Always a Scoundrel (28 page)

The sounds became more muffled and then subsided. A few minutes after that, a half-dozen men emerged from Gore House, Wyatt at their front and Lord Hawthorne behind. In the middle and securely bound, a gag across his mouth, was Cosgrove.

He fought, but they pushed him to the waiting coach. As they hoisted him up, he sent a frantic glance around him—and saw Bram.

Bram met his gaze, resisting the urge to smirk or salute or wave. After all, he’d just condemned a man to a fate worse than death. Given that he knew Cosgrove probably better than any man alive he couldn’t regret it, but neither could he rejoice. If not for meeting Rosamund, that might one day have been his own family getting rid of
him
.

Once the coach rolled out of sight, he drew in the reins and sent Titan to Davies House. He checked his pocket watch as he topped the steps. Five minutes of noon. Apparently he’d become prompt as well as benevolent.

“If you’ll wait in the foyer, my lord,” the butler said.

Oh, damn
. Back to that again. “Very well.”

While he kicked his heels and waited to see whether Rosamund had come to her senses and changed her
mind about him, he reached into his pocket for Sullivan’s letter. The former soldier in him found it rather amusing that out of everything he’d done over the past weeks, this moment of this morning was the one that terrified him.

“Don’t be foolish simply because you’re grateful to him,” Rose’s father said. “If he even makes an appearance.”

“Isn’t that why we’re all hiding in the library?” Rose returned. “Because you think he
will
make an appearance?”

“Tell her what you told me, Lewis. About his prospects.” Lady Abernathy returned to her embroidery.

“Levonzy cut him off four months ago. Unless he makes his living from wagering, he’ll be destitute by the end of the year.”

“Especially since he gave you eight thousand pounds!” Rose retorted. What hypocrisy. So Cosgrove had been acceptable despite his monstrous behavior simply because he had wealth. And a title, of course.

“The fact remains, he has a terrible reputation, no hope of inheriting a title or a fortune, and his one source of income has been removed.”

Elbon knocked at the door and leaned in. “My lord, you wished to be informed when Lord Bramwell Johns arrived. He is here.”

Rose’s heart skittered. He’d come. And on time. The craving to see him had been growing in her since they’d parted company at the soiree last night. Now, knowing he was just downstairs, all she wanted to do was flee the room and go to him.

“Thank you, Elbon. That will be all.”

With a nod, the butler vanished again. Lord Abernathy looked from her to his wife. “I’ll get rid of him for you, Rose. You needn’t do it yourself.”

“I don’t want to get rid of him, Papa. Haven’t you listened to me at all?”

“I don’t listen to nonsense.”

Rose clenched her jaw. “I—”

Taking a deep breath, James stood from his seat on the windowsill. “Go down to see him, Rose,” he said. “As you said before, you’ve been given a second chance. Take it.”

With a swift smile, grateful to have even an unlikely ally, Rose pulled open the door and hurried down the hallway to the main staircase. Bram stood in the foyer, a piece of paper in his hands and an absorbed look on his face. She paused on the landing just to look at him.

Today he wore gray and tan. The only black thing on his person, other than his eyes and hair, were his polished Hessian boots. He looked so handsome. And he thought her beautiful.

“You know I can see you up there,” he drawled after a moment, facing her.

“I didn’t wish to interrupt your reading.”

“Ah. Thank you, then. Now come down here, if you please.” With that, he backed into the morning room.

As soon as she crossed the threshold he was on her, pressing her back against the wall with the force of his kisses. She surrendered to the sensation, opening her mouth to him, moaning as he stroked his hands down to her hips, pulling her against his lean, hard body.

“That’s better,” he murmured after a very long time, leaning his forehead against hers.

Rose swooped in for another kiss. “I think you should marry me,” she whispered, sliding her hands into his hair.

He froze, then lifted his face up a few inches to look down at her. “I was going to do that, you know.”

“I wasn’t certain. You seem to have a very bad opinion of yourself, which I don’t share.”

“Mm hm. First I need to confess something.”

A slight chill went down her spine. “Confess what?”

“I did one last bad deed this morning.”

“You didn’t burgle someone else’s house, did you?”

With a far more solemn expression than she wanted to see on his face, he shook his head. “No. I went to see Cosgrove’s cousin. His heir presumptive.”

“Oh. Why?”

“To convince him that the absinthe had made King mad, and that he needed to be carted off to Bedlam. I seem to have broken another commandment.”

Oh, heavens
. She studied his expression for a moment, half expecting him to wink or to confess that he was just making a jest. Instead he sighed.

“He began this game, and I finished it. And we both know that while he was a monster, he wasn’t mad. But he’ll have a difficult time convincing anyone of that now. Ever.”

“You mean they’ve already taken him away?”

“Yes. If he could have been reasoned with, I wouldn’t have gone to that extreme. But I’ve known him for better than ten years, and I’ve seen him leave death and sorrow in his wake. I couldn’t risk that. Not now.” He ran a finger along her cheek. “I wanted you to know before we proceeded.” He cleared his throat. “Now that you know, should we proceed?”

Oh, heavens, he was nervous. And as awful as Cosgrove’s fate might be, she couldn’t help believing that he deserved every minute of it. For a brief moment she considered how lucky both she and James and the rest of her family had been that Bram had chosen to take their side in this. As caring as he’d been toward her, she never, ever, would have wanted him as an enemy. The marquis should have realized that, as well.

“Rosamund, you’re going to give me an apoplexy.”

She shook herself. “Yes, that would be acceptable.”

He took her hands, guiding her over to a chair. She seated herself, and then, her fingers still clasped in his, he sank to his knees. “The letter I was just reading changed what I was going to say to you,” he said quietly, his lips curving. “I was going to say that I would make amends to my father and do my utmost to be a good son so that he would reinstate me and resume giving me my monthly stipend.”

“You’re not planning on taking that path now, I presume?”

“No. Sullivan has in his considerable wisdom decided to leave London again. He doesn’t like Town very much, as you may have gathered.”

“Yes, I had that feeling.”

“Well, with the way his reputation and his business have been growing, he’s offered me the task of arranging his London showings and sales. He’s actually offered me a partnership in his business. Since I don’t wish to drag him into ruin, I will very likely attempt to do a fine job at it. How does that sound to you?”

Rose chuckled. She couldn’t help it. “I think it sounds wonderful.”

“Good. Because I’m finding that I rely on you to be my conscience—at least until my own grows past the infant stage.”

If he didn’t have hold of her hands, she would have hugged him. “Your conscience is a beautiful thing as it is,” she said, her voice breaking a little. “And if I haven’t said so already, I love you. So much that I wouldn’t care if you decided we should be pirates and roam the seven seas.”

Bram lifted an eyebrow. “Truly? Because that sounds a great deal more fun than horse breeding.”

Before she could respond, he leaned up and kissed her again. “I love you.” Another kiss. “You’ve given me back a future I didn’t think I would have.” Another kiss. “I will be a good husband to you.” Another kiss. “I will never, ever stray. I swear it. I swear it twice.”

A tear ran down her cheek. “I know that. As I keep telling you, you are an honorable man.”

“But perhaps I could still remain a little bit of scoundrel, yes?”

She laughed. “Yes. A little bit.”

“Then marry me, Rosamund. Will you?”

She gazed into those witty, compassionate, clever black eyes. “Since you have a confession, I have one, as well.”

His smile faded a little. “What is it?”

“In eight months or so, there’s a fairly good chance that you are going to have a larger family than you might have intended.”

He blinked. He stared at her. And then Bram Johns let out a whoop, shot to his feet, and pulled her out of her chair. Holding her around the waist, he swung her in a circle. She knew she’d been right not to tell him before,
because in the back of his mind he would always have questioned whether he’d become this new, exceptional man out of a misplaced sense of responsibility or because that was what he’d wanted.

“I still want to hear you say it, Rosamund. Say you’ll marry me.”

Oh, she would marry him twice, if she could
. “Yes, I will marry you, Bram. There’s no escape for you now.”

With a soft chuckle, he kissed her once more. “I have no wish to escape.”

“Good. Because that would be very troublesome.”

“I love you,” he said again, laughing harder as he set her down. “By God, you’re an unusual woman.”

“I love you, Bram. And you are an unusual man.”

“Together I believe we have a very good chance of setting Mayfair on its ear quite regularly.”

Oh, she hoped so.

Three years later

“How the devil did this happen?” Bram folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame of Sullivan Waring’s upstairs sitting room at Amberglen in East Sussex.

“The mess?” Phin asked, looking up from his seat on the floor and the tower of playing cards in front of him.

“Or…this?” Sullivan, seated on the couch, gestured at the room in general.

“Both.” Pushing upright, Bram made his way around the pile of wooden pull toys and a rocking horse to take the chair in front of the fire. “I went looking for a bottle in your desk, Sullivan,” he drawled, “and do you know what I found?”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“I found a bottle. Except that instead of whiskey, it was full of dirt. And worms.”

“Ah. That would be Henry’s,” Sullivan said, grinning. “He knows worms like dark places. Last week I found a sock full of them in one of my boots. Before I stepped into it, luckily.”

“And what is young Henry planning on doing with all of the worms in East Sussex?” Bram pursued, lifting an eyebrow.

“They’re for fishing,” young Henry Waring answered, grimacing as he carefully lifted another pair of cards onto Phin’s tower. “I did it, Uncle Phin!”

“You’ve a steady hand, Henry,” Phin congratulated him, reaching over to lift up the crawling infant heading for the tower and aiming the cheeky little chit in the opposite direction.

“Splendid, Phin, send your daughter toward the fireplace.” Sullivan leaned down to pick up the baby. “Your papa has hay for brains, Sarah, yes, he does.” The infant giggled in response.

“I knew you were there,” Phin grumbled. “And yours has vanished by the by, Bram. No idea where to find her.” He angled his chin behind the chair where Bram sat.

“I should have known you lot would lose my daughter as soon as I left the room,” Bram said, stretching. “Now I’ve lost my April. Whatever will I do?” Curling his left arm back, he touched silky hair. “Wait a moment, what is this?” Walking his fingers up, he laid his palm over a small head. “I say, I’ve found a pumpkin!”

A shriek of laughter answered him. “It’s me, Papa!”

The lithe, dark-haired sprite swarmed around the side
of the chair and climbed into his lap. Even at just over two years old, April Marie Johns was a beauty. And far too wise for her years. He kissed her on the forehead, still dazed as he considered that he and Rosamund had made this little miracle.

“Would you have thought, Bram,” Sullivan said as he played pince-nez with Phin’s nine-month-old daughter, “that we would ever end like this?”

Bram took a slow breath. Peace was a new and rare sensation for him, and it was one he coveted. “No, I would not.” His gaze lifted as Rosamund strolled into the room, Alyse and Isabel behind her. His light, his heaven, his joy, all the more precious because he’d thought never to deserve such a gift.

“What are you smiling at?” she asked, taking a seat on the arm of his chair and coiling an arm around his shoulder as she leaned against him.

“That you’re foolish enough to have yet another infant with me,” he murmured, lifting his free hand to twine his fingers with hers.

“Another one?” Sullivan repeated, straightening. “You’ve lost any chance now to escape him, Rose. You do realize that.”

Rosamund gave an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, I know he’s a bit of a scoundrel, but he does clean up well, at least.”

Amid the general laughter and congratulations, Bram kept his gaze on his wife. Somewhere in all of his past misdeeds he must have done at least one good turn, to find such a woman. And to find such friends. They hadn’t done poorly at all, for such a group of notorious gentlemen. Not bad, at all.