Chapter Twenty-Five #3
Gabriel had to fight to keep calm, when all he wanted to do was knock the fellow down and keep on hitting him until he was dead.
The depths of his own lust for violence took him by surprise.
That Mandeville should consider him a friend of Evesham’s was amusing, though.
Their shared time at Eton had been both brief and unpleasant, as Evesham had taken pleasure in bullying all the younger boys who’d crossed his path, including Gabriel.
Gabriel shook his head. “Not at all. I barely know your son. I am here today to see you. And, if she is here, your sister-in-law, the dowager countess.”
The man clearly hadn’t recognized Sidonie, which wasn’t surprising, and hadn’t even deigned to cast her a glance.
She must have changed a great deal since he last saw her and was wisely keeping her lovely eyes down, out of his sight.
In her position just behind Officer Whiteley, she seemed, in her dull clothing, to have melted into the background of the dark room. Only her nearly white hair stood out.
“My sister-in-law is in residence. What business do you have with her?”
Gabriel smiled. “All will be revealed if you can call her here.”
Mandeville’s eyes narrowed, but he still didn’t seem to have divined how close he was to ruin. He tugged on a bell rope, and the footman reappeared so swiftly it seemed likely he’d been just outside the door. “Can you ask the dowager countess to come down from her parlor, Thomas.”
He was about to see his mother. Not for the first time, either.
But for the first time while knowing who she was.
That he’d seen her at every ball he’d been to and not known who she was to him only increased his anger and made his aching heart begin to pound, and his skin prickled over with goose bumps.
Her parlor could not have been far away, for in a less than two minutes, she appeared.
He stared as though seeing her for the first time, taking in everything about her.
She looked very much as she had done when he’d briefly glimpsed her at Lady Radnor’s ball, standing talking to a group of other ladies who might have been her friends.
His glance had slid over her because he’d been searching for Phoebe, but she’d seen him and smiled, and he remembered her smile.
It had been kind and gentle, and oh so sad.
Had she smiled at him then because he reminded her of her lost son, or perhaps of her dead husband?
Or had it just been a polite gesture to a young man for whom she felt some kind of affinity but without knowing why?
She was of a little above average height with a heart-shaped face and deep-blue eyes. The same eyes he saw whenever he glanced in a mirror. Of course, he’d inherited her eyes. Could she not recognize herself in him? He longed for her to do that before he had to tell her the truth. Let her know him.
“Frederick,” she said, looking at her brother-in-law. There was about her a certain subservience, as though she knew she was living on his charity. “You needed me for something?”
Mandeville nodded. “We have visitors. Young Lord Gabriel Wycliff and Lady Phoebe Nicholson. It was they who requested your presence. I have no idea what for.” He sounded a little grumpy now, as if he was annoyed with having to humor his visitors.
Gabriel could not take his eyes off her.
The dowager’s gaze swept the room. She saw Officer Whiteley. “They have brought one of Mr. Fielding’s Men with them? Whatever for?” Her eyes moved on to Sidonie. “And…who is this?” Her voice held curiosity and wonder. She began to form a puzzled frown. “Wait. Do I know you?”
Sidonie stepped out from behind Officer Whiteley, and for the first time her face, and her eyes, became visible. “Yes, you do, milady.” Her voice was strong, despite her frail appearance, the accent noticeable.
“I’m sure you don’t, Barbara,” Mandeville said, in a hurry. “She’s some common woman from the street. Just look at her.” Was that panic in his voice? Had he recognized those unmistakeable eyes? He was no longer resting one hand elegantly against the mantle.
The dowager ignored him, her brow furrowed.
“No, Frederick, I believe I do…” Her voice trailed off.
“Héloise? You are her? The nursemaid who was suspected of having stolen my son?” Her voice rose.
She turned to Officer Whiteley. “You have brought her here to me, at last, to prove you have apprehended the person who stole my child and sent me the ransom note, which I paid? But then never returned my child?”
She turned back to Sidonie, her face flushed with anger. “I trusted you to care for my son. You betrayed that trust. What happened? Did you kill him? Tell me how he died before I have this officer drag you away to jail. You shall hang for this.”
“Are you sure you have this right?” Mandeville asked. He had the look of a man who would like to hurriedly exit the room and probably keep on running, only Officer Whiteley had positioned himself against the only door.
“I am certain who she is,” the dowager snapped. “The woman has not denied it to me. Answer my question, Héloise. What happened to my child?”
Sidonie drew herself up taller. “I am ashamed to admit my part in such a crime, milady. And I freely admit to having taken your child. But I did not kill him and he is not dead.” She caught Gabriel’s arm and pulled back his left sleeve. “See. He is returned to you, milady.”
The dowager looked at Gabriel’s wrist, her hand to her throat.
Then she raised her eyes and stared at him.
Blue met blue, hers brimming first with doubt, then astonishment, then recognition, and finally with love.
“You have the angel’s kiss…” She put out her hand and touched the birthmark.
“And now I look at you, I see my husband in you.”
“He has your eyes, milady,” Sidonie said.
The countess wetted her lips, tears sparkling in her own eyes. “You…you are truly my son?”
Gabriel nodded. His heart felt as though it was about to burst. “I am.” He could hardly get the words out. Tears that matched hers threatened to fall.
She held out her arms and he stepped into them.
She held him close, her hands on his back, his face against her shoulder, the warm scent of her enveloping him.
She was his mother. His real mother. And she loved him.
If he’d had a free hand, he would have wiped away the tears, but she had him fast, as though she never wanted to let him go again.
“Out of my way.” Mandeville’s order to Officer Whitely broke into the moment and the dowager released her hold on her son. Gabriel swiped his hand across his eyes to clear his tears.
Officer Whitely, well briefed on what had occurred twenty-three years ago, stood his ground, his billy club now held threateningly in his hands.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to come along with me, sir,” he said.
“I have reliable information that it was you who had your brother assassinated and his heir stolen, and that you intended to kill an innocent child.”
“Frederick?” The dowager’s voice held a nervous question. “It was you? All the time it was you? All these years when I’ve lived in your house as a poor relation? No, not your house. When you’ve been dishonestly living in my son’s house?”
Frederick’s eyes flashed with fury, but there was no escape. Officer Whiteley was getting out his handcuffs.
Phoebe nodded. “We have a lot we need to tell you, Lady Mandeville.”
Her future mother-in-law looked at her in surprise. “And where on earth do you come into this?”
Phoebe smiled. “It’s a long story.”