Chapter Three
Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and the rain poured as Gabriel leaned back in his desk chair and sipped his brandy, watching the storm from the window of his study.
The flashes lit up the room, completely outshining the braces of candles and sconces on the wall as he attempted to finish his evening paper in his study.
Storms like this reminded him of that night three years ago…
“God’s teeth! When is this storm going to end?
” he muttered, frustration mounting. He reached for the decanter of brandy and refilled his glass.
For three years now, every anniversary of their deaths had brought the same emotions roiling in his gut.
He indulged in brandy to try to forget—he needed to forget.
Forgetting was much easier than remembering.
But tonight’s storm made it even harder.
The continuous lightning and thunder frayed his nerves.
Even consuming almost an entire decanter of brandy this night couldn’t numb his guilt.
He lived with it every day, but every year on the anniversary, everything was more pronounced, and it felt as if the accident had just happened.
Three years ago, a similar storm had claimed his sister Olivia, her husband, Max, and his fiancée, Juliet. Sweet Juliet. The golden-haired, doe-eyed beauty had always been afraid of the water, never wanting to sit in a boat for fear of falling into the water and perishing.
“It’s water, Juliet. When we are married, I will teach you how to swim. It’ll be good for you to learn.”
Oh, God, how he wished he had taught her to swim.
Maybe there would have been a different outcome.
But he knew better. His Juliet had been trapped in the carriage by a strong current, and according to witnesses, the carriage was sinking fast. No one had survived except his little niece, Caro, who was small enough for her mother to hand through the window to a footman outside the carriage.
The footman had been a strong swimmer and got her to safety.
His mother stepped into the study. “Darling, it’s a storm, and it will end soon,” she said softly.
“Try to take a deep breath. I just checked on Caro, and she’s tucked in her bed, fast asleep.
She’s so like your sister, who could sleep through anything.
” She turned to leave but then seemed to change her mind and walked up to his desk.
“Alcohol won’t change what happened. You know that. Please don’t return to heavy drinking.”
“I’m not a child, Mother,” he grumbled. “It may not change things, but it dulls the pain.”
“I know, darling, and I understand. But you’re not the only one who remembers,” she said softly, offering him a faint smile of understanding.
Blast! His mother was right, and he owed her an apology, he thought, setting down his brandy.
He’d never been prone to nightmares, not even as a child—but for the past three years, as the anniversary of that horrible night approached, the same dream always returned to haunt him.
It was the pain of guilt that undid him.
The guilt that he drank to forget.
The guilt that haunted him. Would it have made a difference if he’d been there with them? They would have taken two carriages with the footmen, their luggage following in a third conveyance. Perhaps that would have changed everything…
But you couldn’t turn back the clock. And guilt was stronger than reason.
Tonight’s storm was an additional boogeyman.
When he thought about it like that, it seemed reasonable to use alcohol to chase away the darkness.
Except that he knew otherwise. He had been forever changed three years ago. It had left a mark on him…on his soul.
He saw the look of sadness and love his mother gave him—and it only added to his pain.
He knew with certainty that he’d have the nightmare tonight.
It always began with either Juliet or Olivia floating in the river, desperately treading water, arms flailing, as she was carried downstream.
Regardless of which one, she’d cry out for help, but no matter how fast and furiously he swam, he could never reach them in time.
And another horror would appear—his late brother-in-law, a man he had loved like a blood brother.
Perhaps because he’d always wondered how Max had died, unable to save at least one of them.
Max stood a head taller than most men and, to Gabriel’s estimation, was very strong.
But always, as if in answer, Max floated by with blood gushing from his head, his eyes closed, and his arms extended—arms that were always empty.
Had Max been hit by a warming brick or something in the carriage and knocked unconscious?
As always, there were no answers.
Thank God they’d managed to save Caro just in time before the current dragged the carriage under.
It must have been terrifying for them. His little sister had always been brave, but for her to hand her daughter through the window of a carriage, knowing she might never see her again, had to be the greatest act of courage Gabriel had ever known.
“At least Caro isn’t having those nightmares anymore,” his mother said softly, wiping a tear from her cheek.
Olivia had inherited her strength from their mother.
And it was rare that Gabriel saw her cry.
After the tragedy, he knew his mother would sob in the privacy of her bedchamber in the middle of the night.
He could see the proof in her red and swollen eyes the next morning.
Gabriel got up from his desk and walked over to his mother. He hugged her and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. True, Caro was no longer plagued nightly by nightmares, but his niece hadn’t uttered one word since that night. “I’m glad Caro is sleeping peacefully,” he said.
“Higgins said you just arrived from London an hour or so ago.” While she did not ask directly, her tone was questioning.
“Yes. The timing couldn’t be helped,” he said, responding more sharply than he intended. He hadn’t wanted to leave them, given the anniversary was approaching, but he had done it for Caro’s sake.
“I am not reprimanding you, Gabriel,” his mother said.
For the past three days, Gabriel had been in London, meeting with his family’s solicitors regarding his niece’s financial future and overseeing various investments that his brother-in-law had established when Caro was born.
Gabriel had grown the investments and added more funds to them.
Max’s last will had declared that all his estate’s unentailed property and investments be moved into one account under the direction of Gabriel, who had been named Caro’s guardian and as executor of the estate.
He was determined to make certain the estate of his late sister and brother-in-law grew substantially for his sweet Caro.
His mother studied him for a long moment before nodding. “You understand my concern, son. I can’t lose both of my children.”
He had given her enough reasons not to trust him, and he knew it.
Still, it rankled. Yes, he also spent time at the Lyon’s Den—but lately, it was mostly engaging in a few card games with friends and associates.
Gabriel had never been so unwise as to gamble away his family’s legacy.
He was nothing like his uncle. But he knew his mother feared he would suddenly turn into the man who had caused the misery and suffering of his mother’s dear sister. That rankled most of all.
He hated his uncle. The man was a degenerate.
Gabriel did carry his own guilt for drinking heavily after the accident.
But after that first year, he’d stopped drinking himself into a stupor every night.
In fact, he rarely drank anymore except around the anniversary.
But rather than explaining himself, he asked, “Did you read my missive? We have been invited to a house party sponsored by Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon.”
“I’m afraid you will have to attend alone. Caro needs me here,” she said. She turned to leave but then said, “I wish you’d stay with Caro and me, here.” Her voice had a thread of frustration. “Son, it was a horrible and tragic accident. But it wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t? For the past three years, I have been haunted by their deaths… If I had been there…” He shook his head.
“Son, you can’t know if your presence in that carriage would have saved your sister and Max. Or Juliet. It was a horrible accident. But it wasn’t your fault,” she said. “There were several men there, including a doctor, and they couldn’t save them.”
He nodded—logically, he knew that, but it was hard to reconcile his mind with his heart.
He blew out a breath. “I realize that you think I spend all my time at the Lyon’s Den when I’m in London.
Maybe that was true the first year. I drank and gambled more than I should have.
However, I’ve changed that. I did visit the Lyon’s Den on this trip to London, but not to drink.
While there, I met with our solicitors on Caro’s behalf.
I also met with a group of investors and went with them to the Lyon’s Den, mostly to find out as much as I could about some unique investment opportunities.
I am serious about making certain Max’s estate grows as much as it can for Caro.
As her uncle and guardian, I do this because I love her and want to protect her. ”
“I understand,” the countess said softly.
The heavy brass knocker sounded at the front door and echoed upstairs to the study. Gabriel and his mother were silent for a moment as they exchanged a look.
“It’s very late,” he said, checking his pocket watch. “Who could be out at this late hour? Are you expecting someone, Mother?”
She shook her head, her eyes reflecting the worry that he, too, was feeling, for it was almost three years ago on a similar night when a tragedy killed half their family.
Without speaking, they left the study and made their way downstairs.
They arrived in the foyer just as their butler, Higgins, opened the front door. But a heavy gust of wind suddenly caught it and slammed it against the wall. Higgins caught the door in his usual unflappable manner and held it open. “Welcome to Ravenswood Manor. How may we be of help?”
Two young women stood in the doorway, both bedraggled and covered in mud.
“Thank goodness someone is at home,” the younger, dark-headed woman said in a melodious voice.
“Kind sir, we are in dire need of assistance. Our carriage overturned in the storm and slid down a steep hill a few miles down the road. We managed to escape with the horses and make it here, but our driver requires medical attention.”
My God, it happened again, Gabriel thought.
Well, this time, he would do everything in his power to help this young woman and her servants.
“I am Lord Gabriel Dawson, the Earl of Ravensthorpe, and this is my mother, Lady Elsa Dawson, the Countess of Ravensthorpe,” he said, stepping forward.
“Please, come in, and let us be of assistance.”
The young woman turned toward him, and his breath hitched as he beheld her face.
Exquisite… Even completely drenched and covered in mud, she was a beauty.
Those eyes… He’d never seen eyes that shade of blue.
Nay, not blue…but violet. And they were mesmerizing.
Gabriel felt an overwhelming urge to take her in his arms, to protect her.
“Thank you, my lord, my lady,” she said breathlessly with a curtsy.
“My name is Miss Elizabeth Vickers, and this is Alice, my maid. We were on our way to a house party being given by Mrs. Dove-Lyon near Bath when our horses were spooked by the storm, causing our driver to lose his hold on the reins.”
Gabriel could tell by her accent that she was not English, but American. “Higgins, please see to the driver and send one of your men to fetch Dr. Baker.”
“Yes, my lord,” the butler said, turning to the two footmen who were standing at the ready and giving them instructions.
“Miss Vickers, will you and your maid come warm yourself by the fire?” Gabriel’s mother said with a kind smile, gesturing to the drawing room down the hall.
“Thank you, my lady,” Miss Vickers said in that soft, melodious voice.
She glanced at Gabriel and seemed to hesitate.
Unconsciously, she bit her lower lip, and he once again felt the overwhelming urge to sweep her up in his arms. “Except I should not leave our driver,” she added, “for he is but a child of fourteen.”
“Your driver is fourteen?” Gabriel said.
Miss Vickers blushed, her expression one of distress. “I promise, we had no idea when we departed. His father was supposed to drive us…” Her voice faded, and she looked as though she were about to burst into tears. “Please, can you help him, my lord?”
“Of course we will help him,” he said just as the footmen carried the boy inside. “Please do not worry—we’ll see to everything.”
“Thank you, my lord,” she breathed, and he wished he could carry her into the drawing room himself and set her in front of the fire…
“My lady, shall I go with them?” Alice asked.
Just as Miss Vickers was about to reply, Mrs. Flinters, their housekeeper, bustled up to them. “My lord, my lady,” she said.
“Mrs. Flinters, this is Miss Elizabeth Vickers and her maid, Alice. Can you have the blue room readied? Miss Vickers, her maid, and their driver have been in a carriage accident and will be staying with us for a while,” the countess said.
“Of course, my lady.” The housekeeper smiled and directed the maid to follow her. “Come with me, child.”
Alice looked at Miss Vickers, who gave her an encouraging nod to go with Mrs. Flinters.
Gabriel knew that between Higgins and Flinters, they would do what needed to be done with their usual efficiency and kindness.
“Please, Miss Vickers, come warm yourself by the fire, and we’ll see you to your room soon,” his mother said in a gentle voice, taking the young woman by the hand and drawing her along.
Miss Vickers glanced at him over her shoulder, as though looking to him for guidance.
Something shifted inside his chest. Something he’d never felt before. “We’ll take care of everything, Miss Vickers. Please do not worry. You are safe.”
She nodded, and her lips curved up in a grateful smile. She regarded him a moment more with those luminous violet eyes. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered, then turned to go with his mother.
He blew out a deep breath, as though he’d been holding it. Perhaps he had.
Gabriel turned to Higgins. “Let’s see about this carriage…”