Broken Wing (9 page)

He felt it when she drifted off to sleep, her head
coming to rest against his shoulder, her body, soft and warm, pressed against his side. Shifting to make room for her, he eased his arm around her shoulders and contented himself with holding her, as the dawn made its first ascent in the eastern sky. She slumbered, a contented smile on her lips. Tracing the line of her jaw with his knuckles, not quite touching her, he bent and stole a featherlight kiss, grinning as her nose wrinkled in sleepy protest.

Hooking an arm gently under her knees, he gathered her into his arms as the house began to wake. Cradling her close against his chest, relishing the feel of her, he buried his face in her hair and carried her carefully to her room, laying her down on the big bed with a rueful grin. This wasn’t at all how he’d imagined their evening ending, when he’d first laid eyes on those rumpled sheets. He tucked the blanket around her, allowing his fingers to trail through the wisps of chestnut curls at her brow. Retreating to the balcony he closed the doors behind him. Sliding easily to the ground with the aid of the great oak, he made his way back to the stables, surprised to find himself whistling. He hadn’t known he knew how.

Gabriel met Ross at breakfast, relieved he could face him with a clean conscience. Well, somewhat at least. He didn’t suppose the earl would be delighted to know about his nighttime visit to his sister’s bedchamber. Still, the evening had ended innocently enough. Innocence—it was a new and heady flavor, and he liked it tremendously.

He spent most of the next two weeks in Jamie’s company. Lord Sidney, a distant neighbor with two boys of his own, was hosting an Oxford tutor of some renown. Jamie had been invited to attend, along with Sidney’s nephews, and Ross hoped it would help gauge his readiness for formal schooling.

Something inside Gabriel had eased since his afternoon in Ross’s study, and his night with Sarah. He joined them at meals, was a polite and amusing dinner companion, and even joined them in the music room one night, accompanying them effortlessly, on
the piano. Huntington played the guitar like a Gypsy, and Sarah coaxed unearthly delights from her violin. He was surprised at how much pleasure it gave him to join them in point and counterpoint, trading notes and rhythm into something greater than the sum of its parts. He hadn’t returned to Sarah’s room, but he thought he might, when the moon was full, to look through her telescope.

At week’s end, he accompanied Ross and Jamie to Lord Sidney’s. Accepted for what he appeared to be, a distant relative visiting from abroad, he caused a stir amongst the young ladies of the household and an inquiry from Sidney, as to his prospects. He watched with a wistful smile as Jamie joined in quick alliance with Sidney’s brood, fretting impatiently to be free of the adults and off on his own adventures. Gabriel had never known friends growing up, and it filled him with satisfaction to know things would be different for Jamie. Still … he was going to miss him.

They made some attempt at conversation on the ride back, but without Jamie’s enthusiastic chatter, they soon settled into a companionable silence. Gabriel felt unsettled leaving the boy behind. His guardianship of Jamie had been the most important thing in his life, the only important thing for the past several years. He’d built his life around protecting him. Jamie had anchored him, keeping him from drifting any farther toward self-destruction. He’d been a little dismayed at how easily the boy had said good-bye, clearly impatient
and eager to return to his new friends. Sighing, he shook his head, earning a quick glance from Ross.

“Ungrateful little bugger practically tossed us out on our ears. Couldn’t wait to be shed of us, eh?”

Both men burst into laughter and Gabriel felt a warm rush of appreciation. One had to admit that for a pompous ass, Huntington wasn’t a bad sort at all. In better spirits as they neared home, he noticed a large three-masted sloop in the harbor below. “Is that one of yours, Huntington?”

“Eh? What? Be damned! It’s that rogue, Davey, home at last! I’ll wager he’s already up at the house cozening Sarah with gifts and tales of derring-do.”

Gabriel stiffened in his saddle, causing his horse to dance and snort in protest.

“Come along, lad, you’re in for a treat,” Ross said, grinning, as he urged his horse into a gallop.

The house was awhirl with excitement, all of it centered on a large charismatic fellow holding court in the library, as the servants and Sarah crowded around him. Broad-shouldered, merry-eyed, with braided, coal black hair, he had a broken nose and a dashing scar that scored him from jaw to cheekbone. He was a wildly romantic figure. Dressed all in black, with leather boots and breeches, he looked every inch the pirate.

“Well, if it isn’t Gypsy Davey, returned from the sea, and turning my household upside down.”

“Ross!” the dark-haired giant boomed, striding across the room, and throwing his arms around him,
lifting him up off the floor.

Laughing, Huntington enthusiastically returned the other man’s embrace. “You took your time, you canny bastard! I was beginning to fear you were swinging from a rope somewhere, you old pirate!”

The man they called Gypsy Davey placed a finger against his lips and winked. “Shhh, my darling. Not in front of the children, and it’s privateer, if you please.” Turning to look at Gabriel, he grinned and bowed. “And who’s this pretty child, Huntington?”

Gabriel returned the bow, replying before Ross was able, eyes hard, voice cold and dangerous, “Why do you ask, my dear? Do you fancy a tumble?”

“Oh, ho! What’s this? Huntington, the cub has teeth!”

“Aye, that he does, Davey. That he does.” Quickly stepping next to Gabriel, Ross gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze. “I’m hoping you can teach him how to use them.”

Cocking his head to one side, Davey looked at Gabriel again, assessing him. “Well, it appears you’ve some spirit, at least. If you’ve any ability, I might consider teaching you a thing or two, to please my old friend here. What would you say to that?”

Gabriel wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, and it showed clearly in his eyes, but he wouldn’t embarrass Sarah, or Ross, by insulting a friend in their home. Remembering what Ross had said about this man, he struggled to contain the rage his careless comment,
and more to the point, his obvious interest in Sarah, had engendered. “I would say, monsieur, that I would hope to show myself most appreciative of anything you might care to teach me.”

Davey regarded him with renewed interest, a speculative gleam in his eyes. “Your name?”

“Gabriel, monsieur.”

“Ah, a fellow Frenchman, yes?
Et bien
, Gabriel, I’ll be staying on my ship for now. Make yourself available in the morning and we’ll see if you’re worth my while.” Turning to Sarah, he bowed gallantly. “Sarah, my darling, I must do my duty by your brother. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll continue my tale at supper.”

Ross and Davey retreated to the study, leaving Sarah alone with Gabriel for the first time in over two weeks. She’d been a little surprised to wake snug in her bed after the meteor shower. He must have carried her there, and the thought of it made her blush. She rather regretted she hadn’t been awake to enjoy the experience. He’d seemed hesitant, almost shy in her company since then, but that was a vast improvement over cold and surly she thought with a grin.

Something fundamental had shifted between them since their rough encounter in the hall. She’d appreciated his apology, though she’d never really feared he would harm her. His coldness and contempt were what had wounded her, and that had disappeared since his visit to her balcony. They had shared something magical that night, and it had sown the seeds of
a fragile but budding friendship. They had been careful with each other since, neither of them wanting to presume or impose.

Having acquired the habit of studying him, Sarah hadn’t missed Gabriel’s angry reaction to Davey’s careless comment. She knew, better than most, how it would have stung. It couldn’t have been easy for him to see Jamie off, either, she reflected. With a smile of sympathy, she walked over to thread her arm through his. “You mustn’t mind Davey. He’s a little wild and tends to say whatever he pleases, but he has a heart of gold and there’s no truer friend. Come, walk with me, and tell me what happened at Sidney’s. Will Jamie be happy there, do you think?”

He answered her questions as best he could, soothed by her touch. As they walked, he realized he had many questions of his own. How did this man they called Gypsy Davey fit with Sarah and her family? How had they lost Jamie in the first place, and why had it taken so long to find him? Had she really been married before? Conditioned to acceptance of whatever fate sent his way, he’d taught himself to be incurious unless a matter was likely to affect him directly. Now he was realizing there were many things he needed to know. “Who is he, Sarah? This man? What is he to your family? Everyone speaks of him.”

“Davey?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s been a part of my life for as long as I
can remember. He’s of Huguenot descent, a second cousin on my mother’s side. His family left France for Ireland when the persecutions started. His parents were killed in some futile border skirmish and he came to live with us. I remember him being great fun, and wickedly adventurous. He was like an older brother to me, but he was rather wild, always off with the Gypsies, or getting into some scrape or another. We had some grand adventures together growing up, and of course, he and Ross connected immediately.”

Gabriel snorted, “That’s a little hard to believe, mignonne.”

“Oh, but it’s true! They were closer than brothers. They still are. They used to sail and adventure together all the time, but Ross has settled somewhat since… over the past few years. I don’t know that Davey ever will. He’s disgusted with politics and religion and sick of what he’s seen done to the Irish and his own people. He’s called Gypsy Davey for his childhood adventures, and because he’s always restless and moving from place to place. He’s quite proud to call himself a man without country or religion.” She grinned. “That’s terribly convenient for a privateer and a smuggler, you know, as he feels free to take commissions where, and as, he pleases. My brother is seriously worried that he’s becoming too bold. He wasn’t joking about seeing him swing from the neck.”

Gabriel tried to picture the reserved, immaculate Lord Huntington engaged in pillage and high seas
adventure, with little success. “And he lives with you? When he’s not at sea?”

“He lives with us when he pleases. We are his family, and he is ours.”

Emboldened, he managed one more question before they were summoned to dinner. “I’ve been meaning to thank you, mademoiselle, for sharing your observatory with me. It was a night I shall never forget. I was wondering if I might visit you again, when the moon is full, to view it with your telescope.”

“Of course,” she said with a bright smile. “As I’ve told you before, you’re welcome to come whenever you wish.”

“Thank you, mademoiselle”

“Sarah, please.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

Feeling in charity with the world, he went in to dinner. Putting aside his fears for Jamie and his alarm at Sarah’s obvious admiration for her handsome cousin, he relaxed and enjoyed the good cheer, ready wit, and fine wine, enthralled as Davey regaled them with tales of battle and adventure, exotic ports, and narrow escapes on the high seas.

Plagued by a growing restlessness for several days
now, Gabriel was already waiting for Davey, idly fishing off the dock, when the sun rose the next morning. He was set to work hauling rope, pumping bilges, cleaning decks, and doing other menial labor. Davey’s motley crew greeted him with whistles and catcalls, smirking and blowing kisses. He had no difficulty ignoring them. It wasn’t his habit to concern himself with what others thought. The crew’s opinion meant nothing to him. It wasn’t Davey’s comment that had angered him last night. Under other circumstances, he might have found it amusing. But he’d made it in front of Sarah, and for better or worse, her opinion
did
matter. Somehow, it had come to matter very much.

It was midday before Davey came and tapped him on the shoulder, sending him on his way. The crew, faced with his complete and utter indifference, had long since abandoned their harassment. Muscles aching, weary and hungry, he returned to his room. Sleep still eluded him. It came to him that night, though, and so did the dreams.