Madness (56 page)

“Come on now, lad, out with it,” his step-father Martin laughed.

“All I can say is I hope you have champagne, Lawrence, for we shall all want to celebrate in earnest now."

"Oh?"

"For not only have the three brothers been reunited at last, after all these years, but I have even more momentous news. Let's toast to your good fortune, and Europe’s,” Ash said with barely suppressed excitement.

Philip Marshall came charging in at precisely that moment, and managed to upstage the handsome young man. “I say, everyone, you’re never going to believe what I just heard in Bristol!”

Ash was nothing if not gracious, and didn’t mind when Philip, scarcely pausing for breath, said, “I was looking everywhere for all of you. The news just came to England from St. Helena. Napoleon is dead.”

One could have heard a pin drop after Philip Marshall’s remarkable announcement that Napoleon Bonaparte really was dead. That they would never have to fear invasion or another war again.

“Oh, thank God,” Jonathan said with equal parts of devotion and rancour.

Simon concurred, and knew how heartfelt the vicar’s sentiments were. Three years in the army had convinced Jonathan that Napoleon was the Devil incarnate, though it had also shown him the road to salvation, and set him on his current career path as a vicar.

All the Rakehells, in fact, has suffered because of the war. But now it was over. And he was truly free from his puppetmasters at last.

He looked at Gabrielle now, who met his gaze and smiled with obvious relief.

“Are you sure? Really
sure
?” George rasped, feeling an incredible sense of unreality creep over him.

Ash Paignton and his wife nodded.

Philip confirmed it. “Certain. It’s in the official dispatches, signed and sealed. No mere false rumour, but fully confirmed. It’s all over, ladies and gentleman. The Emperor is no more. Long live the King, England, and the Rakehells.”

“Here, here!”

“Hip, hip!

“Hurrah!” everyone echoed, and then the hugging, kissing and weeping of joyful tears began in earnest. They drank toast after toast, sang, danced, and were numb with excitement and disbelief.

Simon's head spun dizzily. He was glad he was sitting with his two brothers, for he feared he would have fallen otherwise.

All of the long, dark years of service, intelligence gathering, imprisonment, torture, all seemed to fall away now as he sat gripping both of them by the arm. They were solid, real.

This was no mere dream any longer. His quest for freedom, and the brothers he had lost, was finally at an end.

He glanced across at Gabrielle, getting to know Miranda and Sarah, their new sisters in law. And at baby Christopher, who was being dandled by Blake's wife Arabella, and Ash's young wife Ellen, who reminded him very much of Lucinda, resting next door in the small parlor, but who would make a full recovery, according to Blake, so long as no infection set in.

His family, old and new. And a bright future with Lawrence in the tea trade, or Juliet in the wine trade, which had once been the life's blood of his family until the war. He wouldn't be at all surprised if these had been some of their own routes and partners down in Dorset.

Alexander and he had never troubled to seek out the family fortune, but George was a much more canny man of business. He had invested it well, and made a great deal more during the war at his theatre. The brothel he had run as a cover for spies had apparently also been successful, but he had never touched a penny of it, giving it all to the girls who worked there, and later making many generous donations to the Bethnal Green clinic where Antony Herriot worked.

Simon was sorry Antony was not at the family gathering, but he knew how busy the young man was with his Herculean task of helping the poor in London.

"We shall have to write to Antony, tell him all our good news," Simon said to her.

She looked surprised, but pleased.

"After all, he was the one who told you what to do to relieve opium addiction, even though he thought you were mad for ever trying to help me at Bedlam."

"He didn't understand, that's all. I didn't either. I never knew there could be so many evil people in the world trying to profit from war and the suffering of others. Keeping you there like, like an animal for whenever they needed you."

He nodded and sighed. "They tormented George into doing their bidding all these years in the hopes of finding the two of us again. And kept Alexander in the service in the same way. He's been in the most danger of all, on active service. Even so many years after Waterloo, there are still plots and strategems afoot to help re-build the Empire."

"Well, it's all to no avail now, for they have no Emperor. He's dead now, and good riddance," she said stoutly. "If I weren't such a lady in such a lovely parlor, I'd jolly well spit."

He nodded. "As George did when Oxnard fell to his death. Such a man as that, well, disgusting."

"Aye, but as powerful as they both seemed, they're both dead, and we're still here, and in love, and happy. We've won, Simon. We've won. It really is all over now, and the future,
our
future, can be exactly as you choose."

He gripped her in a fierce embrace which left no doubt as to what they both desired most in their immediate future.

"And I have you to thank for it all. You saved my life—"

She put one finger on his lush lips. "You saved Lucinda and Christopher. We're even."

"Come over here, you two, and tell us again how you met," George commanded, sliding over and patting the widened empty space on the sofa which Simon had recently vacated.

Simon and Gabrielle were thrilled to be with their new family, and the brothers almost looked as though they didn’t want to let the others out of their sight.

But soon the pressure of romance caused them to separate into three couples who crept out of the drawing room to share some deeper and more private emotions of their own.

They went outside into the arbor Lawrence had constructed for his wife, and held each other tenderly, overwhelmed by the news.

“Is it really over at last?” Gabrielle asked him softly when he finally lifted his lips.

He nodded, and held her close to his hammering heart. “Over, and just beginning. I promise you, darling, I'm going to make the best life possible for all of us. I know it won’t be easy. I have no idea what plans Georges, er, George, or Jason, er, Alexander have, but I would want us to all be together as near to one another as possible.”

“Well, we can stay with my family for as long as we like while you move back into the world again at last. We don’t have to decide everything at once. Little steps. But I recall Lawrence asking for you to help with the wine trade, so there’s no harm in asking if he’s still interested in one or more helpers.”

“That’s right. Only how will he feel about me being Simon D’Ambois?”

She shook his head. “I’m sure he won’t mind. I might be very nervous, though. I’m still so afraid they might come for you.”

He shook his head. “I can’t live in fear any longer. And now that my brothers are so near, I’m sure they won’t dare... Not to mention the fact that Napoleon is dead. What use can they have for me now?”

By this time they had arrived in the bower, and he sat on the swing and pulled her into his lap, cradling her against his chest as though he would never let her go.

“Let’s hope they have none. Because I have far too many for a wonderful husband like you. You’ve spent too many years in the service of your country. It's time for you to get your life back.”

“As have we all,” he sighed. “Poor Georges. And Jason, er, Alexander. He just got back from duty in Ireland last night apparently, and couldn’t resist a Rakehell picnic.”

"Well, who could," she joked. "Never a dull moment, eh?"

“Thank the gods he came when he did, though,” he said fervently a moment later. “I have no idea what would have happened if Alexander hadn’t saved the baby from that madman, and Georges, er, George and I saved each other from the ravine.”

The reminder of how close she had come to losing him prompted her to kiss him hard, and before they knew it, they were blanketed on his jacket on the thick lush grass as his frenzied lovemaking drove them both to the heights of bliss.

But at last he rolled off her, tugged her skirts back down, and pulled her close to his side.
 
He murmured against her hair, “I told you I would know when the time was right, didn't I?"

She knew what he meant at once, and a surge of joy soared through her.

"It's right now. We have no reason to wait any longer, my lovely Gabrielle. I have my name back, D'Ambois, and I’ve seduced and thoroughly ravished you. I'm afraid there's just no help for it, my love. You’re just going to have to marry me.”

She smiled up at him. “Oh, darling, of course. It’s what we’ve both been praying for. The answer is yes, a million times yes.” She began to shower his face with kisses.

“When would you like to do it, then?”

“As soon as Jonathan Deveril has a space on his calendar, and your brothers can stand for you as groomsmen?” she suggested with a loving look.

His eyes lit up. “What a wonderful idea. Oh, do you think they’ll agree?”

She nodded. “You get that lovely little light in your eyes, and no one can refuse you anything, my darling.”

“Really?” He grinned, and his eyes did indeed take on that golden sparkle that she loved so well. “In that case, do you suppose we can try that swing, in the amatory sense? I mean, it’s the talk of the neighbourhood, and I think in view of the...”

Gabrielle was already stark naked and on her feet. “I just love the way you can always read my mind. Know what I want even before I do.”

Simon laughed as he seated himself on the swing, and then gripped one of her legs to draw it over the seat in the opposite direction so she could straddle him.

“Oh, I don’t know. One look at you, one gaze from your gorgeous eyes, and I get the most thrilling fantasies in my head, like nothing I’ve ever known before. We must feed each other’s fleshly frenzy.”

“Mmm, I just love your way with words, in English and in French," she purred, gripping his shoulders to steady herself as she slipped her other leg over his lap. "Perhaps especially in French when you say all those sexy little things to me.”