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Authors: Sometimes a Rogue

BOOK: Mary Jo Putney
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Kirkland answered his question with another question. “Did you learn anything else about them that you didn’t tell me when you sent your report?”
Rob frowned, trying to remember. He’d been tired when he wrote those first essential letters, and he’d kept them brief. “Did I mention that they may have a female leader? Though I can’t swear to that since it was part of a conversation that took place over open water as we were sailing away from Kinsale. Does that matter?”
“Not unless she’s French. I’ve evidence that France has been quietly funding some of the more radical Irish independence groups with the aim of creating problems in England’s backyard.”
Rob whistled softly. “That makes perfect sense. Some of the Irish would take aid from the devil himself if it would help them drive the British out of Ireland.”
“They might have trouble getting the French out again,” Adam observed. “But that wouldn’t stop an angry rebel.”
“Did you hear anything to suggest French support?” Kirkland asked.
Rob frowned as he thought. “They had to be well funded to mount their raid on Ralston Abbey and get away again. But I saw no real evidence. The person to talk to is my cousin Patrick Cassidy, the priest who’s here at the wedding.”
“Why did he come to Kellington?”
“To persuade me to improve conditions at Kilvarra, the Kellington estate in Ireland,” Rob explained. “Since I’m cooperating on that, he’s in charity with me and will probably talk willingly. Up to a point, anyhow.”
Kirkland studied him narrowly. “Is he a radical?”
“He wants the English out of Ireland and no mistake,” Rob said. “But he doesn’t support violence. He’s a member of the United Irishmen, which is a moderate group, but I suspect he hears about a good deal more that’s going on.”
“Will you introduce us?” Kirkland smiled wearily and got to his feet. “Here’s hoping your cousin has had enough ale to loosen his tongue.”
“He wouldn’t tell you anything that might be considered a betrayal,” Rob warned. “But he was appalled when I told him about the intended abduction of a young woman on the verge of childbirth. It’s worth questioning him. I want to be there, though.”
Kirkland’s brows arched. “I’m not going to use thumbscrews, Rob.”
“I know. But he’ll talk more easily if I’m present.”
Kirkland nodded acceptance of that as he started for the door. “Let’s find the good father. I’m sure he’ll have some interesting things to say.”
And Kirkland would know exactly how to use anything he learned.
Chapter 34
T
he sun had almost set but the festivities were going strong when Rob sought Sarah out. She couldn’t read his expression, other than the fact that he didn’t look as relaxed and happy as he had earlier.
He bowed over her hand. “Time to escape, my lady.”
“I’m ready,” she said. “Being the bride is rather grand, but it’s tiring to have to be charming for so many hours.”
He smiled a little at that. “You charm as naturally as you breathe.” He set his hand on her lower back and guided her toward the house. The warmth of his open palm was very . . . intimate.
It took time to reach the house because of people who wanted to chat and offer best wishes, but eventually they made it inside. As they climbed the stairs, he asked, “Your room or mine?”
“The master suite,” she said. “The rooms are quite pleasant, and I thought the symbolism was appropriate.”
“Starting a new phase of life in a new place? You’re right, the bedrooms we’ve been using are nothing special.” As they turned down the corridor, he added, “Thank you for your efforts in the study. You improved it out of all recognition.”
“Good. Since you seem to end up there often, it needs to be welcoming.” The passage ended with a series of doors leading to the various rooms that made up the suite. The large door in the center led to the sitting room while the others opened into dressing rooms so servants could come and go unobtrusively.
Rob was reaching for the middle door when Sarah said, “The doors are locked. I didn’t want anyone planting bridal surprises inside.”
“Good precaution,” he said with approval. “Most such surprises are amusing to the pranksters, but not for the bride and groom.”
She retrieved the key from under a vase on a hall table and unlocked the door. It didn’t escape her notice that Rob seemed to gird himself mentally before entering. That was the trouble with family homes where generations had lived and died. There were always layers of memories, and not always good ones.
They stepped into a short passage leading to the sitting room that lay between the bedrooms. He took the key, locked the door, then turned to envelop her in a hug.
The embrace wasn’t one of passion, but affection and comfort. She leaned into him with a small hum of pleasure as she wrapped her arms round his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. Mariah was right, she and Rob hadn’t spent enough time together in the last few days. Being in his arms felt very right.
“I’m glad we’re no longer on public display,” he murmured. “Being the genial lord of the manor is tiring.”
She chuckled. “You prefer lurking quietly in the background, don’t you?”
“Lurking is much more my style,” he agreed. “But you, my countess, make a superb lady of the manor.”
“Thank you.” She burrowed closer. “Credit goes to the duchess gown Mariah gave me. Wearing it would make any woman feel like a grand lady.”
“I did wonder where you found a garment so magnificent on short notice. I should have guessed. You’re fortunate in your family.”
“It’s your family now also,” she pointed out.
“True,” he said thoughtfully. “I’m having some trouble with the idea that the Duke of Ashton is now my brother-in-law.”
She tilted her head back to gaze up at him. “But you’ve known Adam forever.”
“Yes, but he was always a duke while I was a younger son, a younger student, and more recently his employee for various investigations. Being family is different. My life feels like a reshuffled hand of cards.”
“Because it is,” she agreed. “Are you still dubious about being an earl?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “But I like that now there’s room in my life for a wife.”
He released her and took the last two steps into the sitting room as he peeled off his coat and cravat.
As he tossed them over the back of a chair, he noticed his surroundings. The last rays of the setting sun poured in the windows like liquid gold, gilding the elegant furnishings and the vases of bright flowers set around the room.
“Are we in the right house?” he asked, startled. “This looks completely different from what I remember. And better. Much, much better. How did you manage such a swift transformation?”
“Mariah and I invaded the attics and found older furnishings,” she explained. “Then it was just a matter of moving and cleaning.”
“That must have been a substantial job! But the results are worth it. This no longer feels like it belongs to my father.” Rob sat to tug off his boots, then took Sarah’s hand and began to explore the suite. After admiring the earl’s bedroom, he looked into his dressing room, where his own clothing was neatly stored.
“Harvey has been busy, I see. My wardrobe looks paltry in here. As I recall, the countess’s dressing room is twice as large, so I hope you have a very large wardrobe.”
“My dressing room is more than adequate.” She smiled, anticipating his surprise. “Take that door next.”
He did as she suggested, then stopped dead in his tracks. “Good God, a Roman bathhouse! This certainly wasn’t here before.”
“Space was taken from the countess’s dressing room for this bath and a water closet through that door,” Sarah explained. “According to Hector, several years after your mother died, your father had a mistress with extravagant tastes. She persuaded him to put in Egyptian style furniture and this bathroom before he tired of her.”
“If she liked carved crocodiles, I’m not surprised she didn’t last long.” A tank was suspended above one end of the tub. He held his hand up near it. “Hot water?”
“There’s a boiler in a little closet between the bathroom and the corridor, so servants can keep the water warm without disturbing us,” she said.
Rob slanted a glance at her. “This could be . . . enjoyable. Shall we move on to your rooms?”
When she nodded, he opened the door to her dressing room and crossed through into her bedroom, his warm hand still clasping hers. He looked intensely—and provocatively—masculine against the serene, very feminine ivory and rose tones. “Well done, Sarah!” He smiled down at her. “The colors and furnishings suit you. A perfect English rose in her bower.”
The warmth of his gaze made her pulse accelerate. “If you’re hungry, there’s food and drink on the table by the window,” she said a little nervously. “The servants didn’t want us to have to emerge for a day or two.”
Laughing, he pulled her closer. “I like that idea.” He bent his head and kissed her, his mouth warm and firm.
She melted into his kiss, tongues touching as they breathed each other’s air. Finally the wedding ceremony and formalities were behind them and they were alone as husband and wife.
She was so absorbed in their kissing that she was scarcely aware of what he was doing with his hands until her hair tumbled loose. He slid his fingers into the falling locks and kneaded her head and neck with strong, sure fingertips. “Let’s not summon your maid,” he murmured as he deftly unfastened the back of her gown.
As he moved behind her and began unlacing her stays, she said rather breathlessly, “You’re really good at this. Should I be concerned at your skill?”
He bent to kiss her throat through the golden fall of her hair. “If you’re wondering if I’m a seasoned rake, the answer is no,” he replied. “But I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you.”
“Really? You didn’t show any sign of that,” she said with interest.
“I was supposed to be rescuing you, not ravishing you. Even with my best intentions, you’ll notice that desire didn’t stay entirely under control.” He finished unlacing the stays and lifted them away, leaving her in her shift and slippers.
“I noticed.” She kicked off the dainty slippers and was immediately two inches shorter. “Give me a few minutes to change and I’ll meet you back here.”
“I can help remove your shift,” he offered, his eyes glinting as he ran his hands down her arms from shoulder to elbow.
She laughed. “Behave! I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She scooped up the duchess gown and her stays, then skipped into her dressing room. Leaving the gown on the floor would have seemed disrespectful.
She swiftly hung the gown, then stripped and donned the beautiful rose-colored muslin nightgown Mariah had given her. It was extremely helpful to have a sister who was a generous and well-dressed duchess.
The nightgown was full, long sleeved, and modest, but the color was flattering and the fabric flowed beautifully when she moved. She brushed her tangled hair down over her shoulders and dabbed on the night version of Kiri’s perfume. It had a sweet floral innocence, but underneath was rich, sultry promise.
A quick look in the mirror confirmed that she looked as a bride should look on her wedding night. Nervous, of course, but that was natural.
She took a deep breath, then returned to her bedroom. Rob stood gazing out the window, his hands clasped behind his back.
He’d changed into a magnificent banyan made of burgundy silk and embroidered with Oriental motifs in shades of blue and black. The garment was exotic and beautiful, and made Rob seem an intriguing and possibly dangerous stranger. Rather like the man she’d described to her friend Lady Kiri one day when they talked about ideal mates.
Then he turned with a smile and was her friend again. “I acquired this rather spectacular robe when I lived in India. They are experts in luxury. And you, my exquisite bride, look like the most luxurious female on the planet.”
Before she recognized his intent, he swept her up in his arms and laid her in the middle of her canopied bed as gently as if she were porcelain. “Ah, Sarah, Sarah. Princess.” He came down beside her, his arm around her waist as he leaned in. “You are so beautiful,” he said huskily. “So exquisitely beautiful . . .”
This time his mouth was hot and hungry. Searing. She could feel the heat rising in her body, pooling with liquid intensity in unnamed places.
At first she enjoyed the intoxication of his kiss, the heat and desire that called forth the same in her. Then he shifted to kiss her ear so that his torso was over hers. Even though he kept most of his weight off her, she had a sudden, frantic feeling of being trapped. She gasped and shoved instinctively on his shoulders.
He instantly rolled away onto his back, breathing hard and fists clenched. After a few moments, he said, “I’m sorry. I . . . seem to frighten you, and it’s not the first time today that’s happened. Do you . . . not want to be married to me?”
“No!” She scrambled up to a sitting position against the pillow-piled backboard. “If anyone should be apologizing, Rob, it’s me. I have no reason at all to fear you—you’ve been unbelievably kind and patient. But . . . you’re so
large
! Large and strong. And—I’m not.”
He sat up and leaned back against one of the massive posts at the foot of the bed, facing her. His breathing was quick, but his face was controlled as he stretched his legs out beside her. His feet were large, in proportion to the rest of him. What had she once overheard about the size of feet reflecting the size of... ? Blushing, she looked away.
“I can’t do much about my height,” he said wryly. “I’m very aware of how petite you are. Not weak. Your strength and endurance are admirable. But you’re so small and lovely that you look like you should be on a pedestal with a sign saying ‘Look but don’t touch.’ Unfortunately, I have a powerful desire to touch.”
“I’m not at all fragile. Remember that I was the very devil of a tomboy with my cousins.” She frowned as she tried to analyze her reaction. “For a moment I felt trapped, but I’m not afraid of you, Rob.”
“That’s something,” he murmured. “Was I moving too fast for you?”
“A little.” She made a face. “But I must admit that I keep thinking that every one of our guests knows what we’re doing in here. It’s
embarrassing.
”
“At least this isn’t a royal marriage of the past when half the court crowded into the marital bedroom. It would take a strong man to perform under those circumstances!” he said feelingly. “But you’re right that assumptions are made about wedding nights.”
She grimaced at his mention of public consummations in the past. “Maybe I was meant to be a spinster,” she said gloomily.
Rob became very still. “If you truly don’t want to be my wife, the marriage could be annulled. It would be messy and complicated, but I’m sure it could be done as long as the marriage hasn’t been consummated.”
She shuddered as she thought of all the people who’d come to celebrate their wedding. Virtually everyone on the large Kellington estate and a goodly number of friends and family as well. An annulment would be a devastatingly public slap in the face for Rob, who had done nothing,
nothing,
to deserve that from her.
On the contrary, he’d given her—everything. “I most certainly do not want an annulment! It’s time I married, and you’re the only man I can imagine being married to.” She shoved her hair back out of her face with an impatient hand. “I didn’t expect to feel this skittish, though. I’m generally fairly sensible.”
“I like that about you.” He drew up one leg and casually rested his arm on it, a picture of sumptuously garbed relaxation. “If you were in love with me, you’d be less skittish. Though we’ve shared some interesting adventures, we haven’t really known each other that long.”
In a flash of intuition, she recognized that he wasn’t relaxed at all, just very good at masking his tension. Her heart twisted when she remembered the shining certainty on Mariah’s face when she went to Adam as his bride.
There had been equal certainty in Adam’s eyes, and a kind of awe at his good fortune. So very different from Sarah and Rob.
Her jaw hardened. She’d taken vows before God and man just hours earlier. She couldn’t walk away. She didn’t
want
to walk away. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Many couples marry without being in love and the marriage works out very well. We—or rather I—just need a bit of time to sort this out.”

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