Page 100 of Notorious

He paused, took a deep breath, and sighed heavily. “I was there—right before the siege and right after.”

“But—but—wasn’t that dangerous?” She shook her head, as if trying to shake away cobwebs. “Didn’t the navy go with the intention of taking the city—as they had done in Algiers? Why would you be there? How did that happen?”

His expression was beyond bleak. “I was there because I am the one who told the navy how to seize my brother. I also told them where to fire the bombs if they could not capture him.”

Chapter 21

Gabriel had known that this day would eventually come. He could not keep his past a secret from Drusilla forever—not when they were both trying to make a life together. But this was his greatest shame and he was about to lay himself bare before her. He could not avoid his past forever—nor did he wish to.

Yet still he hesitated, considering what he was about to disclose. The regret, sadness, and loss that rose inside him every time he thought about his brother’s death did not fade, no matter how often he told himself he’d sacrificed Assad to save hundreds, if not thousands, of others.

But regrets were pointless and they certainly had no place in this new life he’d chosen.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel. I shouldn’t pry. You needn’t tell me any—”

He gave her a swift kiss on the lips, stopping her words. “Yes, Drusilla, I do need to tell you this. You are my wife.”

She swallowed audibly, but nodded.

“During my last term at Oxford I was summoned to London. Lord Admiral Singleton wished to speak to me about my knowledge of Oran—specifically about my father’s palace.”

Gabriel had been speechless and furious at the man’s audacity—at what he expected from Gabriel—until he’d explained the alternative.

He glanced at Drusilla, who was watching him with an expression of concern. He smiled and took her hand. “I won’t go into the two weeks that followed. Suffice it to say he explained what the Royal Navy was planning, how many casualties there’d been in Algiers, and how I could make a difference in Oran.” He stroked the soft skin on the back of her hand with his thumb, recalling Singleton’s final argument—the one that had made his decision for him.

“You have family in that palace, Marlington,” the dignified older man had all but shouted at him. They’d been in his offices at Whitehall. Though Singleton hadn’t sent armed men to bring Gabriel to London, he’d certainly made no secret of his willingness to do so. As a result, Gabriel had gone when summoned.

“I cannot betray them by sharing the details of their home—of their defenses and their city. Would you give such details to men who wished to bombard your family home, Admiral?”

“It is because we do not wish to bomb Oran that we are asking for your help.” He’d leaned across the massive expanse of his desk, his pale blue eyes hard. “You know what happened in Algiers—it was a bloody slaughter. You can stop the same thing from happening in Oran. Do you know how many casualties there—”

“Yes,” Gabriel said through clenched jaws. “Thousands.”

“We don’t even know the full extent of the losses suffered by the Regency of Algiers. And those losses were senseless—the dey accepted our terms. He could have spared his people the—”

Gabriel raised a hand. “Enough, Admiral. Enough.” His sense of dread had almost made him ill, but he’d looked the older man in the eyes. “Tell me what it is you would have me do.”

“Gabriel?”

He blinked at the sound of his name and looked at Drusilla. “I apologize,” he said to his wide-eyed wife. “I’m afraid I was—”

She lifted their joined hands to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. “You don’t need to apologize. I can’t even imagine how terrible that was for you.” She shook her head. “But whatever you told them, it must have helped? There was very little said in the newspapers about the whole affair. But I recall there wasn’t much loss of life—nothing like Algiers.”

“That is true. Thousands died in Algiers. In Oran, twenty-three people died that day: twenty of my brother’s people, and three Englishmen.” He looked at her. “Three of those twenty were my brother, Fatima, and their daughter. Most of the others who were killed during the fighting were their personal guards. I led them into the palace, Drusilla. Me—I’m the one who led them to kill my brother and the others.”

Two tears slid down her cheeks. “That must have been dreadful—I cannot imagine how terrible. But you saved so many, Gabriel. You saved Samir.”

That was the one thing that gave him comfort. Not only had he stopped a bombardment that would have killed far more than twenty-three people, he’d been on hand when they’d discovered Samir crouched in a cupboard, terrified and alone.

“Because all the family had fled for their lives, I took Samir. I sent men searching for any remaining relatives. Thus far I’ve received word that a few of his aunts are alive.” He turned to Drusilla and kissed each cheek, his lips lightly brushing the damp trail of tears. “I’ve been lying to myself. None of his mother’s family will take him—it would not be safe for him or them. Part of me has always known I cannot send him back to our people. As Assad’s son, he would always be in danger. And if the truth were ever known—that he might be my son—that would be a death sentence for him.” He kissed the tip of her nose and gave her a sad smile. “Don’t cry, Drusilla.”

She gave a loud sniff and wiped the back of her hand across her cheek. “But it is a dreadful situation. I know the problems you face here—the prejudice, ignorance, intolerance. Just look at Visel and what he—”

“Shhh.” This time he kissed her lips. When he pulled away, he shook his head. “We will make sure Samir has all the love and family that was taken from him.”

He paused, waiting until she nodded before continuing. “When I returned home, I found a letter waiting for me. I don’t know how she managed it, but Fatima must have sent it before matters became so bad. In the letter she told me her parents knew about Samir’s questionable parentage.”

“My God! How?”