To Wager the Marquis of Wolverstone (14 page)

Alfredo
. A cold, cold chill slid
through Marcus’s veins, engulfing his chest. He stood looking down
at a face he’d seen before. The hands of betrayal gripped and
squeezed his newly blossoming heart, the tentacles of its barbed
vines smothering his new hope.

But somehow this new found hope in his heart
fought back; a gong clanged in his brain that said
no, this is
not right
. But yet the proof was standing here before him. Ten
years ago Sabine must have taken Gower as a lover, for there was no
doubt that the child before him was of Gower’s bloodline. The
resemblance was uncanny.

Alfredo’s smile slipped away and he took a
step back in alarm at Marcus’s thunderous expression.

“Alfredo, come here at once.” A woman about
the same age as Sabine hurried to Alfredo’s side and took his hand.
Her mouth firmed when she noted Marcus standing there, transfixed
at the sight of the boy. “Go up to your room, there’s a good boy.
It’s bath time. I’ll be up shortly.”

Alfredo took one look at Marcus’s face and
fled.

This prim and proper servant sparked yet
another memory from deep within Marcus. “I remember you. You were
in the Fournier household.”

Her expression remained grave. “Yes, my
Lord. I was one of their maids.”

“You went with Sabine when she married?”

“Yes, I’m Claudette, her lady in waiting. I
also serve as nanny to Alfredo.”

At the mention of the boy’s name, Marcus’s
eyes momentarily closed.

“You will not tell the world who her son’s
father truly is.” It was a command, not a question, and it was
issued with contempt. Her antipathy was clear in her stance and
from the flash within her dark eyes.

“I have no wish to tattle about Lady
Orsini’s affairs.”

A heavy silence ensued.

Then Claudette’s eyes widened in
comprehension. “You think she
willingly
lay with that
despicable man, don’t you?” Her voice was incredulous. “Men! You
are, par”- she spat and prodded him with her finger, overcome with
anger. “How
can
you think she would do that when you were
her world?”

A sound like an animal in pain escaped his
mouth.
Oh, God
. Horror gripped him and almost forced him to
his knees. He used his hand to brace himself against the hallway
wall. He looked into Claudette’s face and saw the truth as plain as
the new day. Bitter bile rose in his mouth. As understanding dawned
over him he hastily covered his mouth; the urge to vomit was
strong.

With sudden brutal clarity, he remembered
Sabine’s words from the first night in Lady Somerset’s bedchamber.
I have only ever willingly slept with my husband.
He’d not
understood the nuance behind her words until now.

He raised his anguished eyes to Claudette.
“Why? Why, in God’s name, was I not told?”

“It was to protect you, of course, My Lord.
She knew what you would do. Back then Gower was a champion
swordsman. You, you… were not so good.”

Brutal fury engulfed him. It pressed outward
until he thought he’d explode. “She
should
have told me.”
The wrenching grief in him threatened to suffocate him. Ten years;
they’d wasted
ten precious years.
For ten long years he’d
hated her and loved her equally. Back then, he should have tried
harder to see her. He had known, deep down inside, that his Sabine
could not have played him false, but he had let his overweening
male pride get in the way.

He felt a tear slide silently down his
cheek.

Claudette cupped his chin and appealed to
him. “She has gone again, to deal with that devil, because of her
love for you and her child. Will you help her this time?”

“What… what are you talking about? Gower is
ruined. She holds his vowels….”

He watched her raise an eyebrow.

A stark foreboding gripped him. “
He’s
threatened her, hasn’t he?
”

Claudette nodded. “Gower threatened to tell
you the truth if she didn’t sign the vowels over to him. He also
threatened to make Alfredo disappear.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. She was trying to
protect him again and he’d… he’d simply let her walk away.

“How long ago did she leave the house?”

“Too long, my Lord.”

That was all Marcus needed to hear. He ran
for the front door. Luckily, Henry’s house was across the road.
He’d need Henry’s help to get into Gower’s residence.

He had to get to her. He would save her this
time. And when he got his hands on Gower….A black fury hazed his
vision at the thought. His hands would not leave Gower’s body until
he was dead.

Sabine took a hackney to Gower’s residence
in Holborn. She could guess what he used this house for, and the
type of women he brought here as it was in the seedier part of
London.

She made the driver take her around the
block for almost an hour before she summoned up the courage to face
Gower. She listened to the horses clip clopping along the
cobblestones, willing herself to find another way out of this mess.
If not for her time with Marcus and her revenge for her parents
deaths, she’d wish she’d never set foot on English soil again.

Realizing she’d run out of time, she
signaled for the driver to stop. She alighted at the corner, five
houses down from where her enemy lay curled up like a snake, ready
to strike and fill her with his poison. Already she could feel fear
clouding her brain and she needed to pause and think. Somehow she
had to prevent Gower from touching her. She wasn’t sure she’d be
strong enough to survive him a second time.

As she forced her sluggish brain to think
past the horrors of what Gower would be likely to do to her, she
patted the small pistol that lay comfortingly in her pocket. In
addition, it had been Claudette’s idea to wear trousers under her
skirt. She would not make it easy for Gower this time. This time
she’d fight back. She wasn’t a scared naive girl of eighteen
anymore.

Gower had seen to that.

Perhaps if she fought back hard enough, she
would find an opportunity to escape. She and Alfredo were booked on
the schooner heading for Rome, first thing tomorrow morning. Surely
she could avoid Gower’s retribution until then. He would have the
vowels and they were all he really wanted.

Sabine stood at the bottom of the steps
leading to Gower’s bright red front door and knew her time was up.
Taking a deep breath she began slowly and resignedly walking to
meet her fate.

Gower must have been watching for her,
because she had only just raised her hand to the door knock, when
it swung open and he pulled her inside slamming the door ominously
behind her.

Needles of panic drove deep into Marcus’s
chest as he stood waiting for Henry to get his pistols and sword.
The thought of Gower’s hands on Sabine filled him with wild
fear.

Henry arrived back in the entrance hall grim
faced. “I’m ashamed to face her after how I have behaved when she
sacrificed herself for you. She was so young, only eighteen and
that bastard… I’ll kill him; after you’ve finished with him, of
course.”

He clapped Henry on the back. “
You
owe her an apology? What do you think I owe her?” The fear that
tore through Marcus was entangled with fury and fierce
self-recrimination.

Their carriage raced across town. Thank God
Claudette knew where Sabine had gone. However both men knew of
Gower’s second residence in Holborn anyway. The thought of Sabine
in that house made his insides recoil.

They too parked the carriage at the entrance
of the street and in the dimming light, made their way toward the
rear of the property.

Marcus asked, “Do you think he’ll have the
house guarded.”

“I doubt it.” Henry added dryly. “He knows
Sabine would never risk her son’s life by doing anything foolish,
or your life for that matter.” Under his breath, but still loud
enough for Marcus to hear, his friend said, “What an amazing
woman.”

Marcus growled. “Infuriating woman, she
should have come to me.” Inside his heart swelled with an all
consuming love, coupled with pride. She was indeed a very special
woman. “Let’s use the servants’ entrance. He won’t want any
witnesses and has likely sent them away for the evening.”

Gower pushed Sabine ahead of him up the
stairs to a room that could only be described as part drawing room,
part bedchamber.

Shadows flickered eerily across the walls
from the small number of lighted candles. The fire had burned low.
There was a bottle of wine and two glasses sitting on a small table
along with a plate of breads and meats.

It almost looked like a scene set for
seduction. However, Sabine knew from past experience that Gower
didn’t seduce—he took.

He raped.

Her mouth grew dry as she stepped into the
room with Gower at her back. She quickly crossed the room to stand
by the fire, only to be disappointed that the poker iron was not
sitting in its cradle.

Gower noticed and laughed. “You didn’t think
I’d leave a handy weapon around for your use did you?” He closed
the door softly behind him. “Come, sit. I promise I won’t pounce on
you.” His smile widened to a grotesque grin. “After all, you are
here to do my bidding.” The smile died and the face of the devil
was revealed. “You don’t want me to have to hurt those you love do
you? Alfredo. Such a handsome boy, so like his father.”

“You are a monster. You’d hurt your own
son.”

“Be careful, my fiery French beauty. What
would happen to the Orsini riches if that fact became known?
There’d be forfeit to the church. Under Italian law, the Pope has
claim on any noble wealth when there are no heirs. Hence we know
why Roberto Orsini was so desperate to marry a lady already with
child. He wanted to ensure the church got nothing from him.

As soon as you arrived back in London, I
spotted the boy by chance in the park. I’m surprised his nanny
didn’t tell you. I found it rather amusing. She too understood who
I was as soon as she saw me. She looked as if she’d like to knife
me through the heart. I discovered that if the Pope learns of your
deception, you and the boy would be in the poorhouse just like your
parents.”

Sabine swallowed her rage. She needed a calm
head in order to deal to her enemy.

He walked slowly toward her. “You need me to
keep quiet and for me to ignore my own son. Well, given how
terrible it is for me to be unable to acknowledge him, you’ll have
to pay a price for that.” He paused for added effect, “And you will
continue to pay until I am satisfied. Why should a father not
profit from his son’s good fortune?”

“You’re no father. You’re not even a man.
The only way a woman comes to your bed is by force or because of
money.”

His hand shot out and gripped her tightly by
the throat. “Tut. I was going to be nice.” His face moved closer,
his lips in a cruel snarl. “I was going to let you have a few
drinks to warm that frigid body of yours, but perhaps I’ll simply
take you like I did ten years ago. Hmmm… would you like that?” He
kissed her hard on the mouth and she bit his lip so hard it drew
blood.

The hand choking her throat disappeared and
he stepped back in order to put more force into his backhanded
slap. She saw stars and felt the blood trickle from the corner of
her mouth. “Bitch.” Then he gave a smile that would freeze hell. “I
do love it when my women play rough. But before I rip that God
awful spinsterish gown from your delectable body, give me the
vowels.”

Sabine was angry with herself for not being
able to keep her hands from shaking as she fumbled for the papers.
This was going to be far worse than that night long ago when Gower
raped her in her parents’ garden. At least it had been dark and she
couldn’t see him as he had rutted her from behind.

She clenched her fists and told herself to
bide her time. Gower would pay. She knew it was wrong, and God help
her for it, but she desperately wanted him dead.

She carefully drew the papers out of her
pocket, the touch of her small pistol giving her strength. He
grabbed for the bundle and tore the ribbon off them. His eyes began
to scan through all the documents.

“They are all there, as I’m sure you knew
they would be. I would have one favor from
you
.” At her
words, his gaze flew back to her. “Tell me, how did you know I’d be
in the garden that night?”

Before answering, he walked over to the fire
and began to throw each individual piece of paper into the flames
and watch them burn.

“It was easy. I saw you one day walking in
the park with Judith, the now widowed Lady Harcourt. The two of
you, beautiful young ladies, made quite the picture. What a vision
you were with your fair hair and rosy cheeks. Imagine my surprise
when I saw Lord Wolverstone stop to say hello. But it wasn’t
Judith’s hand he lingered over, it was yours.”

“He visited your parent’s garden often. I
assumed he was grooming you to be his mistress. It was
inconceivable that you could become the wife of a Marquis.” He
shrugged his shoulders. “Imagine my surprise when I found you to be
a virgin.”

She gritted her teeth. “How did you know to
send me the note?”

“I followed Marcus. Over the course of a few
weeks, I followed him and spied on you both when you met in your
parents’ garden. So eager you were in his arms. And I didn’t send
you the note, he did.”

Sabine’s blood ran cold. Marcus was in on
this. She shook her head;
no
, it couldn’t be.

The last of the vowels disappeared into the
flames and he turned his cold eyes on her. “I waited for a note to
be sent, and I ensured that Marcus would be unable to make the
rendezvous. I then came in his place. You should have seen your
face when you realized I wasn’t Marcus.”

He walked toward her and ran a finger down
her face. “I never forgot your choked screams as my hand covered
your mouth. Nor your tight, virginal body.”