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“I dare say ‘twill be a good thing when his Lordship marries. A man needs a wife in ‘is bed.”
“Aye well, I won’t disagree with you there. An’ from what I seen of her, she be a right pert little thing! I wouldn’t say no to a plump little partridge like her to ride every night.” Deep and dirty chuckles reverberated around the chamber and further lewd conversation followed.
“’Tis about time the master thought about siring an heir. ‘T’would be nice to have some young life about the house.”
“That widder woman gives me chills. I’ll be more’en happy when she’s gone. The master don’t need the likes of her ‘ere reminding ‘im of the past.”
“I agree, he needs young blood to put some colour in his cheeks.”
“Don’t you mean in his cock?” Lewd laughter filled the room.
Angele froze. She watched the valet and manservant’s stocking covered calves move towards the door.
After they’d left she clambered out from under the bed and dusted down her skirts. Leaving the chamber she headed to the little used stairs at the far end of the house which she knew led to a room in the turret where she used to go to be alone. The small circular chamber was unchanged. It was clear that no one had been up here in a long time. The room smelt musty and dust lay thick upon what little furniture there was.
Angele dusted off the settle with the end of her shawl and sat. The view from the small mullioned window was superb. She could see for miles over the frozen landscape. It had been clear from overhearing the servants’ conversation, that the household was of the opinion St. Nicolas should marry Noelle. Even though it tore her heart to contemplate her husband with another woman, she knew this was the right thing for him. She needed to conclude her business with him regarding Christopher and leave Michaelmas Hall as soon as possible. The longer she remained here the weaker her resolve became.
Movement on the ground caught her eye and she watched as Gabriel returned. She craned for a last glimpse of him before he disappeared from her sight.
Burying her face in her hands she wept.
Chapter 6
He awoke, instantly alert. A sudden scream, followed shortly by another shriek echoed eerily from somewhere within the house. Throwing back the bedcovers, Gabriel grabbed his banyan, and hastened out into the corridor, thrusting his arms into the robe as he went. He followed the sound until it cut off abruptly. Concerned, he quickened his pace toward the bedchamber where he knew Marie slept.
He knocked once and stepped immediately inside the chamber. Her maid rushed over to him looking flustered.
“Milord!”
She curtsied low so he was able to glimpse over the maid’s head and saw his guest, lying prone upon her bed. He attempted to step around the woman, but she side-stepped awkwardly into his path, thus blocking him.
“’Tis naught but a bad dream, my lord, nothing for you to concern yourself over. My lady is settled now with a draught; she will soon sleep. T’would not do for you to be found here inside the countess’s bed chamber, Milord.”
He realised the maid had the right of it and withdrew, relieved to find the screams were caused by nothing more sinister than a nightmare. Gabriel pondered over Marie’s dream as he walked back to his own chamber, guessing the reason for her disturbed night was their conversations surrounding the horrors of Paris, the day her aunt and cousin had both been killed.
He snuffed out his candle. Almost instantly the recollection of Marie recumbent on her bed filled his mind. There had been an abundance of fair hair shimmering in the flickering candlelight; it spilled in golden waves across the pillows. He suddenly recalled an image of the count and his countess, Marie as they had stood in line waiting to congratulate them on their wedding day.
Finally the reason for his unease and nagging doubts about the woman became clear. The facts which had niggled at his subconscious from the moment the countess had arrived at Michaelmas Hall. The Marie he had met at his wedding had been tall with an abundance ofdarkhair. This veiled creature was slight and what’s more she was astoundingly…blonde. The woman, who proclaimed to be Marie, could not be his wife’s cousin at all! If she was not Marie, then who the devil was she?
He tossed and turned all night, rising before daybreak. If the woman claiming to be Marie was a fraud, then it followed that the boy she claimed to be his son could also be one. His heart sank at the thought, but after all, it had seemed a highly unlikely tale, one that now proved too good to be true. She must be a charlatan, perhaps after his title and wealth for her own son. He determined to get to the truth of the matter as soon as the imposter awoke.
He went to his study and lit the fire himself. Pouring a brandy, he sipped thoughtfully, jolted from his reverie by the arrival of the maid come to tidy and set the hearth ready for the new day. She hovered in the doorway, uncertain of her welcome since she saw the flames already dancing. Gabriel called to her.
“Would you fetch me some muffins to toast and a pot of coffee, if you please?” Toasting muffins would sooth the disquiet he felt upon discovering the woman upstairs was practicing a deception upon him. It would also keep his hunger at bay until the breakfast hour.
The maid bobbed a curtsy and scuttled away to do his bidding.
He entered the breakfast room some while later, fully groomed and dressed. Selecting some kedgeree from the sideboard, he seated himself at the top of the table, hoping his guest would soon join him so he could uncover her identity and bring to light whatever game she was playing. The hour ticked by, and yet there was no sign of her. Gabriel pulled the bell cord.
“You rang, Milord?” Carroll, the butler, answered his summons.
“Aye, has the countess arisen yet?”
“Indeed, sir. The lady and her maid departed some while ago.”
He jerked upright. “Departed, in this weather?”
“I attempted to dissuade the lady from leaving, my lord, but she was adamant. I believe she mentioned something about fetching a boy from your sister’s house?”
