Captive Of Sin Part 40

She cast him a quick, understanding smile. "Yes. Yet." She looked around the dark, cold pa.s.sage and shivered. Four villagers pa.s.sed them with respectful nods and began to organize the retrieval of Felix Farrell. "Let's get out of here."

"Capital notion." Akash stood back to let Gideon and Charis precede him. As Gideon pa.s.sed, Akash reached out to clasp his shoulder in a brief gesture of affection.

After the mine, daylight dazzled. Gideon placed a steadying hand on Charis's arm. The day was fine, and sun sparkled on puddles and dripping foliage. The air smelt fresh and clean. He sucked in a deep breath, savoring the sea's salt tang.

The scent of Penrhyn. The scent of home.

The crowd outside made him brace for the familiar sick haze. He felt Charis's loving concern as she slid her arm around his waist.

But when he surveyed the welcoming faces turned toward him, he was only aware of open sky and clear air, the breeze against his skin, Charis's enticing warmth pressed to his side.

Had his wife spoken more truly than she realized? Was he finally free?

The shock was too much.

He staggered. His sight narrowed to a single beam of light.

"Gideon, what is it?" Charis's hold tightened. As ever, her touch anch.o.r.ed him. His shaking arm twined around her slender shoulders, and he fought not to lean on her as his legs threatened to fold beneath him.

The wave of light-headedness pa.s.sed, leaving him lost, bewildered. What had happened? Since Rangapindhi he'd been unable to endure people around him. So many defense mechanisms had become second nature.

Yet today he needed none of them.

His whirling mind struggled to make sense of it all. Now he thought about it, the demons should have tormented him long before this. Yet they'd been remarkably silent. Felix and Hubert's kidnapping hadn't sparked an attack. Nor, more significantly, had captivity in the dark tunnel.

But he'd been blisteringly angry when they took him. With the brothers and more, with himself, for placing his wife in danger.

The anger had pa.s.sed, and still there were no screaming ghosts in his head. He stared at the villagers. He looked past them to Sir John Holland and the militia, surrounding a shackled Hubert. Then he sought and found the two men who had stood by him through so much. Tulliver watched expressionlessly from Akash's side. Akash's gaze as he surveyed Gideon and Charis was steady and unsurprised.

He knew the signs of Gideon's illness better than anyone. Gideon was sure he wouldn't have survived the worst attacks without Akash's arcane medical knowledge. What did his friend make of this abrupt change?

Then, with another shock, Gideon remembered that Akash had touched him without hesitation in the mine.

"You know, I think I'm all right," he said in a thick voice to Charis, who stared up at him with shining eyes. Did she too guess what had happened?

His dreams had been so humble yet so out of reach. Had heaven relented after all his pain? It seemed beyond belief.

"I need to talk to Hubert," Charis said quietly. "He shouldn't learn about Felix from a stranger."

"That's a consideration the cur hardly warrants," Gideon said grimly. She was so strong. If she hadn't been, she'd have given up on her husband weeks ago.

"Nevertheless, I must do it."

Reluctantly, Gideon released her, immediately missing her nearness. He watched as she crossed to where a chained and guarded Hubert waited in sullen, fulminating silence. Even with Hubert shackled, Gideon fought the illogical urge to drag her back into his arms, where she was safe. Would this instinct to protect her ever fade? Not while he breathed.

Across the open area, Hubert let loose a broken groan. The bulky brute swiftly went from surly resistance to utter collapse. Tears poured down his face. Charis said something, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He accepted her comfort, much as he didn't deserve it. Gideon felt another surge of admiration for his wife's generosity. If the decision were left to him, he'd let the b.a.s.t.a.r.d suffer.

Sir John approached, smiling, extending his hand. Dazed, Gideon returned the handshake. How simple the gesture was. Only a day ago, it would have been a painful ordeal.

"Sir Gideon, rum doings indeed. I can't say how pleased I am to find you unharmed."

"Thank you, Sir John." Astonishment and wonder still gripped Gideon. The change was too sudden for him to trust although with every minute, it became more likely that the impossible had occurred.

"I take it the other villain is incapacitated inside the mine?"

Gideon forced himself to concentrate on immediate matters. So difficult when unfamiliar happiness bubbled up like a new stream. He gave the magistrate a short recounting of events from when he'd discovered Charis in Winchester.

Akash joined them. When Gideon performed introductions, Sir John, to give him credit, displayed only a moment's confusion at meeting Akash Stamford, the new Viscount Cranbourne.

"What happens now?" Gideon kept an eye on Charis and the distraught Hubert.

"We'll take Lord Burkett to London for trial. You'll likely be called to appear." Sir John looked tired and troubled. "I can't see him escaping the noose. If you'll come with me now, we can..."

Akash smoothly interrupted. "I'll start the formalities. Sir Gideon was held overnight. His lady has ridden through a storm and managed no sleep since. Let the Trevithicks go home."

Looking abashed, Sir John cleared his throat and nodded. "Of course. Wasn't thinking. Nothing that can't wait. Appreciate your cooperation, my lord."

The Penrhyn men emerged from the mine, holding an unmoving, black-coated body. Gideon saw at a glance there was no hope for Felix. He met Charis's gaze across the clearing and shook his head. She nodded but remained dry-eyed. Hubert's painful, choked sobs intensified as the villagers carried Felix's limp form past him.

With each moment, Gideon became easier in his skin. He moved among the local men, thanking them. n.o.body needed to tell him they'd braved the storm to find him. Hard to believe it had taken him twenty-five years to recognize the unbreakable bonds that tied him to this land and its people.

Tulliver came up, leading Khan. One mount for two riders, the sly dog. With a word of thanks, Gideon took the reins and rubbed the horse's nose in greeting. He'd missed the spirited thoroughbred over the last weeks.

With his usual impa.s.sivity, Tulliver handed over the coat he carried under his arm. "Here you are, guvnor. Thought you might need some extra covering"

Gratefully, Gideon pulled the garment over his ragged shirt. He must look a ruffian. He badly needed a bath and a change of clothes. He needed a shave and a hot meal. More than anything, he needed time alone with his wife. With relief, he watched Charis move away from Hubert and approach Sir John.

He turned his attention to Tulliver. Akash wasn't the only one who deserved his undying grat.i.tude. "I appreciate it. Just as I appreciate your rushing to my rescue today."

"I'm honored to serve you, sir." Tulliver's eyes held a hint of uncharacteristic softness. "Always have been. And I reckon grat.i.tude goes both ways. You won't recall, but I was one of the soldiers who pulled you out of that pit in Rangapindhi, more dead than alive."

Astonishment gripped Gideon at this revelation. "By G.o.d, I never knew."

"My last a.s.signment for the Company. Those heathens we locked up after the invasion talked like you was a G.o.d. They'd never seen such grit. Nothing they done could break you." Tulliver's voice deepened with feeling. "You kept your mouth shut and saved me and my chums from a bloodbath. When I heard you sailed home on the same packet as me, I set myself to enter your service."

Gideon tried to remember the exact moment he'd offered Tulliver a place. The details were hazy. When he'd been delirious with fever on the ship, Tulliver had turned up to help, and he'd been around ever since. Capable, resourceful, taciturn. In fact, that was the longest speech Gideon had ever heard the man make.

"I haven't been an easy master," he said with difficulty.

"Maybe not always, lad, but I knew you'd come right, given time and incentive. Gold always rings true."

Gideon swallowed a lump of emotion. He owed this man more than he could ever repay. "You know you've always got a home at Penrhyn." Shabby return for the selfless devotion.

Tulliver's wry smile appeared. "Aye, guvnor. I'd counted on that and all. A nice quiet life by the seaside in my old age suits me down to the ground. Although it's not exactly been quiet so far."

Gideon laughed with a lightheartedness he couldn't remember feeling for years and clapped Tulliver on the back. Another natural gesture unthinkable yesterday.

His pulse racing with a mixture of antic.i.p.ation and trepidation, Gideon led Khan up to Charis. He felt like a nervous schoolboy. Absurd after all he'd been through with her. But recent events had created a new map between them, and he wasn't yet sure how to navigate it.

"I should get you back to Penrhyn." Before she could object, he caught her by the supple waist and tossed her up onto Khan's back.

She laughed breathlessly and found her balance with the confidence of a natural horsewoman. "Apparently I have no say in the matter."

"None at all." He ignored her startled eyes and turned to shake Sir John's hand again. "Come by the house tomorrow, and we'll sort everything out."

"I wish you good day, Sir Gideon, Lady Charis." The man's eyes held a spark of amus.e.m.e.nt. Obviously, he hadn't forgotten what it was to be young and newly married.

Gideon shoved one booted foot in the stirrup and flung his other leg across the saddle. The high-strung horse danced under the double weight, but Gideon quickly brought him under control.

Charis sat across the front of the saddle, her back against Gideon's arm, her skirts cascading down Khan's side. He relished her sweet warmth. She wasn't wearing a hat, and strands of soft bronze hair tickled his chin.

Raising a hand to Akash, who watched them with a faint smile, Gideon urged Khan to a canter along the path to Penrhyn.

"That was high-handed," Charis said in a neutral voice once they were away from the crowd. Gideon noted she made no great effort to wriggle away. No effort at all, really.

He laughed and tightened his hold on her. "Black Jack lives in my veins, remember?"

He slowed Khan to a walk. The need to get back to the house and confirm she was his in the most basic way was a fever in his blood. But he wasn't a barbarian, much as he felt like one right now. They had to talk before he tumbled her into his bed.

She turned her face toward his. Her expression was unexpectedly grave. "Does all this mean you no longer want to send me away?"

Uncomfortable heat crawled up the back of his neck. "I never wanted to send you away."

"Nevertheless that was-is-your plan."

She wasn't letting him wriggle out of this. He knew he had to lay his heart before her like a tribute before a despotic queen. Good G.o.d, he owed it to her, after acting such a self-righteous clodpole.

"That's something we need to discuss."

She arched her eyebrows. Suddenly the grande dame. "Oh?"

"I think...I believe...I hope..."

He stopped. d.a.m.n, he made a hash of this. Drawing a deep breath, he strove to present his case with a modic.u.m of address. "I seem to have overcome my...problem." At least it was a complete sentence, even if he stumbled over the last word.

He'd never settled on how to describe the creeping horror that suffocated him when the ghosts of Rangapindhi howled. In his mind, he'd always called his affliction the demons, but that seemed too melodramatic a description in the clear light of day.

Charis's eyes were unwavering. "I know."

He made a frustrated sound deep in his throat. "Curse you, you don't sound very pleased."

"Of course I'm pleased."

"Or surprised." He spoke over the top of her declaration.

"You forget I saw you in the mine. I've never beheld a man more in control of himself or circ.u.mstances. Even bound as you were." Her voice softened. "What happened, Gideon?"

"It's hard to explain." He paused, seeking the words. "It goes back to learning to touch you. That changed the world for me."

"And after all that, I nearly lost you when you handed yourself over to my stepbrothers." He couldn't mistake the anger in her voice or the furious gold sparks in her eyes.

"I'd die to keep you safe." He spoke from the depths of his heart. "You know that."

"Yet you say you're not a hero," she said bitterly.

"I'm just a man, Charis. But protecting you is part of who I am. You can't ask me to change that. I couldn't, even if I wanted to." His voice lowered to persuasion. "Come, sweetheart, let's make peace."

"I suppose I'll forgive you." There was a misty light in her eyes as she surveyed him. "Eventually."

The time had come. His gut clenched with nerves as he realized his happiness depended on the next few minutes. She wouldn't call him a hero if she knew the sheer unadulterated terror that closed his throat. He meant to offer her everything he was and everything he had. If she refused him, she'd cast him into darkness again.

"Walk with me. It's not far to the house." Over the next rise, they'd see the sea and Penrhyn. Home.

He drew Khan to a halt, slid to the ground, and lifted her down. His hands lingered at her slim waist, and again he fought the impulse to kiss her. They must settle everything first. Then, G.o.d help her, she'd spend the next week naked in his bed.

h.e.l.l, the next month.

They fell into step on the pale winter gra.s.s. The sun shone warm on his head, bright promise of a new spring.

For a few moments, they walked shoulder to shoulder, him leading a placid Khan. Gideon tugged off his gloves and grabbed her hand. He'd tried to resist touching her, but it was impossible. The memory of her, her voice, her face, her sweetness, were all that had sustained him through the long, dark night of captivity. He needed to have her near more than he needed air to breathe.

Her fingers twined around his bare scarred hand with a welcome that made his heart stumble to a lovesick halt. Despite his hunger for her, he found himself reluctant to shatter this sweet idyll. There had been so much strife and anguish between them, this serenity seemed a benediction.

Typically, Charis was the one to confront all that lay unspoken. "Gideon, what happened at the mine?"

"I found myself again." It was as close to the truth as he could manage. "You changed me. The memory of you kept me from losing my mind. And as the night went on, I discovered the dark was just the dark and people just people. The wild fancies of my imagination...vanished." He put a vague thought into words. It was as good an explanation as any for the glorious change that had overtaken him. "A miracle."

"No." Her voice sounded husky as it always did when she succ.u.mbed to deep emotion. "It's no miracle. Your own courage brought you clear of the storm. You faced your horrors when you surrendered yourself to my stepbrothers for my sake."

Was she right? Would he ever know? It didn't matter why he'd changed. What mattered was he had changed. "And being tied up in a mine gave me ample time for reflection."

Charis released a spurt of unwilling laughter. "You sound like you recommend a period of incarceration."

He gave a dismissive huff. "I wouldn't go that far." He sobered. He floundered for an explanation that made sense. Difficult, when none of it made sense to him. "I have to live with what happened in Rangapindhi. It wasn't my fault my colleagues died..."

"But your conscience lacerated you because you couldn't save them. It's that overdeveloped protective instinct again."

"I despised myself for living when they died."

The words hung stark in the air. Her hand tightened around his. The silent communication crushed the seeds of self-hatred still lurking in his heart. Her voice vibrated with sincerity. "My love, if you hadn't lived, you couldn't have saved me. The workings of destiny are mysterious."

Her words echoed the odd moment of perception last night where he'd struggled to view himself as an outsider would. When he'd felt the shades of Parsons and Gerard hover uncannily close in the thick darkness, so reminiscent of the pit where his friends had died.

He'd always imagined his colleagues must hate him from beyond the grave for living when they'd perished in pain and humiliation. But the spirits that kept him company through the long hours of blackness in the mine had been benign, not angry at all. Ever since Rangapindhi, he'd remembered them as gruesome specters. Last night they'd visited him as they'd been in life. Fine, brave men who had sacrificed everything for duty.

Only then, blessed by his dead colleagues at last, had Gideon taken the most terrifying step of all.

He'd contemplated establishing a life at Penrhyn with Charis and, G.o.d willing, children. Trevithicks to fill the rambling old house with laughter and chaos and love. That hope had sustained him through the darkness and the violence and the incarceration. He wanted to build on the love that already grew between him and Charis and stoke it into a blazing, endless fire to light his days.