When the Rogue Returns (29 page)

“That might have worked for you and a wealthy duke, who both had much to hide, but you’re mad if you think you can get my family to lie for us. They’ll only keep quiet out of fear that they’ll be prosecuted themselves. And they still may find a way to implicate us without implicating themselves.”

“We’ll see,” he said noncommittally, though his expression was grim.

A thick silence fell between them.

He was up to something. She felt sure of it. “Are you
planning something you haven’t told me? Do you know their whereabouts after all?”

“Not yet. But I will.”

“I’m glad you’re so sure,” she said sarcastically. “You just told me that until they land somewhere, you can’t find them. And you can’t do anything while the house party is going on. So unless you mean to have someone else—” Then she groaned. “Victor, please tell me that you didn’t write to your Bow Street Runner friends in London.”

When he said nothing to that, a chill passed down her spine. “Victor! We said that we wouldn’t—”

“
You
said, Isa.” He stared resolutely ahead to where the horses clopped along at a slower pace than that of her racing heart. “I didn’t agree, as you’ll recall.”

“I had good reason for what I said! Until we find my sister and brother-in-law, we are still suspects in a theft! I’m still the one who made the parure, and you’re still the one who left the strongbox long enough for thieves to get into it. What do you think your friends will make of that?”

He glared at her. “They won’t judge us, I promise you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Tristan is the reason I found my family. He risked much to reunite me with them. He’s not going to do anything to hurt me.”

“But you don’t know if he’ll hurt
me.
He has no loyalty to me.”

“He will,” he said firmly. “You’re my wife.”

“And due to me, you’ve suffered. Your friends may not take that as well as you have.”

“Have faith in me for once. The way I always have faith in you.”

She snorted. “Not enough to consult me on your decisions or abide by my wishes.” Her blood thundered in her ears. “Did you go to Carlisle, too, after you promised not to? Did you lead Jacoba and Gerhart to Amalie?”

“Of course not!” he said, outrage in his tone. “I made you a promise, and I uphold my promises. But I never promised to keep my friends out of this. And I won’t, do you hear me? We
need
them, damn it. You’ll just have to trust me on this.
If
you’re capable of that.”

For him, it was a matter of trust, but for her it was so much more. She’d acquiesced to everything her family wanted when she was young, and she’d transferred that acquiescence to her husband after she married. It had nearly destroyed her life.

But after she’d been on her own, she’d begun to trust her own instincts, and her instincts were screaming that they should keep their past as secret as possible. So it didn’t sit well with her when he stepped in to take over her life as if she should have no say.

“Isa,” he said quietly. “You know damned well that if we don’t resolve this problem with Gerhart and Jacoba, they will come back one day—perhaps when Amalie is about to get married, or you’re heavy with our second child—whenever we least expect it. And they will attempt to wreak havoc again. I know better than anyone that family secrets rarely remain buried.”

He was right. But that didn’t lessen her terror of what might happen when he opened the Pandora’s box of their past for the world to see.

When she didn’t answer, he took her gloved hand and lifted it to his lips for a kiss. “It’s too late to stop Tristan and Dom from coming,
lieveke.
I sent them an express yesterday, and if I know them, they’ll be here before the house party is over.”

He hesitated, then added, “But I didn’t tell them why I needed them, only that it was urgent. So if, by the time they arrive, you’re still uncomfortable with their involvement, I’ll keep silent about why we’re seeking your relations. How’s that?”

A lump stuck in her throat. He was trying. He really was trying. “That’s all I ask—that you consider what I want, before you go off and follow your own instincts.”

He sighed. “I’ll do my best. But it’s been a long time since I had a wife.”

“I know. And a long time since I had a husband.”

They finally smiled at each other, and were silent awhile.

Then she brought up what she’d been thinking about during their discussion of income earlier. “Is there no possibility of us living in Edinburgh? Perhaps you could do some investigative work here.”

His expression was thoughtful. “I suppose it’s possible.” He glanced over at her. “But I’ve just begun to know my family. I would like to know them better if I can. And there’s no reason you can’t open a shop in London. You might make more money there.”

She eyed him askance. “I’m sure your cousin will be delighted to have one of his relations in trade.”

“That’s a good point. We’ll have to see how that will sit with him. Then again, his wife’s family runs Manton’s Investigations, so he obviously doesn’t stand on ceremony as much as a duke generally does.”

His cousin sounded more intriguing by the moment. Perhaps he wouldn’t look down on her so much after all.

“There’s another, more important consideration,” he put in. “Amalie could go to school in London, and then you wouldn’t have to send her away.”

Isa hadn’t thought of that. “That is indeed an important consideration. And one that might just tip the balance.” She glanced at him. “I miss her so, when she’s gone.”

He met her gaze with a smile, and her heart flipped over. Perhaps everything could work out after all. Assuming that her relations stopped plaguing them.

Victor was right: They couldn’t go on with the past hanging over their heads. They had to resolve the problem of Jacoba and Gerhart before it destroyed their lives again.

T
HREE DAYS INTO
the house party, Victor roused to the feel of his wife’s soft hand stroking his hard cock.

Instantly awake, he murmured, “You’ve become inordinately fond of this game.”

A provocative smile curved her lips. “And I suppose you haven’t?”

“I didn’t say that.” He leaned over to kiss her deeply.

He never tired of kissing her, never tired of taking her. Perhaps one day he would, but it had become an unrelenting obsession as he made up for all the years without her.

Rolling her beneath him, he lifted her nightdress to enter her and found her wet, warm, and willing, which only fired his desire more. When she rose to his thrusts with great enthusiasm, it spurred him into madness.

Her new boldness intoxicated him. In his youth, he’d loved her shy blushes, but now that he wasn’t so young anymore, he loved having a lusty bed partner.

Some time later, they’d both found their release and lay there breathing hard, entangled in each other’s arms. He buried his face in her neck to kiss the rapid pulse at her throat. God, who’d have guessed a month ago that he’d be spending his nights in the arms of his wife again? It still seemed like a miracle.

After a few moments, she left the bed to dress. He sat up and leaned back against the bedstead to watch. Strange how he’d forgotten so many little things about her—the way she’d never liked to linger in bed, the way she did her ablutions . . . the way her hips swayed as she walked.

When that made him harden, he swore. He had to curb his randy urges before he wore the poor woman out and drove her away again.

No, he hadn’t driven her away, he reminded himself. He must stop thinking like that. She wanted him, had always wanted him. Hell, if she hadn’t balked at his having a mad kidnapper of a father and a tavern wench mother, nothing was going to drive her off. What a fool he’d been, to keep so many secrets from her when they’d married. Perhaps if he hadn’t, they wouldn’t have lost so much time together.

“Well?” she asked as she shimmied into her corset. “Are you going to get up?”

“I suppose I must, if I’m to play lady’s maid,” he drawled.

She lifted an eyebrow. “I could always call for a servant and let her get a look at you lying there in the altogether.”

Chuckling, he left the bed. That was something the old Isa would
never
have said. Her lack of modesty around him was another new thing that he enjoyed.

“Remind me—what does Lady Lochlaw have planned for us today?” he asked as he laced her up.

“I suppose, since the day has dawned fair for a change, we’ll finally get to play that Scottish game called ‘golf’ that Rupert loves so much.”

He groaned. “I hate games. They’re pointless.”

“I think it sounds fun. It involves hitting a ball with a club into a series of holes along a lengthy course.” She cast him a teasing glance. “If you really don’t want to play, you can always just walk around holding my club for me.”

“I’d rather you hold
my
club,” he said, pressing his budding erection against her from behind.

“No more of that, now. Rupert wants us on the lawn by nine. He’s afraid it will rain before we can complete a full game.”

Victor snorted. “What a pity that would be.” But he began to dress. If Lochlaw wanted them on the lawn, then her ladyship would want
him
on the lawn, and he did owe the woman for not blaming Manton’s Investigations for his subterfuges.

Isa finished dressing before he did, so he told her to go on. He knew she liked a hearty breakfast, whereas he almost never ate it.

He was heading downstairs when a servant met him with a note. Tristan and Dom had arrived in Edinburgh. The servant asked if there was any answer, and
Victor wrote a reply asking the two men to come to the estate as soon as possible. Then he charged the servant with getting the note to them in all haste. Isa wasn’t going to be happy to hear this.

When he reached the lawn, he saw the others heading for the course that ranged over a flat portion of the estate bounded by woods. Good. There’d be no chance to speak to Isa alone for a while. She deserved a few hours of fun before she had to start worrying about Jacoba and Gerhart again.

The morning passed more quickly than he’d expected. After a while, he began to enjoy watching as his wife attempted futilely to master the game. Every time she missed, she muttered to herself, then complained about her faulty club. She was a sore loser, his wife, another thing he hadn’t known about her.

She also had quite an arm on her, for she kept striking the little leather ball too hard. Indeed, when she came up to hit it this time, she knocked it so far that it sailed over the green area around the hole and into the nearby woods.

When he laughed and she glared at him, he couldn’t resist teasing, “You’ve confused this game with archery, Mrs. Cale. The object isn’t to hit a tree.”

“I did that on purpose,” she said, tipping up her chin. “It’s more of a challenge to hit it out of the woods.”

He snorted. “If you can even find it in there.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Care to place a wager on that? If I hit the ball back onto the course
from the woods, you have to take my place and show me you can do better at this than I.”

“And if you don’t?” he asked.

“I’ll make you
banketstaaf
,” she said with a smile.

“Will you lick your fingers when you’re done?”

Color rose in her cheeks. “Victor! Don’t be rude!”

But he saw her smiling as she began the long trek toward the other end of the course.

As she’d watched them banter, Miss Gordon had worn a guarded expression. But when Isa paused to look back, then stuck her tongue out at him, the young woman burst into laughter. It pleased Victor to see Miss Gordon coming out of her shell under Isa’s encouragement. She was even wearing those ridiculous purple walking shoes Lochlaw had bought.

“Can’t you do something about this?” said a female voice at his elbow.

Lady Lochlaw. Damnation.

He shot her a sideways glance. Though her evening gowns were provocatively low-cut, the baroness had the good sense to dress fairly modestly during the day. But she flirted so outrageously with the male guests that several of the wives were beginning to grumble. Even Isa had made a few arch remarks regarding the baroness.

Not that he blamed her. Lady Lochlaw was shameless.

“About what?” he said smoothly, though he had a pretty good idea of the source of her disgruntlement.

“My son. And that . . . that daughter of a tradesman.”

“Ah, you mean Miss Gordon.”

“Of course I mean Miss Gordon. Don’t be impudent.” She glanced over to where Lochlaw was showing Miss Gordon the proper way to hold a golf club, and Miss Gordon was gazing up at him adoringly. “It won’t even do me any good to hire you to find out all her dark secrets. A chit like that is too young to have any.”

“I should hope so.” He watched as Isa disappeared into the woods after her ball. “I understand why you didn’t like your son taking up with an older woman you believed to be a widow. But why don’t you approve of a young, well-bred maiden?”

“Well-bred—hah!”

He decided to give Lochlaw a little help. “You do know that she has quite a substantial dowry, don’t you?”