Madness (30 page)

But Oxnard had put her in this state of madness, she was sure of it, and could not be trusted to look after her welfare or a helpless infant

Simon too was like a helpless infant in many ways, with no one to care for him except her. And what would happen if he were ever declared sane again? Could they then bring up the charges against him? Make him stand trial for his supposed crimes?

She knew someone could not be tried for the same crime twice, but Antony had simply said his powerful family and friends had covered it all up.

She didn’t believe the story for a moment-it was a fabrication by the people who had imprisoned him and kept him drugged.

But the danger was very real, for all she tried to be optimistic. If they could treat him like this, what else could they do to Simon whenever it suited them?

Gabrielle found out soon enough what Simon's enemies were capable of about fifteen days after she had first dressed as a strumpet and arrived in his cell.

Simon was doing much better, and was now coherent and lucid, and in a good mood most of the time.

He would occasionally have an hallucination, a near-seizure, or become despondent, but on the whole, they basked in each other’s love and tenderness, and had made a paradise on earth in the little cell with their mutual love and passion.

He was nothing if not a magnificent and accomplished lover during his coherent times, and tender and considerate even in the throes of the agony of his opium withdrawal.

Every kiss and caress seem to both leave them wanting more, and as their intimacy grew, so to did their responsiveness to one another.

They were so in tune, Gabrielle was sure they could never grow closer, and yet each passing day, and night gifted her with new revelations about the remarkable man whom fate had bestowed upon her.

But with great love came the fear of great loss, and while Gabrielle tried not to dwell on her concerns, she did her best to be prepared for them.

On a freezing cold day near the end of March, she was in Lucinda’s cell tidying when she heard footsteps and Simon’s cell door clang open.

She had moved most of the things she had brought with her into Lucinda’s chamber at his insistence, for he feared that someone would get nervous or suspicious as to where he had got so many comforts.

She now listened, all the hairs standing up on the back of her neck, to the altercation taking place between her beloved and his visitors.

“You know what I need,” a gruff voice growled.

“I’m not going to give it to you.”

“Free the eagle.”

She heard him gasp and choke, and then what sounded to be paper crinkling and a quill scratching on the parchment.

Gabrielle grabbed her pistols from the bag Clarissa had brought for her. Fortunately she had had the presence of mind to load them in readiness just in case.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Simon gasped, sounding as though he were in agony. “This will mean—”

“Glory. Beyond my wildest dreams. And death for you at last.”

A second voice now said, “
Non
. Not yet. We must follow orders a little while longer.” She heard him clear his throat and spit, and the sound of several thumps. Simon grunted in pain but did not cry out.

“
Batard. Canard.”
The first man growled.

“You ought to know, I suppose,” Simon sneered. “The pair of you are bastards. And I’ve never met a bigger bunch of cowards than the Imperial Guard. You show your moustaches and pricks and think whole armies and villages are just going to open wide to be devoured and raped. Well not any more. Wellington beat you in the Peninsula, and in your own country. Right in Toulouse. And we shall do it again if we have to.”

“That’s it. Kill him now,” the first man ordered.

Gabrielle rammed herself in through the partly concealed opening. “Don't touch him. Get the hell out, now! And don’t come back.”

She met the gazes of the two nondescript-looking men as she quicky got from her knees to her feet and levelled the pistols between their eyes. Both had medium brown hair, were thin and wiry, quite tall, though not as huge as Simon. Cold grey eyes. Lethal. Surprised, but still self-assured.

“And don’t think I won’t use them. Or that I’m not a crack shot. You got what you came for. Now leave. And leave him alone. Or believe me, gentlemen, there will be consequences."

"Consequences, from a whore like you?" one of them sneered.

She shot him a look as hard a slap. "Aye, from a mere woman like me. Because I heard everything, and I've seen your faces. Enough to know traitors to their country when I see them. France or England, it matters not. Anyone who wants to bring their country to the brink of war, and profit by it, is a coward and traitor.
 
So get the hell out. And if you value your miserable hides, don't you dare return here ever again. ”

She moved behind the door as Simon shouted for the guard. Both men shot a wary look at each other, shrugged, and called for the guard as well.

“We’re done here," the first man growled.

Gabrielle stood tensely waiting for them to demand of the guard what she was doing there, to give her presence away. But they stepped out of the door without a word or backward glance, and the door clanged shut.

She pressed her ear to the door, but there was no whispering, or any form of conversation or consultation. The men's footsteps echoed down the length of the corridor to the stairs, and began to descend, while Spence the guard whistled a little tune, and then jeered that he hoped Simon had had a nice visit with his "friends."

Gabrielle's mind whirred the whole time she was listening. She was already rapidly formulating a plan of escape. She had always known that when she left Bedlam, Simon would be coming with her. It would simply have to happen a bit sooner than she had hoped.

So long as she could get to Antony or to her cousins, all would be well. Or to Clarissa, who had given her her address after her confession, and said to come to ever if she was ever in trouble.

As for her sister, well, she was in danger too, but not in imminent threat of her life like Simon. She could always have someone come back for Lucinda. Put pressure on Oxnard to allow her to be released into the care of her blood relations.

Surely Randall might be willing to pay Oxnard enough money to leave her alone, and initiate a divorce so she and the babe would be safe….

All was soon silent in the corridor, and she heaved sigh of relief and ran over to Simon. She wiped his face free of spittle and dabbed at his cut lip.

“Those swine. Thank God I was here—”

He looked more wretched than she had ever known. “But they’ve seen you now. It’s all over.”

“No surely not. They could have said something to the guard, got rid of me and slit your throat.”

“My guess is they must think you work for our side. There aren’t too many people armed with pistols locked away in here.”

“Our side?”

“The English.”

“But they were French.”

“
Oui
.”

“So what did they—”

“I can’t tell you. I’m not even sure myself.”

“They made you write something down. A message? In code?” she guessed.

He immediately clapped his hand to his head in pain. She cradled his cheek against her bosom and soothed him, stroking his back and the nape of his neck as he leaned against her heavily.

“What do we do? Should we try to escape now?” she asked, filled with misgivings.

“No,” he gritted out. “We’d never get far with me like this, and we ought to wait for Clarissa, tell her what happened. If she turned up and we had already run—”

“We could go to her place, leave a message there before we--”

He shook his head. “We’re only going to get one chance. If we storm out of here pointing pistols at people, the Bow Street Runners and the authorities will be after you as well as me.”

“But what makes you think they’ll be after you?”

He sighed heavily. “Because I know the way my boss works. He'll want to make sure that I have no one to help me, no one to turn to. There will be a manhunt here in London, a bounty on my head, and the head of anyone who might dare to offer me assistance...”

Gabrielle felt a cold finger of fear stroke down her spine. “Then we can’t go to Antony for help.”

“No. I also can’t ask you to leave your sister—”

She pulled his head away from her chest to gaze at him. “You’re not asking me to do anything. I’m offering. Trust me. It will be fine. I’ve got money and possessions. All we have to do is get out of the city, and get to my cousins in Somerset. They’ll take us in, I promise.

"Now, Clarissa will be here soon. Let’s hope we don’t have to flee tonight, but we’ll prepare for the worst all the same. I’ll put our essentials in the small valise, and everything else we can just leave behind in Lucinda's room.”

He nodded.

“Did they hurt you badly?” she asked when he continued to stare at the ground dejectedly.

“No. I’m just afraid this is the end. No matter what happens, I want you to know how much I love you—”

She silenced him with one finger pressed to his lips. “I do know it, darling. But it’s not the end. It’s the beginning of a whole new life as soon as we get out of here, I swear it.”

“If they kill me—”

“They won’t. I won’t let them,” she said firmly.

“And if you find yourself pregnant—”

She gripped his shoulder hard to give him a little shake. “Now stop it. You have no need to worry about anything. My family are lovely, you’ll see. Better than I deserve considering what a horrible man my brother was.”

“And Lucinda and the baby—”

“Will be fine, I promise you," she said firmly, picking up the valise to start packing her medicines for Simon. "We’ll all be fine. You have nothing to worry about. I’ve fought far too hard for our love to let them win. In a few more days we’ll be in Somerset, I swear it. We just can’t lose our nerve. All right?”

“All right,” he said with a nod and a sigh. “Let’s get ready to head off to our new life together."