He was such a good baby. Never crying, never making a fuss that would oblige him to leave the room. Gabriel would cradle him in his arms and whisper soothing words. His son would close his fist around his finger, holding him tight, tethering Gabriel to him with chains of love more powerful than iron shackles.
Until he heard the nurse coming to take the baby to Hannah. Then he would slip into the secret corridors and make his way back to the folly, where he slept a few hours. Thakur would come in every other day with food and clean clothes. He had found that being around little Sam meant he needed clean clothes often. Babies were messy. But he didn’t mind soiled clothes. He wouldn’t change those moments with his son for all the world.
He rather thought that if he had to live here for an entire year, he could adapt. But how much longer until somebody discovered his presence? Not to mention that he was neglectinghis responsibilities at his own estate. He tried to do the best he could from here, but even now in winter, when the tasks were fewer, he was running Thakur ragged with the back and forth. Come spring, the situation would be unsustainable.
However, leaving his son’s side was not an option. He felt it in his bones: the need to protect him. Maybe it was time to have another conversation with Hannah. A month had passed. Maybe she would be more amenable to his proposal this time. He would have to broach the subject with her again. Even if the thought of another refusal made his heart recoil in pain.
He settled on the padded chair next to the crib as he did every night to stand vigil over his son’s sleep. Except that tonight, sleep was weighing heavily over him as well. He had not slept well this morning. There had been a heavy load of estate paperwork to deal with so that Thakur could take it back. The baby’s soft breaths lulled him, so he lowered his guard and fell asleep.
GABRIEL CAME AWAKEwith a start. It took him a second to get his bearings. When had he fallen asleep? What had woken him? And then he saw it. A tableau that froze the blood in his veins.
There, silhouetted against the faint moonlight filtering through the window, a shadowy figure loomed over his infant son’s crib, just a few steps away. This wasn’t Hannah or the nurse. The size and height indicated this was a man. And he was holding a lumpy bundle over the crib. A pillow? Gabriel’s brain analyzed the information in a fraction of a second. A surge of primal fury surged through him, propelling him forward. His instinct driving him into action even before his mind recognized the intruder.
Gabriel launched himself at Blackwell, knocking him away from the crib. They crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs, knocking over a small table, which clattered to the floor with a crash. Having had no warning, Blackwell let out a grunt of surprise that transformed into a snarl of rage.
The baby cried. The irate wail was the most beautiful sound Gabriel had ever heard. It meant his son was alive. He had been in time to stop the tragedy. If he had slept even a minute longer...
Gabriel shook his head, dislodging the terrible thought, and let his fists fly, striking with the efficiency and speed of a trained fighter. But Blackwell was no stranger to brawling. He wrestled back with brute force and pulled a gleaming knife from his coat.
The blade flashed in the moonlight, slicing through the air towards Gabriel. He rolled to a stand and evaded the strike with a swift dodge, feeling the cold rush of displaced air as the knife missed his face by mere inches. Blackwell’s eyes gleamed with malice as he lunged again. As Gabriel swerved out of the knife’s path, Blackwell changed directions, going towards the crib this time.
Time seemed to slow, lending Gabriel extra speed. He was in front of his son in an instant, blocking Blackwell’s attack, catching his wrist, and twisting it with a forceful snap.
“Let go of the knife, and maybe I’ll let you live,” Gabriel snarled.
It was a lie. He had no intention of allowing Blackwell to leave this room alive. The man was a rabid animal that needed to be put down if his son was ever going to be safe, but he needed to get the madman away from the crib.
Blackwell’s abrupt laugh was maniacal. “You think I’m a fool? I’ve not come all this way for nothing.”
“You won’t get out of here alive,” Gabriel promised, shoving him away from the crib and standing between Blackwell and the baby.
“You and your bastard are the only ones who won’t get out of here alive. I once got rid of the previous heir. I can do it again.”
“You! You killed the duke’s son?”
“Not directly,” Blackwell gloated. “I merely had to encourage his more reckless pursuits. Then it was just a matter of tampering with a wheel here, a rigging there...but he got into that phaeton accident all by himself.”
The blackguard’s obvious pride at the devastation he had caused sickened Gabriel. This rat had been lurking, shadowing the duke’s life for decades. He would put an end to it tonight. But he couldn’t fight freely with the baby in the room. Where was the nurse? Shouldn’t the noise and the baby’s cries have awakened her? Unless she had run for help...or Blackwell had dispensed with her.
Blackwell attacked again, no doubt believing he had the advantage because of the knife. In his arrogance and bloodthirst, he hadn’t recognized how outmatched he was. For a moment, both men grappled for control of the weapon, but Gabriel’s body moved with the seamless memory drilled into him during countless trainings, honed by years of fighting. He delivered a sharp elbow to Blackwell’s jaw, disorienting him, and followed up with a knee to the abdomen. With a final, determined push, swift and efficient, Gabriel wrenched the knife from Blackwell’s grasp. He was never more grateful for his time in the army that had prepared him for moments like this
Breathing heavily, Gabriel looked into Blackwell’s eyes—eyes filled with fear and hatred—and didn’t hesitate. With a powerful thrust, he drove the knife into Blackwell’s chest. Blackwell’s eyes widened in shock, a gurgled breath escaping his lips before he slumped to the floor, lifeless.
Gabriel stood over the fallen man, his chest heaving, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He turned to the crib, his fierce expression softening as he looked at his son. Hereached out to lift him, to comfort him as he had done many times. But he immediately checked his movement.
His hands were stained with blood.
Just at that moment, Hannah burst through the door, followed by the nursemaid and a footman.
Her eyes widened at the scene that met her eyes. But she didn’t pause for a second as she ran to the crib and gathered their crying son against her chest. Their eyes met over the baby’s head. A thousand questions reflected in Hannah’s eyes.
He had a lot to explain. And not only to her but also to the authorities that would no doubt have to be notified. But no matter what came his way, at last he was at peace. He could take whatever consequences resulted from his actions. The only thing that mattered was to protect his child at any cost.
CHAPTER 46
HANNAH HAD BECOME Alight sleeper ever since she had her baby. It was as if some motherly instinct remained attuned to her son’s needs. But even if she had been sound asleep, it would have been impossible to miss the great thud that had reverberated through the silent house. She had woken up with a start, her heart racing with fear that only increased as she ran to the nursery and heard the additional noises, the crashes, the wails of her son.
She had feared the baby’s crib had overturned. Had prayed for her son to be well. For the noises to have another source. But she had not been prepared for the sight that met her when she entered the nursery.
