An Unmistakable Rogue (7 page)

Poor child. As oldest, and self-appointed protector, he was afraid to trust even her. Chastity supposed his caution should not hurt; he had ample reason not to trust. “Kitty’s nice,” he said. “She would make a fine mum, but Reed gets awful mad sometimes.”

“I like him. He likes Leonardo Avichi, like me.”

“Leonardo Avichi.” Mark’s echo belittled Luke.

“Kitty is soft and smells good,” Luke added. “But when Reed’s nice, I get to smiling inside.”

“Yeah.” Matt revealed surprise. “Me too.”

“They’re already like Mum and Da, sort of,” Luke said.

“Maybe if they get mushy like Mum and Da used to,” Matt said, stopping Chastity’s heart, “they would want to keep us.”

“You’re all a bunch of stupid babies,” Mark returned in tones of hushed anger. “Nobody wants us, but us. Another thing, if they get mushy, they’ll get babies of their own, then they’ll like theirs better and won’t want
us
anymore.”

Chastity wanted to reassure them, but she dare not. She would simply have to show them how much she loved them. Besides, the notion of Reed and her, and babies, was too absurd to contemplate, except that it shivered her from her warm cheeks to her curling toes.

“Since Kitty already wants us, we need to get her and Reed mushy like parents,” Matt said, “so he’ll want us too. You don’t have to help, Mark, but you can’t tell, or you gotta do a deed.”

“What deed?” Mark’s wary question made Chastity hope he might someday find his childhood, if he ever lost his anger.

“Somethin’ bad,” Matt said. “I Know. Raise your hand and repeat after me, “I promise on the dead body of gramma’s cat, Patsie—”

“Why not on gramma’s dead body?”

“You don’t swear on your gram’s dead body, stupid, it’s dispecful,” Luke scolded. “Now pay tension.”

“I promise on dead old Patsie,” Matt continued. “Never to reveal this pact, or I have to—”

“Eat mouse’s tails and hedgehog toes,” Luke said.

“Yuck!”

“Swear Mark. You too, Luke.”

“I swear.”

“I swear. You swear, too.”

Matt repeated the oath he had composed.

Chastity did not know whether she should be sad, angry, or crawl beneath the sheet to hug them. Daily, she learned what a huge responsibility were children, and she prayed she was up to it.

“So, what do we do now?” Luke asked.

“All right. Here’s the plan....” Their voices lowered, until Chastity heard nothing but the beat of her own heart, while she resisted an urge to tiptoe nearer.

‘Twas likely best that she not know anyway.

* * *

Sunnyledge was a sad house, the Vindicator always thought. Children might have changed that. Except the ones here, now, were the wrong children.

She would have to fix that.

The woman—Kitty they called her—had taken this small room above the scullery as her workroom, which was perfect. Now everything could be heard from right here in the dumbwaiter.

The Vindicator loved this small closed space. As children, she and Edward had eavesdropped on everyone from here, even Edward’s father and his housekeeper ... and learned some surprising new lessons. Intimate lessons.

She and Edward had been inseparable for a time. But after he went to Eton, Edward was only happy when he came home on holiday, and they could be together.

Yes, Sunnyledge had always been a sad place, but soon, after Edward’s sons destroyed each other over the Barrington title and estate, joy would once again fill this house.

* * *

Matt stood on an attic trunk looking out a small round window when he saw someone cresting the rise. “Kitty, someone is coming.”

Chastity came and raised her apron to wipe the grime from the pane.  

“Who is it?” Luke asked, as he and Mark scrambled to join them.

“A stranger is coming up the hill.” Chastity lifted Rebekah to press her tiny nose to the glass beside her brothers.

Matt whooped. “It’s Reed and he’s leading a cow, with Stealth trotting behind.” Matt jumped off the trunk and ran for the stairs.

“Are you sure it’s a cow?” Chastity asked, but no one answered; the room was empty. They had all followed Matt.

Chastity ached to follow with the same enthusiastic speed, but she wavered, her urge to hurry giving her pause. “Bother, it’s getting late anyway,” she said, ignoring her true motives as she followed the children, excitement beating in her breast.

CHAPTER SEVEN

By the time Chastity stepped outdoors, Reed had cleared the rise and the children were running toward him, but instead of throwing themselves into his arms, as their forward surge predicted, they stopped dead, as if waiting for a sign. Had Reed shown some welcome, they might have continued in the same joyful way, Chastity thought with regret, but he must be addressing them with some interest, because their stances relaxed as they turned to walk beside him.

Then Rebekah came running back, clearly upset, and Chastity bent to receive her. She pressed her face into Chastity’s neck, her little body all atremble.

Chastity lifted her and returned the pressure of her grip, a burden she welcomed but worried over.

Reed and the boys were still laughing by the time they reached her.

“I would like to know what you think is so funny,” Chastity asked. “What did you do to frighten your sister like this? And you Reed? A grown man frightening a little girl?”

Four idiotic males laughed harder, the dimple in Reed’s chin deepening with his mirth. “I brought my lady a cow,” said he with a bow like a courtier.

His play warmed Chastity, and while she wished she could bottle the twinkle in his topaz eyes, she was angry with him for laughing at Bekah. “What frightened Bekah?”

“The cow will produce milk for the children,” he said evasively.

“Of course. Thank you.” Ignore the twinkle, she told herself. Look away from the dimples. “Why was Bekah crying?”

“Reed said the cow was for her and she got that scaredy-girl look and ran.” Luke gave an imitation of Reed’s superior-male grin. “She’s just a silly girl.”

Renewed male laughter made Bekah whimper. Chastity stroked Bekah’s nape to shush her. “Bekah doesn’t know what to do with that big ugly cow, do you, baby?” She kissed the girl’s furrowed brow. “It’s all right. You can stay as far away from the beast as you want.”

Still tucked into Chastity’s neck, Rebekah slid a one-eyed peek at the bovine in question.

Reed patted it. “A hearty Devon cow is old Buttercup.”

“I want to call it Leonardo.”

“Stupid Luke. That’s a boy’s name.”

“Stupid Mark. How do you know it’s not a boy?”

“It doesn’t got a pump handle.”

“Oh.”

Reed grinned at Chastity. “Leonardo will give us milk for drinking and sweet cream for making butter and cheese.”

“Am I supposed to know how to do that?”

“It’s quite simple.”

Avoiding Reed’s gaze, Chastity approached the cow and took Bekah’s hand to stroke the animal. Then she looked at Reed and raised her chin. “I never made butter and cheese.”

“I’ll show you. The butter churn and cheese press we found in the shed will work fine. The children will help.”

“I never milked a cow, either.”

“I didn’t expect that you had.” Reed took her arm. “Come along. It’s getting dark. Let’s have dinner—I’ll cook—then we’ll have an early night. Morning will come sooner than usual with Leonardo to milk.

Before dawn the next morning, Reed prodded five yawning individuals toward the night-dark barn, lantern in hand, ignoring his need to take a certain sleep-warm woman into his arms for a proper good-morning. To regain control of his body, he refused to consider what a proper good-morning might entail, but wouldn’t sweet Sister Chastity wake up fast if he made an attempt? He chuckled.

“What?” she asked, stopping to look up at him.

He allowed his free hand to slide to the small of her back. “You’re a scruffy pack of sluggards, but entertaining as all get out.”

“Guess I need a bell to wake me properly.”

Or a kiss, Reed thought, or more. All conditions were ripe for seduction, save one, or should he say four. Reed took a deep steadying breath and looked about. He hated to admit it, but walking into a barn of a cool, gray dawn, amid sweet hay and warm animals, was something of a comfort. For years he wanted to get away from farming, but today, for some reason, he anticipated the chore he once thought tedious. He looked forward to ... something, though he dare not ask what, or why, or who was responsible.

Reed patted the cow. “Chastity, you should know how to milk, even though it’ll be Matt’s chore, since he’s oldest.”

Pride became evident in the set of Matt’s shoulders, as he accepted a responsibility, Reed hoped, for once in his young life, was not too heavy a burden.

Reed demonstrated the chore by squirting steaming milk into a pail. When he was done, he looked from one to the other of the sluggards and nearly laughed at Chastity’s alarm. He rose and indicated the stool. “Chastity.”

Hiding her chagrin, she sat, reached for an udder, hesitated, and snatched her hands back.

Reed held his chuckle, but Matt did not.

She reached again and hesitated. “Stay calm, there, Leonardo,” she said with a soft, silken rasp that Reed wished she would use on him. He enjoyed watching her experience life anew at every turn; she must have lived a sheltered existence in that convent. Not for the first time, he wondered what odd quirk of fate had brought them together, and was it as bad a stroke of fortune as he first imagined?

Reed wasn’t certain of anything anymore.

Chastity looked to him for encouragement and he gave her a nod.

She took a breath, curled her fingers around an udder, screeched, and jerked her hand back. “They’re warm and spongy.” With a look of horror, she wiggled her fingers as if to shake away the feel.

Reed’s choked response dissolved in Luke’s giggling tumble to the ground.

Chastity regarded the scamp in disgust. “Luke Jessop you have an absurd notion of what is amusing, and I do not appreciate it one bit.” She examined each face in turn, and Reed masked his humor as none of them dared to smirk.

“Try again and do not think about how it feels. Think about poor Leonardo who is uncomfortable and will feel better after you milk her.”

That settled it for Chastity. Leave it to her to put a cow’s comfort first. “That’s right, like that,” Reed encouraged. “Hold tight now and firm your grip. Fine. Pinch the top, then squeeze.”

Nothing happened. Chastity raised her hands in resignation. “I tried; I can’t.”

“Try again. Squeeze harder.” Jeez, he was reacting physically to her milking a blasted cow.

Chastity pinched the top, squeezed the udder, looked to see what was wrong, and a spray of milk hit her in the face. “Yeek!” Evading the shower, she toppled from the stool.

Smack on her bottom in the dirt, again, Chastity tried to wipe her face with her hands, while the boys fell over each other in helpless laughter—even Mark.

Before Reed realized it, a chuckle from somewhere deep inside him grew into a belly laugh. He tried more than once to suppress it, but his mirth got the best of him every time. Even as he raised Chastity’s apron to wipe her face, he laughed the harder.

The near-smile on Bekah’s face, as she watched her brothers, stayed his hand, but the girl was more in harmony with her protector than the rest, because she knelt and patted Chastity’s back.

“Thank you, baby,” Chastity said, kissing her cheek. Gathering her dignity like dented armor, Chastity rose from the dirt, ignored Reed’s hand, slapped the back of her dusty black dress, and righted the stool. Taking a deep breath, she reclaimed her seat. “I can do this.” She regarded her audience, pointedly daring them to dispute her. None would consider it. She had shown them time and again that she could do anything she set her mind to.

Reed knelt to help.

Warmth raced through Chastity as Reed hunched down behind her and took her hands in his. “I know you can do it, but let me help,” he said, his faith almost her undoing. His face beside hers became an unwanted distraction, yet she could not move away. He shaped his hands over hers and around the cow’s udders, and time seemed to stop.

Chastity forgot what she was doing, until Reed manipulated, with sure touch and a surer knowledge, her hands on the cow’s udders. By some miracle, milk began to fill the pail.

She thought Reed would let go once the milk started to flow, but he did not, and Chastity closed her eyes to savor the moment. The rhythm, almost harsh, went on, mesmerizing in its slow endless drone. Steam rose to warm their clasped hands. The earth smelled new, mixed with hay, animals, man.

Reed leaned closer, his arm abrading the side of her breast with each pull. Chastity bit her lip to stifle the moan rising in her throat. His hands, moist from warm steam, caressed hers. He turned his head, to regard her, and she saw every facet—in every shade of gold God created—in eyes that would make an artist weep to capture.

His breath stroked the side of her face; she shifted to feel it along her neck.

Had he noticed? Had he moved just a bit closer, himself?

Milk filling the pail became a soothing pulse, no longer harsh, but calming. Chastity’s heart trebled its cadence. She had never been more aware of herself as a woman, of her body, her heart, than right now. She turned a fraction to examine Reed’s face. Devil’s eyes. Bold brows. Rugged features, extraordinary, handsome, dark. The dimple in his chin drew her regard. She was glad her hands were occupied, or she might dip a finger in to see how deep it went.

Was he, too, affected by their proximity? Did she read ... awareness, admiration, in his eyes? Good Lord, could he read it in hers?

She looked away, focused on the milk bucket. Nearly full. When had that happened?

Matt and Luke gave each other a knowing grin, which brought Chastity up short. These young innocents were more knowledgeable in the ways of men and women than she. Of course, they had grown up with parents who loved each other, so they did have some of the experience she lacked.

Was this part of their matchmaking scheme?

Was she succumbing, even now, to the machinations of children? Or was Reed the true schemer? Lord, she was confused. Distance, she needed between them. Now. “Let me try,” she said, unable to disguise the quiver in her voice.

Reed seemed to have trouble looking away, moving away. But before she was ready, he stood.

Mourning the loss of contact, she continued milking on her own, her pride in the accomplishment growing, overcoming her earlier confusion. The boys cheered her success, earning her forgiveness for any and all matchmaking ploys.

Chastity looked to Reed, hoping for his praise, but he scowled, instead. “Let Matt try,” he said, any wonder over their experience, gone.

Matt took her place. Chastity chewed her lip, waiting for him to struggle, hoping he would not. He would be embarrassed if he did. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

Squirt, squirt, squirt.
The rhythmic sound began and continued uninterrupted, and shame filled Chastity. Matthew milked Leonardo as if he had been doing it his whole life.

“Matt can do it,” Luke said. “Kitty’s just a girl.”

Reed clapped Luke on the shoulder. “That’s right, Luke. There are some things men do better than women. Isn’t that so, Matt?”

Chastity straightened and raised her chin. “You men can do it, then.” She shuddered at the feel of those udders in her hands, and headed for the house, until Rebekah’s keening began. Chastity stopped, extended her hand, and waited for the girl to catch up, before they continued on, heads high.

“That’s right, Chastity,” Reed called after her. “You and Bekah can cook breakfast while we men finish the hard work.”

She squeezed Rebekah’s hand, smiling despite herself, at Reed’s taunt. “I suppose I should not be cross at him, no matter how maddening he is, should I, Sweetheart?” She was trying to make Bekah smile, with no results. “After all, he’s teaching me what I should know about running the house and taking care of you and your brothers. Hard to believe that because of Reed Gilbride, I will be able to give you a good home, as soon as Sunnyledge is mine. But let’s pretend we are angry for a while. It’s what those men deserve.” But when she saw how much the children enjoyed the milk, Chastity was so grateful, she couldn’t even pretend anger.

By the twinkle in Reed’s eyes, she guessed he sensed that she forgave him. “I also bought flour, salt, and corn meal in town,” he said.

Chastity stared at her work-sore hands. He had spoken with pride, as if he wanted to be applauded, except that all she could think of was the fact that her money was gone. “I cannot repay you, until I receive my next allowance.”

When she looked up, Reed shrugged. “No repayment necessary. I’m eating, too. If I teach you to provide for yourself and the children, I can live my life in peace knowing you’re able to care for them when you leave.”

“Of course.” Chastity ignored the pain his words caused, wondering why it existed at all. She wanted free of him, as much as he wanted to free of her and the children. “Now I have all the supplies I need to bake bread.”

He all but gaped. “You know how to bake bread?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“But you did not know how to do anything else.”

“I can do a great many things, Reed Gilbride. It’s just that most of them have nothing to do with cooking. The sisters baked bread every Saturday to distribute to the poor. I helped. It was the most fun ever, growing up.”

“Sounds like a delightful childhood.” Like mine, Reed thought, reminding himself not to allow an affinity with the provoking sister and her bandit brood to take root. “If you can bake bread, you can bake corn cakes. Tomorrow I would like corn cakes dripping with fresh sweet butter for breakfast.”

Reed went to the scullery to get the butter churn he had repaired and scrubbed. While they watched, he skimmed the heavy cream from the top of the milk, poured it into the churn and replaced the lid. “This is all you have to do.” He pumped the plunger a few times. “Who can do that?”

Luke jumped up and down. “Me, me.”

“How about Rebekah. Do you want to do it first?”

She whimpered and hid behind Chastity.

Reed’s frown relaxed. “All right. Luke, you do it. Good, now put some force into it. That’s right. When you get tired, give Mark a turn, and later maybe Matt will want to try. As the cream turns to butter, the mix gets thicker, and the handle gets harder to move. It takes time, so do take turns.”

Chastity followed Reed to the scullery while the children worked the churn, inspiring each other to speed. “Is that all there is, and we have butter?”