Ascension. A.S. Fenichel

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      “See that, Mother. All is well.” Belinda’s voice was as gentle as the summer wind. She hugged her mother to her breast. When she looked up her eyes glistened with tears, but she didn’t shed any.

      His heart tightened painfully filling his chest. In that moment, he loved her more than ever, this gentle woman he remembered. It was the first glimpse he’d had of the old Belinda since his return from war. Holding her mother, she showed the sweetness he yearned for.

      “I will just take my mother to her bed, my lord. Do you have time to wait or shall we meet another day?”

      “I will wait.” Gabriel made a concerted effort not to jump to any conclusions based on what Lady Clayton had said. She was obviously not a reliable source of information. But there was something to it. Belinda had not denied her disappearance.

      She returned from seeing her mother to bed, silent as a cat, but her light feminine scent filled his head more thoroughly than any drug.

      “What did she mean, Bella?”

      “My mother is not well, Gabriel. You cannot rely on her for the information you seek.” Her lovely face was a mask of composure but the distress in her eyes betrayed her. She made her way to a grouping of chairs and sat.

      A maid entered with a tea tray. Claire looked nervously from her lady to him.

      Belinda looked at the maid a long moment. Her head twitched in approval.

      The servant nodded once before leaving them.

      “Then perhaps you would care to tell me what she was talking about?” He made his way over and accepted the cup of tea she poured, before taking the seat across from her.

      She tilted the teapot and stared down into the dark liquid.

      He could almost see her mind working out exactly what to tell him and how much. How he longed for any sign of trust from her.

      “I’m not sure where to begin. It was so long ago.”

      “Did you disappear as your mother indicated?”

      He gaze never removed from the steaming cup of tea. “Yes.”

      “Where did you go?”

      “I cannot say.”

      His jaw twitched. “Cannot or will not?”

      Finally, she looked up with wide eyes and between them, a crease marred her smooth skin. Her teacup rattled against the saucer. Was she afraid to tell him the truth or did the memory scare her? Still, she did not answer.

      “Did you leave of your own accord, Bella?”

      “No. I would never do that to my mother.”

      “So you were abducted.”

      She gave a short nod, but turned her eyes back to the cup of tea. Her knuckles whitened where she gripped the delicate china but the rattling ceased.

      Gabriel’s body shook with rage. It took all of his considerable will to keep from going into a tirade. For all her denial since his return, Belinda Clayton was his. The thought of someone touching her or doing her harm, ignited something in him that he had only experienced in the heat of battle. The desire to kill. Someone had to pay. It took him a long time to formulate any words, and then he could only manage one. “Who?”

      “I do not know exactly.”

      He steadied his ragged breath. “When did this happen?”

      She cocked her head and watched him.

      He must not have done a very good job of hiding his feelings because she studied his face with great interest. He never could hide anything from Belinda.

      “It was a few months after you left for France. I was gone for three days and then I escaped with some help. After a few days in hospital, I came home. The events were very traumatizing to my mother.”

      “Why was I not notified?”

      “Father sent a note, but you could not be located. Really, there was no point. I was safe. There was little you could have done.” Her tone was very matter-of-fact, but her cheeks had gone pale and the teacup rattled again.

      “Will you tell me what happened to you?” He reminded himself that his need for revenge was not as important as caring for Belinda, and tried to push away his anger.

      Her eyes flashed with something, anger or determination. “No. It is in the past and I have no desire to relive those memories. I survived and have moved forward. Perhaps if my father would stay home and care for his wife, she too could put it behind her. As it is, she is in constant fear of losing both of us. Though, for the life of me, I cannot understand why she should care what happens to a man who cannot be bothered to leave his precious Scotland and see his family.”

      It was well known among the ton that Lord Clayton, the Earl of Shafton, preferred his Scottish holding of Brendaligh over any of his lands in England. He rarely came down from his castle in the highlands and there was much speculation about his doings out in the wilds. Most people thought he kept a mistress, but others thought him a mad recluse. “His lordship came to town when you went missing?”

      “Yes. He arrived shortly after I returned home. I was still ill and remained in bed. He stayed for one week before the stress of the city was too much for him. Mother offered to retire to the country for the rest of the year, but he refused, saying that only Brendaligh could give him peace.”

      “Why did you and her ladyship not go to Scotland with him?”

      “We were not invited. I have never even seen Brendaligh.” She bit the words out with the taste of sour grapes.

      “I see.”

      She put her cup and saucer down and rose from the chair. “My lord, I do not wish to be rude, but I think I have had enough social interaction for the day. I would ask you to take your leave. I’m tired and my mother needs me.”

      He stood up and inclined his head. “I understand.” He hoped his frustration didn’t show on his face. He wanted more information. He needed to know what had happened to her and why she had changed so severely. The visit had been productive, he’d learned quite a lot, but he wanted more. Frustration burned in his gut.

      Without another word, she curtsied and left him alone in the parlor.

      It was not customary to leave one’s guest to find his own way out, but he ignored the slight and met Faust at the door.

      * * * *

      It occurred to him to leave her alone for the night. He’d sat at his desk thinking that the two of them had made progress. She’d told him some things about her life, though the information had raised more questions than it answered. In spite of the topic, he was pleased they’d had a dialogue.

      He could go to Whites Gentleman’s Club and enjoy an evening of cards and brandy. He’d even donned his evening clothes and called for his carriage. Belinda would stay at home or go to the theatre. She would be safe for СКАЧАТЬ