Page 70 of Lord Gabriel’s Undoing

“Go on,” Madame Brunet grumbled.

Sidonie swallowed. “The handsome milord, he was set upon one night by footpads when he was returning to their grand house. They robbed and killed him with their knives. The milady was distraught. She could not be comforted and refused to leave her chamber, even her little son unable to bestir her.” She licked her lips. “And then my own milord told me what my true task was.” She stopped, one hand coming up to wipe another tear from her eye.

“He told me I was to take the baby and we would demand a ransom for his return, for he was an important baby and his rich mother would pay much money to get him back safely.”

Gabriel’s hand gripped Phoebe’s so tightly now she thought he might break the bones.

“And you did it?” she asked, anger rising in her heart, and unable to keep the accusation out of her voice. “You stole that poor lady’s baby while she was mourning for her murdered husband?”

Sidonie hung her head. “I did, milady. I can offer no excuses. I did it for love of my milord, for I believed what he’d told me, that we would get much money and use it to buy me a house and gowns and he would always love me.” She paused. “He could not marry me, you see, because he already had a wife.”

“But what were you running from in Soho Square?” Phoebe asked.

Sidonie heaved a deep sigh and pressed her lips together. “He lied to me.” Her words fell heavily on the silent room.

“Men always lie,” observed Madame Brunet. “It is in their nature.”

“What was the lie?” Phoebe asked.

“He had no intention of ransoming the baby. He ordered his men to kill the child.”

Gabriel started as though in shock and spoke for the first time, his voice hoarse. “Someone wanted to kill me when I was just a baby?”

Sidonie nodded. “I overheard them talking. I’d had care of the baby for months, and he was a sweet-natured, easy child. He was a little, defenseless baby. Naturally, I’d come to love him. I couldn’t stand by and watch someone kill him, even if it was at the order of my lover.” She paused and licked her chapped lips. “And it caused me to see him for what he was. An evil man who had lured me into his trap only so he could kill a little baby. A man who could do such a deed I could never love. So I ran.” She glanced at Gabriel, whose brows had lowered into a furious scowl. “My hope was to find my way back to the milady and return her baby to her. To leave him at the kitchen door of the big house where the servants would find him. But I was followed, and I didn’t have the chance.”

“You were fleeing from him and his men when you met the duchess?” Phoebe asked.

Sidonie nodded. “The fine lady with the carriage was a duchess?”

It was suddenly clear in Phoebe’s mind as she nodded in reply. “You refused her offer to help both of you because you feared punishment for having taken the child from his real mother. For having taken Gabriel.”

Sidonie nodded again. “I did. But I could see God had put this kind lady and her carriage in my way on purpose. I put the baby in her arms and asked her to take care of him. I knew she would. And I ran.” The ghost of a smile showed on her face. “I could run much faster by myself, and I could hide in the shadows where no one could see me without fear of a cry from the baby giving me away. They didn’t catch me.”

“What about your milord?” Phoebe asked. “Did you go back to him?”

Sidonie shook her head with vehemence. “I did not. As I said, I knew him now as a man who wished to kill a little baby. I could not love him after that. He is as bad as the pigs in France who cut off the heads of our king and queen and my father and all those other people. They let the little dauphin starve to death. He is like them, a man who could kill a child. I wished never to see him again. I could not be with him, ever.”

Well, that was one thing in her favor. Phoebe had been growing increasingly worried as the disclosures mounted up, but this woman was nowhere near as sinister as she’d first thought. She’d saved Gabriel’s life, and for that she must never be pilloried. She wasn’t quite sure Gabriel would feel the same way, though. She had, after all, deprived him of his real mother.

He shifted beside her, sitting up straighter and leaning forwards. But he still held onto her hand. “So, who were my real parents?”

Phoebe stiffened. The important, loaded question.

He fixed Sidonie with a gaze that could only be described as hopeful. “What is the name of the family you worked for? The family from whom you stole their only child. From whom you stole me.” His tone was accusing.

Sidonie shrank into herself. “Votre papa, he was the Earl of Mandeville, your mother his countess.”

Phoebe couldn’t prevent her jaw from dropping, and had to close it with a snap. “Gabriel’s father was the Earl of Mandeville?” The gentleman in question appeared to have been struck dumb with shock.

Sidonie gave a nod. “As happens in France, the baby inherited the title after the death of his father.” She looked back at Gabriel. “Milord, I am thinking that you yourself must still be the present Earl of Mandeville. I think there can be no other but you.”

The only thing that seemed to have stuck in Phoebe’s head was that Gabriel was an earl and not a child from the gutter. Which earl didn’t matter. He might not be the second son of a duke, but he was an earl instead, and that was far better because now they were both equal. They could marry, and Aunt Fanny couldn’t object. Perhaps she was being selfish, but this seemed to her to be the most important thing that had been said.

But Gabriel had fixated on something else. He released his hold on Phoebe’s hand and reached out to catch one of Sidonie’s bony hands in his own. “So, tell me who it was ordered my death, madame. I need to know his name. Tell me who your heartless lover was.”

Sidonie made no attempt to snatch her hand back. Instead, she stared into his eyes. “You are very like your papa,” she whispered. “But you are nothing like your uncle.”

“My uncle?”