The Vengeful Bridegroom (23 page)

The small party enjoyed more removes, each one more delicious than the last, until even the squire had to beg off, exclaiming he was more well fed at Westcott Close than his very own pigs, at which Rachel scowled and sank farther into her chair. Rachel reminded Madelene of herself at that young age, although she had to admit she probably hero-worshipped her father more than Rachel did her own.

Distracted once again by Mrs. Tottencott, since they sat next to each other, Madelene nodded and smiled at the older woman’s reminiscing over her years in London, her first Season quite a success, her sister’s connection to the royal family, she vaguely remembered Madelene’s father, and wasn’t her brother in some trouble years back over a kidnapping?

Madelene felt the color drain from her face. How far news traveled even after all these years. Matthew had been five and ten years of age, and little more than easy prey for a trio of criminals promising guineas to drive a carriage. The trio had neglected to mention it was a kidnapping. All had ended well, and no charges or conviction were ever laid at her brother’s door. Still—

Gabriel must have sensed her consternation because he interrupted their conversation before she could find her voice to reply.

“Mrs. Tottencott, have you had the wonderful opportunity to hear Rachel sing? She has sung for many fine families in the county, and I wonder if she would grace us with a selection this evening?” Gabriel turned to the young girl with a warm and hopeful expression.

The squire’s daughter returned his smile shyly and nodded.

“Delightful,” intoned the vicar, overhearing the request. “I have heard Miss Rachel sing in church, and I may tell you, no one nearly breathes until she finishes her recitals.”

The squire humpfed. “Vicar, I think you have much imagination. My daughter sings well, but time will tell if it will come to aught.”

“As long as it gives pleasure to the listener and the performer, surely, that is success in itself,” Madelene looked at Rachel and smiled. “How fortunate you are to have such talent. I look forward to your performance later.”

With dinner over and cigars and port enjoyed, the men joined the women in the drawing room. The squire, Rachel, Hyacinth, and Rose played whist while Gabriel, Madelene, and the others listened to Lavender play the pianoforte. The young woman played extremely well and appeared agreeable to everyone’s ears, in particular to Mr. Bush’s, if Madelene divined correctly.

They would make a sweet couple, and after all, Lavender did act the part of a lovelorn young woman. Only Madelene could not ascertain in which direction Mr. Bush’s ardency lay.

During a break while Rachel prepared to sing and Lavender to accompany her, Mrs. Tottencott interrupted the silence. “Tell me, Mr. Westcott, I have heard an unusual rumor in the village, which I find hard to give credence to.”

Madelene closed her eyes briefly, agitated as to what Mrs. Tottencott could possibly ask. However, her husband sat beside her in perfect comfort and humor and cocked his head at his guest. “Pray tell, whatever does this rumor have to do with our household?”

Mrs. Tottencott cleared her throat. “Ahem. Could it be possibly true that there is a babe in this house? I understood you to be married a short amount of time, hardly time—”

“I am pleased you have asked the question of me, for it would be displeasing for you to learn the truth from any other source.” He smiled cordially at his audience, and Madelene tensed beside him, concerned how he would present the situation.

“During our sojourn in Italy, I, that is, my sister and I, befriended distant cousins on my mother’s side. Before we were to return to England, my sister became terribly ill. One of our cousins, Gemma Madroni, assisted with my sister’s care.

“As I planned to return to England with Lucinda, an acquaintance informed me Gemma had been overcome with a grave illness, and would we raise her child, a boy, because Gemma thought so highly of our family. There were no other relatives to look after the boy, so I arranged for him to be brought here, when he reached a year or nearly a year.

“Little did I realize my sister’s health would soon take a turn for the worse, and she would not be here with me. But I am committed to raising the boy as my own, and due to my good fortune, I have my wife by my side.” He looked to Madelene for reassurance. He had decided many months ago he would never besmirch his sister’s name, no matter the cost or falsehoods they would have to tell.

Madelene smiled and nodded. “There is no more story than that.”

Before she could continue, the vicar added, “What kindness! What generosity! How noble you both are to want to raise the boy as your own. Oh, Christians, we are indeed in the home of saints. You will be blessed in heaven—”

Mrs. Tottencott must have sensed a sermon ensuing and quickly interrupted. “Yes, Vicar, that is very generous of Mr. and Mrs. Westcott. Certainly a surprise, assuming they will have their own children some day.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply, but a knock on the door prevented him.

Madelene looked to the door and saw Charlotte, her face pinched white, motioning to her. She excused herself and hurried over to the nurse at the door.

“Mrs. Westcott, ma’am.” Her voice shook, indeed her whole body trembled.

Something was terribly wrong. Madelene left the parlor and closed the door behind her. She didn’t want their guests to be disturbed and privy to whatever worried the young woman.

Concerned over Charlotte’s state, Madelene laid a hand on her shoulder. “Charlotte, please calm yourself. Whatever can possibly have happened to put you in such a vexed condition?”

“It’s George.”

Frozen, Madelene could only stare; her heart seized tight, and she felt a cold fear never known before. “What is wrong with George? Tell me!” She could barely think, waiting anxiously for a reply.

She didn’t want to hear. She didn’t want to know.

Charlotte, with tears in her eyes, told her mistress. “I only left the nursery for a moment. I thought George wanted milk, and I couldn’t find Donna Bella—”

Her eyes widened and she knew a dreadful foreboding. “You left George? Did he fall? Is he hurt?”

Charlotte shook her head several times. “No, no, Mrs. Westcott. He’s, he’s gone.”

Her brow furrowed, Madelene looked more closely at the nurse. “What do you mean, he’s gone?”

“Someone has taken him.”

Gabriel asked to be excused from his guests to determine what had become of his wife. Outside the drawing-room doors, Graham advised him the nurse and Mrs. Westcott had headed in the direction of the nursery, and they both appeared most agitated. Gabriel ran the entire way, unsure of what he would find.

Bursting through the opened nursery doors, he found his wife sitting on the floor with Charlotte sitting next to her. He watched in confusion as Madelene stared at the floor and the nurse held her hand, patting it, while stuttering and weeping at the same time.

Whatever could have happened? Gabriel rushed to kneel next to his wife, his heart thudding in his ears. “Madelene, what is it? Please tell me what is wrong so I can make it right.”

Madelene kept shaking her head, and he knew.

He looked at Charlotte. “Where is George?” he demanded. He didn’t have to search the nursery to know he wasn’t here, the babe wasn’t in the house.

At that moment, Mrs. Lavishtock bustled into the room and froze when she saw her prostrate mistress.

“Oh, it’s happened. My dear girl. I couldn’t stop him.” She pressed her hands to her lips in dismay.

Gabriel, with his arm around Madelene, looked up in astonishment. “What is going on and where is George? Will someone please tell me? Who couldn’t you stop?”

With Charlotte blubbering, only Mrs. Lavishtock answered. “It’s the mistress’s brother, Mr. Colgate. He took George.”

“Mrs. Lavishtock, are you confident of what you are saying? How can you accuse Mrs. Westcott’s brother?”

The housekeeper shook her head. “He is not in his room. I have heard rumors among the staff of Mr. Colgate’s displeasure here, and that he might be capable of dark measures.”

Gabriel did not want to believe Mrs. Lavishtock, since she had no concrete evidence. But the more he pondered on the likely suspect, he knew. He knew Matthew Colgate was capable of such a devious affair, though he couldn’t fathom the reason Colgate had kidnapped George, unless he planned to use the babe in some nefarious manner. Perhaps in exchange for those damnable diamonds. He wished the gems and thieves had never interfered in his home.

Fury alighted inside him. He should have known and kept better watch. Perhaps if he told Colgate about the child—Little good it did now to change the outcome of events already on course in a terrible and unexpected direction.

No time for lingering longer. He helped Madelene stand, and holding her in his arms, lifted her chin so she could look at him and believe what he said. “We will get George back. I promise you. Believe me. As soon as I can determine what direction your brother headed, I’ll go after him. I’ll bring little George back. Madelene?” He was afraid for her until she spoke.

Her beautiful blue eyes focused again on him, “I believe you, Gabriel. I know you’ll bring him back. But Matthew?”

Hardly able to contain his anger at her brother, he narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. After hesitating, he replied, “I cannot make a promise which I may not be able to give you.” He gave her a brief kiss. “I’ll have Mrs. Lavishtock and Fanny stay with you, and I’ll leave shortly after I talk to the others.”

Before he left the nursery, he questioned Charlotte about the timing of when she left George sleeping and returned with the milk. She couldn’t be quite sure but thought it was an approximation of thirty minutes, editing the version where she stayed longer to gossip with Fanny.

Gabriel didn’t want to waste time determining responsibility. He only wanted to find George safe, then he would make Matthew regret he ever played this dangerous game. The stakes this time were too high. Colgate had involved a helpless child, and that could never be forgiven.

He prayed for George’s safe return, realizing with irony that praying was not a habit of his. If it was in his power, George would soon be back with them, enjoying his goat’s milk and his favorite toy, a stuffed mouse named Baba.

Downstairs, he instructed Windthorp to offer apologies to their guests for the abrupt halt to the evening, but Madelene had taken ill. The less explanation, the better. Any more detail, and Mrs. Tottencott might call on her distant connection to the Crown for help, which certainly would not do.

As ordered, Windthorp saw their guests to their carriages and received their well wishes for Mrs. Westcott’s speedy recovery, but Mr. Bush refused to leave. He told Gabriel’s valet, “I want to help. I’d like to see if there is anything I can do for Mrs. Westcott. Please let me stay.”

He could not be convinced otherwise and remained in the foyer where Gabriel found him several minutes later. Stopping to have a word with his friend, Graham called to him.

The butler hurried over with a vellum in his hand.

Gabriel scanned the contents, and his rage burned even brighter. Exactly what he had feared, in Colgate’s own handwriting: “Bring the diamonds to London and you’ll get the boy back.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d get the boy back, and in the same condition as he was taken, or Matthew would not have only the count to fear for his health.

Graham told him that Cappie had mentioned a carriage and two horses were missing.

With a baby and perhaps a stop in Ludlow for Brelford, assuming Matthew’s cohort still lingered in the area, a one-horse rider should easily overtake them. Based on what he was able to glean from the staff, Colgate had about an hour start. A fleeting thought pursued him. Who cared for little George while Colgate held the reins?

Time now measured in heartbeats, Gabriel changed into traveling clothes, looked in on Madelene one last time, and promised to send word as soon as he had George or returned with him. Windthorp stood at the top of the staircase, small satchel in hand, ever prepared for his master. Gabriel grabbed the bag and ran down the stairs. He was committed to finding George and Matthew in the swiftest time and thought to head first to Ludlow, and then the main road to London.

Before he left, he issued strict warnings Madelene should be watched at all costs, still worried over her safety.

On his way to the stables where Cappie was to saddle Mars, he saw Mr. Bush, still waiting in the hall. “Bush, there are few I can trust. I need to get to London immediately or at least on the road to Town. Since I do not know how successful I’ll be in locating Madelene’s brother and our charge, George, I’ll send word for Madelene and the others to join me, if necessary, at the town house.”

“I’ll remain here to help any way I can,” Hayden told him, holding his hand out for Gabriel’s grasp.

Gabriel smiled. “You are indeed a worthy friend. Watch over Madelene, for I fear for her health. She loves George.”

Bush nodded. “Yes. Godspeed.”

Shrugging on his coat, Gabriel glanced around and whistled.

No Falstaff. He walked toward the kitchen, still whistling. No black-and-white terrier tore down the hall at him, and he didn’t have time to look in his bedchamber.

“Bush, one thing more. Remember to have Madelene bring Falstaff. It is of the utmost importance.”

If his friend thought it odd to travel with the little dog, he kept his thoughts to himself.

One last matter. Gabriel called to Graham. “Have you seen Alec? I need her to—”

“She’s gone.” Graham stood steadfast with only bad news to deliver this night.

“Gone where?” The night became blacker and blacker.

“Cappie told me a few minutes ago. Alec accompanied Mr. Colgate.”

Why would Alec go with Colgate to London? For what purpose? And the answer was too ready. Colgate needed Alec to care for the child. He felt a brief flicker of relief before he remembered another possibility.

Alec had always planned to return to her uncle, the Count Taglioni, and back to Italy. With the diamonds, of that he could not be more certain.

When he found her, he thought, she had better have feared for her life than gone willingly with the master perpetrator, taking their child from them. They would have a long talk when next they met.

Entering the stables, Gabriel found Cappie had saddled Mars, whose tail twitched as he moved restlessly, his ears pricked up. He was ready to run. Gabriel grabbed the reins, swung himself up onto his horse, and headed out into the tarnished night.

After she ensured Mr. Bush was settled in for the night, Madelene stayed up for hours having tea with Mrs. Lavishtock, Fanny, and Charlotte in the kitchen, hoping to learn of word about George.

Talk came round to Alec, and to Madelene’s surprise or perhaps not so surprising, Mrs. Lavishtock had learned that on the young Italian girl’s journey from the village to Westcott Close, she had fallen off her horse and had been set upon by a wild dog, or so she would have them believe, the housekeeper added.

Then Mrs. Lavishtock showed Madelene the package that Alec had delivered to Mr. Westcott, who indicated the package was actually for Mrs. Westcott.

Halfheartedly, Madelene unwrapped the brown paper to discover the latest French fashion plates and pale pink muslin material. How terribly thoughtful of her husband. If the situation was different, she would have been thrilled at the present. At the moment, she could only concentrate on the joy to be had when Mr. Westcott brought George back safely.

At half past three in the morning, Mrs. Lavishtock shooed all of them to bed. Although Windthorp stood guard outside Madelene’s bedchamber, none of them could have known the danger had passed from Westcott Close and headed in the direction of London.