Devil of Gilding

By December Knight and Patrisha Colombo

Despite their troubled past, the Blake family have found their own kind of perfect. James, a nobleman, and his less than reputable brother Clemit discovered something to live for in James's son, Toby. When jealousy enters their lives in the form of a new personality, all hell breaks loose. 

In a single instant, all of their lives

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roaming Pig Publishing
• Release date: Apr 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9780996991056

Book preview

Chapter 1

Adamp fire lit the dusk-filled room, casting a long beam of light onto the elegant baroque, rococo bed. The glazed eyes of the woman who lay pale and trembling under the soft white covers looked with a loving smile at the small baby who slept peacefully just beyond her reach. He was her greatest work of art He was a perfect masterpiece. Her artists’ eye took in all of him down to the smallest detail. Twenty-three hours of hard, painful labor, thirty-six weeks of waiting, and he was worth it all - all the pain, all the tears, all the worry.

She could have lost herself in his sleeping face had she not been called away when the doors, which led to the hall, opened and a man of about twenty-four stood within the beam of light that flooded from the world beyond. She extended her quivering arms to him, her angelic face alight with love and tenderness. The young man spared no time but went to her at once taking her hands in his own giving each a soft kiss. He tried to form a soft smile as he gently sat on the bed beside her.

Could you have ever imagined it James, a boy.

He had only left an hour before, yet upon his return, her face had already plummeted several shades. His strong hand stroked her soft, delicate cheek. He is a beautiful, healthy boy, but tell me, my love, how are you feeling?

Her smile cooled a little at the query rejuvenating only when her eyes returned to her son’s face. I want to call him Tobias, Toby for short. What do you think my dear? Is it not perfect, has God not shown His goodness to us in giving us a son?

James’s heart sank. She didn’t have to answer he could feel it in her hands, see it in her beautiful face, and he could tell she was aware that he knew. Questions were useless now. He managed to find words suppressing his feelings enough to smile and say, Yes, it’s a perfect name.

Tobias James Blake. She whispered his name slowly, sweetly as though it were the living water itself slipping across her tongue, bringing with it the feeling of new life. May Christ be with my masterpiece every day of his life, my only sweet precious child.

Her eyes closed, her face contorted. She gripped James’s hand, which was still in her own, squeezing it tightly as a waterfall of unending pain flowed over her. He gripped hers in return helpless to do anything but keep a hold on her frail, thin fingers.

Doctor!? James called into the thick air finding it odd how muffled his words sounded, how weak.

No, no I’m fine. His wife’s grip relaxed as the pain ebbed.

Please Leah, let Dr. Sail give you something for the pain.

No, James no, I want to have my last moments clear. Anything he gives me will just make me tired. Besides my Dearest, the pain is worth it if I can have but a few more moments with you and with our son. The corners of Leah’s lips flexed as though to regain the smile that had been there only seconds ago, but no matter how she tried her mouth only shuddered and settled into a relaxed pale pink line.

Don’t be silly my love. You are going to get better.

Tears formed in the corners of her jade green eyes. Freeing one of her quivering hands from his grasp, she rested her slight fingers on his rough cheek. He hadn’t shaved, she thought, how worried he must be. Even so I am glad I am not leaving you alone. I was so worried we wouldn’t make it, but our boy was strong like his father. I don’t know why I ever doubted. I am truly blessed.

James’s muddy brown eyes looked at her so desperately that Leah’s heart seemed to become a burden she almost couldn’t bear. Leah, you’re going to get better. I know how hard it is to see right now, but you will.

She kept his gaze seeing there the strange spark she had perceived the day she had first met his sad eyes. That precious day seemed so long ago, yet all too close. She couldn’t help how much she loved him, not then and not now. The stubble on his cheeks prickled against her thumb. Her tears slid free gliding down her perfect flushed cheeks dripping into her hair.

In a voice hardly audible she breathed, Stay with me, my Heart.

Retrieving her hand from his face, he kissed her fingers holding them to his lips longer than he ever had. I wouldn’t leave you for the world, my love, not for the world.

~

A dream… That was what it had to have been, nothing more than a dream. It was impossible that any of it could have existed… that day the sun was shining too bright… the breeze was too sweet… and she… she couldn’t have been real… everything about her was too perfect. James could see her standing in the archway of the garden wall with her jade eyes staring out, a smooth finger scooping a single sunny curl behind one of her ears.

James had often thought if she hadn’t stumbled as he was walking toward the villa he would never have been brave enough to go to her. Had Leah not lost her footing and sprained her ankle he would never have diverted from his path toward the door. He would never have looked directly into her eyes and found there all that he was looking for… all that he ever desired. He would never have found something he had lost… the will to live.

James held her hands as she cringed and pulled up with the help of his support. Leah gasped, but never screamed, too afraid that they would take her child if she dared to utter a shrill sound. Her eyes would look at her husband and then move to their sleeping son as though in her pain she wanted to see that all that was hers was close. She relaxed again, and he noted how even more of her color had faded away. How even more of her had slipped beyond his reach.

Taking both of her hands in one of his he freed himself to brush the damp strands of hair from her brow. She smiled at him so weakly, so sweetly, there was a sort of understanding in them that he could not comprehend.

Thank you. Leah breathed not able to muster anything more.

For what? He smiled back as best he could.

For your love, for our masterpiece, for every day that we have been together. It’s has been like a beautiful dream.

We shall have many more days together my love, many, many more.

We shall have those days in heaven when they are unending and where the sun is Christ Himself. Where things are perfect and where there is no pain. There I shall wait for you, and you shall find that though a lifetime should pass it was no time at all. My only sorrow is that you should now suffer on my account.

Don’t say things like that. James could feel a pit growing within him like a void devouring every bit of him. Save your strength for more hopeful things.

I use what little strength is left to me so that I can bring one of the greatest treasures God has given me what little hope I can - so that he might see that when I am gone despair is not all that remains for him.

James was going to say something, but his words halted when she had another longer lasting fit of agony. Her nails dug into his hands biting at his skin, but he didn’t care. What did it matter the pain he felt if it helped her?

She was so young the day they had met, only eighteen, yet he knew when he lifted her from the path where she had fallen that there was nothing and no one else for him, she was the one, from that moment she was the only one. He had always thought himself cold like his father…cold as granite… and just as lifeless. He had the misconception that there would really never be anything for him beside a barren life… an empty life. That he would never find meaning in anything he did. But that day when they met the coldness in him ebbed and then disappeared altogether, and he knew she was all there was for him in the world. She was his sunlight, his warmth, his everything.

Leah, Leah, James called to her as she held tight and clenched her jaw.

A moment later she fell to her pillows ashen, her soft white skin now a dull gray. Tears glided down her face staining it as though she were nothing more than a paper doll. James watched in disbelief as her lips that were now so very pale slipped into a slight crescent, her pupils shuttered, her breath caught, and her grip relaxed in his hands.

That had all happened hours ago. Those hours felt like an eternity. James hadn’t felt himself being helped to a chair. He hadn’t noticed the servants changing the bedding on Doctor Sail’s command, or Leah being placed back on the bed covered in white linen, her hands set to rest on the coverlet. The fire was almost out in the room when he recovered himself. The world around him was now as dark as the hole within. He tried to stand but lost his footing causing him to fall back. Tears finally glazed his eyes, spilling out over his lashes mercilessly, an unbearable pain pierced his soul.

Forcing himself to stand, he hobbled to where his meaning lay on the bed, his knees giving before he could take a seat beside her. With a trembling hand, he took one of hers. How cold it was… so, so cold. Had he made up the warmth it had once had? James pressed it to his lips and stroked his cheek with her skin.

Why not me? Why couldn’t I have been the one to die? James sobbed, What meaning does life have now when my heart lies still on this bed?

Save his weeping the room was silent. Not even the dissipating logs made noise as they crumbled into ashes. Then all at once, a noise he had not heard for hours split the still air. James lifted his head from where it had been laying on the bed and looked across the room at the small elaborately carved wooden cradle. Only half-conscious of his actions James replaced her hand atop the other, and like a specter, he glided across the room.

He couldn’t say how it happened, but he found himself holding his son. It astonished him how quickly the babe ceased crying when he had lifted him from his crib. Could this tiny being, smaller than the average baby, be aware of what had happened? Could he possibly know that he was motherless or that he would never remember the day when he first saw the possessor of the voice he had listened to for so long? That he would never come to know the miracle that was his mother?

How tiny his son looked laying in the crook of his arm, how marvelously delicate. James touched the petite hand that peeked from the smooth white blanket that was wrapped all around him, the blanket his Leah had knit for their son, the small digits were smaller than his little finger. Words from what seemed another world flowed into his mind, I am glad I am not leaving you alone.

Tears once again came to his eyes, but he quickly brushed them away. A smile, both bitter and sweet, passed across his lips as they parted and formed the name, Toby.

Chapter 2

Toby tumbled over himself running from the veranda and onto the grass as though he were running straight into heaven. His dark brown hair, the likeness of his fathers, flew behind him wildly, the wind sending it back. His pale white cheeks reddened at the touch of winter still in the firm spring breeze. Three months had been too long for his five-year-old mind. Two he spent in bed sick, but the third passed with him desperately trying to stay sane as he recovered. Now, finally, he was able to gallop, run, skip, jump, and cartwheel if he wished. He was almost completely overwhelmed with trying to decide which to do first. His jade colored eyes ate at the world around him hardly able to take it all in.

James came after his son at a trot. Don’t run down the stairs! But he was too late. Even if he hadn’t been, his deep voice at a loud call couldn’t reach his little son’s mind quick enough to stop him.

Toby tumbled in a heap on the grass after spinning so long that he almost thought his dizzy brain would fly out of his ears. A shrill laugh escaped his lips as he began to smash down the lawn swinging his arms as wildly as he could in the pursuit of angel’s wings. He loved the pull of the blades on his clothes and the strange prickly yanking on his skin.

James stood not far away watching his son’s frantic race for enjoyment. It seemed so strange to see such a difference in him, his spirit was the same, but Toby had seemed so frail and delicate only days ago, and now here he was as if nothing had ever happened. What was wrong with him, James should be enjoying this as much as his son was. Yet, here he found himself watching as though he expected something to happen, as though this were just a dream and he had yet to awaken.

Toby jumped up from where he lay and frolicked to another point in the yard, after a few summersaults he fall yet again into the grass laughing. Light footsteps drew near behind James. He didn’t turn to see who it was… there was no need - he knew that stride. A man with shabby crimson brown hair, swarthy tanned skin, and strange, captivating honey colored eyes stopped beside him, a handsome smile slipping across his cunning lips. His eyes immediately went in the same direction as James’s own.

I’m glad to see he’s doing well, I was worried when I got your letter. The man’s smooth voice cut into the childish laughter that yet again penetrated the air from a few feet away.

Yes, I am glad to see you received it. James replied tartly. When you didn’t respond, I thought maybe your connections weren’t as good as you advertised.

Well, I was a little caught up. I came as fast as I could.

Caught up with what, another import problem? A sarcastic smile slipping across his stern lips.

No, dearest brother, I was, unfortunately, suffering from a few rather critical injuries. Though I am sure that this must bring you some strange pleasure.

James glanced at his younger brother, who himself was watching Toby. Why doesn’t that surprise me Clemit? You are an accident waiting to happen.

Yes, I suppose I am, but it could have been much worse. In fact, it has been in the past. Clemit ran a hand through his thick hair pressing it back only to have it fall on his face a moment later.

Toby was disappointed when you didn’t come quickly. If it were I who wanted you and not him I wouldn’t have cared how long it took you to get here, nor would I have mentioned it. Remember I told you not to do everything he wanted. However, you had to be his fairy godmother, didn’t you?

I wouldn’t quite call myself that, more like a fairy godfather if you please. Besides, I bet he will hardly think about it in a moment. Clemit retorted in his caviler way. Toby, your fool of an uncle is finally here! He added looking at his brother with a sardonic glint in his eyes.

The small head shot up like a fully bloomed brown flower. Toby spun around on his hands and knees, a smile splitting his lips showing his pale pearl white teeth. He stood almost tumbling back to the earth, his feet wanting to move faster than his balance. Righting himself he aimed at his uncle and came toward him charging like a diving bird. Clemit caught him up at once and brought him down with his arm in a smooth landing.

Am I to get the idea you missed me? Clemit laughed tickling his nephew mercilessly.

Toby giggled flailing, but never losing his place. James just watched with delight taking in his son’s laughter.

So, are you mad at me? Clemit asked finally allowing Toby to take a breath.

Noooo. Toby dragged the word out as though it was only partly true.

No, you’re not. He sent another burst of tickles into his nephew’s side. Well, that’s good because if you were, I couldn’t give you your present.

Toby pushed his hand away with green eyes alight. A present?!

Yes, it is something special I brought back from my adventure just for you.

Really?!

Yes really, but I can’t give it to you until your Papa says it’s alright.

Is it Papa? Toby looked at his father practically slipping from his seat, his eyes glowing with impatience.

James chuckled. Of course it is.

Toby tried to jump off his uncle’s arm, but Clemit foreseeing his move lowered him swiftly.

Where is it?! the little voice asked shrilly.

Well, I think it's waiting back inside, shall we go find it?

Toby nodded and then ran past them toward the house.

Toby, if you run up those stairs you won’t get anything. Wait for us in the study! James quickly called after him.

Toby looked back with a smile and did as he was told, taking the stairs slowly waiting to run until he reached the veranda, he was out of eyeshot before either of the men had taken a step. The two brothers walked up together meeting the excited five-year-old in the midst of an exhaustive search. He had looked under almost every piece of furniture in the study before the two had come near enough to see what he was doing. Finding himself caught, he stopped his probing at once holding a handsomely ornate pillow behind his back as though it were evidence of his crime.

Now you won’t find it like that. Clemit knelt in front of him taking the cushion from behind his back, throwing it onto a sofa freeing himself to lift and plop his nephew onto a chair that had its back to the door leading to the hall. Now you wait here. I will go and get it for you. He stood as though to leave, but halted pointing a teasing finger at Toby. If you move or try to peek, I won’t give it to you.

Toby smiled and placed his hands on his knees, a look of innocence filling his every feature. When Clemit left, James took a seat by the fireplace where he had the best vantage point of his son. Toby turned to his father looking worried.

Do you know what it is Papa?

James smiled. I am afraid not.

A frown joined his son’s slight brows. He crossed his small arms and pursed his lips, his eyes expressing his attempt to predict what his uncle might bring through the door this time. A minute or two had passed, and Toby began to shift in his chair wanting to peek, but not being able, and too afraid that his uncle might just carry out his threat. He started to kick his legs frantically against the armchair bouncing up and down as though he were going to burst.

Are you ready? Clemit’s voice came through the hall door at last.

YES! Toby screamed spinning around on his knees, so his stomach rested against the back of the chair. He tried to look over the arched backrest of the large wingback, but it was more than a bit too tall for him.

Alright then.

The door opened. Toby quickly sprang from his seat at last and gasped, his little mouth gaping. Papa, it’s a puppy. He ran and picked up the brown and white furball running it to James almost as swiftly.

Yes, it is. James scratched the head of the rather big animal that was dropping out of his son’s grasp.

So, you like him then? Clemit asked falling into the chair beside his elder brother. If you don’t, I can always take him back.

NO, I like him! Toby yelled readjusting his new pet in his arms, but no matter, his hind legs still seeped out of his grasp yet again.

Clemit sat forward in his chair. Would you like to hear how I found him?

Toby nodded shyly trying to fix his dog in his arms once more, to no avail. Clemit dropped to the floor and donning his most conspiratorial look began at once, starting with a mountain, reaching the climax with an avalanche, descending to two lifesaving dogs, and finishing with two months of healing from the injuries. Toby took in every word absorbing it as though he was a sponge and it was water. Clemit had a unique way of making everything he said sound so exciting. James’s eyes never left Toby, who was so enraptured by Clemit’s every word that he hardly noticed himself squeezing the puppy who was trying to squirm from his strangling grasp.

When Clemit story came to an end, he finished by spreading his arms and announcing, And that is what happened.

His young nephew looked at him wide-eyed, his arms loosening, but still obstinately remaining around the fluffy brown and white puppy. His brother smiled from where he sat watching. Clemit looked over at him with a smirk of his own.

You see, Toby, his mother and I had a little talk.

But dogs can’t talk. His nephew giggled, his tiny form rocking with it.

You’re so wrong my dear boy, they can talk with their eyes, and eyes can say a whole lot more than a voice can. She told me that her son would stay with you and help you get strong until the day you didn’t need him any longer. She thought you could use a friend.

His nephew frowned thoughtfully. Will he lay on me as she laid on you?

Yes, he will do just that when you’re sick and help you get better. Now quick Toby you have to play with him, he came an awfully long way, and it would be rude for you to ignore him.

Toby finally relaxed his grasp and allowed his dog to escape. He had soon forgotten his uncle and began following the blue-eyed puppy, allowing Clemit to move back to his seat near his brother by the fire. They both remained like this for a long time, watching him play with his new friend. Only now and then would Clemit spare a glance at James never ceasing to grasp the worry in his patient gaze.

The oddest feeling of guilt flooded over him. He couldn’t think to talk. He didn’t know what to say. It appeared there were still those voids that neither of them would be able to cross, or had developed the courage to build a bridge over.

What are you going to name him? James asked cutting into the strange, yet pleasant silence.

Toby looked at his dog and with a smile and said simply, Saint, only adding, Like from uncle’s story, And then continued following the furball around the room on his hands and knees.

Is there something bothering you? Clemit mumbled when his nephew seemed distracted enough not to notice them.

Was there something bothering him? There was always something. All James wanted was for his son to be just as he had been outside, all the time. To never wonder or worry when he may get sick again or what may be the cause of it. To never be afraid that he would slip through his fingers like his mother had. This last time it had seemed so close, and he was able to do nothing to help, save sit there as he had with Leah. Sucking back his feelings, he locked them away so Clemit now only saw the pensive appearance he wore as a mask.

No, nothing is wrong.

You’re a bad liar.

I am not lying. James corrected.

Clemit sighed and resolved to change the subject. So what has he been doing for the company outside of yourself?

Recently when he is well enough he has taken to playing with the servant’s children.

Clemit had to stifle a laugh. Why Father would turn over in his grave, or wherever he might be if he heard that. Clemit made sure to point down with a rather pleased smile. Just think about it James Blake the Lord of Gilding’s only heir playing with the servant’s children. I must say that I approve one hundred percent and at least he will be down to earth.

Hopefully not as close to it as his uncle.

I thought most people considered my career to belong beneath the earth. Fortunately for him, he has a father who won’t disinherit him for it. At the least, he will have a proper guiding hand, and not a stiff controlling grasp or whip.

You left at sixteen without a word, for all he knew you were dead.

Now, now, don’t defend him, James. Besides, I was always a big disappointment to him or at least that is always how it seemed. I am almost positive he would have found it a relief if he heard I was dead. Clemit sighed thoughtfully. Oh, the days under that man’s rule, wait I mean dictatorship, what interesting memories. I am only sorry you contented yourself to remain beneath his iron hand and for what, to care for a man who would give you an inheritance that he hoped you might choke on? Wait that is only if he was lucky.

I didn’t do it for the inheritance. In fact, when I married Leah he had thought to condemn me to the same fate as you my dear brother, but what was he to do? He started his family late and failed with one of his heirs. Was he to risk letting us both go and subsequently ending the Blake line? No, he made do with what he had and died consoled with the fact that his line would not end with me. Then again, I do think he would have preferred it had. It is actually strange to think about.

"Yes, so it is. Nonetheless, I find myself at a more important prospect, are you going to torture Toby with a monster of a governess like Father did to us, for a short time, and then shove him

Reviews for Devil of Gilding

[jane3phillips-2 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This novel had a gothic, melodramatic feel to it as it appeared to be set in 18th or 19th century England (although setting was vague). A good first novel that read quite easily.