Anne Stuart (40 page)

“
What is it, my pet?” he replied as she flung herself at him, her flame-red hair hanging in its usual tangle down her back, her nine-year-old frame already tall and strong.

She looked like her mother. She had her father’s imperious temperament. God help them all.

“
Mother said to tell you she’s going mad. The twins have been fighting all day, the baby’s teething, and that wretched brat Colleen was playing with my very best doll. The one Lady Seldane sent me from London.” Letitia’s lilting voice was strong with indignation. “Why did you have to burden me with so many brothers and sisters?” she said accusingly.

“
To keep life from getting boring,” he said lightly, starting up the broad stairs. He could hear Emma’s voice, raised above the childish squabbles in fierce exasperation, and he found himself smiling. “We’ve a new colt.”

All Letitia’s pettish bad temper vanished. “Daylily had her foal? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“
I just did, love.”

Emma appeared at the top of the stairs, her hands on her ample hips, her hair coming out of its haphazard attempt at restraint. The apron that covered her pregnancy-filled belly was wet with soapy water; the baby on her hip was damp from his bath and screaming in a rage.

“
Why,” she said in a very dangerous voice, “did I ever marry you?”

“
Because you couldn’t resist my charm?” he suggested gravely.

“
Don’t smile at me,” she snapped back, shoving the wet, naked baby into his arms. “I should have married Nathaniel. In the past ten years Lady Barbara has had two quiet, perfectly behaved children and a life of order and calm. And what do I have?”

“
Utter madness,” Killoran said. “Where are the servants?”

“
Nanny’s got a toothache, Siobhan and Bridget have gone to mass, and Cook is in the kitchen where she belongs,” Emma said.

“
Well, my love, if there are too many children, whom do you suggest we dispense with?”

By that time baby Thomas, held in his father’s strong arms, had ceased his furious howling.

Colleen stood in the doorway to the room she shared with her older sister, her elfin face doubtful, and the twins, Mary and Ronan, appeared equally wary.

Emma glanced at them all, humor slowly filling her honey-brown eyes. “Well, therein lies the problem. I love the little beasts, even if they’re driving me mad. Shall we give them another chance?”

“
Perhaps that might be wise,” he agreed. “Unless you’d rather send them to the workhouse.”

“
Sluff,” Ronan said boldly with all the wisdom of his eight years. “The workhouse wouldn’t take us.”

“
Doubtless you’re right. We could sell you to the tinkers.”

“
You’d have to pay them,” Mary piped up.

“
Drown them?” Killoran suggested lazily.

“
You won’t even drown unwanted kittens,” Letitia scoffed. “You can’t fool me. Accept the fact. Da, that you’ve got the softest heart in all of Ireland.”

Killoran grinned. “There’s many who’d never believe it. If I can’t put the fear of God into you, then we’ll have to see if your mother can.”

“
It’s hopeless,” Emma said, tugging the twins close. “Your father’s too tenderhearted for the likes of you. Let me warn you, children, that there’s nothing more dangerous than a reformed blackguard. I imagine it’ll be a life of disaster for all of us.”

“
Is that what Da is? A reformed blackguard?” Ronan asked, clearly planning on becoming a blackguard himself.

Killoran smiled at her over the children’s heads, a sweet, private smile. His eyes dropped to the burgeoning proof of her latest pregnancy, and Emma’s response was a helpless laugh. “Not completely reformed,” he murmured.

“
They’re the worst kind,” Emma said.

“
Go on out to the barn, children, and ask Willie to show you the new foal while your mother has five minutes’ peace.” He placed the damp but now cheerful Thomas in Letitia’s capable hands.

“
Five minutes’ peace? Unheard of,” Emma said, but her frustration had already left her as the children clattered noisily down the stairs.

He looked at her in the sudden stillness of the upstairs hall. “Too many babies, my love?” he whispered.

She shook her head fiercely. “Not quite yet,” she said.

“
Too much Ireland? We haven’t left in ten years.”

“
No.”

“
Too much of your dark and dangerous husband?”

Her mouth curved in a wide, delectable grin. “Never,” she said.

“
Then let’s hope Willie manages to keep them busy for a good long time,” he said, pulling her toward the bedroom.

And her only answer was a shy, seductive smile.

The End