Captive Scoundrel (27 page)

She placed his hands below her breasts. For his sanity, he did not stroke or tease. But he sensed a need in her, and grazed the side of her neck, while he ached at the touch. “Tell me about the dreams you dreamed here.”

“I remember no other dream than now, here, with you.”

He settled her against him, his hand on her abdomen, and smiled as his child stirred in her womb. A simple moment. Perfect. “Sometimes, I think my life began when I woke to find you.”

She turned in his arms, her wonder infusing him with peace. “How came I to be so blessed?” he asked. “I don’t deserve you, I know, but heaven help anyone who tries to take you away.”

“Kiss me,” she whispered. “The way you did the night we made this baby.”

She’d barely finished than he was ravaging her mouth, drinking greedy drafts, too long denied. They stopped to fill their lungs. Faith touched his cheek. “Do you remember our wedding night?”

It took Justin a moment to assimilate the shift. “The ice?” He remembered it well, for she had just poured it over him again.

“Our conversation,” she said, voice husky, eyes luminous.

Ah, not a total shift after all. He did remember. “Every word.” His bottom lip coaxed her top one, feather-light, erotic. “You know,” he whispered. “I think we have achieved a fair measure of mutual…” He traced her lips with his tongue.

“Kiss me again.” Hearts pulsed. Words and time stopped.

Justin pulled away inhaling her scent, violets. He kissed her forehead. “I started to say…” He took another breath. “We’ve achieved a measure of respect and understand—”

“Justin, please, it’s been so long.”

“God yes.” He lay his wife in the grass and unfastened her gown. Since their marriage, he’d been holding his desire in check, waiting for her welcome, and this was it, unspoken, but unmistakable. And yet…“Faith, the babe—”

“Mama said it’s all right.”

He pulled back. “You asked your mother!”

“Not exactly, but she said it’s safe for several more weeks.”

“But she thinks you conceived after we married.”

Faith shook her head. “No. She doesn’t. Come. Love me.”

Justin hesitated, but he could no longer deny her, or himself, such perfect pleasure. Then, in a moment of insight, he realized that their single sexual encounter had not been merely pleasure, but an inevitable and cataclysmic communion of souls. And the knowledge rocked him. But when Faith opened her arms to him, he accepted the truth of it, the love, as his destiny.

He stroked and suckled her, bringing her to the edge of completion, over and over, until she begged him to fill her. And when he did, they rose swiftly together, until they reached heaven, then they floated above the earth like feathers in a summer breeze, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating apace.

And as languid as they, so became time and space.

The wind calmed. The sun moved lower in the sky. Peace. Until their child’s antics startled them to awareness.

Justin looked into Faith’s amazed face, wondering if her bemusement was from the baby’s frolic or their passion. Whatever caused it, he experienced an infinitely sweet moment of oneness with her, and he was awed. He placed a reverent kiss on the swell of their child. “I think he’s jealous.”

Faith’s laugh became a gilded treasure.

“I hereby decree that we shall return to this Eden every summer,” he said.

“Mmm.” Her eyes opened wide. “Ouch.”

Justin rose and hovered. “Are you hurt? Lord, we shouldn’t have. Are you laughing at me?” Relieved, absolved, he returned to her.

“Our son is practicing pugilism and I am his punching bag.”

He watched her stomach reshape itself with his child’s movement. “Is he too big? I mean, I’m worried.” He brought her hands to his lips. “When I think of his birth, I feel panic, akin to when I saw that carriage go over the cliff.” He buried his face in her hair. “I’d give my life to spare you harm.” He couldn’t voice his fear that he would lose her.

She smoothed his brow. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“You’re not afraid, then?”

“I was…because of what I didn’t know. But I spoke with Mama yesterday.”

“Which is when she told you we could—?”

“Yes. And what to expect. I feel better for knowing.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid? A fine husband I am, if you must face your fear alone.”

“I didn’t want to worry you, and you’ve been through this before.”

“No I haven’t. Beth’s birth did not resemble this in the least. This time, my child’s mother has such a grasp on me, I’m frightened senseless.” He kissed her. “Do something, will you, Darling, to keep me from worrying? Tell me what your mother told you. Everything. So I can be reassured also.”

“I will, tonight, but right now, I think we need to return.”

Justin finger-combed her hair, then he dipped his handkerchief in the brook to sponge Faith’s face and neck. When he buttoned her bodice, he lingered over the task.

“We look like street waifs,” he said. “Do you think anyone will guess what we’ve been doing?”

Faith gasped. “Surely not. Mama and Papa would never….”

Justin’s raised brow called forth her blush. “Yes, well, it’s difficult to imagine one’s parents.”

She stifled a giggle. “Yet I suppose with eight of us…What about your parents?”

“I think they did it once.”

“Twice. You forgot Vincent.”

“I didn’t, but I wish I could. Ready to go?”

“What if someone asks what happened? What will we say?”

“That Squire Kennedy chased us into the thickets?”

“Or that I climbed a tree and you came after me. Mama and Papa often scolded me for tree-climbing.”

“In your condition? Forget that story.”

“Justin, it’s the truth they’d never believe. I’m sure of it.”

He shook his head. “By the looks of you, the truth seems no more possible than tree climbing.”

Faith looked at herself and grinned. “I know. What a scoundrel you are, Justin Devereux, taking your pregnant wife in the grass like a rutting stallion.”

“Why, you brat, you begged me…A stallion did you say?”

Harris awoke beside a woman of dubious character, recalling the notice in the Gazette that felled him. Justin Devereux was dead. Even after weeks of cheap gin and cheaper women, a fresh wave of grief washed over him.

He looked about the hovel they occupied, and guided by slits of light through its ill-fitting slatted walls, he found his clothes and gathered his possessions. Outside, he shook his head to clear it and stumbled in the direction of the mews behind the Grosvenor Square house, his eyes wet for thinking of his master.

He stopped. His master? What about his mistress? She must be beside herself. Why had he not thought of her before?

“Should’ve gone straight back, fool. How could you let her down at a time like this, and her with a babe on the way?” At the stable, he cleaned himself up and saddled his horse. Shortly thereafter, he set off at a neck or nothing pace, praying his mistress would forgive him for deserting her.

Late the next day, he arrived at Killashandra.

“About time you’re back, old man,” Mrs. Tucker snapped. “Not that there’s need for you now.”

“Don’t be counting on keeping your position either. Who knows what will happen to Miss Faith and little Beth now?”

“They been gone for months and we’ve not been given the door.”

“What? Miss Faith left my master here to die alone? I’ll not believe it, not from what I saw the last time I was here.”

Tucker straightened. “What did you see?”

He’d already said too much. “Who nursed master Justin after Miss Faith went away?”

“Old fool. She took Beth and the master with her.”

“And you call me fool,” he grumbled. “Why’d you just sit there like a goose without telling me?”

“I’d’ve told you sooner, had you not taken your own good time returning,” she yelled to his retreating back.

By the end of July, Faith was so big, their walks were restricted to the garden and Justin was just as glad, for he was worried sick about the birth and wanted her near the house.

“I feel like a lumbering beast,” she said, leaning on his arm. Despite her discomfort, she’d regained her cheerful disposition, and their mutual affection had flourished. And though Justin was chafing to get this damnable business with Vincent settled, he wouldn’t leave her side.

“You don’t have to stay with me every minute, Justin,” she said. I’d think you had enough of being cooped up. You said you couldn’t wait till you were free to ride out, yet you turn down every invitation.”

He took her into his arms. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Faith raised her face for his kiss and he was more than happy to oblige.

“I don’t know where you learned to behave in that brazen way.” His mother-in-law’s words sluiced over Justin like the ice on his wedding night. He stepped back but he didn’t let Faith go.

“I vow, Faith, married nearly a year, expecting a child, and here you are carrying on outdoors in the middle of the day.”

“I’m hardly in a condition to frolic, Mama.”

With a grin, Justin hooked one arm around his mother-in-law’s shoulder, the other around Faith’s, and walked to the house.

During lunch, his father-in-law seemed preoccupied. “There’s a horse-fair in York early tomorrow,” he said, breaking the silence. “I could use your help, Justin, choosing a good mare. But I’d like to leave this afternoon, right after lunch.”

Now Justin understood. They all knew he wanted to stay with Faith. “Much as I’d like to help, John, I can’t leave Faith.”

“Go, Justin,” she said.

“But, the baby’s due any day. And we’d be away overnight.”

“Then I won’t have the baby until Thursday.”

His father-in-law hid his laugh behind a cough. “You could save me a lot of money, Son.”

He should go, if only to repay their kindness. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” he asked, sensing Faith didn’t want him to go. Sometimes he wished they were in his old room. Alone.

Faith touched his hand, soothing him. “Go. I’m not going to have this baby anytime soon.”

A short time later, with great apprehension, Justin kissed his wife good-bye. “Take care of her, Mother,” he said.

Faith watched Justin turn and wave twice, each time bringing a fresher, sharper pang of loneliness, until he faded from sight. “I love you,” she whispered, desolation enveloping her. Her need to run after him and beg him to stay made her want to cry. But she bit her lip. If she started, there’d be no stopping her.

Her mother’s arm came about her. “Come along, Sweet, and let Jenny help you with a sponge bath, then you can rest.”

Faith sighed. “I guess.” Why did she feel as if her heart had left with him? What was wrong with her, that a day apart should overcome her?

Faith woke later to someone calling her name and she nearly cried when it wasn’t Justin.

“Dear,” her mother said, “There’s a Mr. Harris here to see you. He’s in the parlour. Do you want to get up and talk to him?”

“Harris, finally,” Faith said, rising. “Yes, I’ll see him.”

“Are you hungry?” her mother asked. “Dinner was two hours ago.” Her mother brushed her hair and helped her into her wrapper. It was comfortable and Harris wouldn’t mind. He’d seen her in her nightrail, after all.

In the library, Harris paced, not sure what to say, not wanting to bring up painful memories. How could a supposedly healthy man just up and die after such a miraculous recovery?

When his Mistress came in, her hair about her shoulders, she looked forlorn and needing protection. Harris swallowed the lump in his throat, took her hands and sat silently beside her.