A Convenient Bride (37 page)

Turning to tease him with a scolding look, she smiled and slipped into her chemise, which she found lying on the stool.

“Hush, darling.” She scooped up James, pressed kisses on his downy soft head, and claimed the chair. While she fed him, Richard rolled to a sit on the edge of the bed and scratched his jaw with both hands.

Brenna’s heart welled. With Richard’s hair mussed and the sleepy-boyish look on his face, father and son were the image of each other. And she deeply loved them both.

“We must teach our son to wait until morning is in full bloom before demanding his breakfast,” Richard said. “His hours should match those of his parents.”

James closed his fingers around Brenna’s fingertip.

“If his father were not so demanding himself, he might not be so tired this morning. He kept us both up to the wee hours slaking his own hunger,” she teased.

He narrowed his eyes. “The noises you were making during those same wee hours were not words of complaint. I’d know the difference.”

Brenna laughed softly as Richard shot her a warm look and padded out of the room. She cooed to the baby and thought of the change in her life over the last several hours. Richard was hers now, forever, and she vowed to carefully tend to his, and her own, happiness.

Dressed in trousers, Richard returned and walked to the crib. He grabbed one end with both hands and, without a word, dragged it toward the open sitting-room door.

“Richard—?”

He didn’t pause but vanished within, the feet of the crib scraping loudly across the polished wood floor. After a few minutes of the sounds of the crib being moved around his room, silence fell, then the pad of his bare feet coming back.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“From this moment forward, the three of us will be sharing my room. Permanently. Your bed is too small for my comfort, and I grow weary of moving you back and forth.” He stretched his back as if to prove his point. “I’ve discovered that I like waking with you in my arms. I intend to do so every morning from here on.”

Without allowing her to comment, he walked back through the sitting room, unaware of the happy grin he’d left behind.

Tears welled in her eyes as she smiled down at her son. Richard had not declared his undying love for her, but knowing he cared enough to insist she share his bed was enough for now.

“I love your father,” she whispered to James. “I certainly do.” She lifted his hand to her mouth. “And I love you, too.”

R
ichard arrived at breakfast before Brenna and found the table empty save George. The man was red-eyed and yawning over his coddled eggs and toast. He appeared to have been run over by a coach-and-four. Richard and Brenna weren’t the only members of the household who did not rest well last evening.

Richard muttered a good morning and went to the sideboard.

Piling up his plate, he took a seat across from George. “Where is Miriam?” he asked. “She is usually the first up.”

George gave him a funny look. “She has not been seen in two days, since she rode off to the village. I thought you knew.”

Stopping his fork midway to his mouth, Richard slowly lowered it to his plate, his mouth slightly open. “She is missing?”

The other man shrugged. “Bethany told me she has a lover. Someone whose name she would not say. We assumed she’s run off with the man. Miriam is just desperate enough to do so. She falls easily in love.”

A wave of guilt prickled through Richard. With the turbulence of his relationship with Brenna and his concerns over the dead maid, he had not noticed that Miriam was gone.

He pushed to his feet. “Where is Bethany?”

“She packed and left this morning,” George said. “She’s decided to stay with a friend in Bath.” He shrugged. “She finally gave up hope of becoming your viscountess.”

“Damn.” He went in search of Jones. The man was shrugging into his coat when Richard banged the bedroom door open and entered without leave.

“Good morning to you, Milord,” Jones said, and waved off the valet. “I assume you did not come to tell me the ham is especially tasty this morning?”

“Did you know Miriam was missing?”

“I did,” Jones said. “Freemont went into the village to look for her and was told she was seen riding west with a man in a black coat and hat. Since she was known to have a lover, and she has not been found murdered, we deduced she’d run off.”

Richard shook his head. “Am I the only one who did not know she had a lover? That she’s missing?” He clenched his fists. Beckwith Hall was his, and he knew little about the goings-on inside these walls.

“I believe the missing Miriam matter was briefly mentioned at supper last evening,” Jones said, with a knowing smile. “I believe you were too busy staring at your wife like a besotted schoolboy to catch the exchange.”

With his patience at an end, Richard chose to ignore the
comment. Truthfully, his mind had been so occupied by Brenna and the murder over the last few days, there was little room for anything else.

Guilt formed. Miriam was his friend, and he’d failed her. “Are there any indications to the identity of this man?”

“None.” Jones tugged at his cuffs. “Unless she decides to return, there is little we can do. She is a woman grown.”

First Anne, then Miriam, and now Bethany was gone, too.

Sighing, Richard dropped into a chair. He could not dwell on the flighty nature of the women of Beckwith Hall—excluding Brenna, of course—as there was a murder left to solve. Miriam would contact them in her own time.

If only he’d talked to her before she’d run off. Now he might never have the chance.

“Have you discovered any new clues about Clara’s murder?” he asked.

Jones walked to the wardrobe and reached inside. He pulled out a pistol and slid it into his waistband. “Only one maid knew anything about her. She said Clara had been secretive over the last week, like something was amiss. However, the woman did not have any details, as she did not know Clara well, and they did not share confidences.”

“And the Bow Street Runners?”

“Freemont managed to find out something. The Runners examined Clara’s body and concluded she’d died of strangulation. They are sending men out across the area to see what they can find. So far the killer has left little to point to his identity.”

Richard tapped a fist on the chair arm. “This is frustrating. We are chasing a ghost.”

His mind went to his family, his staff, and his tenants, everyone who lived on his property and needed his protection. With a madman lurking, no one was safe.

“Our killer has been hiding for several years now,” Jones agreed. “He has perfected his game. It will take a mistake to flush him into the light. We must keep alert and wary.”

“Alert is not enough; we need guards. I want to hire your men to guard the property. I want everyone you have. The cost is no issue.”

Jones nodded. “My men are trained fighters and former
soldiers. There is no better group for this task. I shall send for them immediately.”

Richard watched him go. One worry was taken care of and many more competed for dominance in his mind. Brenna and James would soon be heavily guarded, Bethany was safely away, and with guards roaming the grounds, the likelihood of the killer returning to his property was slim. Still, there was one concern he could not shake: Miriam’s disappearance.

Had she gone off willingly with her lover as suspected, or had she fallen under the influence of a killer, who’d used her to glean information about his family and staff, and then led her off to an uncertain fate?

B
renna watched the arrival of the guards from the bedroom window. Several coaches pulled to a stop in front of the hall, and the men alighted.

They were all different in age and size, and gave off an air of confidence, as the trained fighters they were.

Pleased with Richard’s plan, she left James with Nanny and the footman, and joined her husband in the foyer. Up close, the men were even more intimidating. They were all stern-faced and ready to protect Beckwith Hall.

“The guards look positively menacing,” she whispered to Richard, as Jace led them into the hall. She did not need to see the weapons under their coats to know they were armed. Jace would leave nothing to chance.

“Jones picked each one for his skills.” He drew her hand to his mouth. “You and our son will be safe.”

The tension between her shoulder blades eased as Brenna watched the last man enter the hall. There were a full dozen men, excluding Jace and Mister Freemont. Mrs. Beal and Joseph began the process of getting the men settled into the empty rooms on the servants’ floor.

The maids rushed about, carrying bedding and trays of food. Though the men were considered employees and not guests, they would be well taken care of.

Lucy watched the commotion from halfway down the stairs. She pulled her skirts aside when the men passed, and
took care not to take special interest in Mister Freemont. The more she ignored him, the more he watched her.

Mister Freemont frowned but said nothing as he passed her. When he was out of sight, a small secretive smile escaped her.

When she finished her descent and joined Brenna and Richard, Richard excused himself. Brenna’s eyes narrowed. “Must you torture poor Mister Freemont?”

Lucy shrugged. “He paid far too much interest in that awful Bethany. I will not be his second choice now that she’s gone.”

“He paid attention to her because you ignored him.” Brenna crossed her arms. A pair of maids rushed past. “I remember a certain companion who pointed out to me that my husband had no interest in Bethany and that I should see what was in front of my eyes. I think she should take her own advice when it comes to Mister Freemont.”

“Hmm.” Lucy sniffed. “You act as if I have some interest in the man. Just because I find him handsome does not make him a proper man to court me. I was a courtesan. That will make some men flee.”

“You will not know unless you speak to him.” Brenna tapped her foot. “His reaction will tell you much about his character.”

Sobering, Lucy looked up the staircase. Mister Freemont was no longer in view. “Even a good man can be put off by my former profession. I fear seeing condemnation in his eyes.”

Brenna’s heart tugged. She hugged Lucy. “You are a wonderful person and friend. If he cannot see what I see, then he is not the right man for you.”

They leaned back, holding each other’s arms. “I am still in mourning. I think it is too soon for another suitor,” Lucy said. “Perhaps I shall take the path of spinsterhood. It is much less troublesome than risking my heart.”

The dejection in her friend’s voice pricked Brenna’s temper. “I never thought of you as a coward, Lucy.” She watched Lucy’s face flash from miserable to angry. This pleased her immensely.

“I am not a coward,” Lucy snapped. Then she must have realized Brenna’s game. She let out a thoroughly exasperated
sigh. “I do not know why I keep you as my friend. You do know how to rile me up.”

Brenna hooked her arm in Lucy’s. “We are too much alike not to be friends, and you know I adore you.” She led Lucy through the foyer. “Since the day is sunny, I think we should collect James, and a guard, and enjoy some time in the garden.”

M
ister Freemont was subjected to over an hour of torment in the form of a pair of women and a baby. Brenna had deliberately chosen him to watch over them, then spent most of their time together asking him questions about his life, generally interjecting herself into his privacy. He answered most queries politely while pointedly ignoring Lucy.

Lucy tended James, pretending disinterest, though Brenna knew her ears were locked on their conversation.

“I understand that you were a soldier?” Brenna asked.

Mister Freemont looked pained. “I was.”

“And you fought against Napoleon?” She wondered when he’d be pushed to the end of his patience, but he forged on with calm indulgence.

“I did.”

Brenna glanced over at Lucy seated on the garden bench rocking James. The baby began to fuss. Lucy tried several ways to soothe him, but the boy was not pleased with her efforts.

“I think it’s time for his nap.” Brenna walked over and reclaimed her son. The interrogation of Mister Freemont was over. “You two are welcome to stay and enjoy the garden. The flowers are particularly fragrant.”

Without pause, she hurried off, giving Lucy no choice but to accept Mister Freemont’s company.

Once she returned to the bedroom, she went to the window and looked down into the garden, giving into her desire to snoop. From her position, she could see Lucy and Mister Freemont strolling briskly up the path. Neither appeared happy.

Her shoulders slumped. Her attempt to match-make had failed. Perhaps Lucy was correct and Mister Freemont was not the man for her.

“Shall we feed you, love?” Brenna moved away from the
window and curled up with him on the bed. Once James was fed and asleep, Brenna rose to remove her dress. She returned to the bed, pulled the quilt over them, and joined him in his nap.

R
ichard spent several hours with Jones, planning where the guards would take positions around the manor and grounds, and the shifts each would cover.

Once he was satisfied that Jones had everything taken care of, he went off in search of his wife. He found her asleep on the bed, cuddled up with their son.

He stood in the open doorway for several minutes, his heart softened by the scene. Never once had he thought the impulsive, sometimes reckless, and stubborn Miss Brenna Harrington would turn into such an excellent mother and wife.

The bed drew him, and he lay down on the other side of James, reaching across the boy to place a hand on Brenna’s hip. Her soft scent and warmth washed away all the tension he’d felt over the last few hours. When he was with her, she had the ability to make him forget anything but her.

Brenna drew in a deep breath, and her eyes opened. She saw him watching her and smiled. “Richard.”

In that moment, with his eyes on hers, Richard realized that in spite of his protests to the contrary, and all his best efforts to keep his heart protected, he’d done what he feared most.