ROMANCE: MAIL ORDER BRIDE: The Other Man’s Baby (A Clean Christian Historical Western) (New Adult Inspirational Pregnancy Romance) (8 page)

Agnes must have dozed because the sudden stop of the carriage startled her awake. She tried to peer through her window, but other than a few lights off in the distance, she could see nothing. “Where are we?” she whispered.

“At the small farm the strangers enquired about.” Gilbert whispered, too, as he leaned across her to squint through the window. “I see someone moving about within. I’m uncertain if we should wait until it’s dark inside the house, Or if we should go on and investigate now.”

He would be unprotected. Like Richard.  “Shouldn’t you wait for the constable? Didn’t his wife say to wait?”

“She said she would give him my message when he arrived home. Agnes, there’s no guarantee
when
he’ll get home. He could be drinking or womanizing.  It’s uncertain when he will return.”

Wanting to ensure Richard’s safety won out against her fears. Even as gentle as he was, Gilbert had always stood up against any who hurt her.  She grabbed his hands. “Okay, go if you must. But please be safe.”
I’ve only just found you again.

He smiled. “Dear Agnes, you were always a worrier. Lionel and I are armed. I learned to shoot during the war. We’ll be fine. I need you to climb into the front of the carriage. Be prepared to drive away if things don’t go as planned. Can you do that for me, Agnes?”

If things don’t go as planned. If someone dies. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Oh Richard, please be safe. As Gilbert climbed down from the carriage, she added silently, Please, Gilbert, be safe, too.

On the seat behind the horses, the night air was cold even with a thick cape wrapped around her shoulders and a blanket draped over her lap. The men had disappeared into the darkness at least thirty minutes ago, and she could see nothing. Shivers racked her shoulders and back, and goose bumps jumped up and down her arms.

Night sounds settled around her, crickets chirping, small animals rustling in the bushes and trees that lined the road. Somewhere behind her, the River Adam burbled gently, almost reassuringly. No sounds from the direction of the lights. She rubbed her arms briskly. It was nights such as these that could change a person’s life forever. In her youth, she had thought the night Richard was conceived was the longest night ever. She felt certain this one would rival it.

What was that? She sat very still and strained to hear. Footsteps coming from the direction of the lights. She held herself stiffly. The footsteps grew closer and with them, a whispered conversation.  Her heart pounded in her chest. Was it Gilbert? Or the kidnappers?  Her hands hesitated as they reached for the reins. What was she to do?

“Duchess, we have found them. We have them.”

“Oh,” she cried and climbed down. She stood in the dark, all but blind, until she finally made out first one form and then the next and the next moving toward her.

“Oh, Richard!” She hurried forward and took him from Gilbert’s arms.

“What’s wrong, Mama? Why am I here? Why did I not know my Uncle Gilbert was coming to call?”

Agnes clung to him and rocked back and forth as he chattered, his voice happy, none the worse for wear.  “There was a cat and three kittens in the house.”

“We should hurry,” whispered Nurse, out of breath, “just in case.”

“Indeed, you are correct. Richard, my boy, you climb in first.”

Bundled into the carriage, Nurse and Gilbert shared the seat across from Agnes and Richard.

“Whatever happened, Nurse? I don’t understand.” Agnes implored, hugging her son close. His chattering had quieted, signaling he was growing tired.

“Oh, Duchess, you would not believe it. Two men, big and smelly, burst into the nursery and grabbed me from behind, stuffing a rag into my mouth. I could do nothing except follow their orders and keep young Richard safe.”

“Thank you, Nurse, Thank you, I am eternally grateful to you for taking such good care of him.” She turned to Gilbert, “What happened inside?”

Gilbert cleared his throat. “Only one man remained. The other had left for supplies. Lionel tackled the man and tied him up, making the rescue simple. We left him tied and gagged.”

“Oh.” The trembling began again, but this time, it was born from happiness. She gently laid Richard’s head in her lap as he had begun to slump against her. “I’m so happy.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she caressed the precious curls. “I cannot thank either of you enough. “ She looked at Gilbert. “What would I have done had you not arrived tonight? My boy could have been lost forever—“

“Don’t say that, Agnes. Had it not been me, it would have been someone else to save him. What did you  tell me--all things for a purpose?”

“And what purpose does this serve?” Her question met with silence.

#

Once Agnes had followed Richard and Nurse to sleep, Gilbert alerted Lionel, and he turned the carriage around, heading away from the Manor and the village of Richmond as quickly as they could go.

The horses’ hooves pounded the ground, echoing through the valleys in the dark silent night. His head pounded alongside, a torturous headache, as he contemplated their next step.

He
had
actually spoken with the constable of Richmond, revealed all the information he’d gathered, the irregularities, the people to interview, the Duke’s comings and goings based on his conversations with Lionel. Now he needed to wait someplace safe while the authorities completed their jobs. Someplace safe for Agnes and Richard. If she would trust him. She would not like the place he had chosen.

Richard
had
trusted him. The boy allowed him to sweep him into his arms and carry him from the house after Lionel tackle and restrain the kidnapper.

He had smiled confidently when Gilbert introduced himself. “So you’re my Uncle Gilbert. Mama says I probably know more of your secrets than you can remember.”

What did he mean by that? “How would you know those?” He had asked.

“Mama’s adventures with you and sometimes Sara are my favorite stories to hear before bed. I have them memorized.” He smiled proudly.

Gilbert had smiled and tapped his nephew on the chest lightly. “Then you will certainly have to tell them to me, since your mother seems to think I’m too old to remember them.” And he had promptly leaned forward as if he used a cane and limped across the floor.”

Richard had rolled with laughter, but sobered suddenly. “Mama will be worried. You will take me to her, yes?”

“Yes, I will.”

On his voyage across the ocean, he had often thought of Phillip’s son and how he would feel about him. The thought had been worrisome because he didn’t want to dislike a child due to his parentage.

But upon meeting Richard, Gilbert saw he was so much his mother’s son that he felt he knew him instantly. Love had stirred in his chest with that recognition.

“Where are we? Agnes whispered.

Gilbert jumped slightly. He flattened his lips between his teeth. Why couldn’t she have slept at least another hour? Truth time.

No, partial truth time.  “About an hour or so from Shendon—“

“Shendon? Why? That’s three hours from the manor, at least.”

Gilbert reached across the short distance that separated them to take one of his hands in hers. “I know going home is hard, but I need you to trust me.”

She whispered, “It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of my son was kidnapped and we don’t know why. It’s a matter of I’m a Duchess now and I have to be mindful of that.” She sighed deeply. “I have to be mindful of everything. And it’s a matter of Phillip. He’s my husband, and if he arrives home and I am not there...” She touched her face, probably not even realizing it and he shut his eyes briefly to remove the image of her bruises. “If I’m not there, he’ll be unhappy with me.”

He needed to reveal more of the truth. “I told you about the suspicions my uncle’s valet had? I’m not just now arriving in England. I’ve been here the better part of the month, traveling from one place to the next investigating his suspicions. I believe my brother guilty of the murder of my uncle, but possible more—“

“More? Are you certain?”

“Very much so.”

Agnes rubbed her arms. “Is that why Richard was kidnapped? Because of what Phillip did?”

Not that question. Why had he not expected that one? “I don’t know,” was all he could think to say.

“That’s why you’ve wanted me to trust you? Where are you taking us in Shendon?”

He couldn’t’ tell her that, not yet. “Someplace safe. Someplace where I can leave you briefly while I check on matters again.”

“Pray, give me time to think. I must be mindful. If no one believes your accusations, I still must live with the Duke.” She drew her hand away, but patted his gently before withdrawing completely.

With no choice, he pulled away, his hands feeling suddenly cold, and leaned back against his seat. Now he would wait. The sun would break over the horizon in another hour. Richard and Nurse would likely awaken. Dare he say more? Dare he give speech to the dreams that swelled in his heart each time he touched her? No.  She had asked for time; he would give her that.

Dawn broke. A glorious dawn, pink and orange layering upward into the gray blue sky. The light seemed to dull the pounding of the hooves and the rolling of the carriage wheels. Agnes gave up all pretense of looking out the window and watched Gilbert’s face as it gradually become clearer as the world brightened. He had returned her gaze, his warm eyes behind his spectacles caressing her. His look was too familiar, too warm, but she could no more look away from it than she could make the sun not rise.

“I will trust you,” she whispered an instant before Richard lifted his head.

He looked about him,  disoriented for only an instant, before his face cleared and he declared, “Our adventure hasn’t ended!”

Agnes chuckled. When Gilbert echoed her laughter, she looked over in surprise. He appreciated Richard as she did.  Her gaze met his and the connection was so strong, her laughter died away and she could hardly breathe.

“I’m hungry, Mama. Where are we? When are we stopping?” Richard’s face was pressed against the window, his voice slightly muffled, but his excitement clear.

“I recognize this area. We’re not long outside of a village called Vienna. There’s a bridge we’ll be crossing soon. We can stop right after and refresh ourselves and the horses by the river. “

“Why is it named Vienna?”

Agnes smiled as Gilbert answered her son’s question which turned into another question and then another. The two complemented each other quite well. Richard required a great deal of patience due to his enthusiasm and interest in everything. Gilbert never lacked patience.

Once they had refreshed themselves by the stream, Lionel and nurse returned to the carriage, the latter to rest after her harrowing journey of the night before. She wasn’t as young as when she had cared for Agnes, and Agnes worried over her as she would her own mother.

They settled in the grass beside the river. The sun had warmed the night air, so her cape was more than enough to keep her warm. Richard, however, had shed his coat to run through the field of purple wildflowers. Gilbert ran after him, pretending not to run fast enough, until with a growl, he scooped him into his arms and fell to the ground, tickling him.

Richard squealed with laughter each time, the game never growing old. When had she felt happier? Perhaps never, even with everything against her right now, even with the bittersweet knowledge that this could be the first and last time the two males she loved best would play together. When she closed her eyes in her later years, she felt certain it was this picture--the feel of the sun, the smell of river water and deep purple flowers, and the taste of pure joy--that would sustain her.

They played like that for an hour or longer, strengthened only by the dry bread and pieces of cheese she had packed the night before, and palmfuls of cold river water. Gilbert was the first to collapse in the soft grass beside her. He removed his glasses and wiped his face with a handkerchief. They shared a smile before he leaned back, resting his upper body on his elbows, watching Richard as he tried to sneak up on a squirrel.

“He’s a great boy.”

She was glad he recognized it. “Yes he certainly is.”

He turned to her, his face somber. “I wish he was mine.”

Her heart shuddered and tears burned in the corners of her eyes. She released a broken sigh. “He is,” she whispered.

Shock, joy, anger, all warred across his face. He opened his mouth, but first only a trembling breath escaped. “Mine, Agnes? Mine?”

She dare not touch him. Nurse and Lionel were too close by. She hoped her eyes conveyed the emotions raging in her heart. “Father had already arranged my marriage with Phillip without my consent. You had asked me to marry you. We had… consummated our love. Surely you knew there could be consequences. Once Father made his decision, no amount of pleading on my part would deter him.”

“Mine,” Gilbert breathed. He looked as stunned as she likely had yesterday evening upon seeing him again.

“Yes, yours. Phillip knew and Father knew.  Phillip was glad. Mumps when he was young made it nearly impossible that he will father a child. And my state allowed him to insist upon a greater dowry. My uncle complied, only to save my younger sisters the tragedy of a scandal.”

He sat up, his spine rigid. “You should have told me.” His hard voice trembled

“How? How could I have done that?”

He stood, paced in front of her, his hands pulling through his hair. “I don’t know!  I don’t know anything right now.”

She stood, too, but had to force herself not to reach for him. His heart was breaking, she could see it on his face. Her stoic Gilbert was stoic no more. A part of her, the larger part, was glad he knew the truth. But the other part was very, very scared about what the next hour, day, week, and month held for them. Would Gilbert be able to release her to Phillip now that he knew the truth?

#

He paced the grass, trying to wrestle his emotions into submission. This did not happen to him, this overwhelming-need-to-hurt-someone did not happen to him. He saved lives, he did not take them. At the moment though all he wanted was his brother’s neck between his hands so he could squeeze the life from him, so he could batter and bruise his face as he had Agnes.

A son. He studied the boy. He hid behind a crumbling stone wall. His patience was amazingly like his own, but his enthusiasm was entirely his mother’s. This child that their love had created. How could God be so cruel? To have taken Agnes and kept Richard from him? Could He be cruel enough to snatch them from him a second time?

And just like that, his plans changed. No, he wouldn’t let that happen. Protecting Agnes and Richard was paramount before, and now even more so. He no longer cared about getting Phillip tried and convicted for murder.  His world had shrunk to the size of a small field of flowers with the sun and the moon being Agnes and Richard. He would stop at nothing to not just protect them, but to keep them.