Chapter Five #2
“Those aren’t the words,” she said aloud, moving down the hall as the two men burst into a hearty but somewhat unsteady refrain, as if they were weary or very drunk.
Love and joy come to all
And the stranger in your hall
Bring out the wassail bowl and see—
“Blast, I can’t think of the proper words,” said a man’s voice on the doorstep. Garrick.
Her heart seized, her hand half raised to open the door.
“How we’ll surprise you all,” said another voice, pleased with himself for the rhyme.
Madelina pushed open the door. “Constantin?” she croaked.
Her brother stood on the threshold, looking as if he’d aged five years in the months he’d been gone.
His hair was shaggy, his jaw showing cuts from a hasty shave.
The bones of his face stood out above a neckcloth flattened and stained from travel.
His suit was worn and fit him poorly, but he was here, alive, with all his limbs and faculties.
“Constantin!” she shrieked and threw her arms around him.
“’ullo, Lina.” He staggered backward under her weight, and she felt his thinness. “Steady on, old girl.”
Garrick caught them both and held her brother’s shoulders as Madelina straightened, peering into Constantin’s eyes. The haggard lines of her brother’s face eased into a smile.
“Where—when—how?” she stammered.
“Let me inside, goosecap, so I only have to say it once,” Constantin said.
Madelina pulled him indoors where he was met with a scream from Maman, who had come to the parlor door to see what the commotion was about. As everyone fell on Constantin, Madelina stood in the hallway, blocking Garrick’s path as he stepped inside and stripped off his hat.
He too looked worn and travel-stained, his neckcloth flat and limp, his coat and breeches creased, his boots dull with dirt. He hadn’t shaved as recently, and stubble shadowed his jaw. His hair was pulled back in a hasty queue, and he smelled of horse and mud and acrid smoke.
“I’m filthy,” he warned as she stepped close.
“You’re here.” She planted her palms to his cheeks and rose up on her toes to kiss him.
For one endless, agonizing moment he stood entirely still, as if he didn’t want her. Her first thought was that, if Garrick had decided he didn’t want her, she hoped lightning would strike and make her disappear.
Her second thought was that she would persuade him. She would use his own tricks on him if she must. She slid her tongue into his mouth, shamelessly, in the way he’d taught her, and that triggered him from his frozen state.
His arms swooped around her, hauling her roughly against him.
She didn’t care if he were crushing the lace along the neckline or the silk petticoat of her open robe.
Garrick was holding her and this, this, was all she wanted in the world.
His mouth fastened to hers as if he were starving and she the feast. He clasped one hand to the small of her back, above the padded rump filling out the back of her gown, and swept the other up over her bodice to cup her neck, holding her still for his ravishment.
A breathless moan escaped her, an invitation and a sigh of relief.
He broke away to take in air and leaned his forehead against hers while they both steadied their breath.
“This is the welcome I was hoping for,” he said quietly.
Madelina kissed him again. It was the only way she knew how to answer, to tell him what she now knew without a doubt, without an inkling of reservation. Knew to her bones, for now and forever. She was his.
And he was hers.
“How?” she whispered when they next surfaced for air. “How did you find him?”
“Let us join the others and hear his story.” He stripped off his riding gloves and tossed them on the table beside his hat, hung up his dusty cloak, then twined his fingers with hers as she led him to the parlor.
“A moment.” He paused in the doorway of the room that had become a swirling confection of sound and color and joyful cries as the family welcomed their prodigal son home. Garrick lifted his brows and nodded toward the kissing bough above their heads. “You owe me, don’t you recall? From Christmas.”
“Rogue,” Madeline murmured and drew his head down to hers.
She fell into his kiss and let everything else fall away.
All she required was Garrick’s solid shoulders beneath her hands, his warm weight holding her upright, his hands stroking her shoulders, her arms, the backs of her hands as if he could not get enough of touching her.
His warm mouth lit a fire that arced through her body like a falling star, lighting her up from the center.
There was no doubt left: only a simple truth. She loved him, and that was all.
The sudden silence pulled them apart. Constantin looked appalled.
“Must I call Warin out for that?”
“Oh, they’re to be married.” Maman waved a dismissive hand. “He took the title and proposed to your sister almost immediately. It’s as if he only needed means to support her before he made his suit.”
“My son could have his pick of women,” Agnes reminded her friend. “And has, actually.” The wassail bowl had clearly augmented Agnes’s natural frankness.
“But no one will love him like my daughter does,” Maman said firmly. She turned back to her son. “But why were you in prison?”
Constantin rubbed the back of his head, as if a spot there were tender.
“I was caught up in the Champs du Mars massacre in July. Lafayette and his National Guard thought I was one of those petitioning for a republic and the downfall of the king. There was a great deal of mistrust after the royal family tried to flee Paris and were caught at Varennes—”
“We know,” Madelina said. “Barty was making inquiries for us. He was very faithful about reporting news.”
Constantin shook his head. “Barty. Poor sap. I think he was trying to argue on my behalf, but he didn’t have important enough friends.
The members of the Assembly thought I was associated with the Cordeliers and didn’t want to allow Vallon’s coffers to fund the radicals’ cause.
I couldn’t persuade them I had thrown in my lot with the Girondins until Garrick stepped in. ”
Madelina, startled, let her gaze fly to Garrick’s face. He was watching her.
“But why should the new Lord Warin be able to influence your cause?” Maman demanded.
Constantin tipped his head in Garrick’s direction. “Because he has important friends.”
Maman, Agnes, Georgette, indeed everyone suddenly contemplated Garrick with a curious new respect.
“So I was right to search your desk,” Madeline murmured.
He smiled and squeezed her hand, which he held as if he never meant to let go.
“In future, I’ll tell you the truth, Mad. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I thought I had to keep secrets to keep you safe, but your brother, of all people, was the one to persuade me otherwise.”
Madelina pressed his fingers in return, her throat too narrow to admit air. He would talk to her. Confide in her. If he were honest with her, and she could trust him…that changed everything.
“And Vallon?” her father asked roughly. He beheld his son with brimming eyes, as if he didn’t yet trust the vision that had appeared in his house.
“Secure, Papa. Warin provided the support I needed for the committee to acknowledge my claim. They acknowledge I am not a traitor to France, that I support the constitutional monarchy and the Assembly, and I have official permission to travel to England to visit my relations, with the assurance that I will return.”
Silence hung in the room after this declaration. Constantin would be leaving them again, to return to France where it seemed danger was growing every day and the violence could sweep him up again.
The Vicomte embraced his son. “You are safe, and you have secured your inheritance. God bless you, my clever boy.”
“But how did Lord Warin manage all this in the span of a few days?” Madelina inquired.
Constantin grinned at his neighbor and friend.
“Rode like the devil to reach me. Didn’t stop but to change horses, I believe.
Dragged officials across Paris out of their bed at night, in Yuletide no less, to get the papers stamped.
Then, once he sprung me, turned around and we rode home like the devil was on our heels. ”
“Had a fair wind for the crossing to Calais,” Garrick said, “and then the wind turned and pushed us to Dover. Good fortune, both times.”
“Pact with a demon, I don’t doubt,” Constantin said. “But it worked to my favor, so I won’t complain.” He turned to embrace his aunt. “Tante Victorie. Want to return with me and see the old place? Rub elbows with your friend Marie Antoinette?”
“I won’t have a thing to do with that vicious harpy.
” Victoire sniffed and allowed her nephew to kiss her cheek.
“But it would be lovely to see Vallon again. I am so glad you saved it. And to hear Lord Warin was the one who restored you to us!” She blinked at Garrick as if seeing him with fresh eyes.
“I have always felt my eldest has a strong heroic streak about him,” Agnes said.
“I’d say he’s a rake on the way to redeeming himself,” Aunt Hermione said.
The Vicomte finally parted from his son to cross the room and extended his hand to Garrick.
“I admit I had my doubts about you,” the Vicomte said. “A worse roué than I was in my day. But if you intend to love and cherish my daughter, I give you my blessing on your union.”
Garrick bowed. “Thank you, sir. I will do my best to be worthy of her.”
“No one is worthy of my Madelina.” Her father leaned forward to brush a kiss across Madelina’s cheek.
“But if she has chosen to bestow upon you the great treasure of her heart, I believe you have sense enough to honor that prize. Tofty!” He turned to address the knot of servants all tearfully welcoming Constantin home.
“What does our King for the evening say about admitting a new character to the revelries?”