The Secret of Bell Cottage

Chapter Thirty - Gideon

Gideon felt rage bubble up inside him like a blazing inferno. How dare someone falsely report his supposed death to his father. Who would practice such cruelty?

"Who signed it?" He growled.

Sheila quickly scanned the page until she found the closing salute.

"Wentworth Farthington, Duke of Summerset." Her gaze returned to his face.

"But," Gideon started in surprise. "He is one of Father's set. The man has to be in his late sixties. He was never at Waterloo."

"He seems to be discussing some investments he shared with your father." Sheila searched the letter, reading through it quickly. "It's only in the closing that he mentions you. 'I was saddened to hear of your son being among the casualties at Waterloo. My youngest son was in the same regiment and witnessed young Montclair fall just before being wounded himself. May I extend our deepest sympathy and condolences."

In his mind's eye he could picture a young man, thin framed with the blonde locks and pale skin passed down from his Norman ancestors.

"Franklin," he nodded slowly, his thoughts going back to that day. "He was in my regiment. I recall seeing him charging through the mud just before I was shot."

Absently he rubbed his hand over the scar on his thigh, feeling the pain of the bullet ripping through his flesh. He had been lucky, according to the surgeon. The bullet had glanced across his leg, tearing muscle and skin but leaving tendons and bone untouched. He had suffered with a fever for some weeks which slowed his recovery but the Colonel's house where he had spent his convalescence had been ran by a very accommodating widow woman, who was more than happy to see to his every need.

"It is possible that he saw you fall then."

"He could very well have. I was fortunate that my Colonel's batman found me before the scavengers did and whisked me back to the Colonel's own residence." He frowned, clenching his hands into fists as he remembered the devastation and the waste. His tone turned bitter with the harsh memories. "Not many wounded were so fortunate. Most fell victim to the pitiless vultures who moved in after the battle to strip the dead and wounded alike of every possession. Even their uniforms. If any were lucky enough to survive they were loaded onto carts and trundled back to headquarters, where those butchers who called themselves doctors hacked off their limbs with rusty blades. Too many men died due to their incompetence."

He lost himself in the horrible past, living again the stench of gunpowder, the sharp sickening tang of blood and sweat. The screams of the men and animals as they fell into the mud and gave themselves up to the madness of war. So many lives sacrificed for one man's ego.

Slowly he became aware of the caress of soft, warm fingers covering his clenched hands. He shook off the sights and sounds of the past and focused on the woman seated beside him. She was leaning forward in her chair, her pale hands sliding over his tanned fingers. The box of letters was sitting on the side table, forgotten. Her sad gaze was filled with sympathy as she offered wordless comfort with her gentle touch.

Suddenly desperate for her, Gideon lunged. He grabbed her by the waist and yanked her onto his lap. Before she had time to do more than widen her eyes in surprise, he swooped in and captured those plump, delicious lips. He kissed her deeply, hoping to forget the icy horrors of the past in the warmth of her embrace. At first she simply allowed him his way but then she asserted herself, sliding her arms around his neck as she wriggled in his lap, trying to get closer. Her lush bottom rubbed across his stiffened manhood, making him groan with passionate desire. He wanted to lift her skirts and take her, right there and then. Only the idea that they were not alone kept him from acting on the impulse.

Carefully, he released her lips, lifting his head to gaze into those chocolate brown eyes. Right now they were almost black with desire. Gideon rolled his eyes heavenward with regret, wishing he could continue this unplanned seduction. He watched her blink in confused disappointment for a moment, waiting for her to regain some of her natural composure.

"Thank you." He stroked her cheek, tucking one of those delightfully wayward curls of hers behind her ear.

She smiled up at him a little hazily.

"What exactly are you thanking me for?" She asked playfully.

"For pulling me back from my memories of the horrors of war." He heaved a resigned sigh. "I wish I could forget them all."

She ran her fingers down his jaw to the dimple in his chin.

"You will never forget the atrocities you have witnessed. You can only try to set them aside and move on with your life." Her hand slid down his chest to rest over his heart and he covered her fingers with his own. "Those memories are a part of you now. They affect the manner in which you live your life, the decisions you make, your attitude and your choices. And I wouldn't want you to change one little bit."

He bent his head to capture her lips once more. This time the kiss was gentle and sweet and filled with gratitude and acceptance. When he lifted his head he smiled into her beloved face. Then he swatted playfully at her backside.

"Stop distracting me woman. There's work to be done." He chuckled at her indignant squawk as she hopped out of his lap and danced beyond his reach.

"Distracting you! Who grabbed whom?" She huffed, adjusting her skirts and patting her copper curls as she struggled to hold back the laughter he saw sparkling in her eyes.

"I will return later." He got to his feet and turned to the door. He was just about to turn the knob when her voice stopped him.

"Gideon."

When he glanced back he saw she had returned to the wooden box and was lifting out another sheet of paper.

"There is one more letter and it is addressed directly to you." She stood there waiting for his permission to read this last letter.

Gideon was suddenly torn with indecision. It could only be a farewell letter. He admitted to a certain curiosity. He wanted to know what his Father had to say to his supposedly deceased son and heir. On the other hand, he dreaded knowing how much of a disappointment he had been as a son. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly to steady himself. Then he returned to his chair and sat. He was certain he would need to be seated for this last farewell from his stern, distant parent.
Sheila also sat and when he silently nodded, she began to read.

"To Gideon, my one and only beloved son, I never expected you to pass on before me. A man should never have to see the day he survives his own child. I understand your grandfather's grief now, as I never could before.
When your mother died, I lost a part of myself. For the longest time it was as if I was existing in some sort of void. I could not find the impetus to care about any one or any thing. I thank God now, that your grandfather had the fortitude to take on your care. I don't understand where he got the strength. My world was shattered then and it is completely fractured now.
I am so sorry that I could not be a better parent. You needed me and I just couldn't function let alone expend the effort to raise a child. As you got older and your grandfather's health began to fail, I tried to breach the gap between us. I took you with me to teach you some of the duties of being a Viscount. I wanted to show you how much I cared but by then we were both so entrenched in our mutual roles, I could not see any way to break down the barriers between us.
Then your grandfather passed away and you announced your intentions to leave me. I panicked at the thought of never seeing you on God's green earth ever again. You wouldn't be deterred no matter what I said.
I wish now I could have been less demanding, autocratic despot, and more loving father. Perhaps then you would not have left me for the glory of war. I don't know how I will exist, alone here, without you, my beloved only son. In loving memory, I remain, your father, Godrick Montclair, Viscount Chesterton."