Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace (39 page)

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Authors: Regina Jeffers

BOOK: Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace
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“If I leave. If you send me away, I will never return,” Grace declared defiantly to his retreating form. “I shall know the love of a child–something that will forever be denied your sorry soul.”

Gabriel turned menacingly. “Do not tempt me, Grace. Your offense could easily earn me a divorce. I have weathered one scandal, another will be of no significance.”

Surprisingly, his wife stood her ground. “Divorce me then. Send me and the child from your life. Even then, I shall be richer than you, my Lord.”

Gabriel paused. How had this conversation gotten so far from his control? “I have business in Town,” he said evenly.

“Then this is farewell, my Lord,” she said through a stream of tears. “May God protect you, Gabriel.”

Once again, he had alienated himself from all he held most dear. “Farewell, Grace.”

*

He had set Mr. Sanders the task of packing him a portmanteau, and then Gabriel had spoken to Mr. Thomas about removing Grace from Gossling Hill to his Devon property. Other than the obvious pin money, he had instructed his secretary on how to handle Grace’s expenses, as well as those of the child.

“Please tell me you have not banished the one good thing in your life,” Bel declared as she entered his study without knocking.

Gabriel dismissed Mr. Thomas before answering the duchess. “I do not believe my personal decisions are any of your concern, Your Grace,” he said testily as he returned to the paperwork he wished Mr. Thomas to execute in Grace’s name. Despite his earlier threats, he would never divorce his wife. Yet, he could not forget how he had trusted her, and how Grace had betrayed him. First, Gardenia Templeton. Most recently, Alice Haverty. And now, Grace.

“Then you did the unbelievable,” his aunt accused. “You named your wife a wanton. You turned your back on the one woman who could give you everything you desire.” In her best duchess voice, his Aunt Bel declared, “Until today, I have never been disappointed in you, Godown.”

“I have never asked for your approval,” he said in a childlike snit.

“Oh, really?” she said with confidence. “Should I provide an abbreviated list of our approved interactions…” she began.

Gabriel’s fist came down heavily on the desk. “That will not be necessary. However, I will remind you this is different. This is between Lady Godown and me.”

The duchess gave his temper no sway. That was the way of family. “Different?” she charged. “You are correct in one manner. Grace is different from Gardenia Templeton and Alice Haverty. Lady Godown makes you laugh, Gabriel. It has been many years since I have heard you laugh. Do not throw this relationship away. Go to Grace. She shall forgive you.”

Of course, his aunt was correct, but laughter was not a prime ingredient for a successful marriage. “I have nothing for which to ask my wife’s forgiveness. On the contrary, Her Ladyship should be begging me to accept her deceit.”

The duchess snorted her contempt. “You are a fool.” She turned on her heels to leave. “When you return, I shall be elsewhere. I cannot speak for Lía or Lyn, but I shall never return to Gossling Hill unless you reconcile with your wife.”

“That scenario will only happen if Lady Godown delivers a female child. I will never turn over Godown lands to another man’s child.”

The duchess turned at the door to deliver her parting jab. “But your stubbornness will see the lands turned over to Isaac’s issue rather than your own.”

*

He had ridden out before noon with the intention of traveling to London, but Gabriel required something besides the ton’s attempts at gaiety. In truth, he required his wife’s loving touch, but he would never know Grace’s soft caress again. Nor the light in her chocolate-colored eyes. Or the silkiness of her skin.

Late in the evening, he had holed up in a cheap inn and had spent the night drinking away his sorrow. With a head full of too much brandy, he had turned his mount toward York and Marwood Manor. Gabriel had thought to visit with Lord Worthing, but he had received a note three days before Christmas from the viscount, which announced the birth of the Worthings’ daughter Amelia. The last thing Gabriel required in the mood in which he found himself was to keep company with a loving couple who knew the happiness of another child. The Worthings’ bliss was something he would never experience. Therefore, Gabriel had chosen to hide out for a few days at Baron Swenton’s estate. His friend, John Swenton, would maintain a bachelor’s household. No clinging lovebirds or adorable infants.

“Godown!” Swenton called in greeting as Gabriel was announced. “What brings you to the wilds of Yorkshire? I would have thought you would be enjoying the pleasures of Lady Godown.”

Gabriel would not explain his wife’s defection. “I had business to the north and thought perhaps you might extend your hospitality for a few days.”

Swenton’s eyebrow rose in curiosity, but his friend did not ask the obvious questions. “I would be grateful for the company.”

Over the years, John Swenton had remained the most aloof of the seven members of the Realm. People often referred to Gabriel as a fair-faced god or an avenging angel, but John Swenton was a warrior god. Not as tall as the other members of the unit, the baron was stocky and solidly built. His dark brown, nearly licorice black hair framed a square chin that spoke of the aristocracy. Swenton often assumed an honorary title he had inherited from his mother’s side of the family. A now defunct title, Swenton always said being known as “Lord Shannon” never harmed anyone, while it honored his mother. From what Gabriel knew of the former baroness, Swenton’s father would have disapproved of his son honoring a woman who had deserted her husband and child for a life on the stage. During their time on the Continent, the baron often slipped away to visit a mysterious woman. Some of their unit thought the lady to be Swenton’s mistress, but, desperately missing his own family, Gabriel always fantasized the lady was the long lost baroness.

“And I would enjoy the opportunity to hear myself think,” Gabriel confessed.

Swenton nodded his understanding. “In Yorkshire, there is plenty of space for a man and his thoughts.” The baron stood. “Permit me to have someone show you to your quarters.” He rang for a servant. Turning to Gabriel, he said, “If, however, you decide you require a good listener to assist you in your quest, I remain your obedient servant, Godown.”

Gabriel wearily struggled to his feet. The situation with Grace and a possible heir to his title had taken its toll on him. “I held no doubt to the contrary.” Gabriel offered his friend a respectful bow and followed the waiting footman from the room. He was not certain whether spending time with Swenton was the best solution. Perhaps he should abandon his friend’s hospitality and find some place where no one knew him. Instead, he had come to a familiar setting. Could he forget his worries? Gabriel seriously doubted either time or space would drive Grace’s image from his mind or his heart.

Later, that evening, he and Swenton shared an elaborate meal, obviously prepared in his honor. “Please give my compliments to your cook,” Gabriel said dutifully.

“Mrs. Flushing will appreciate your praise. I fear the dear lady tires of preparing meals for a man who regularly eats the same things.”

Gabriel nodded his understanding. “We men are creatures of habit,” he said nonchalantly.

The baron smiled knowingly. “I tell myself when I marry I will be forced to enjoy a wider variety of foods. Most women are quite adept at developing interesting menus.”

Gabriel thought of how quickly Grace had assumed those duties at Gossling Hill. “I imagine a housekeeper would support a wife’s wishes to add variety to a man’s life. Women band together to make certain males have what it best for them. A good housekeeper would likely give into a bachelor’s idiosyncrasies. At least, until the man marries.” Grace had easily won over his upper servants.

Swenton chuckled. “Perhaps that is true. It makes sense.’

Gabriel expected the baron would ask of Grace’s ability to manage a household, but his friend had returned to his meal. No questions were forthcoming. Finally, Gabriel asked, “Have you ever met a woman whose essence clings to you long after she is gone?”

Swenton smiled easily. “Once. Not too many months past.”

The news caught Gabriel by surprise. None of his friends had mentioned the baron’s interest in any particular woman. “Really? I held no idea you recently met someone you affected.”

Swenton shrugged noncommittally. “It proved to be nothing special.”

“But you thought it might lead to something promising?” Gabriel pressed.

The baron glanced away. “I held hopes, but the lady was not of the persuasion to commit herself to a lasting relationship.”

“I am grieved to hear it, John. You deserve happiness,” Gabriel said earnestly.

“As do you, Godown.” The baron paused. “Do we speak of Lady Godown?”

Gabriel closed his eyes as if to place Grace from his memory. Finally, he said, “When I looked deeply into Grace’s eyes, that first day in Scotland, I thought I could read her soul, and she could read mine. But little did I know the many dark layers of Lady Godown’s deceit.”

“Are you certain your wife offers you deception, or do you judge her by Gardenia Templeton’s schemes?”

Last evening, in his brandy-drenched mind, Gabriel had dredged up Deborah Winslow’s words regarding his relationship with Lady Gardenia. “You have kept love at a distance,” she had said. “You have permitted a venomous relationship to ruin any chance at happiness. You have given Lady Gardenia domain over your past, your present, and your future.” He swallowed hard, “I cannot seem to tell the difference,” he confessed.

Swenton leaned forward. “Crowden, I hold no idea what evil you believe Lady Godown has exacted against you, but in my limited interactions with the woman, I cannot bring myself to think ill of your lady.” The baron motioned the servants from the room. He poured both of them a deep drink. “Whatever it is that grieves your soul, you must come to terms with it or lose the one person who makes sense in your life.”

 

Chapter Twenty-One

“What shall you do?” Bel asked as she sat in Grace’s sitting room. Two days had passed, and Lord Godown had not returned. The duchess and her sisters prepared to make the short journey to Lord Hyatt’s estate for the Twelfth Night celebration. With Lord Godown’s sudden departure, Grace had declined Aunt Lyn’s invitation to join the festivities. “I cannot attend without my husband,” she had insisted. “It would be unseemly.”

The Roses had understood and had not pressed Grace to change her mind. “Under His Lordship’s instructions, I am to be removed to Devon at the week’s end.”

Lía sighed in exasperation. “What craziness has Gabriel swallowed to make him deny his own issue? I no longer understand the boy!”

“Nor tolerate him,” Aunt Lyn said with a snit.

Bel declared, “You shall not travel alone to Devon. I shall return on Thursday to accompany you to Godown’s minor estate. It is important the Gable Hill staff not see you as a disposed bride.”

Grace said with defeat, “Which is exactly what I am.”

Lía said softly, “Gabriel will soon realize the error of his ways.”

Grace stood to stare out the window. “His Lordship may change his mind, but I shall not. When I leave Gossling Hill on Friday, I shall never return. I cannot change what my husband thinks of me, and I cannot bear his disdain. It is best I have no further dealings with Lord Godown.”

Bel came to stand beside her. “Could you not explain to Godown what you shared with us? Surely if our nephew knew the full truth rather than half ones, he would accept your word and forgive you.”

Grace hugged Gabriel’s imperious aunt. “I have nothing to give His Lordship but my loyalty and my honor. My husband has thrown both into my face.” She sat heavily in a nearby chair. “I would have believed His Lordship without question. A wife owes her husband such loyalty, but likewise a man owes his wife his trust. Lord Godown chose to believe the worst of me. It is best we separate.”

“How can you so calmly accept Godown’s edict for your life?” Lyn asked.

“Because if what the duchess believes proves true, I will have the best part of Lord Godown. I will need nothing else in my life to bring me happiness.”

“But what of your sister?” Bel asked.

Grace looked away. “Lord Godown has given his word he will seek my sister, and I must believe him. Meanwhile, I have sent word to Mr. Soames of my retreat to Gable Hill. If Mercy returns to Foresthill Hall, Soames will inform my sister of my whereabouts. There is nothing left for me to do for the time being. For now, my energies must be centered on the child we suspect I carry.”

*

After four days, the pain of Grace’s betrayal had not lessened, and Gabriel had begun to question whether he had made a proper decision when he left his wife behind. It always happened as such. From the onset of their acquaintance when he was with Grace, his emotions raged. He could not have enough of her. He wanted her with him every minute of every day. Yet, all the signs said she was like all the other women with whom he had formed an alliance: fickled and self-imposing. And he was infinitely tired of farewells.

“Thinking of Lady Godown?” Swenton’s voice interrupted Gabriel’s musings. They had taken a leisurely ride across the baron’s estate.

Gabriel thought to deny his friend’s words, but he was well beyond disguising his wretchedness. “Just debating how I should proceed.”

Swenton said flatly, “Perhaps it is time to throw caution to the wind. I assure you if Lady Love ever comes my way, I will lead the woman through a merry dance.”

*

Grace had made her farewells to Lord Godown’s staff and had joined his aunts in her husband’s traveling coach. Grace’s few belongings had been sent ahead. In one way, she was infinitely grateful for the Roses’ loyalty. If only her husband had practiced half of the same resolve, then Grace would not have to leave a home she had quickly come to love. In another, Grace would have preferred to hide her shame. To have spent the journey in her personal melancholy instead of pretending an indifference to Lord Godown’s rejection.

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