A Winter Scandal (27 page)

Out of politeness, he delayed telling his story until Emily joined them, which had the practical benefit of allowing him to mentally tailor his story to expunge all mention of Thea’s having accompanied him on the rescue of the baby. He regaled them with the tale over their Christmas dinner, describing everything from the visit to Rawdon at the inn down to his fight with the abductor.

“So you didn’t recognize the chap?” Myles asked, frowning.

“No, though I would not guarantee that I haven’t seen him before. He was wearing a hat and scarf wrapped round it to keep it on, and he had the scarf around most of his lower face as well. It was bloo—excuse me, Emily—it was black as pitch out there, too. I couldn’t get a good look at him.”

“But what did you do then?” Alan paused in cutting his meat. “I mean, where did you go after you found him?”

“We stayed in the cottage where I found the kidnapper. He had it well stocked.”

“You mean, you and the baby alone?” Alan goggled at him. “What did you do with it?”

“The baby? I took care of him, what else could I do? We slept, mostly.”

Alan shook his head, seemingly more impressed by the thought that Gabriel had managed to handle a baby for a day than he had been by Gabriel’s chase through the snowstorm after the abductor.

“Well, at least you know now that Alec was not involved,” Myles offered, pushing away his plate and taking a sip of wine.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Ian protested. “Rawdon could have hired this chap to steal the baby. That way he could whisk it away while establishing an alibi for himself at the inn.”

“Really, Ian, that’s a trifle convoluted, isn’t it?” Myles replied. “How could he have been certain that Gabe would discover the baby missing and come storming over there in the middle of the night to find Alec all snug and safe in his bed? Gabriel only knew the child was missing because Miss Bainbridge awoke and came over here. Rawdon could scarcely count on that happening. The odds would be that Gabriel would not accuse him of kidnapping Matthew until long after it happened, and how could he have proved that he’d been there all night?”

“Perhaps he could not
prove
it, but he would be there, clearly without the baby, and that would establish his innocence.”

“You mean to say he planned this and hired a man to steal the child all in the few hours after he came to the Priory—and in a village where he knew no one?” Myles scoffed.

“Perhaps he had it all planned before he came and that is why he came here to begin with.”

Gabriel stiffened. “You’re right. I had forgotten all about that in the excitement.”

“You think he stole the baby?” Myles asked. “I thought you just said—”

“No. I don’t believe he kidnapped Matthew. Or arranged it, either. I think he was probably telling the truth about that. He was right in saying that he could take Matthew away from me in court if he wanted, and he would be bloody minded enough to do it despite all the scandal that would ensue. But there must be some reason why Rawdon came here. He wouldn’t just drop in to the Priory to say hello. I meant to discover the reason if I could, but the abduction drove it out of my head.”

“What do you mean?” Alan asked. “He came here because of the baby. He must have heard that the lad was here.”

“How would he have known?” Gabriel pointed out, and they all swung their heads toward Myles.

He made a face. “Why are you looking at me? I didn’t tell him.”

“Even if Myles had written to him, there wouldn’t have been enough time for Rawdon to get the letter and come here,” Gabriel said. “The baby hasn’t been in Chesley that long.”

“Besides,” Myles pointed out. “I don’t think Alec knew about Matthew. He was completely taken by surprise when he heard the boy was Jocelyn’s.”

“But that is just it.” Emily’s words took everyone by surprise, as she had been silent throughout the whole exchange, and all the men turned to look at her. She looked somewhat taken aback at the attention, but she lifted her chin a fraction and went on, “We don’t really know that this child is Jocelyn’s. The only ‘proof’ you have is a piece of jewelry that anyone could have pinned to his clothes. I, for one, don’t believe it. I did not know your sister very well, Gabriel, but I found her to be a good, sweet girl. She was not the type to, well, you know …” Emily trailed off, looking flustered.

“Quite right, my dear,” her husband agreed. “We are making a rather large assumption. That baby could belong to anyone. It is my belief that someone is playing a trick on you, Gabriel. This boy is doubtless some lowborn child. His mother got hold of that brooch somehow and left it with him where you would hear about it. Obviously she hoped that you would react precisely as you did—assume the baby was your sister’s and take him in.”

“Ian’s right,” Alan agreed. “It’s all a hum. You should send the boy to a foundling home.”

“He can hardly do that if there’s any chance Matthew is Jocelyn’s child,” Myles retorted. “What you ought to do is bring the baby to the Priory. Plenty of protection here. I don’t think you’d have some chap breaking in and grabbing him, not with all of us around, not to mention the servants.”

“Quite right,” Ian agreed, making a toasting gesture with his glass. “Bring the little fellow over here. After all, we are perfectly respectable now that we have a woman in the household. I am sure Emily would love to have a baby about, wouldn’t you, my dear?”

Gabriel had to press his lips together tightly to keep from laughing. Emily looked as if she had swallowed a fly. But she smiled gamely and said, “Yes, of course, that sounds like just the thing. It would be delightful, no doubt, to have a little one in the house. Of course, I do not know how much longer we shall be here. We have already imposed on your hospitality a great deal.”

“Nonsense, you are always welcome here,” Gabriel responded with automatic courtesy.

His statement had always been true in the past—at least as far as Ian was concerned. (Emily’s presence tended to make any gathering rather tame.) However, he realized as he spoke the words that the open invitation was now a polite fiction. The truth was, the presence of his guests added an unwelcome complication to his life. It would be far easier to see Thea if he was alone at the Priory. He would not have to worry about keeping his friends entertained; he would not have to spend time here playing cards or chatting when he could be down at the vicarage talking to Thea. Right now, for instance, he could not simply ride over to call on Thea as he wanted to do. He was expected to celebrate with his guests, and if he managed to see Thea, he would have to maneuver it so that it fit in with the celebration.

He was far too well-bred to reveal such thoughts, so he uttered the smooth social fiction, then turned to Myles to address his friend’s suggestion to move Matthew to the Priory. “Of course, I will bring Matthew to live with me at some point, but I think for the present it is better if he remains with Miss Bainbridge. He is familiar with her and happy there. And there is really no reason to move him just yet. I have set up a guard at the vicarage to make sure nothing happens.”

Gabriel did not add what was uppermost in his thoughts, which was that he would not think of distressing Thea by taking Matthew away from her. Besides, if the baby resided here, Gabriel would no longer have a handy excuse for calling at the vicarage.

“It would not be fair to the baby, in any case, to keep him here, as I will be gone much of the time. I want to get my hands on the man who abducted the baby. I can’t help but think that he might lead me to whoever left Matthew at the church. I must know whether it was Jocelyn. And if it was not my sister, perhaps whoever did leave him has some knowledge of her.”

“But surely that person has already left the village,” Emily pointed out.

“Unfortunately, I imagine that you are right. But I have to keep trying, nevertheless. I cannot ignore any possibility that it will lead me to Jocelyn.”

“No, of course,” Emily agreed, nodding, though Gabriel could tell from the look of pity in her eyes that she suspected he was doomed to disappointment. “You must do whatever you can.”

Everyone at the table fell silent for a time after that. Unsurprisingly, it was Myles who started a new conversation.

“What Christmas activities do you have planned for us, Gabriel?” he asked, grinning. “Charades, perhaps? Games?”

“You clearly spend too much time with your sisters’ children,” Ian told him dampeningly.

“Well …” Gabriel cast a glance around the table. “I understand there is morris dancing in the village.”

“Morris dancing?” Emily asked, her nose wrinkling. “Truly? You want to watch men dance with sticks?”

Myles laughed and slapped a hand to the table. “Sounds like just the thing.”

“Only if we have a glass of brandy before we go,” Alan said.

“Or perhaps two,” Ian added.

It took some time to get everyone clad for the outdoors and ready to go, especially given the round of brandy before they left. But finally they got into Emily’s elegant carriage—the only vehicle in the stables large enough to house them all—and started out. Myles began singing Christmas carols as they rode, and Alan had consumed enough brandy by then to join him. Even Emily unbent enough to sing along with everyone else.

The village had an empty look when they arrived, but they followed the stragglers down the road toward the vicarage, and soon the crowd and the dancers came into view. The carriage stopped short of the crowd, and they disembarked. Gabriel was the last to emerge, and he paused before he stepped down, casting a quick glance over the crowd.

He spotted Thea immediately. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, and she wore no hat, so the sun gleamed on her thick hair, picking out the red highlights. Curls clustered around her face, and more curls fell from the crown of her head. She turned to look at the carriage, and her eyes met Gabriel’s across the distance. Something warm and eager swelled in his chest, and Gabriel grinned. He stepped down from the carriage, and as he did so, his gaze fell on the man standing behind Thea.

Rawdon
. Jealousy stabbed through him, as swift and sharp as a knife. Scowling, Gabriel strode toward them.

Fifteen

A
s Gabriel walked toward Thea,
Rawdon stepped up beside her, and the intimation of protection in the other man’s stance infuriated Gabriel.

“What the devil are you doing here?” Gabriel stopped in front of Rawdon, his hands doubling into fists at his sides.

Rawdon raised his brows in his coolly annoying way. “Watching the village festivities. Much like you, I imagine.”

“I invited Lord Rawdon to join us for Christmas,” Thea put in.

“You
invited
him? When you know that I don’t—” Gabriel stopped abruptly, realizing that his words were exactly the wrong tack to take with Thea.

“What I
know,
” Thea began, crossing her arms and settling her level gaze on Gabriel, “is that Lord Rawdon went out into a snowy night to search for Matthew. I also know that Christmas is a time of peace and goodwill. I think it would be advisable if you remembered that, as well.”

A number of furious retorts crowded Gabriel’s mind, most of them about how he did not want Alec Stafford, Lord Rawdon, anywhere near Thea, but Gabriel had the good sense to keep the remarks to himself. Swallowing his anger, he unclenched his fists and said, “Of course.” He smiled at Thea, but the glance he turned on Rawdon was far less mild.

Rawdon gave him a look of faint amusement, then turned toward the others in Gabriel’s party, who had since caught up with him. “Lady Wofford.” He sketched a bow. “Gentlemen.”

“I would have thought morris dancing was a bit too common an entertainment for you, Lord Rawdon,” Gabriel commented.

“Ah, but that shows how little you know me, doesn’t it?”

Emily watched the dancers weave in and out in an intricate pattern, knocking their cudgels together, their feet all the while tapping out the jiglike steps. “How … quaint.” She gave Myles an amused smile. “Not exactly the Paris Opera Ballet, is it?”

“No, but somehow here in the country, we manage to make do with our trifling diversions.” Thea gave the other woman a sharp, short smile.

Myles glanced from Thea’s stony face to Emily’s startled one and smothered a grin. Damaris moved in, saying in a pleasant tone, “The steps are handed down from generation to generation. When we look at them, I believe we are glimpsing an England from centuries past.”

“Indeed, Mrs. Howard?” Myles was happy to play along with Damaris’s peacekeeping lecture. “Do tell us more.”

Gabriel turned to Rawdon. “I want to talk to you.”

“Indeed.” Rawdon eyed him thoughtfully for a moment, then moved closer to the house, stopping beyond the hearing range of the onlookers.

Gabriel followed him. As he moved, he cast a quick glance around the crowd until he caught sight of Matthew in Lolly’s arms, standing with Gabriel’s servant on one side of her and the indomitable Mrs. Brewster on the other. He relaxed a little.

“No one has approached him,” Rawdon said unexpectedly. “I have kept an eye on the nursemaid and his guard.”

Gabriel glanced at him, faintly surprised. “Thank you.”

Rawdon’s only reply was a shrug. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Yes. I have been thinking about your arrival at the Priory the other day. Why did you come?”

If possible, the other man’s face became even more remote. “Why does that matter?”

“It simply does. I am not trying to attack you. I just want to know why you chose to visit the Priory.”

Rawdon’s jaw set, and for a moment Gabriel was sure Rawdon was going to refuse to answer him, but then with a bitter twist of his lips, Rawdon said, “Because, fool that I am, I wanted to see Jocelyn. I wanted to hear it from her own lips.”

“Hear what?”

“The truth.”

Gabriel frowned, but decided not to pursue that avenue of conversation for the moment, instead going back to his original concern. “But Jocelyn was not here. Why did you think she would be?”

“Because she told me she was going to see you. I went to London first, but they said at your club you had come here.”

“You talked to her?” Gabriel stiffened, staring at Rawdon.

“No, she wrote me.”

“Jocelyn had been corresponding with you?” The world seemed to tilt around Gabriel.

“No, of course not. I haven’t heard from her since she left last year. But a few days ago, I received a letter from her.”

“Why? Why would she write to you?”

“Because, unlike you, Jocelyn does not hate me,” Rawdon retorted acidly. “She wrote to ask my forgiveness, if you must know, and she said that she was traveling to see you.”

Gabriel felt as if his former friend had punched him in the heart. “Did you know about the baby?”

“Not until I saw him.”

“Then where
is
Jocelyn?” Gabriel flung his arms out to the side. “Why is she not here?”

“I have no idea. When I got here, I thought you must be hiding her from me. I stayed, hoping I would be able to catch her somewhere in the village alone. But then when the baby was stolen from Miss Bainbridge’s house, well, it was clear that Jocelyn was not here.”

“Sweet Jesus,” Gabriel murmured. He looked at Rawdon. After all the time he had spent despising the man, it seemed unsettlingly familiar to be standing here talking to him once again. “Then Jocelyn did come here and abandon her child at the church—I cannot believe Jocelyn would do that!”

“Perhaps she assumed that if she left the brooch with the baby, someone would bring him to you. It seems exceedingly trusting, but then Jocelyn is a sweet, naïve girl.” Rawdon paused. “Or at least she seemed so back then.”

“Why would she not simply come to me?”

“Perhaps she was ashamed. If she was not married …”

“But surely she would realize that I would not turn her away. That I would not think ill of her. She must know I would never judge her.”

Rawdon’s eyebrow quirked up and he directed a long stare at Gabriel before he murmured, “Perhaps I am not the best person to respond to that statement.”

Gabriel flushed. “You think I was too quick to judge you? How did you expect me to behave? It was obvious that my sister fled from you!”

“Obvious!” Rawdon stiffened, jamming his fists into the pockets of his coat. “How was it obvious that I was in the wrong?”

Gabriel’s temper was beginning to rise again, too. He could see out of the corner of his eye that people were casting glances in their direction, but his anger was too hot for him to worry about the proprieties. “Because I knew that you had not behaved as a gentleman. I heard what you had done.”

“You ‘heard’? You ‘knew’? Of course you would have believed anything you heard about me, any rumor or calumny. It would never have occurred to you to believe me, would it? Or even to ask!” Rawdon whirled and started away, then turned back. He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his coat and reached inside, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “Here. Read it for yourself. I don’t care. I have nothing left of my pride, anyway.”

He shoved the piece of paper into Gabriel’s hand, then turned and strode away.

Thea had been carefully observing
the confrontation between the two men, ready to intervene, and when Rawdon abruptly thrust something at Gabriel and left, Thea hurried over to Gabriel. He was still standing where the other man had left him, staring down at a folded piece of paper in his hand.

“Gabriel? Is everything all right?”

He looked up at her a trifle blankly. “She wrote him a letter. My sister—she wrote
him
a letter.”

Thea reached out and took Gabriel’s arm. “Come. Let’s go inside. Better to read it there.”

He nodded, letting her lead him back into the house. Thea took him to her brother’s study in the back of the house, where they were less likely to be disturbed, and pulled him down onto the small sofa beside her. “What does her letter say? Is she here in England?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t read it. I’m almost afraid to.” Gabriel gave Thea a wry smile. He returned his gaze to the paper, unfolding it. “It is Jocelyn’s hand; I recognize it.”

He began to read. When he was done, he simply sat for a moment, like a man stunned, then wordlessly handed the letter to Thea. She took it and read what Jocelyn had written.

Dear Alec,

I pray that I may still call you that. It is my earnest hope that despite the transgressions I have committed against you, your generosity will yet extend to reading this note from me. I do not ask for your forgiveness nor do I expect it. But I would entreat you to accept my most heartfelt apology.

You offered me the great and precious gift of your name, and I answered it with deceit and betrayal. I have no excuse.
I was young and foolish. I was in love, and I believed myself loved in return. That I was deceived in that regard is no excuse for the deception I dealt to you. In the end, I could not bear to continue to lie to you and everyone I held dear.

I thought all well lost for love, even my good name. I told myself that you would have a better life without me. I hope that this, at least, was true: that your life has been happier and that you have found another who will be the wife you deserve.

I am sorry, truly sorry, for the pain and shame I have brought to you, as well as to my family. I hoped that if I fled to the Continent, I could keep my scandal from tainting everyone else. But now I realize I must return. I can only trust in my brother’s good nature to take me in with the same kindness shown to the Prodigal Son.

Yrs.,

Jocelyn M.

Thea raised her eyes to Gabriel’s still face. “Gabriel …”

“Have I been wrong about him all this time? I was so certain that she had run from him, yet here she is, begging
him
for forgiveness.”

“It was understandable. What else would one assume when she left rather than marry him?”

“Even now, I don’t know what to think,” Gabriel admitted. “Everyone had always talked about the Staffords; they are that sort of family. I discounted most of the rumors. But after Jocelyn became engaged, there were more, and they weren’t just vague. They spoke of women Rawdon had hurt. Still, I could not believe it of him. I shrugged them off. But when Jocelyn ran away, I feared that I had been a fool to trust so blindly in Alec. That is when I learned about a lady on whom he had forced his attentions. The woman had no reason to lie—her honor would have been badly compromised if word of what had happened had gotten out.”

“Then it would seem reasonable to assume that he had hurt your sister or at least frightened her enough that she ran away,” Thea agreed.

“All that time, when I feared her dead, she had just fled to the Continent!” Gabriel shook his head in disbelief. “I had the runner check at the ports and he found no trace of her, but I didn’t seriously believe that she would have gotten that far, anyway. I would never have dreamed she had such a well-planned scheme. Or the resources.”

“Perhaps she was not alone.”

“She may have had her maid with her. The girl vanished at the same time, but I was not sure if she accompanied Jocelyn or if she merely vanished because she feared being blamed for Jocelyn’s running away.”

“No, I didn’t mean her maid. I meant another man. She says that she was in love, that she thought that she was loved in return.”

“Of course.” Gabriel shook his head. “I am a trifle slow today. If Rawdon is not the father—and I cannot imagine he was after this letter—then another man was.”

“She said she was deceived. Perhaps he told her he loved her and would marry her, and they ran away to the Continent. Perhaps they even did get married.”

“It makes sense. Jocelyn was engaged to Rawdon, but she didn’t love him. Maybe it was because she thought I was pushing her to do so.”

“Or perhaps she thought she loved him, then realized she did not. You said she was only nineteen, didn’t you? Or maybe she heard the same rumors about him that you did, and she regretted her decision.”

“In any case, she fell in love with another man—how, God only knows. She was always chaperoned.”

“Still, she went to parties and balls, and there are always a number of young men there.”

“True. She could easily have met a man and even imagined herself in love. But when would she have been alone with him enough to—” Gabriel stopped, catching the significant glance she sent him. “Yes, of course. One finds a way.”

“You said her maid ran away, too. Perhaps her maid accompanied her on trips about town, to shop and make calls and such.”

“Only, instead of that, Jocelyn was really meeting her lover. No wonder Hannah vanished when Jocelyn left. She had been helping her mistress deceive us all. So this fellow took Jocelyn to France or Italy or wherever. But then her dreams fell apart. I doubt he married her since she said she was deceived. My guess is that he was a fortune hunter. Perhaps he mistakenly thought Jocelyn had money of her own. She had a good dowry, of course, but that was in my control, and I would not have accepted a fortune hunter for her. Other than that, she did not have any money—at least, not until her mother passes on, which will probably be many years. When he found out she did not have a fortune, he abandoned her. And her child.”

“So she came home. To you.”

“Except she did not.” Gabriel sighed. “And that brings us back to the crux of the matter. Why did Jocelyn leave the baby in the church?” He took her hand in his and sat for a moment, looking down at their linked hands. “Rawdon said Jocelyn might not have come to me because she was ashamed. Do you think that is true? That she was fearful of my disapproval?”