An Unmistakable Rogue (21 page)

“Look, Kitty.” Luke sat on the bed with a book, his brothers and sister looking over his shoulder. “It’s got people who lived in 1622, see. Then when their children grew up, it’s got them, and their children, over here. This says 1757, and this one—”

“It’s a parish register,” Chastity said, wiping her damp palm on her skirt before taking it. She wished she could remember Reed’s age. “But I cannot.”

“Cannot what?” Luke asked.

“If I knew the date the St. Yves twins were born, I could look them up.”

“May 4th, 1787,” Luke said.

“How do you know?”

“I saw it on a stone in the chapel when I got the cradle Reed didn’t let Bekah keep.”

“You’re too smart for your own britches.”

“Mum always said so.”

Mark snorted, and Luke took exception. Locked in combat, they rolled to the floor.

Chastity ignored the spat and continued to search for 1787 listings, the beat of her heart, her only distraction.

When she found the entry, prickles raced up her arms and legs. She sat on the bed, her fingers trembling as she traced the words.
Born this day to the Lady Clarissa St. Yves, twin boys, rescued and given into the sacred keeping of Emily Gilbride, midwife, and Lily Somers, maid. Under penalty of eternal damnation, neither boy will know of the other’s existence or the manner and location of his birth. May 4th, in the year of our Lord, 1787. God’s will be done.

Chastity’s sob emerged as a strangled combination of elation and regret. Reed was the Barrington heir. She could barely take it in. He had been born in the tower. She remembered his pain as they stood there. He knew, even then. Somehow, in that place, he sensed the truth.

The next entry made Chastity want to weep the more. Given up to God this day, the Lady Clarissa St. Yves, born April 9, 1769. Died May 4th 1787. She suffered mightily for her sins.

“She was only eighteen years old,” Chastity wailed.

“Kitty, look, this letter is addressed to y—”

“Bekah, let me up. I have to send Mr. Sennett a note.”

“But Kitty, this is your—”

“Find Bekah’s shoes, Mark, will you. We’re going to the village, as soon as I— I have to copy something.”

“It must be good,” Matt said. “You’re smiling.”

Chastity hugged him. “Yes, I’m smiling. And yes, it’s something good. Wonderful.”

“But Kitty—”

“Hush, Luke.” She had never been as happy about anything, except finding the children and loving Reed, as she was to discover Reed’s heritage. Yes, this meant that she and the children would lose Sunnyledge, but he deserved to know who he was. She wished he were here, so she could throw herself into his arms and shout the good news.

As soon as Mr. Sennett received her copy, he would locate Reed, while she and the children looked for another house. But she could not tell the children yet. They would worry about where they were going to live. They had worried enough in their young lives. She would tell them after she knew where they were going.

On their way to the village to send the copy to Mr. Sennett, Chastity imagined they were being followed, but on their way back, when a pheasant went screeching into the air, Bekah said, “Luke did it,” making them all laugh and cutting the tension.

Upon their return, Chastity put them to bed, donned her wrapper and went to the library. Her mind was so full of questions; it would be hours before she could sleep.

One minute she was elated over finding the proof of Reed’s birth, the next, thoughts of Thea intruded. As far as the woman was concerned, Chastity had gone beyond dislike and was well into frightened witless.

And Reed. She loved him so much, she could not believe she would never see him again. She swallowed a rising sob. For the sake of the children, she could not mourn. She must look to their future. The memory of his love would always be hers, but she wished—oh how she wished—that Reed’s son slept below her heart, even now. She closed her eyes and placed her hand there, still awed by Reed’s explanation of conception. She imagined herself rocking a babe with honey gold eyes, until a noise outside shot her to her feet.

Fear, panic, the children’s safety, all filled her mind as she ran to the kitchen for a knife and returned to watch the door. ‘Twas a wonder her teeth didn’t chatter. She had not been this frightened that first night, though she had not known
Thea
back then.

The doorknob turned.

If not Thea, then who? Was a known evil better than an unknown one? She prayed Reed’s locks would hold. Despite herself, she crept forward, knife raised.

A sudden beating on the door frightened her into a scream.

“Damnation, Chastity, let me in.”

With shaking fingers and a sob of relief, she unlatched the door ... and a body hurtled across the foyer, and came to a sliding stop at the base of the stairs. Reed rose on an elbow. “Why do you greet me with a knife every damn time I come through that door?”

Chastity dropped the knife with a glad cry and threw herself into his arms.

“Just once more,” Reed said between kisses. “I needed to love you one more time.”

“Yes,” Chastity said. Before I must leave you forever. She would tell him tomorrow about her find and his heritage. Tonight was for loving.

Reed carried her up the stairs and into his room. They said little; no time between kisses. “I could not leave without saying good-bye.” He peeled away her clothes.

“I thought I’d die if I never saw you again. This will do. It will do,” she kept saying.

“It must,” he confirmed, adoring her with his mouth, knowing he would take his final leave in the morning. “It will.” It was out of their hands now.  He would tell her tomorrow that he was giving her Sunnyledge, that they had no choice but to live separate lives. Tomorrow.

Tonight would be theirs.

Reed made his way to her breast. How he loved to suckle her. He was hard and ready. She rocked against him, but he slowed their pace. “Wait, love. Let’s make it last. Tonight, I want you to know all the possibilities.”

“Good Lord, there are more? What sweet suffering.”

“Incredibly sweet,” he whispered against her mouth, between her breasts, along her belly, and lower still, until she called his name.

“Come inside me.” Give me your son, she dare not say.

With a moan, he did, and when she received his seed, she wept with joy, and then she wept for what could never be.

They loved in that hungry way the whole night through.

She was gone from his bed when he woke. A bittersweet loving, it had been. A joyful sorrow, she would be to remember.

Chastity ... stepping out a workhouse window in the middle of the night, dignified, righteous, four urchins in tow ... soapsuds on her lash, arms around his neck, an innocent seductress.

... cobwebs and spiders in her hair ... milking a cow named Leonardo ... bathing his wound in tears.

... hugging four grubby, dishonest, wonderful children.

... cooking a rabbit disguised as a chicken.

... burning bread, kissing him, loving him. Making him want, and want. Teaching him to give, and love, and share, and care. She had even taught him that a successful seduction—though he would be hard-put to say who seduced who—does not negate need, but increases it.

If only she had taught him how to go on without her.

Bekah came dragging in, head down, shoulders shaking. “Want Weed,” she sobbed.

“Come here, Poppet,” he said, making sure he was covered.

Bekah looked up, shocked, delighted. “Weed!” She launched herself into his arms. She was a lot like Chastity, as she rained kisses on his face, and he laughed under the onslaught. Surely his tears were from laughter, he thought, as he wiped them away.

The boys came running. “Reed’s back.” They were all over him. Another pig pile. He laughed again.

“Are you naked under there?” Luke asked, lifting the blanket.

Reed slapped it down. “Of course not. A gentleman never asks, or answers, such questions.”

“A gentleman don’t sleep naked. Does he?”

“When he’s a grown man, sometimes he does.”

“When will I know I’m grown enough?”

“You’ll know.”

“Will Kitty let me?”

“You’ll be too grown to need her permission. She’ll know when the time comes.”

“And if she doesn’t, you’ll make her, won’t you Reed?”

Reed sat straighter, blanket secure, feeling at a disadvantage having such a conversation, unclothed. “I will not be staying, Luke. I cannot.”

“Because Chastity didn’t tell you she had a husband who is dead, and he had a letter,” Luke said. “We know. She told us. She cried a lot, but she’s sorry, Reed. She really is.”

“No,” Reed said, squeezing a shoulder, tweaking a nose. “I forgave her for that. She did not mean to hide anything. I know it, now. No, it’s because of something that cannot be changed.”

“Dumb reason,” Matt said.

“Mark said we don’t need you, anyway,” Luke said. “He called you a bastard.”

Reed chuckled. “I probably am.”

Mark raised his chin and crossed his arms. “We don’t need you. We don’t need anybody.”

“You do, but you’ll probably be a grown man before you admit it. I hope you admit it some day, though.”

“We got somethin’ to show you,” Luke said. “Don’t move.”

“As if I could,” Reed said, Bekah in his arms. “As if I’d want to,” he said kissing her nose.

Mark snorted in disgust. “Mush.”

“Yeah.” Matt grinned and kissed Bekah’s nose too.

Bekah giggled and scratched her nose against Reed’s chest.

“Here it is,” Luke said. “A church register. Kitty said it’s got important stuff. It even says Gilbride, right there. See.”

Reed couldn’t catch his breath. There it was staring right at him. Had Chastity had it all along?

“Where did you get this?”

“It was hidden, but I found it.”

“Does Chastity know you found it?”

He nodded. “She took it away, but I can read good.”

Reed ruffled his hair.

“Then Kitty wrote a letter and we went to town and—”

“Thanks, Luke. Go do your chores, now, all of you, so I can get dressed. And send Chastity up, will you?”

They left subdued. Hell, he had splashed disenchantment over them like hot wax, and they got burned, but not any worse than he did.

He dressed quickly. He would not be caught naked, not for this. He needed his wits, aye, and his armor about him too. He was angry. Damned angry. Mad. Furious.

And hurt. Achingly, painfully, hurt.

“Ah, there she is,” he said as Chastity walked into the room. “The savior of all children.”

She stopped, her brows furrowing.

“She who stands all-knowing, she who decides fates—the children’s, mine. Who else’s life have you destroyed, Chastity? Mr. Sennett’s? Mother Superior’s? William’s?”

Chastity paled but straightened her spine. Then she saw the parish register on the bed. “You found it,” she said. “I’m so happy for you.” She hesitated, aware how this must look. “I ... wanted to surprise you.”

“When were you going to give me this so-called surprise? You did not know I was returning.”

“I thought to surprise you this morning.”

“Did you? But you would do anything to keep this place for your children’s home. You said so, yourself.” Reed ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, feeling at a worse disadvantage now, which only added to his frustration. “I did worry a bit at first that you would withhold whatever evidence you found, but before long, I—you’ll laugh at this—I trusted you. Right now, I’m just plain disappointed in you. Mortally disappointed.”

Chastity stepped close, made to put her hands on his chest, but Reed stepped from her touch.

Tears filled her eyes, but she kept her chin up. “Whatever you believe, when I found that register, I was happy for you. Had you been here, I would have run to you with the news, I—”

“Forget the theatricals, Mrs. Somers. I have already seen Sennett to withdraw my claim. Sunnyledge is yours. I wish you joy of it. Knowing the solicitor’s fondness for you, the paperwork is likely done.”

“You’re willing to give up your heritage for the children?” Chastity asked, not certain she understood.

“For you, make no mistake. I did it for you. Noble of me was it not? And stupid, but it’s yours, as I said.”

“I do not want it.”

“What did you say?”

“Sunnyledge is yours, my lord.”

“My Lord?”

“You’re the Earl of Barrington.” Chastity curtseyed. “You said, yourself, you were noble.”

“God’s teeth, woman,
you
are the owner of Sunnyledge.”

Chastity shook her head in denial. “I hope you will be happy here, alone with your dead ancestors.”

“Oh, and whose heritage do you plan to steal to get a new place?”

“Mr. Sennett will give Sunnyledge to you,” she said.

“Mr. Sennett believes you own Sunnyledge. I just left him a few days ago.”

“Soon enough, he will know that I no longer want it.”

“What the devil do you want?”

You, she thought. “To open a children’s home, as ever, but not here.” Her head came up. “You did not tell Mr. Sennett I took the children? Oh, Reed, if you did—”

“You ungrateful wretch. What kind of cad do you take me for?”

Chastity wanted to weep. She wanted to crawl into a corner and disappear. He thought her a wretch who would make love with a man while stealing his identity. As mortally disappointed as he, she regarded him. “I take you for the kind of cad,” she whispered, “who seduces a woman when he knows what he’s doing, and she does not.”

Chastity turned from the guilt in Reed’s eyes to go to her room, closing the door between. She muffled her sobs in her pillow, almost wishing her pain were as mortal a wound as it felt. She cried so long, she lost track of time, and thought perhaps she slept.

She heard footsteps on the stairs. Running. Not the children’s. Reed burst into her room, knelt beside her and took her into his arms. “I’m sorry, so damned sorry.”

“It’s too late,” she said.

He shook his head. “They must have heard us. They must have followed you upstairs, and we were so angry.”

“If the children heard us arguing, they must be upset,” Chastity said. “Afraid of being homeless, again.”