Page 40 of The Lovers
Quinn was relieved when a few hours later, a young doctor came to tell her that she could go home. She checked Quinn’s vital signs and took her blood pressure before signing the release.
“You’re coming back to mine, and I will brook no argument,” Gabe announced. “I will cook you a full English breakfast and make you watch TV until you’re comatose with boredom.”
“I’m comatose already, and you don’t know how to cook.”
“I can manage breakfast. Come.” Gabe put his arm protectively about Quinn’s shoulders, and she leaned against him. She was grateful that he hadn’t mentioned their last meeting. What she needed right now was a friend, and Gabe was intuitive enough to understand that and let the other matter drop for the time being. Quinn was sure that the reprieve was temporary; Gabe wasn’t the type of man to give up easily when he’d made up his mind to something.
“Gabe, I want to go home,” Quinn said as they got into his car. “I thank you for coming, but I think I’d just like to be alone for a little while. The intruders have been caught, so I’m in no danger.”
“All right,” Gabe replied, his tone cool. He didn’t appreciate being dismissed now that his services were no longer required. “I’ll take you home. Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll be fine. Really.”
Gabe nodded as he pulled out of the car park. He remained silent on the ride back to Quinn’s house and left as soon as he made sure that the house was in order and Quinn was able to lock the door behind him. Quinn leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, but Gabe took her by the shoulders and kissed her on the forehead in a fatherly fashion.
“Ring me if you need anything,” he said before walking away. Quinn watched him through the open door, deeply aware of the rigid set of his shoulders and purposeful gait. He was hurt, and she was to blame. Quinn briefly considered calling out to him and asking him to come back, but she really did want to be alone. Or at least with someone who wasn’t technically there. She wanted to be with Elise.
TWENTY-SEVEN
MARCH 1665
London, England
Elise took a shuddering breath as the boat glided toward the dock and came to a stop with a final splash of the oars. Her stomach heaved and she grabbed onto the sides of the boat and sucked in a breath of air in an effort to keep the bile from rising. This wasn’t the sickness that had plagued her nearly every morning for the past two weeks—this was despair. The ferryman gave her an expectant look, and she handed over a coin and carefully stepped ashore.
“Mind how ye go,” the man called after her, having noticed her pallor and unsteady gait. Elise gave him a wan smile, but he was already negotiating a new fare and forgot all about her.
It’d taken her nearly a fortnight to work up the courage to make this trip. Some part of her still hoped that things would miraculously work out, but she knew that was not possible. No matter how desperately she longed to get away and start a new life with Gavin, her conscience wouldn’t allow it. Gavin deserved better than this, and so did her child. How could she deny it its legacy and condemn it to a life of financial struggle and obscurity? Gavin and the child were innocent of any wrongdoing—it was she who was tainted by deceit, and it was she who had to put an end to the dream.
Elise walked away from the river, determined not to lose her resolve. It was a beautiful March morning. Spring was in the air, and the tang of the river mingled with the smell of loamy earth,reminding her of the garden at her parents’ house, where she used to sit on a bench on fine days and watch the Thames flow past. The sky was a pristine blue, and the sun, although still pale, now gave off some welcome warmth. The streets of Southwark bustled with activity, and no one paid any mind to a young woman walking alone. Elise decided that after her meeting with Gavin, she would go to her father’s house. She longed to see Amy and Anne, and although her father would chastise her for coming alone, without so much as a maidservant to accompany her, she was willing to brave his anger if it earned her half an hour with the girls. But it would be even better if her father happened to be away from home. The thought of seeing him left Elise seething with a bitter anger that she wasn’t accustomed to feeling toward her only living parent. She sighed with mounting misery. Today was going to be difficult, no matter what she encountered.
Elise approached Gavin’s house and knocked on the door. Something about the place looked forlorn, not like before when it seemed quaint and welcoming. The shutters were open, but the windows were covered with a layer of grime, and there was rubbish strewn on the step. Elise waited a few moments, but there was no answer, so she knocked again. Then she suddenly remembered that Gavin would be at the Tabard Inn. She’d come a little later today, and Gavin would have already left for work. Elise retraced her steps and walked toward the inn. The place was surprisingly quiet. She supposed that those staying at the inn were still abed, sleeping off the aftereffects of strong drink consumed the night before. Southwark was known for base entertainments such as bearbaiting, gambling, and whoring. The Tabard Inn was more respectable than most, but men were men, no matter their station in life. They liked their pleasures.
Elise stopped in the courtyard and looked around. There were several doors, and she had no idea where Gavin might be. A young girl stepped outside carrying a bucket of slops from thekitchen. She stopped when she saw Elise and set the heavy bucket on the ground, taking the opportunity to tuck an escaped curl back into her cap.
“Ye lost?” she asked in a friendly tone, probably hoping for a quick chat before returning to her duties.
“I’m looking for someone. Gavin Talbot.”
“Oh. Ye’d best speak to the landlord, then. He’s just through yonder.” The girl indicated a door to her left. “Doing ’is books, ’e is, so don’t ’xpect ’im to be in good ’umor.”
Elise thanked the girl and went in. She found herself in the taproom of the inn. It smelled of spilled ale and stale sweat. The polished bar gleamed in the dull sun streaming through the window, and rows upon rows of pewter tankards were lined on shelves behind the bar. The tables and chairs were all empty, save two. Two gentlemen sat in the corner drinking ale and partaking of a late breakfast of bread and cheese. They talked quietly but grew silent when they spotted Elise, their eyes drinking her in. One of the men gave her a welcoming smile, but she refused to meet his gaze and turned toward the other table.
A burly man sat alone, a ledger open in front of him and a quill suspended in his hand as he stared out the window thoughtfully. He wasn’t wearing a wig, and his bald pate shone in the light, the skin as pink as that of a newborn babe. His belly protruded against his coat, and his calves looked like melons in a pair of mustard-colored hose.
“Are ye looking for employment?” he asked when he saw her standing there. “Can ye cook? I’ve enough serving wenches already.” He opened his mouth to continue but seemed to realize that Elise was too finely dressed to be someone searching for a job in a tavern. The landlord leaned back in his chair, studying Elisewith undisguised curiosity as he waited to hear the purpose of her visit.
“No, sir. I’m looking for Gavin Talbot. He works here,” she replied timidly.
The man peered at her more closely. “Gavin, ye say? I hope ye’re not in the family way, ducks,” he added with a greasy smile. Elise balked. Why would he ask her that? Did Gavin have a reputation for getting girls with child?
The landlord pointed to a chair with his quill, inviting her to sit. Elise perched on the edge, her insides suddenly shaky. “Is Gavin here? I wish to speak to him.”
“Gavin left a week ago. Sailed for Virginia,” the man replied, watching her for a reaction.
“That can’t be right,” Elise protested. “He wasn’t due to sail until the beginning of April. That’s nearly two weeks away.”
The landlord shook his large head. “Aye, that was his original intention, but he met a lady, our Gavin.” The man looked at Elise with pity. “Had he promised ye something, ducky?”
