Chapter Sixteen
“She’s a midwife, my lord. I’ve never seen anything like it. A complete double life.”
Benedict stared at the one man he was closest to in his entire life.
Gabriel Vance knew him better than anyone, and yet the man was still blissfully ignorant of the darkest shadows Benedict carried inside.
It set a distance between them, of course, but it also allowed for surprise and growth.
Something that was happening now because clearly, Gabriel had no understanding of why Benedict had chosen Miss Caddick for his wife.
“I know, Gabe. She’s Betty Gill and has been, since she was a child.”
The man blinked, but true to his nature, he covered his shock with a carefully blanked expression. “You are aware of her duplicity? You appreciate it?”
“She’s highly skilled at it. I know of very few people—woman or man—who could do such a thing as well as she has.”
“I cannot think of anyone.”
Benedict heard admiration in Gabriel’s tone. A kind of awe that he reserved for very few people. And that had him sitting up to take note. “You like her,” he said. Though he suspected the term “like” was a tame word for the major’s feelings.
“She has no artifice in her, yet she has successfully created two lives for herself. Her goals are to help—nothing more, nothing less—and she does it with such purity of purpose that I… I…” His words failed him.
“You thought it a complete lie.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
The man lifted his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I see why you want her,” he said. “She is everything admirable in a woman, except…” The man winced as he struggled for words.
Now this was becoming a very interesting conversation.
Lord Benedict set aside the papers in front of him.
Indeed, he abandoned his desk altogether and took his glass of brandy to a chair by the fire.
“Out with it, Gabe,” he said as he poured a glass for his friend.
It was late evening, and they both needed a break and casual conversation.
“She is a person of holy purpose,” Gabriel said. “As are you. You are matched well in that, and likely there is no other woman that you admire more.”
It was clear that was true for the major. “But?” he prompted.
“But it cannot be sustained. In a marriage, one of you must bow to the other’s purpose. Husband and wife must be a unit working for the same goals.”
“You don’t find her goals worthy?”
“Of course, I do. But they are not yours. What happens when your needs conflict with hers?”
“When I require her presence at a party, and she needs to deliver a baby?”
Gabriel nodded. “Yes. Exactly that.”
“What does she do now?”
“She claims an illness. The story is that she suffers terribly from migraines.”
Benedict lingered over a sip of this excellent French brandy. “Then that will work for me as well.” He chuckled at his friend’s stupefied gaze. “You cannot think my vanity requires her to dance attendance upon me.”
“No, of course not. But a diplomat’s wife is an important partner to his ambitions.”
Gabriel had the right of it, of course. A diplomat such as himself gathered as many useful people around him as he could possibly manage, and a wife was a significant piece of a smart man’s arsenal.
Gabriel’s problem, of course, was that he had been taught from his earliest days that birth—or the lack thereof—was a significant impediment to advancement.
That was natural. He had suffered the consequences of his unfortunate birth from the very beginning.
Were it not for his illegitimacy, he could have become a leader in any field of endeavor he chose.
Given Gabriel’s predilections, Benedict guessed he would have gone into the law. If the man had any pure passion, it was for justice. It was to see that all men were treated fairly in a world that had mistreated so many.
And Miss Caddick, of course, sought the same for the women.
Benedict refilled his glass of brandy. It was one of the few pleasures he allowed himself, and he was not going to limit himself tonight. “Why do you think Napoleon was so successful?” he asked.
Gabriel frowned at the apparent non-sequitur. “There are any number of reasons. Brilliant military strategy in battle. The Russian campaign was a disaster, of course, but—”
“The common peasant cares nothing for military skill. And no matter how brilliant, a man cannot win a battle unless he first has men. How do you think Napoleon brought every able-bodied man in France clamoring to his banner?”
“He is a product of the French Revolution,” Gabriel said, showing that he already understood where Benedict was headed. “Liberté, égalité, fraternité.”
“Meaning every able-bodied man had an equal chance to be free, to advance, and to be treated as a brother by his compatriots. Bonaparte built schools, enforced fair laws. He gave the common Frenchman hope for better, even if—especially if—the man was not born a royal.”
Gabriel nodded. “But what has that to do with Miss Caddick?”
“I do not need another political creature at my side. Those that whisper into the ears of the powerful slither into my life like leeches. I do not need a wife who is privy to what I already can discover by other means.” He arched his brows as he challenged his friend to follow the obvious line of inquiry. Gabriel did not disappoint.
“So the question is, What perspective does Miss Caddick bring you?” Gabriel sipped his drink as he finally sat down in the chair opposite Benedict. “She is connected to a vast network of common women. Not the ones who can afford lying in hospitals or have a doctor attend them for exorbitant cost.”
“Exactly.” Benedict smiled into his drink. “Women are the backbone of our world, Gabriel. Even Napoleon knew that the future destiny of a child is always the work of the mother.”
His friend grimaced. “I hate it when you glorify that monster. Not everyone understands you are studying him, not supporting him.”
“I only do it with you. Besides, only a fool disparages a powerful force. For better or worse, Napoleon trampled his way across the continent with the support of millions.”
“But Miss Caddick—”
“Miss Caddick will let me know what the common woman thinks. Do you doubt that she talks to her patients in the interminable hours as they await a child’s birth?”
“It’s hardly a casual conversational time,” Gabriel chided.
Benedict shrugged. “The process takes hours. Often more than a day. And in those hours, women talk. She hears what the peasant women think, she knows by extension what the men say.”
“And you believe she will tell it to you.”
“I am her husband. Of course, she will tell me, especially if I demonstrate my willingness to listen.” He leaned forward, trying to impress upon Gabriel the strength of his conclusion.
“If England wishes to avoid a rebellion of the lower classes, then England must hear the grumbles of her people. The only soul I know who is positioned exquisitely to provide me that information is Miss Caddick. And so I will wed her.”
Gabriel said nothing at first, but Benedict could tell that he was thinking deeply. He could see, as well, the disapproval on the man’s face. “But what of tender feeling? Do you not care for her in a personal way?”
Benedict sighed as he stared glumly into his drink. He blamed the brandy for what he was about to confess, but he could not bring himself to censor his words to his closest friend. “I do not have tender feelings for anyone, Gabe. God did not design me to be such a man.”
“That is not true.”
A simple statement, but it held a wealth of words unsaid.
They both knew how he had cared for one man, now dead on the battlefield.
They knew how he’d grown insane with worry when he could not find Michael after the Battle at Alcantara.
And how, when the body was at last located, he had fought to suppress wails of grief at the sight.
Michael had died alone in a trench, never knowing how deeply he was cherished.
“It is true,” he said firmly. “I shall honor and respect Miss Caddick according to her place as my wife.” Then he smiled in the sloppy way of all drunks. “Can you not see her with children? If the strength of the man comes from mother, think what steel will invigorate her sons.”
“And if her daughters are equally independent?”
“Then England will be better for it.” He chuckled. “If she can figure out how to serve her husband and her cause simultaneously, then she can teach such a thing to her children as well.”
Gabriel shook his head. “But she has no idea the kind of scrutiny she will endure as your wife.”
“But you do,” Benedict said. “And that is why I have made her your highest priority.”
“Benedict, no!”
“Gabriel, yes. Think! Who else do you know who has seen beneath her exterior?”
His friend sighed as if he took on a great weight. “How did you find out about her life as Betty Gill?”
“Lord Nathaniel discovered it for me.”
“Then let him—”
“No. Nate has a new wife. He cannot watch another woman right now. Not like I require.” Benedict leaned back in his chair and studied his friend.
He kept his tone casual, but he knew Gabriel was not fooled.
This was an important moment, even though it was phrased as the random question of an inebriated man.
“Is there a reason you find her objectionable?”
“Not in the least.”
Benedict read his friend’s face, seeing truth in the statement.
“Do you find it difficult to be in her close company?”
“Not at all.”
That was a lie. Or at least not the full truth.
Had his friend developed feelings for Miss Caddick?
Benedict wasn’t surprised by that. Indeed, he had always thought it was a possibility.
But could those tender feelings have grown so quickly?
He doubted even Gabe knew the extent it.
The only reason Benedict guessed was because he knew Gabe so very well.