Free Kissed by Shadows by Jane Feather Page A

dark swift currents of the River Thames. There were many ways to end his existence.
    But he didn't want to die. And maybe his death would be futile. Alive perhaps, just perhaps, he could find a way to protect those he loved from the consequences of his own cowardice.
    His love for Gabriel was greater than the sum of all his emotions, it tore at him, it filled him, it made him weep and shout aloud for joy. But he loved Pippa too, in a different way. His affection for his wife had grown over the months they'd been together. It had always been edged with guilt. She did not know, how could she, that she was a protective foil. He had tried to be a good and loving husband, careful and considerate. But when the fabric of his elaborate construction had been ripped asunder, he could hardly bear to be in the same chamber with her. His shame was unendurable, the hideous shame of those dreadful nights in the antechamber before they brought her out to him. . . .
    A cold sweat broke out on his brow and he staggered sideways against the wall. In the shadow of a pillar he retched miserably. He could not go on with this. To behave with his wife as if all was as it should be. He could no longer endure to talk with her, smile at her, be close to her. He could not endure to lie beside her, hearing her sleeping innocent breath as he writhed in the torment of his betrayal.
    He had to find a way out of this. Out of this marriage that so wronged his wife. A way to be with Gabriel in truth and honesty.

Five

    “I think you will find the mare a suitable mount, Luisa.” Lionel regarded his purchase with a touch of complacency. The animal was a graceful beast, well-mannered, a perfect lady's horse.
    Luisa's smile was radiant. “Oh, she's beautiful, Don Ashton. I don't know how to thank you.”
    “You may thank me by enjoying her and not badgering me to take you to court,” he suggested dryly.
    Luisa flushed a little. “I do not mean to badger you, sir, indeed I don't. I know that you're busy with affairs of state. And yet you found time to buy me this lovely horse. I am very grateful.” She turned her smile on him and Lionel was startled by its effect. Luisa was no longer the little girl he had persisted in thinking her.
    He shook his head in an unconscious gesture to dispel the charm of a smile that had no place between guardian and ward. “This is Malcolm, your groom,” he said, gesturing to the muscular man of middle age who held the horse's bridle.
    Malcolm touched his forelock. “My lady,” he said gruffly.
    Luisa treated him to the full force of her smile, hiding her slight dismay. Malcolm did not look as if he could be easily managed. He was no ordinary groom. There was something about his carriage, his air of watchfulness, the rough-and-ready cutlass he wore at his belt, that spoke more of a bodyguard than a groom.
    “I'm sure we shall deal very well together, Malcolm,” she said brightly.
    “Aye, m'lady.”
    “What are you going to call the mare?” inquired Lionel.
    “Crema,” she said without hesitation. “Does she not have that color?”
    Lionel agreed that she did. “I have acquired a small barge for you. It has no housing and can be handled by only two oarsmen, so 'tis nothing very elaborate, but it will be quite adequate for short river journeys under fair skies. It will be brought to the water steps tomorrow.”
    “You are very kind, sir.”
    He raised a quizzical eyebrow. “But you would still prefer to be at court?”
    “I will not plague you any further, Don Ashton,” Luisa replied demurely.
    He laughed, not fooled for a minute. “Well, I have an engagement so I must leave you now, but enjoy your ride on Crema.”
    Luisa walked all around the mare, examining her from every angle. “She is lovely, isn't she, Malcolm?”
    “Aye, m'lady. And very good-tempered.”
    “High-spirited?” inquired Luisa, gazing thoughtfully at the horse.
    “Well-schooled.”
    “I like a degree of spirit in my mounts,” she