Yours Until Dawn (23 page)

My darling Cecily,

You call me both persistent and persuasive yet you resist my charms at every turn…

G
abriel sat just inside the door of the folly, listening to the brook gurgle its way over the rocks. The roofless structure had been constructed to resemble the crumbling turret of some ancient castle. As a lad, he had spent many thrilling hours waving a wooden sword to rescue it from barbarian hordes who bore a marked resemblance to his baby sisters.

He sat on a stone bench with his back to the wall, his long legs sprawled in front of him. The night breeze ruffled his hair. It had fallen half out of its leather queue, veiling the jagged evidence of his scar. He bore other signs of the day’s misadventures as well. His boots were scuffed, the sleeve of his shirt shredded by brambles. There was a fresh scrape on the back of his hand and a painful knot on his knee.

But the deepest wound he bore had been done to his heart when he had overheard the exchange between his mother and Samantha.

After wandering aimlessly in the woods for hours, using a branch as a makeshift walking stick, he had finally blundered his way back to the house. Thinking to slip in undetected, he had felt his way around the walls until he found an open window. But his plans were thwarted when his mother’s voice came drifting through that window.

…it would have been a blessing if my son had died on the deck of that ship. A blessing for his life to have ended cleanly and quickly. Then he wouldn’t have had to go on suffering. He wouldn’t have to go on living this—this miserable half-life as half a man!

Gabriel had slumped against the wall, shaking his head. His mother’s words did not possess the power to wound him. They only confirmed what he had long suspected.

And how convenient that would have been for you!

He was turning away from the window when Samantha’s voice rang out, freezing him in his tracks. He cocked his head to the side, seduced by both the fury and the passion of her words. He would have given almost anything to see his mother’s face in that moment. He doubted that anyone had ever dared speak to Clarissa Fair-child, the marchioness of Thornwood, with such unrepentant cheek.

It’s because he knows
exactly
what you’re all thinking every time you look at him. Your son may be blind, my lady, but he’s not stupid.

When Samantha was done, it was all he could do not to step into that room and shout,
Bravo!
while giving her a hearty round of applause.

“That’s my girl,” he had whispered, realizing with his next breath that it was true.

That was the blow that had left his heart reeling. The blow that had sent him staggering away from the house to seek refuge in the cool seclusion of the folly.

Gabriel turned his face toward a sky he could not see, the merry babbling of the brook mocking him. It seemed he had squandered most of his youth worshiping at the altar of beauty, only to fall in love with a woman he had never seen.

He didn’t even care what Samantha looked like, he realized with a shock. Her beauty had nothing to do with creamy skin, a dimpled cheek, or long, luxuriant hair the color of warm honey. She might be as homely as a troll, but she would still be irresistible to him. Her beauty radiated from within—from her intelligence, her passion, her stubborn insistence on making him a better man than he ever believed he could be.

He was no longer willing to settle for anything less. Even his beloved Cecily had turned out to be nothing more than a beautiful dream that had faded in the harsh light of dawn. He might not be able to see her, but he knew in his heart that Samantha would be there every time he reached for her.

Gabriel fumbled for his makeshift walking stick. He might as well return to the house and take his scolding. Samantha would no doubt consider his eavesdropping to be the very height of ill manners. But perhaps it would soften her temper when he confessed that he adored her more than life itself. As he rose, a grin touched his lips. He wished he could see his mother’s face when he informed her that he had every intention of marrying his nurse.

Gabriel was halfway to the house when he heard a familiar barking coming from the direction of the woods.

“What in the devil—?” he managed to get out before something small and sturdy came barreling into his legs, nearly knocking him over.

Not even Sam’s clumsy exuberance could spoil Gabriel’s good humor. “You’re going to be the death of me one of these days,” he chided, using the branch to steady himself.

As he continued toward the house, he could hear the dog dancing in circles around him, barking frantically and making every step a potential hazard. “What are you trying to do, Sam? Wake the dead?”

In reply, the dog grabbed the end of the branch, nearly yanking it out of Gabriel’s grip. Although Gabriel tugged back, the dog was not to be dissuaded. He sank his teeth deep into the wood, growling low in his throat.

With an exasperated oath, Gabriel knelt in the dew-soaked grass. Instead of leaping into his arms as he expected, the collie caught Gabriel’s already mangled sleeve between his teeth and began to tug at it, alternating between growling and whimpering.

“For God’s sake, what is it?” Gabriel tried to gather the dog in his arms, but Sam fought to escape him, quivering and bucking like some sort of wild thing.

Gabriel frowned. The little collie hated to be outside after dark. By this time of night, he was usually curled up on Gabriel’s pillow, snoring contentedly. Why would he suddenly choose to brave the woods all alone after dark?

He wouldn’t
.

That still, small voice in Gabriel’s head contained the ring of absolute truth. Sam would only brave the woods by night if he were accompanying someone. Someone who might be out looking for Gabriel. Someone like Samantha.

Ignoring his frantic wriggling, Gabriel sniffed at the dog’s fur. Sure enough, the unmistakable fragrance of lemon verbena clung to his silky coat. But its crisp sweetness was nearly eclipsed by another odor, bitter and dark.

Smoke
.

Gabriel stood abruptly, sniffing at the air. Anyone else might have attributed the hint of ash in the air to a wisp of wood smoke curling its way up a chimney. But it flooded Gabriel’s lungs like a dark mist of dread.

The dog slipped from his arms. Still barking frantically, Sam raced a few feet toward the woods, then darted back to Gabriel’s feet, as if urging him to follow.

Gabriel stood there, torn between the house and the woods. He needed help, but Samantha needed him, and there was no way of knowing how much time he had lost trying to interpret the dog’s signals.

He finally turned in what he hoped was the direction of the house and bellowed, “
Fire! Fire!!!
” at the top of his lungs. He would have almost sworn he heard a door opening and a startled female voice, but he didn’t have time to linger and make sure.

“Take me to her, Sam!
Go
!” he commanded, following the sound of the dog’s frantic yips.

Needing no other encouragement, Sam took off into the woods. Gabriel went crashing after him, swinging his branch like a sword.

Ignoring the bite of the brambles and the sting of the branches slapping at his face, Gabriel charged through the woods like some sort of wild beast. He fell more than once, stumbling over rotting tree trunks and exposed roots. But he dragged himself to his feet and kept going, stopping every few paces to listen for Sam’s ringing bark.

If he lagged too far behind, the dog would come bounding back to his side, as if to make sure he was still following. With each step Gabriel took, the smell of smoke grew stronger.

After a grueling plunge through the underbrush, he stumbled to a halt in some sort of clearing. He cocked his head to listen, hearing nothing but the peaceful night sounds of the forest. Fighting panic, he concentrated harder, finally catching Sam’s bark—distant, but still audible. Gabriel took off in that direction, hell-bent on reaching Samantha before the dog had to retrace his steps again.

The smoke was no longer a smell, but a palpable presence, thick and choking. As Gabriel rushed blindly through it, his branch struck something immovable, snapping in two. He hurled it away. Clawing back a curtain of ivy, he flattened one palm against the rough-hewn surface. The stone wall was hot enough to make him snatch back his hand.

He must have arrived at the old stable at the very edge of the Fairchild property. The structure had been abandoned long before he was born.

“Samantha!” he shouted, feeling frantically for some sort of opening.

Sam was barking wildly now, near hysteria. Gabriel followed the sound to an open door. The dog rushed inside the stable and Gabriel knew he had no choice but to follow. He couldn’t afford to wait for someone from the house to find them. He was Samantha’s only hope.

Taking a deep breath, he dashed after the dog. He could hear the crackling flames licking at the ancient timber beams above him. The roiling smoke curled deep into his lungs, seeking to crowd out all of the air.

“
Samantha!
” he shouted hoarsely, praying that she could still hear him.

He had taken only a few steps when he heard a loud crack. Before he could throw up a hand, something heavy struck him sharply on the temple.

Gabriel began to fall in the barn, but when he landed, he was back on the heaving deck of the
Victory
with shrapnel whistling overhead and the acrid stench of cannon fire singeing his nostrils. Blood trickled down his face, into his eyes and mouth, and when he lifted his aching head, he saw Nelson crumpling to the deck in slow motion, his face a mask of bewilderment.

Gabriel’s hands clenched into fists. Nelson had died on his watch. Samantha would not.

Summoning every last ounce of his will, he staggered to his feet, throwing a hand up to shield his face from the burning embers raining down from the loft. Sam’s bark had shifted to a high-pitched whimpering that sounded almost eerily human.

Half lunging, half crawling, Gabriel fought his way across the floor to the sound. Something crunched beneath his boot. When he reached down and felt the twisted frames of Samantha’s spectacles, his heart nearly stopped.

But then his searching hands closed over something warm and soft. He drew Samantha’s limp body up and into his arms, shuddering with relief when he felt the whisper of her breath against his face.

“Hold on, angel,” he whispered, pressing a fervent kiss to her brow. “Just hold on to me and everything will be all right.”

Carrying her like a child, he went lunging back toward the direction he had come, trusting that Sam would follow. As he stumbled out of the door, the stable collapsed behind them in a roaring inferno, the blast of heat nearly knocking Gabriel off his feet.

He didn’t slow his long strides until they were well away from the choking cloud of smoke and ash. As Samantha sucked in her first breath of the crisp night air, she began to cough—a hoarse, agonizing sound torn from deep in her chest. Dropping to his knees in a bed of damp leaves, Gabriel cradled her across his lap. Her cheek was warm beneath his hand, but there was no way for him to determine its color. Dying a little with each of her tortured breaths, he waited for the bitter spasm to pass.

Something cold and wet nudged his arm. Gabriel’s seeking hand closed in Sam’s fur. He gently kneaded the collie’s body, trying to soothe its violent trembling. “You’re the best dog in the world, Sam,” he said, his own teeth chattering with reaction. “As soon as we get back to the house, I’m giving you every last one of my boots. Hell, I’ll even buy you your own pair if you want.”

When Samantha’s eyes fluttered open, she found Gabriel hovering over her, his face taut with worry. Even scarred and streaked with soot, it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

“I saw you,” she croaked, reaching up to tenderly swipe a smudge of soot from his cheek. “Smiling down at me in the sunlight right before everything went dark.”

He tried to smile then, but some other emotion contorted his mouth. He buried his face in her hair, holding her as if he’d never let her go. Samantha moaned softly at how right it felt to be in his arms again.

“Are you hurt?” He lowered her back to his lap, frantically running his hands over her arms and legs. “Did you break anything? Are you burned anywhere?”

“Don’t think so.” She shook her head, then winced as the motion sent a stabbing pain shooting down her neck. “But my head aches.”

“Mine, too,” he admitted with a rueful laugh.

For the first time, Samantha noticed the bloody gash on his left temple. “Oh!” she rasped, hot tears filling her eyes as she realized how close she had come to losing him. “Looking for you. Bats st-startled me. Dropped the lamp. My fault.”

His eyes sparkled down at her from the dappled shadows. “I suppose we’ll just have to take the cost of the stable out of your wages, then, won’t we? It’ll probably take you several years of service to pay off your debt to me.”

“How did you find me?” she asked, both her breath and her words beginning to come easier.