Page 54 of A Winter Scandal

Gabriel’s gaze flickered to the onlookers, and he frowned. “No, of course not. We’ll go downstairs. But I swear, if you are playing some sort of game here …”

“I don’t play games.” Rawdon closed the door to his room, then swung away and stormed down the stairs.

Gabriel and Thea followed him. The innkeeper was waiting for them at the door of the public room. “I know it’s not proper, your having to go in here, miss, but everyone’s gone, and the fire is still warm.”

“It’s perfectly all right,” Thea assured him.

The innkeeper bustled about, bringing glasses and a bottle of brandy to the table closest to the fire, where Lord Rawdon already stood waiting.

“Thank you, Hornsby.” Gabriel dismissed the innkeeper with a polite nod and waited until he had closed the door behind him before he turned to face Rawdon.

“I suggest we start by sitting down,” Thea said, on the theory that it required more effort for seated men to get into a brawl than ones who were standing. She took a seat herself at the table, and after a brief pause and an exchange of measuring looks, the men followed suit.

“I don’t have the boy,” Rawdon said flatly. “Of course I do not expect you to believe me or to believe that I am not the sort of person who would abduct a baby. But if you would think rationally, there is no reason for me to take that child.”

“You threatened to take him this afternoon at the Priory.”

Rawdon made an impatient gesture. “I said that only because you had irritated me beyond endurance, as usual. I had no intention of doing so. Why would I take him? He is not mine.”

“You have the gall to deny that he is yours?” Gabriel stiffened. “One need only have eyes to see the resemblance.”

“I am not the only man with blond hair and blue eyes.”

“Are you accusing my sister of being a trollop? Are you saying that she slept with other men?”

Rawdon shrugged lightly. “Obviously she slept with one other man.”

With a low growl, Gabriel jumped to his feet, knocking over his chair.

“Gabriel, no!” Thea threw herself at him, grabbing his arm.

Rawdon, too, rose, his blue eyes blazing with pale fire. “That is ever your answer, is it not? I am growing tired of your taking a swing at me every time some uncomfortable truth arises and slaps you in the face. Believe me, if that boy were mine, I would take him from you. I would never allow anyone of my blood to remain in your hands. But I would not sneak into your house and steal him like a thief in the night. I would take him openly, legally, in a court of law. There would be no reason to do it any other way. You must realize that a father would win that battle. But he is not my child.” He spoke slowly, each word falling with the thud of a hammer stroke. “And you are welcome to him.”

The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Then Gabriel let out a low oath and half turned away. Thea sank back down in her chair, suddenly empty and sick. Lord Rawdon’s words had the ring of truth. He was right in saying that a powerful and wealthy aristocratic father who claimed a child would likely win custody of a son in any court of law over the child’s uncle—or even over his mother, in all likelihood. And if Rawdon had taken Matthew, what had he done with him? The baby had obviously not been anywhere in the man’s room. Moreover, when she had looked more closely, she had seen that Rawdon’s gleaming Hessian boots did not bear a drop of melted snow or mud on them. Most telling of all, she had seen the blank astonishment in Lord Rawdon’s face when he had realized whom Gabriel was talking about. The man might be a villain and a liar, but she found it hard to believe he was that excellent an actor.

“But … then … who is it?” she asked, her words almost a moan. She looked up at Gabriel, who gazed back at her bleakly. “Who took Matthew?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t know. The person who left him at the church, perhaps?” He sat down heavily and leaned his elbows on the table, shoving one hand back into his hair.

Rawdon glanced at him sharply. “The person who left him at the church? What are you talking about? Surely Jocelyn brought the baby here.”

“No. I told you: Jocelyn is not here. I have not seen her.”

“I found the baby,” Thea explained. “He was abandoned by someone at the church—left in the manger.”

Rawdon’s brows rose at this news. “But then … how do you know the baby is Jocelyn’s?”

Silently Gabriel reached into his pocket and pulled out the brooch Thea had found on the infant and held it out toward Rawdon. Some sort of emotion flickered in Rawdon’s gaze and was gone too quickly for Thea to even identify it.

“Good God.”

Gabriel shook his head. “This is enough chatter. Clearly we are wasting time here.” He rose to his feet and began to button his coat. “We shall return to your house, Thea, and see if we can still find any tracks. Perhaps the snow will not have completely filled them in, and I can follow the abductor.”

Thea stood up.

“Wait,” Rawdon said. “I’ll get my coat and come with you.”

Gabriel turned to him, surprise clear on his face. “Why?”