M Is for Marquess (20 page)

“At our first meeting, you heard my music—heard
me
. I knew then that you were the husband I wanted. Nothing has changed,” she said.

A breath released from him. The fact that he’d been holding it fueled her optimism.

I love you, Gabriel
.
One day, I hope you’ll love me back.

“Then the matter is settled. You honor me, my sweet.” He bent over her hand. The gesture was formal, yet primal satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “Now I suggest we go in before I scandalize my future in-laws beyond repair.”

Chapter Twenty

The next three days passed like the calm before the storm. Thea was well aware of the impending danger, the preparations being made, yet even worry couldn’t erode the happiness she felt. For almost a year, she’d agonized over whether her affections were returned. Now, to know that Gabriel desired her and wanted to marry her… she could scarcely contain her joy.

Of course, there was his moratorium on love, but once she made up her mind about a thing, she stuck to it. She’d decided not to let a mere word get in the way of their future. After all, his views on the subject might change over time, and she would do everything in her power to sway him. For now, it was enough to know that they would have desire and affection, be true to one another.

Gabriel made her promise, however, not to say anything about their future as yet. He didn’t want her tied to him until the threat was over, and nothing she said could dissuade him.
There’s no need to rush
.
You’re mine and nothing is going to change that.
He’d given her his slow, heart-stopping smile.
Once I slay the dragon, then I can claim the princess.

In the interim, he’d made renewed efforts at propriety. He’d put an end to midnight visits, much to her dismay. His reasons were sound. He didn’t want to ruin her before they were even engaged. He didn’t want to dishonor his hosts and damage her family’s opinion of him before he asked for her hand. He didn’t want to scandalize Freddy, her future son.

Thea knew Gabriel was right. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t fault him for being a gentleman. The time she got to spend with him almost made up for the hiatus in the physical side of things. They were chaperoned by her sister and oft in the company of others, which prevented more intimate talks, yet allowed them to discover more about one another bit by bit. Or at least Gabriel was learning more about
her
.

His abilities as a spy became apparent as he effortlessly culled information from her. He wanted to hear stories about her family, Chudleigh Crest… if any village lad had ever tried to court her. When she admitted that a farmer’s son had once shown her interest, the possessive flare in his eyes had pleased her to no end.

When it came to his own past, Gabriel proved more reticent. She gleaned a few more details about his family; it solidified her impression that his childhood had been a cold and solitary one. Certain topics continued to remain out of bounds. He shut down whenever she tried to ask him about his marriage or his espionage days. Whenever she became frustrated with his refusal to share those experiences with her, she reminded herself that a piece wasn’t learned in a day. It would take time to excavate emotions that had been buried so deeply.

Then the day of the ambush arrived, and her fear obliterated all other concerns. Gabriel and the men left for Covent Garden before dawn. If all went well, they would catch the Spectre and put an end to the madness. Although Thea trusted in the men’s abilities, she couldn’t stem the rising tide of worry. Even playing the piano didn’t distract her; her fingers felt clumsy and wooden. She hit a jarring, discordant note.

“Do you think Papa will be all right?”

She looked up from the keyboard and saw the anxiety clouding Freddy’s blue-grey eyes. He was curled up on the nearby settee. Dr. Abernathy had paid a visit this morning and declared the boy fit as a fiddle. The good physician had imparted other advice as well, sharing a new and exciting treatment that might help the boy’s falling spells. Thea couldn’t wait to discuss it with Gabriel… when he returned.

Quelling her fear, she managed a smile. “I’m sure that your father is doing just fine. After all, he is with my brother and Mr. McLeod. They are professionals and do this sort of thing every day.”

“You mustn’t worry, Miss Thea.” Freddy’s freckled features were adorably fierce. “I will take good care of you in his absence.”

“I feel better already.” Crossing over, she ruffled the boy’s hair and sat next to him.

“Miss Thea?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Are you going to marry my papa?”

She blinked at Freddy’s grave expression. Goodness. She hadn’t been expecting that.

“Um, why do you ask?” she said, buying for time.

“Because I can tell Papa likes you. He is always looking at you,”—the boy cocked his head—“and he is in better spirits when you are around.”

Warmth unfurled. How she wanted to tell Freddy the truth: that they would soon be a family. Yet she and Gabriel had agreed to talk to the boy together after the Spectre’s capture, and she didn’t want to break her promise.

“We haven’t made any decisions about the future as yet,” she hedged. “There are too many things going on at present.”

“Well, if you were to get married, I wouldn’t mind. Actually, I think… I think I’d like having a mama again,” he said shyly.

Oh, Freddy, I’d like to be your mama. So very much.

“Would you come live with us in Hampshire?” he asked, clearly warming to the subject.

Gabriel had told her how committed he was to improving Oakhurst, his country seat, and asked if she would mind living away from London and her family. She’d responded with the truth: as long as she could visit with her siblings, she wouldn’t mind at all. She enjoyed the pace of country life and wanted to help Gabriel restore his home to its former glory. To undo the damage that the generations before him had done.

Apparently mistaking her silence for reluctance, Freddy said in a small voice, “I know it’s not the nicest estate.”

“Oh no, dear. It’s not that,” she said quickly.

“Once, when our neighbor Lord Melville came to talk to Papa about the fences between our properties, his son Horatio made fun of the manor. I overheard him laughing about. He said,
What a pile of rubble. Nothing works here,
”—Freddy’s voice wavered—“
not
even the heir.
”

Unfamiliar rage rushed through Thea. She wished Horatio Melville was here so that she could give him a sound tongue lashing and piece of her mind.

“That is utter rubbish,” she said hotly. “Only a lack wit would say such a thing.”

“Horatio is the biggest, most athletic boy in the county. He wins at everything.” Freddy’s gaze lowered to his lap. “And I can’t even leave the bedchamber.”

“You’re not in your bedchamber now,” she said.

“Who knows how long that will last?” His shoulders slumped. “When I have another fit, back to the sickroom I’ll go.”

Thea hesitated, torn between conflicting desires. On the one hand, she knew it wasn’t wise to broach the subject of a potential cure for Freddy’s seizures before talking to Gabriel… but she couldn’t sit by and say nothing whilst Freddy suffered, losing hope by the minute—not when she knew of a way to help. Dr. Abernathy’s description of the new treatment ran through her mind.

It may sound unconventional, Miss Kent
, he’d said in his Scottish burr,
but I assure you that the fasting cure has been around since antiquity. A colleague of mine in Edinburgh has recently refined the technique, and he’s reported astonishing success. My observations suggest that Master Frederick would benefit. His appetite has naturally been down since the attack on his father, and interestingly this has coincided with a reduction in his spells. If you could convince Lord Tremont to consider the treatment, I think it might benefit the young lad greatly.

Treading carefully, Thea said, “Your papa mentioned that you have tried a great many remedies for your condition. If there was yet another, one that showed some promise but had no guarantee of success, would you want to try it?”

“Does the treatment hurt?”

“No, but it isn’t easy,” she said honestly. “It involves following a strict diet—even fasting at times.”

“You mean I don’t get to eat?” His brow furrowed. “I don’t think I’d like that.”

“At the beginning, you’d only be given water, beef tea, and the like. If that helps your symptoms, different foods would gradually be introduced to your diet. You’d have to work with the physician to decide what worsens your spells or makes them better.”

Freddy’s lashes moved rapidly. “Does Papa think I should try this?”

I hope so.
Knowing how Gabriel felt about medical treatments, she prayed that he would come around—and not be upset with her for suggesting it.

“First and foremost, he’s concerned about protecting you,” she said with care. “You’ve been through a lot already, dearest, and he doesn’t want you to undergo any unnecessary hardship or disappointment. As I’ve said, the treatment might not work.”

Freddy’s shoulders straightened. “I think I would like to give it a go anyhow.” His smile was wistful. “What have I to lose, after all?”

Pride swelled in her.
He’s such a brave boy, and he doesn’t even realize it.

Smiling, she squeezed his hand. “Then we’ll talk to your father together.”

A knock sounded on the door. Jarvis entered and announced the arrival of visitors. Thea had almost forgotten that she’d sent a note to Marianne, asking her to call—and to bring Edward, if she could. Marianne glided in, a vision in a lilac promenade dress trimmed in blond lace. At her heels was her gangly, dark-haired son, who had a wooden box tucked under one arm.

“Good morning to the both of you. Thank you for coming.” Thea rose to receive Marianne’s kiss on the cheek, and Freddy stumbled to his feet as well.

“With all that is going on today, we could all use some distraction. Edward and I happened to be at loose ends.” Removing her bonnet and gloves, Marianne gave her son a little nudge. “Go ahead and introduce yourself, dear.”

Edward shuffled forward. He took after Ambrose with his unruly locks, tall, loose-limbed build, and earnest demeanor. His precociousness he’d inherited from his mother, however, and he had her vivid green eyes as well. Her fashion sense clearly had a hand in his smart outfit, which included a checkered waistcoat and trousers tucked into gleaming, boy-sized boots.

“How d’you do? Edward Kent at your service,” he said with a grave little bow.

“I’m Frederick Ridgley, Viscount Waverly. But you can call me Freddy, if you like.” The boy’s face reddened, and after an awkward pause, he blurted, “I’m eight years old.”

“You don’t
look
eight. I’m eight, and I’m much taller than you,” Edward observed.

“Manners, Edward,” Marianne admonished.

“But it’s true. Why is it impolite to speak the truth, Mama?” Edward directed a puzzled glance at her.

“Because some truths are best kept to oneself. You must consider how your words will affect others before speaking them.”

A notch formed between Edward’s brows. “You mean I should think things but sometimes not say them?”

“That’s the general idea, yes,” Marianne said wryly.

After a moment, Edward gave a brisk nod. “My apologies,” he said to Freddy, “I didn’t mean to be rude. That is, I
am
taller than you, but that doesn’t signify anything. My uncle Harry is a scientist, and he and I once performed an experiment with beans.”

“Beans?” Freddy said uncertainly.

“We grew them using the exact same amount of soil and water, yet all of the plants sprouted at different rates. Uncle Harry said the nature of the seed is just as important as the conditions in which it is grown. All the beans themselves turned out equally fine, however,”—Edward shrugged—“so in the end it doesn’t really matter which plant grows the fastest or tallest, does it?”

Freddy blinked owlishly. “Um, I suppose not.”

Thea hid a smile.

“I say, would you care for a game of Spillikins?” Abrupt changes in topic were common with her quick-witted nephew. Edward held up the box he’d brought. “I have my set.”

Freddy bit his lip. “I—I don’t know how to play.”

“It’s simple. I’ll teach you,” Edward said. “Mama, may we be excused?”

“Yes, dear. But don’t overtire your host, all right?” Marianne said.

Freddy slid a tentative glance at Thea. She gave him an encouraging nod.

The boys found a place in the far corner. Settling on the carpet, they began laying out the sticks for their game. Before long the two were chatting back and forth, emitting cheers and groans as jackstraw empires rose and fell.

Thea and Marianne watched on from the settee.

“Thank you for coming today,” Thea said in an undertone. “Freddy needed the company.”

“Edward, too. He could do with a friend his own age. He spends entirely too much time with adults and books. Experiments with beans, for God’s sake.” Marianne shuddered. “At this rate, he’ll be talking about crop rotation before he’s ten.”

“You’re a proud mama, and you know it.”

“True.” Marianne’s lips curved. “You appear to be showing some talent for the role as well.”

Fighting off a blush, Thea tried to deflect her sister-in-law’s all too astute statement. “Freddy would bring out the maternal instinct in anyone. He’s bright and charming—all he needs is the confidence to see the best in himself.”

“And you, dearest, are just the one to provide it. Things are progressing nicely with the father, I take it?”

As there was no fooling the other, she might as well be honest. “Yes, they are. But please don’t say anything yet. Gabriel and I don’t want to make any announcements until after the villain is caught.”

“I understand completely. My lips are sealed.”

“Thank you.” Thea’s fingers knotted in her lap. “How do you think the men are doing? I wish I could be there with them.”

“I know the feeling, my dear, but we’d only be a distraction. The men would worry about our safety rather than the troubles at hand.” Her sister-in-law smiled ruefully. “No, we must let them go about their business whilst we conduct our own.”