Devil in My Bed (20 page)

He laughed out loud, an open, free laugh she’d not heard in years. The sound of it was even enough to make her tear her eyes from his magnificent rear. He was grinning, his eyes flashing a shining blue.

Something careful and wary inside her melted. Aidan was happy.

Maybe . . . maybe they could be happy, together.

The wonder of that thought occupied her while he dressed and left to buttonhole a footman for their breakfast. It came in record time—causing her to suspect that this Wilberforce person had clairvoyant powers—and she hadn’t time for more than dressing quickly, tying her hair back with a bright blue ribbon, and hiding the evidence of last night’s tangled path of disrobing.

The food was delicious and the company divine. They did little more than exchange smiles over their eggs and toast, but the relaxed glow of his expression did more to warm her than did the tea.

She would accept. Aidan buttered his toast as he leaned back in his chair. She could not sit across from him in such sweet contentment if she were about to shoot him down.

It was time to speak to the bishop. He was wealthy enough to ensure a special license. It was only a matter of presenting the proper bribe—er, contribution.

There was also the matter of a house. Something small, perhaps. He rather enjoyed the cramped coziness of these rooms at Brown’s. He wouldn’t want such amiable warmth diluted down through dozens of rooms.

After a perfunctory knock, Colin entered with Melody dangling off one hand like a monkey. “I’ve a delivery for you.”

Aidan looked at the dark circles under Colin’s eyes. “You look like he—haggard.” He looked down at Melody, who was swooping like a kite on the end of a line. “She looks very well.”

“Oh, she’s in great form. I, on the other hand, suffered from n-i-g-h-t-m-a-r-e-s.” He looked down at the curly-haired bundle of energy and turned her loose to spin wildly about the room. “Hers.”

Madeleine came closer, worry on her face. “Bad dreams? Was she all right?”

Colin smiled wearily. “I think so. My own fault. Too many bloody flourishes, I fear.”

Aidan smirked. It was gratifying to see Colin of the many cousins be less than perfect with Melody. “You deserve it. Imagine telling such tales to a child.”

Colin narrowed his eyes. “You weren’t complaining yesterday when you wanted to know what happened to Captain Black Jack Harrowgate.”

Aidan blinked innocently. “ I am not going on three years old.”

Colin growled and went to go pick at the breakfast tray. “Someone ate my toast,” he explained with a grumble.

Melody was jumping on the sofa. Madeleine watched her with her head tilted to one side. “I was never allowed to do that. I never understood why.”

At that moment, Melody miscalculated and flipped over the arm of the sofa to land on the floor with a startling thud.

“Oh my goodness!” Madeleine ran to comfort her and to divert the wailing before it began in earnest.

Colin nodded, chewing. He pointed with his toast. “That’s why.”

Once Aidan realized Melody was fine, just suffering from surprise and bruised pride, he turned to Colin.

“I want a house.”

“I don’t have one.” Colin held up both hands in surrender, armed with a piece of toast in each. “Search my pockets if you like.”

“I must speak to my business agent in town today. He’ll know of a likely place. This club is no place for Melody. She hasn’t anywhere to play.”

Colin chewed thoughtfully. “You’ve reconsidered shipping them off to Blankenship?”

Aidan looked away. “Too far to visit during Parliament. Besides, Melody hasn’t seen anything of London yet.”

“She was born in London.”

Aidan ignored him. “At any rate, we’re moving as soon as possible. Perhaps even tomorrow.”

Colin looked sad. “Perhaps I will too. It certainly won’t be the same around here.”

Aidan met his friend’s—yes, he was truly a friend now—eyes. “You know you’ll be welcome anytime.

Melody wouldn’t want to pass a day without seeing her Uncle Colin.”

Colin was the first to look away. “Right. Sit there while you two moon at each other? Shoot me first.”

Aidan growled fondly. “Bounder.”

“Sap.”

All balance restored by the manly insults, Aidan took quick leave of them. He picked Melody up and kissed her soundly and noisily, making her giggle. His kiss for Madeleine was faster and much more discreet, but it left her cheeks pink nonetheless.

“I must attend to some business at the moment but . . .” He gazed intently into her eyes. “I do have a matter on which I’d like to speak with you later.”

He released her, but before he turned away, his gaze flickered over her shoulder to the desk just behind her. There was time for that bit of business later, when he had her answer.

On the way through the grand entrance hall, Wilber-force stopped him. “You’ve a message from Lady Blankenship, my lord.” He handed Aidan a crisply folded sheet, sealed with blue wax and pressed with an ornate “B.”

Aidan almost took a chill just opening it.

Aidan, I have arrived at Blankenship House in London. Attend me at once. Signed, Lady Blankenship.

A summons from Queen Elizabeth could not have been more commanding. He’d heard that the queen occasionally used the word “please.”

He took his hat and gloves back from Wilberforce and donned them. Even the hovering maternal chill couldn’t dampen his mood. He had happy matters to attend to. It would be best to deal with his mother first.

Yes, happy matters indeed.

Smiling as he left, he set his hat at a jaunty angle as he waved at Wilberforce in the entrance hall. Once on the street in front of Brown’s, he inhaled deeply of the rather nasty London air, relishing every breath. His mood so occupied him that he almost missed sight of a man ducking around the corner of a building.

That Critchley fellow again.

There wasn’t much doubt. Short, rotund men clad in poisonously colored waistcoats didn’t appear everywhere. Yet, as he increased his pace to come even with the corner, he couldn’t spot the fellow anywhere.

Well, if Critchley was looking for Madeleine, he wasn’t going to find her. Entry to Brown’s was definitely out of that creature’s social reach.

Furthermore, within days she would be Lady Blankenship, untouchable by anyone such as he.

Oh, bother. He probably ought to inform his mother that he was getting married. If he were like Madeleine, he would send a letter by the slowest, most ancient coach he could find, just for mischief’s sake.

Smiling to himself, he decided to do just that. Critchley and his vile fashion sense evaporated from Aidan’s mind completely as he contemplated his mother’s face when she realized she’d missed out on turning his wedding into a full-blown Society circus!

As mothers went, Lady Blankenship wasn’t so terrible. She didn’t shout and she didn’t strike. Then again, neither did she smile nor did she laugh. She simply chilled one into submission.

As Aidan made his way up the steps of his own house, he felt a curious reluctance to enter, almost as if he weren’t quite sure of his welcome.

The Breedloves had brought their own staff along, so the door was answered by an unfamiliar face who gazed at him without recognition. “Yes, sir, may I help you?”

“Blankenship to see Lady Blankenship.”

Aidan tried not to smile when the fellow nearly jumped out of his boots. “My lord! Please, come in—”

It went on for a while but Aidan didn’t bother to listen. He didn’t require fawning from anyone. The fellow left him for a moment to announce his presence.

How odd to be left standing in his own hall. Still, while the Breedloves stayed here, he wanted them to feel as though it was their house. Striding in to play Lord and Master wouldn’t help anyone.

While he waited, he could hear high children’s voices in the distance and then the patter of running feet upstairs. He noticed a small wheeled horse on a pull string half hidden beneath the hall table. Was it his imagination or did his house seem a brighter and warmer place for such changes?

Family cake, Colin had called it. Indeed.

A flash of pink caught his eye and he lifted his head to see a tiny girl, not much older than Melody, standing part way up the stair, gazing at him with one finger in her mouth. He smiled. “Hello, kitten. I’m Cousin Aidan.”

She didn’t speak or remove the finger, but she did come a few steps closer. Aidan watched her gaze go worriedly to the toy horse and then back to him. Ah, the little miss knew she wasn’t to be playing in the entrance hall. She’d probably had to make a run for it when he’d sounded the knocker.

Aidan shook his head and put his finger to his lips. Bending, he reached the horse from its hiding place and ran quickly up the stair. He put it carefully in her hands. “Mind you don’t leave it on the stair, pet,”

he whispered. “Someone might trip and fall.”

Then he dashed back down to the hall where he assumed a very lordly mein as the Breedloves’ butler scuttled back to fetch him to Lady Blankenship. “This way, my lord—er—”

Aidan only nodded and followed the man through his own house. As he passed, he saw a tousled little head peek through the banister and wide eyes watch him. He cast up a wink as he passed and was rewarded with a giggle.

Since when did you become good with children?

Perhaps since I became a father.

Well, it couldn’t be that easy or there wouldn’t be parents like—

“Aidan, darling, where have you been? I sent for you hours ago.” Enthroned in the best parlor like a queen in her hall, Lady Blankenship was perfectly and severely dressed for this time of day. Pale purple satin swathed her, a color she favored since it brought out the silver in her perfectly coifed hair. Never would she loll about the parlor in an old gown and a simple braid. She glanced up at him briefly. God, he hoped his own blue eyes were never so cold.

“Something must be done about the Breedloves’ staff. They’re simply impossible. Do you know that it took me at least ten minutes to get my breakfast this morning? Really.” She held out her hand to him.

He bowed over it. “Lovely to see you too, my lady.” He hadn’t called her Mother since he was ten and finally realized she had no interest in the job. “I’m sure the Breedloves like their staff just the way it is.”

She sniffed. “No doubt. Well, I shall suffer through the primitive conditions just long enough to launch Daphne—er, Delilah—and then it’s back to Blankenship for me. I can’t abide the Season.”

She adored the Season, actually. She’d never missed one, not even immediately after his father died.

Oh, she wore appropriate black—stylishly, of course—and she appeared appropriately wan and grieving—at every single event she could fit in—so no one could criticize her in the least.

“I simply don’t know why they had to bring all of the children. Did you know that your cousin is expecting again? People are beginning to talk.”

“People began to talk after the fourth one, my lady.” It occurred to him that Madeleine’s gowns were very tired indeed. Not that he minded, for she looked better in muslin than most women looked in satin, but he would enjoy making her eyes shine with a gift. Lady Blankenship had her gowns made exclusively by Lementeur, who was the very best. I wonder what a fellow like that could create for Madeleine? He could hardly wait to find out.

Belatedly, he picked up the tail of his conversation again. “I scarcely think number seven will make a stir.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do not be facetious, Aidan. They are not the ones who should be breeding.” She flipped her fan at him. “You are the one in the family who should be making heirs. When are you going to let me make a match for you?”

Mother, I’ve decided that you’re quite right. It is high time I wed. Will tomorrow do for you?

A snicker rose up from somewhere deep inside him—a place he hadn’t heard from in years. He covered it with a cough, then smiled genially at Lady Blankenship. “Oh, I shouldn’t think I’ll want to wait much longer.”

Obviously prepared for a disagreement, she stopped in mid admonishment and stared at him. “Are you serious, Aidan? Will you truly begin to search for a bride this year?”

Searched, found, proposed already—well, more or less. Oh my, this was going to be fun. “I think I’ll be looking among the many widows in London,” he said nonchalantly. “I don’t wish to waste time on some silly girl.”

Lady Blankenship examined this proposal and, finding no obvious traps or flaws, nodded in satisfaction.

Yet she pointed one long finger at him. “As long as she is well connected—and young enough to bear you sons.”

Aidan spread his hands. “But of course.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “It won’t be long before this house will be filled with children every single day. Children who will clamber into your lap with their sticky teacakes in hand and call you Grandmama!”

As he watched her cold blue eyes widen in startlement and her lips tighten in what could only be described as sheer terror, he couldn’t help the laugh that rolled out. Standing briskly, he snapped her a soldierly bow and then strode from the room. “A bientôt, Grandmama . . .”

Back at Brown’s, keeping a healthy, active child happy and occupied in a small suite wasn’t an easy task.

Especially when the entire matter was supposed to be a secret!

They tried. Colin told story after story, each gorier than the last. At this point, even Madeleine couldn’t fight her growing interest in the exciting tales.

When even his imagination began to fade, Madeleine invented a chasing game that involved a fox and a horse. Madeleine was the fox and Colin, of course, was the horse. Melody rode hunt after hunt, until Colin collapsed gasping on the floor next to the once-again vanquished fox, Madeleine. He made pleading eyes at Madeleine. “Help?”

Madeleine stood and briskly dusted her hands. “I think it’s time for bread and butter and milk.”

Melody had at least worked up an enthusiasm for her snack, but Aidan’s sideways proposal this morning had stolen Madeleine’s appetite. She stood by the window, gazing restlessly out at the back garden.

One could truly work magic in that neglected place, she thought absently. Oh, it was painfully tidy and there were a few ordinary flowers struggling for survival, but one could tell that no one loved it.