An Unmistakable Rogue (23 page)

“Forgiven.” She squeezed his hand. “You had reason for believing the worst. I had withheld much. I suppose that not speaking is as good as a lie.”

“Not necessarily.”

“You need not make excuses for me. I do that quite well on my own. Would you like some breakfast?”

“Are you cooking?”

“
You
cook, nasty man.”

Reed rose. “Now that you’ve forgiven me, I feel as if I could eat a whole ... chicken.”

“Zeke is off-limits, so you can make cornbread. I’ll get the honey.”

Reed used every manner of pan imaginable, and Chastity shook her head. “It’ll take six people to clean this mess.”

The children were none the worse for their foray into the world. Chastity gave them a talking to about running away, and Reed threw in a few bruising comments.

Luke described their confrontation with the innkeeper, turning Chastity white with fear, then red with anger. When he mentioned Bekah biting the man, Bekah gagged.

“Guess I tasted better.” Reed laughed. “From now on, no biting strangers.”

Bekah nodded. “Only you.”

The children fell asleep early that evening, after their day and night on the road, but Reed and Chastity, by tacit and silent agreement, did not remain upstairs. They went down to the library where they each chose a book and sat in opposite chairs before the fire.

Such good intentions, such a homey scene—as if they had been married for years, except that she may as well be holding her book upside down. Besides, if they had been married for years, she would still want Reed Gilbride as much as she did at this moment.

Some law said they could not marry. A law for the sake of laws, not people.

She studied him, memorizing his features. Before she met him, she would not have thought it possible to call a man beautiful, but he was. Strong enough to overturn a marble sarcophagus, gentle enough to braid a little girl’s hair. He had grown up angry enough to survive in a world that hurt him, yet he loved enough to give up his dream.

She understood, for she loved him enough to give up her next breath, or toss the law to the devil. Oh, she would not break it and marry, but the law said nothing beyond marriage and there were too few nights left. Those she would not toss. “Reed.”

He looked up, raw hunger in his look.

He had read no more than she. His words, his look, shivered her. “Make love to me.”

His eyes leapt with fire, yet he shook his head. “We should talk about—”

“No. My head aches from taking it all in. I do not want to talk about today or tomorrow, or what life is, or was, or never will be. I want you to hold me and make love to me all night, for every night we have left.”

He rose and leaned over her in the chair, and she began to unbutton his shirt, planting kisses where she could. She ran her hand inside the band of his trousers, hardening him on the instant. “I want you, now. Here by the library fire,” she said. “Please.”

“Let me lock the door. It’s a bit early in their young lives for
this
kind of education.”

Chastity giggled as she watched him return to her, aroused and embarrassed by it. He groaned as she undid the placket on his trousers to free him into her waiting hands.

Before she knew it, they lay on the rug before the fire, Reed kissing her bare ankle, behind her knee. He removed her dress, her shift, and his own clothes.

She could watch the play of muscles along his torso all day. She loved the dark curly hair on his chest, especially when it grazed her nipples, the length of him pressed intimately against her.

No other man could feel as excellent against her as did Reed Gilbride. No other could fit her so perfectly or knew so well how to make her soar as did he. If only he were not the heir. If only— Chastity sat up like a shot. “Good God, you’re an Earl.”

Reed chuckled and pulled her back. His kisses became bolder, hotter. “Wait till you see what this Earl can do.”

“Oh, Reed.” But the sensations purling through her made words impossible. His tongue did fascinating things. Her breath got away from her, and a new world rose up to greet her. Incredible, unbearable. Too high, impossible to reach.

Yet just as she thought she could fly, he stopped, and he stopped her scream with his mouth as he slipped inside her womanhood and rekindled her fire with slow, smooth strokes.

His lips left her mouth and she whimpered, then he suckled her, and she whimpered the more. He took her deeper and faster, until they spun and spiraled, reaching beyond the sun and all the way to the stars.

Chastity held on as they drifted, stroking his sweat-slick back, his arms, kissing his chin, listening to the rasp of his breath near her ear. She wanted the moment to last, but forever would not be long enough.

“I’m heavy,” he said and made to slide from her.

“No. Stay.” She held him tight, tears slipping down the sides of her face.

He sighed and kissed her ear, tugged her lobe between his teeth. She did the same, memorizing the play of muscle beneath her hands. She licked his shoulder, tasted salt.

She slid her hand between them and stroked him at his base, and he chuckled, nearly dislodging himself.

“Do not move,” she said. “I want it to happen again.”

“That’ll be easy. I’ve pretty much been hard since the day I tried to get suds off your eyelash.”

“Have you?”

He raised his head. “You’re crying.”

“No. Tell me what you were going to say. Please.”

“When you were trying to milk that cow, I thought I’d scream with the pain of how hard I was. Don’t cry.” He kissed her tears.

“When you were hurt and I washed you, you were hard, then, and I wanted to touch you, but my need frightened me. Do you know something else?”

“What, love?”

“I got wet just looking at you, then, and that frightened me too.”

His body surged, and he took her on a slow journey back to heaven.

She gave herself over to his incredible talent, and somewhere between the soaring and the gliding, they slept entwined on the rug before the fire.

The knob on the library door jiggled. Reed heard it, but he did not want to open his eyes.

“Where do you s’pose they went?” Mark asked.

“Maybe
they
ran away this time,” Luke said.

“Weed?”

He heard them talking as they walked away. The fire was out, the room cool, but Chastity slept on.

Dressed in yesterday’s clothes, Reed left the library, shutting the door behind him. The children sat on the bottom stair, chins in hands, side by side.

“You know, Mark,” Reed said. “I think you’re going to be taller than Matt. You’ll have to start taking first place, if you want to keep that great stair-step line you present as you stand in a row.” Reed held his hand at an angle to demonstrate.

“No,” Matt said, looking keenly at his younger brother.

“Yes!” Mark displayed a rare smile, surprising Reed.

“Where’s Kitty,” Luke asked. “Did she run away, too?”

“Kitty’s tired from chasing you all over England. She fell asleep in the library last night and she’s still there. If you even think of disturbing her, I’ll skin you good and hang you by your toes.”

Rebekah giggled.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” he said lifting her and running with her to the kitchen, luring her brothers from the library.

He stood Bekah in the middle of the kitchen table.

“Put her on the table, gotta roast her,” Mark said.

“Oops.” Reed swept her up and set her on the floor. “Matt, milk Leonardo. Mark, check the garden, Luke, get the barrow for Mark’s vegetables. Bekah, you make breakfast.”

Bekah and Luke doubled over laughing. Matt and Mark chuckled their way out the door.

Reed put water on to boil, cut a loaf of bread into slices and placed them with butter before Bekah. He handed her a spoon and showed her how to use the handle to butter the bread. “See, you are making breakfast.” He kissed the top of her head. “Butter them all. I’ll be right back.”

He ran upstairs for Chastity’s clothes, checked on Bekah, gave her more bread to butter—she was quick—threw soap and water into a pan and took it to the library.

Half an hour later, Chastity joined them for fresh milk, and bread, thickly buttered.

Rebekah was so proud, no one had the heart to scrape the excess off their bread.

“You all right, Chastity?” Reed asked.

She grinned. “Pretty all right. You?”

“Very all right.” He grinned back.

“The church register said that you and your brother were rescued. What do you suppose that means?”

Three quick raps of the front door-knocker sent the children running to the foyer. Matt opened the door before Reed had a chance to stop him.

Two men in religious garb waited to be invited inside. Reed’s heartbeat trebled.

“Hey. You’re missionaries,” Luke said. “Like papa.”

Chastity stilled and paled.

Reed swallowed his trepidation. “Won’t you come in?” Avoiding the library, he led them toward the salon.

The taller of the two men turned his hat in his hand as he looked from Reed to Chastity. “We’re from the London Missionary Society. We’ve come for the children.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“There must be a mistake,” Chastity said, a swan sensing danger to her cygnets.

“No mistake,” the younger missionary countered. “Got a letter right here.” He handed it to Chastity then turned to Reed. “Reed Gilbride, I presume.”

Reed nodded and extended his hand. “This is Chastity Somers. She’s been caring for the children, until their parents return.” He indicated the children. “Say hello to Matt, Mark, Luke.” He sighed over his stupidity in bringing these men here and picked up Bekah. “And this is Rebekah.”

“Pleased to know you all. I’m Zeb Perkins,” the shorter man said. “This is Ebenezer Hill.”

“A pleasure,” Ebenezer said.

“Ebenezer the sneezer,” Luke sang as he danced.

“Luke,” Reed coughed to hide a laugh.  

“Sorry we could not come in response to your letter sooner, Mr. Gilbride.” Zeb Perkins looked down his nose at the children. “Not enough missionaries to go around, and we did not know where to place them.”

“These children are special, talented. Cannot have just anyone caring for them. Luke,” Reed said. “Get your horn and show the Reverends what you can do with it.”

“Can’t find it.”

Reed snapped his fingers. “You know where I noticed it the other day? In my room, at the bottom of the wardrobe, inside my travel bag, beneath some blankets.”

Luke ran, and Mark’s bark of laughter brought surprise. For once, it was not Luke who was first to catch on. As a matter of fact, Luke had looked downright confused.

Reed sought Chastity’s reaction to Mark’s laughter. Despite her smile, sadness and disappointment clouded her expression. Damn. The letter she held condemned him with its existence.

How could you? her look said, and she had a right.

The letter made sense the day he wrote it, but he should not have sent it without telling her. The children’s parents might be looking for them without knowing where they were, but he did not know, then, what the children suffered in that workhouse. Blast him for an idiot; he should have given Chastity a chance to explain.

I love you, he tried to make her understand.

Right, her derisive look clearly said.

He raised his chin. “Trust me.”

She turned to the window, likely seeing none but the end of her dreams. If sorrow were lethal, she would wither and die, and the children would follow for losing her.

The clerics looked from one to the other of them. Zeb cleared his throat. Ebenezer shifted in his chair.

Reed wondered if his heart could bear the pain in Chastity’s. “Gentlemen, we want the children to stay with us until their parents are found.”

“Well for Gawd sakes,” the sneezer said. “If you were willing, why’d you send the demn—sorry Miz Somers—why’d you send the letter?”

“So the children’s parents would know where they were.”

Perkins took the letter from Chastity. “That is not what you said a’tall.” He slapped the paper. “They’d be best with someone from your organization,” he quoted.

Reed cleared his throat and tried to disregard the fury in Chastity’s eyes. “Since then, I’ve had the opportunity—”

WARRONNNK! WARRONNNK! WARRONNNK!

“Ah.” Reed said. “That would be Luke with his horn. Quite accomplished, he is. Play us a song, Luke.”

“Huh?”

“Play!” Reed said. “Boys dance to your brother’s tune, and sing. Poppet, sing like you used to.”

Matt and Mark caught on and made a hell of a racket. Luke’s horn bellowed, Rebekah gave her ear-splitting wail, and Reed’s thigh throbbed just remembering.

He grinned and Chastity smiled, despite herself.

“Gentlemen,” Reed said over the din. “I wrote the letter when I arrived, but since then, I have come to appreciate their talent, and Chastity’s gift in caring for them. She is more than capable. As a matter of fact—” He looked pointedly at the subject of his discourse and winked. “She not only loves them as if they were hers, she is the only one who can keep the little devils under control.”

At which point, his sheltering swan calmed her cygnets and hustled them from the room. Mark laughed. Matt congratulated Luke on his playing and Bekah on her singing.

Reed approached the sideboard and raised a decanter. “Port, gentlemen?”

They accepted, and Reed offered to have Sennett called, so the papers could be drawn up for temporary custody.

The Reverends wavered, so when Chastity came back, he invited them to stay for a day or so, until Sennett arrived. Out of hearing, he suggested that rooms be prepared on each side of the children.

The missionaries retired to rest while Reed oversaw a game of Blind Man’s Buff. When that was done, he taught the children a game he remembered from childhood, called Cockfight. The recreation took place in the foyer, at the base of the stairs, where sound carried best.

Reed prayed his ploy would work. He hoped that after two days of this, the missionaries would leave the children with Chastity. And he wanted Chastity to speak to him, again. She had not, since the Missionaries arrived.

After the men retired for the night, to the rooms adjacent to the boys, Chastity went to a bedchamber down the hall, and Reed held Mrs. Daffodil’s ball in the boys’ bedchamber, without her.

He had a grand time at that ball, and the goodnight round of tickling was a brilliant touch, until Luke hit his head when he fell off the bed and got blood all over the blankets. This caused Bekah to set up a wail.

But except for the fact that Luke had a slight crack in his hard head, Reed thought everything turned out well. Who knew that playing with children could be so much fun?

He knew by the time he settled them down that Chastity was really angry with him. She had not even said good night, and that was more than an hour ago.

Now he sat brooding, staring at his bed. His bed, damn it. Except that it was otherwise occupied. Zeke snuggled in the center, fluffs of fur making quite the nest for four mewling bunnies. If the children had not just settled down after being excited beyond bearing for hours, he would fetch them. He hated to wait till tomorrow to show them.

It was odd, he thought, how badly he wanted to wake the little devils. You’d think he needed them or something.

He chuckled. Zeke looked up. “Zeke, huh? Playing leapfrog, huh? Luke never said which of you was leaping. I had the mistaken notion that you were on top old boy—I mean old girl.”

He wanted to show Chastity, too. Not that he was looking for an excuse to go to her or anything. Yes, he was, but he really did want to show her Zeke’s babies.

He suspected, from her footsteps in the hall a few minutes ago, that she waited to be sure he left the children before she said good-night to them. She was kissing everyone, except him.

He heard her return and wanted to go after her. It took an act of will to stay, but that had always been a weak thing. “I want my kiss, damn it!” He abandoned his chair. “And I’m bloody well going to get it. Take the bed for tonight,” he threw over his shoulder as he left.

Reed stormed the portal. Well, he pushed her door ever-so-gently open, at any rate. She looked tiny and hurt curled up in the bed. The big bed. Big enough for—“Zeke’s got my bed,” he said, but Chastity remained unmoving. He guessed it was not the right time to tell her about the new additions to their household. He pushed her door further open, hesitated, and went as far as her bed. “Chastity?”

She gave him a look that spoke more of apathy than hate, which clearly hid a great deal of pain, which he had caused, and he was sorry, but
she
knew that. Nevertheless, she rolled to her side, facing away, and curled into a tighter ball. “Get out.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder.

She sighed, put her hand over his, left it for a second, a blessed moment when he thought she might forgive him, and then she lifted it away. “Please leave.”

“Not even, ‘please leave, Reed.’ Just, ‘please leave.’ I’d probably do anything you asked right now, except that.” He knelt beside the bed. “Chastity, Sweetheart. I did what I thought was best for the children.”

“You did what you thought was best for Reed Gilbride. You dislike children, you said so, and you wanted to be rid of them. Congratulations, you succeeded. Did you write the note the first morning? When did you send it? The day you came back with Leonardo? And I thought you a caring man.”

“That I disliked children is true, though ours—”

“Mine.”

“Your children
are
special. And my motives might once have been true. But the truth is that the brigands—pardon—the darlings, have nudged their rowdy way into my heart. Don’t look so surprised. No one is more so than I.”

“You have no heart.”

“As you wish. Are you all right? Can I get you anything?”

She looked as if he had sprouted horns and a tail. “You can get my babies back.”

“They are not gone, and they are not yours, damn it.”

She moved to look at him. “I
love
them.”

Reed shoved a hand through his hair in frustration over his inability to erase the pain he caused. “As they love you.” He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to take her hand, but she would not allow it. “Chastity, you’re a wonderful mother. I had no idea such love existed, until I saw you with them. Children without parents will benefit from your home, but not ones
with
parents.”

“If I have a children’s home.”

“You will. You are one determined woman and you deserve your dream. Sennett is clay in your hands; he’s not going to stop you. I’m trying to say you’ll have children.”

Chastity shoved him off the bed and rose. “Damn you to hell, Reed Gilbride. We are not speaking of replacing the curtains. They are people. Abandoned, helpless.”

“Never helpless.”

She almost smiled. “Their names are Matt, Mark, Luke and Rebekah, and they need me. I would have loved them until the moment I turned them over to their parents.” She bit a trembling lip. “Reed, I’m so frightened they’ll end up in that horrid workhouse.”

If his heart was breaking, hers must be shattered. “I promise you, I’ll make those men see that the children need to stay with you, until their parents are found.”

She turned away from him once more. “Thank you.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, ignored her attempt to shrug him away and turned her to face him. He kissed her forehead, inhaled roses and rain, and knew he loved her more than life. “I am so bloody sorry,” he whispered before he left.

After two days, Chastity wondered where Reed had been sleeping, but suspected he was with the boys. Though she was beginning to feel as if she might be allowed to keep the children, she wasn’t of a mind as yet to forgive him.

Mr. Sennett was on his way. He promised in a note that it would be no problem to draw up papers so she could keep the children until their parents were found.

Chastity harvested a handful of beans while Rebekah and Luke played nearby. Mark was giving the poor missionaries a tour of the garden, expounding on the importance of manure, a perfect recitation of Reed’s gardening lesson.

The Reverends were kind souls who simply could not abide children, but would deny it till doomsday, while Reed had spelled it right out. You always knew where you stood with Reed—one of the reasons she loved him, despite everything.

Matt helped her in the garden. He would be a good and gentle man someday. She hoped she would be somewhere nearby to see it. Perhaps his parents would allow her to visit on occasion.

“Chastity.” Reed stopped beside her “The Digger sent me a note. He says he has information about my birth that he cannot keep secret any longer. I’m going to meet him at the Sunnyledge chapel.”

“Be careful. You know what happened the last time.”

He turned back. “I’ll take that to mean you care.”

She plucked a handful of weeds and threw them at him. “Go on, get attacked by an angel. See if I care.”

He threw the weeds back. “Promise to nurse me back to health, and give in to your inclinations along the way, and I’ll throw myself beneath the first angel I find.”

Matt watched Reed go. “I think he loves you.”

“Careful, Matt, or I’ll make you eat mouse’s tails and hedgehog toes. And, no, I do not know how to cook them.”

“That’s all right. Reed will teach you.”

“Rude child.”

“I love you, Kitty.”

“Oh.” Her heart swelled and she made a sound that was part hiccup, part sob, as he hugged her. “I love you too, Matt.”

“Look,” he said. “Reed tossed his note with the weeds.”

“I don’t suppose he needs it, anyway.” Chastity frowned at the scrawl. “Matt. This handwriting, it’s—” She rose and ran toward the house.

It occurred suddenly to Reed that he owned the bloody chapel. A house of worship, a haven for prayer and peace—an accursed tomb that gave him the shuddering fidgets. He was glad he was giving it to Chastity, not that he would, if he really thought it was dangerous. If he were keeping it, though, he would put in more windows, separate his dead ancestors—gruesome thought—from the area for the living.

He stopped to regard the gothic structure. If not for its history and architecture, he’d raze the thing.

A covey of doves flew from the belfry as he watched.

“Duncan,” Reed called going in, but no one answered. He stepped inside and allowed his eyes to adjust to the light, or rather the lack thereof. “Are you here, old man?”

Not Duncan, but an old woman, veiled in black and weeping, knelt at the foot of his father’s tomb.

Reed wished he had brought a weapon, then wondered if he was daft, looking to protect himself from an old woman. He tried for sanity, but that was unlikely; her very scent turned his stomach. What the devil?

She wiped her tears with the corner of her veil as Reed moved closer. She was speaking to his father, calling him Edward, using the words of a lover, reserved for dark of night. Embarrassed, apprehensive, Reed turned to leave.

“Do not go, son.”

Son? Reed could barely discern her features, obscured by her veil as they were, but her face seemed ashen. “I was speaking to your father,” she said. “I remember the night you were conceived. He made such beautiful love to me that night, then we awaited your birth together.”