking her out of her dreamy contemplation of the snowfall. She turned around, frowning, and crossed the room to stick her head out into the hall. Something pricked at her consciousness, some memory or thought that was gone before she could grab hold of it. She glanced up and down the dark hallway, seeing nothing unusual, and for a moment she contemplated simply going back to bed. However, she knew that she would be unable to find sleep unless she had gone downstairs and found what caused the noise. Turning, she went to the fireplace and lit a twist of paper from the still-hot coals. She used it to light the small oil lamp on her dresser and carried the lamp out into the hallway.

It was cold downstairs, which was always true, but tonight a distinct breeze curled around her ankles beneath her dressing gown. Holding up the lamp, she turned toward the front door. It was standing open a few inches.

She stood frozen, staring, and as she did so, a little gust of wind pushed the door open and it swung back to thump lightly against the wall and rebound almost closed again. Snowflakes drifted in and landed on the floor, melting almost instantly. Thea shivered, and the movement seemed to wake her from her trance. She hurried forward and pushed the door closed. Her heart was hammering in her chest, though she told herself there was no reason to be afraid. No doubt the door had simply not been well shut and the wind had blown it open. After all, no one would be out creeping into houses on a night like this, would they?

For her peace of mind, Thea made a quick tour of the downstairs, looking into each room to make sure it was empty. Then she started back up the stairs. Halfway up the stairs, she paused, looking at the little wet spot on the stairs, illuminated in the light of the lamp. She moved the lamp back and forth, peering down more closely at the stairs. Here was another little damp spot on the wooden stair beside the cloth runner. And a drop of moisture was trembling on the stair rail. As she stood there, staring, something dropped into place in her brain, and she realized what thought had eluded her drowsy mind earlier when she left her bedchamber. She had stepped through her open doorway when she left the room—and she was certain she had closed her door last night before she went to bed.

Her pulse began to race, and Thea ran up the remainder of the stairs. The corridor stretched out in front of her, and she hurried down it, making as little noise as she could. An indefinable fear clutched her chest, driving her straight to the nursemaid’s room at the end of the hall. Lolly’s door, too, stood open, and Thea had to swallow hard to hold back a choked whimper. She knew she had closed the door to Lolly’s room, as well, after she had checked on the baby.

At a glance she saw that Lolly still lay in the bed, snuggled deep in her covers. Thea tiptoed to the basket, holding the lamp up. There was nothing there but the pillow that formed Matthew’s bed. The baby was gone, blanket and all.

Eleven

L
olly! Lolly!” Thea shook the
girl’s shoulder. “Lolly, wake up! Where is Matthew?”

“Wha—” Lolly sat up groggily.

“Where is the baby? What’s happened to Matthew?”

Lolly blinked at her. “What? Miss? Why—he’s in his bed.” She pointed over at the basket.

“No. He’s not.”

Lolly scrambled out of bed and ran to the basket, then frantically searched the rest of the small chamber, babbling as she looked, “Matthew! Matthew! Oh, miss, where could he have gone?”

Thea’s mind was racing. Matthew could not have climbed out of his basket and crawled away. He had not even started crawling yet. And it was utterly absurd to think he could have opened the front door.

Clearly someone had entered the house and taken the baby.

Still, she had to make sure he was not in the house. Thea turned to Lolly, saying, “Check everywhere in the house. Look in any room he could have crawled into. I’m going for help.”

Thea hurried back to her room and threw a dress on over her night rail, thrust her bare feet into boots, and topped it all with her cloak. Grabbing a knitted cap and gloves, she spared a moment to check with Lolly.

“No, miss. I’ve checked them all!” Tears stained the girl’s face. “Except the master’s room, of course, but his door’s closed. Oh, miss, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what could have happened!”

“I have a fairly good idea. If I am right, Matthew is warm and safe enough, I think. But I will need help to get him back. You keep searching, just in case. I shall return as soon as I can.”

“But, miss, it’s snowing!”

“I know.”

Thea ran downstairs. In the kitchen, she lit the lantern, tugged on her gloves and cap, pulled up the hood of the cloak, and took off into the night.

The moon and lantern gave her light enough to see her way, but the snow was falling harder now, making it difficult to see any distance in front of her. Fortunately, the path was as familiar to Thea as the village. She had grown up playing with her siblings around the church and old convent grounds.

The bridge was a little slick, as was the flagstone path to the church, but once she turned off through the graveyard, the dirt path was not slippery despite the snow, and Thea took it at a fast pace, breaking into a trot whenever she could. Her heart was pounding, her breath coming in rapid spurts. She barely noticed the cold, but the trip seemed endless. After she passed the ruins, the landscape was less familiar, almost devoid of landmarks in the white storm, but she could still make out the narrow path immediately in front of her by the light of her lantern. It was eerie out here alone in the dark, with the snow falling around her, and for one panicky moment she felt disoriented and was afraid that she had strayed from the path.

But then she saw the dark bulk of the Priory ahead, and she rushed on with a renewed effort. When she reached the door, she crashed the brass door knocker against its plate with all her force, beating out a determined tattoo. She did not wait for someone to open the door, but reached out and pulled at the handle. Unfortunately, unlike her own front door, someone had locked it, and she could not make it budge. She returned to beating on the door until suddenly it swung open to reveal an astonished-looking footman, obviously roused from his bed.

Thea pushed past him, still carrying her lantern, and ran to the foot of the stairs, screaming, “Gabriel! Gabriel! I need your help!”

With the sound of pounding footsteps, in the next moment Gabriel appeared at the top of the stairs. His hair was tangled, and he was shirtless and barefoot.

“Thea!” He ran down the steps, pulling on his shirt as he came. “What happened? What’s the matter?”

“He’s taken Matthew!”

“What? Who—” He stopped on the bottom step, just above her. “The devil! Rawdon? He’s taken Matthew?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t see it, but it must be he! I woke up and the front door was ajar and Matthew was missing! Someone came in and took him. And Lord Rawdon said—”

“That he should take his son away from me,” Gabriel finished grimly. “I’ll kill the bastard.” He turned and pointed to the footman. “Get my curricle brought around. Immediately!” Gabriel swiveled back to face Thea, taking her hand in both his. “Don’t worry. We shall get him back. I promise you. I’ll just go dress, and we’ll leave as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.” For the first time since she had found Matthew missing, Thea relaxed, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

Gabriel turned and ran back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. As he reached the top of the stairs, Ian and his wife appeared, wrapped in their dressing gowns, babbling questions.

“The baby’s missing. I have to go.” Gabriel pushed past them.

“What! What’s happening?” Emily exclaimed, and they moved out of Thea’s sight, following Gabriel down the hall.

She could still hear their voices, though she could not make out the words—the rapid flood of questions and Gabriel’s terse replies, Emily’s voice rising rather hysterically until finally Ian snapped at her to shut up. After that the woman began to cry, and all the voices quieted, followed by the sound of doors closing. In a few moments, Gabriel appeared again, dressed and booted now, though he had not bothered with a neckcloth. He was shrugging into his overcoat as he came.

“Gabriel, wait!” Ian came to the top of the stairs. “You can’t just go storming over there!”

“The hell I can’t.”

“But you don’t know what’s happened. You don’t know that it is Rawdon who took this child. You don’t even know where the baby is.”

“Who else would it be?” Gabriel countered. “I’ll tell you what I do know: Rawdon said he would have his son, and now Matthew is gone. And I’m going to the inn to get Matthew back.”

“I wish Myles and Alan weren’t off drinking. Blast Emily for showing up and bringing gentility to the house. If they were here, we could hold you and keep you from going off half-cocked.”

Gabriel shot him a cool look. “You mean, you could
try
to hold me here.”

Ian sighed. “I’ll go with you then. Just let me get dressed.”

“No, stay with your wife.” Ian rolled his eyes and started to protest, but Gabriel went on, “I can’t wait. Rawdon may be leaving town; I have to get there as soon as I can. If I need help, Myles and Alan may still be at the tavern.”

“Bloody domesticity,” Ian muttered.

“Don’t fret.” Gabriel clapped Ian on the shoulder. “Go see to your wife. I have to leave.”

Gabriel took Thea’s hand and picked up her lantern with his other hand, but to her surprise he turned and went down the hallway behind them. She understood why he had turned that way when he strode into a room, pulled a box from a cabinet, and opened it to reveal a set of dueling pistols. Checking to make sure the guns were loaded, he stuck them into the great pockets of his coat, then led Thea out of the house by the back door.

“Good Lord!” he said as they stepped outside. “It’s snowing.” He looked at her. “You came here through the snow?”

She nodded. “I know it took a great deal of time. Perhaps I should have gone straight to the inn and confronted him myself.”

“No!” He scowled. “You definitely should not do that. He is not someone you can count on to act like a gentleman.” Gabriel started off toward the stables, putting his arm around her and pulling her against his side. “You were right to get me. But I hate to think of you tramping through this nasty weather.”

“It isn’t that far if you come through the ruins instead of round by the road.”

“You struck out across the countryside?” He let out a little laugh and his arm tightened around her shoulders. “Ah, Thea, Thea … you are definitely a daughter of Boadicea.”

The groom had worked quickly, despite being awakened in the middle of the night, and by the time they reached the stables, he had harnessed the pair of horses to the light open carriage. Gabriel gave Thea a hand up into the curricle, then hung the lantern from the front of it and climbed in to take the reins. The hood of the vehicle protected them in large part from the falling snow, but it did not keep the flakes from drifting in from the sides. Thea was grateful for the warm fur lap robe.

The snow had completely covered the road by now, adding to the difficulty of seeing it in the darkness, but much of the lane was lined on one side or the other by a hedge, which made it easier to follow. The matched grays seemed to have little trouble staying on the road, though Thea noticed that Gabriel drove them at a much slower pace than he had the other day.

“Tell me again what happened,” he said after they had maneuvered out of the Priory grounds and onto the main road into the village. “Everything.”

Thea described to him how she had awakened and looked out at the snow, then had heard the noise and gone downstairs to investigate. She explained the drops of water she’d seen on the floor and the stairs, adding, “I realized that it had to be melted snow that had dripped off someone who had come inside since it started snowing. And I remembered that I had closed the door to my bedchamber, but it was open when I awoke.”

“He had been in your room?” Gabriel’s hand clenched on the reins.

“I assume he must have been looking for the baby. Matthew has always been in my room before—though I can’t imagine he would know that—but tonight Lolly took the baby to bed in her room because I was at the rehearsal. Oh, I wish I had brought his basket back to my chamber when I got home!”

“Don’t blame yourself. Rawdon would have taken him no matter whose room he was in.”

“But I might have heard him and awakened. Maybe I could have kept him from stealing Matthew, or at least raised an alarm.”

“Yes, and you might have been hurt trying. Or you might have slept through it just as Lolly did. Don’t worry; we shall get him back. Hopefully Rawdon wouldn’t have been fool enough to set out for London in this snow. I don’t know what he hoped to accomplish by doing such a thing, other than to cause me some bad moments. Of course, he seems to think Jocelyn is with me, so perhaps his purpose was to force her to talk to him.”

“At least I was somewhat reassured when I realized that it must have been Lord Rawdon who took the baby. I mean, he would not harm his own son, would he?”

“I would not think so, though God only knows. I cannot understand his mind.”

They reached the village sooner than Thea would have thought possible, given the snowstorm. When Gabriel pulled the curricle into the yard of the inn, it took a moment for an ostler to come hurrying out to take the team from him. The lad gave Gabriel an odd look, but that changed quickly enough to admiration when Gabriel pressed a silver coin into his palm. “Pull them in and keep them warm, but don’t unharness them just yet. Tell me, is Lord Rawdon still here? Has he ridden out tonight?”

The ostler’s eyebrows went up. “That swell from London, sir? Nay, his black’s still in the stable, right and tight. Beautiful piece of horseflesh, that one.”

“Yes, he is. Good.” Gabriel gave the boy a pat on the shoulder and turned to Thea, who had jumped down from the carriage while he was talking to the ostler. Gabriel took her arm, and they hurried into the inn.

Gabriel veered into the public room as soon as he stepped inside, and Thea peeked curiously around his shoulder into what constituted Chesley’s main tavern. The fire in the great fireplace had burned down to embers, and a potboy was wrapped in a blanket, asleep on the rug in front of it. No one else was in the room.

“Sir Myles and Mr. Carmichael aren’t here?” Thea asked. “Where could they be? We didn’t pass them on the road.”

“There’s another place, ah, not too far away.” He shifted uncomfortably and glanced around. “They, um, know some people there.”

Thea looked at him blankly for a moment, then colored as she realized what subject Gabriel was dancing around. “Oh! You mean … um, women. Of that sort.”

“It’s a possibility,” he admitted, then turned quickly away and strode out the door. He walked to the stairs, bellowing, “Rawdon! Get out here!”

Thea flinched at the noise, thinking rather belatedly of the other guests who might be staying there. Still, she could think of no other way to find the man. Knocking on every door in the place would wake everyone as well. She started up the stairs after Gabriel, who continued to shout the other man’s name. A door or two opened down the corridor, heads popping out to stare at them.

“Blast it, Rawdon, answer me!”

Two rooms down, a door slammed open and Lord Rawdon appeared in the doorframe. He was dressed in his shirtsleeves, waistcoat unbuttoned and his neckcloth gone, but he looked fully alert and not as if he had been in bed. Thea noted that he still wore his boots.

“Holy hell, Morecombe!” he growled, stepping out into the corridor. “What are you doing? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Did you think that would stop me? Did you really hope to wait out the snowstorm and leave tomorrow morning before I found out? Well, I know, and I’m here, and by God you will give him back to me or I’ll tear you limb from limb.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re blathering about.”

Gabriel sneered and shoved past Rawdon into the room.

“What the devil?” Rawdon turned to stare after Gabriel as he went into the center of the room and turned all around, looking. A candle burned on a low table by the bed, casting a dim yellowish glow over the place. It was not much light, but the room was small, and even Thea could see, standing out here in the corridor, that no child was in the room.

“What the hell have you done with him?” Gabriel charged back out of the room.

“With whom? Are you foxed?”

“Of course I’m not foxed!” Gabriel roared. “Give him to me!”

“Leave me alone. You’re bloody mad as a hatter.”

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” The innkeeper came pelting up the stairs behind them. His bony frame was swathed in a florid dressing gown, and a nightcap was tilted rakishly on his balding head. “Pray what is the matter here?” He smiled at them and genially nodded beyond them at the other guests who had emerged from their rooms. “Whatever the problem, I am sure we can sit down and discuss this peacefully. Perhaps downstairs.”