Once a Rake (Drake's Rakes) (41 page)

He offered a small smile. “I am, at heart, a tidy soul.”

She drew a breath. “You helped George bring Boswell home, didn’t you?”

“Oh, lass,” he said. “I’d do far more than that for you.”

Suddenly he was on his knee.

She jumped up as if he’d hit her. “Stop that!”

She backed away. He regained his feet, blushing, of all things. “Will ye listen to me, lass? I’ve practiced this speech a thousand times all the way down from London.”

“No,” she said, truly frightened. Would he offer again? Would she have the strength to say no? “I don’t think I will. I thank you, Colonel, for everything you have done. I cannot possibly repay the boon you have granted my family.”

He stepped closer. “But you can.”

She stepped away again.

Suddenly Ian was laughing. “Lass, stop. Ye’re beginnin’ to look like y’r practicing the waltz.”

She pointed at his feet. “Well, stay where you are.”

He held out his hands, but he didn’t move. “Could we at least sit again?”

“As long as you don’t go anywhere near your knees.”

His grin broadened as he followed her back to the settees. “I am exonerated,” he said baldly, the minute he sat.

Sarah felt the blood drain from her head. “Oh.”

How odd. She felt she was going to faint.

“Sarah?”

She looked up to see him frowning down at her. Tears burned her throat. “Oh, Ian, I am so very glad. Have you been to see Fiona and Mairead?”

He was frowning again. “Alex and Chuffy are going I…um, I cannot go just yet.”

She matched his frown. “Why?”

Before she could react, Ian was sitting next to her, her hand in his. “Lass, tell me now. Do you truly love me?”

She stopped breathing. “What?”

Was he perspiring? “Do you love me? You said so, but you were under considerable stress. I need to know.”

It was too much. She had dreamed this so many times, deep in the night when impossibilities seemed probable. She had spent so much of herself to sacrifice it. Before he could stop her, she lurched off the coach again and fled across the room. He stood and faced her.

“Don’t do this to me,” she begged, hands fisted.

She couldn’t take her gaze from his face. There were new scars, at his lip and his eyebrow, still a bit raw after all this time. His nose had changed shape again, oddly enough, straightening. She hadn’t thought she could love it more.

“I must,” Ian said, stepping up to reclaim her hands. “If you answer me this question, lass, I’ll tell you why I came. Why your brother and I dressed up all in our Sunday best to greet ye.”

She laughed, the sound sore. “Of course I love you, you great lummox. Do you think I give myself to any ox I happen to run across in a hayloft?”

His smile appeared, his eyes glowing like the sky, and the dimple peeking out in his cheek. “Nay,” he said. “I don’t. Which is why I’ve screwed up my courage and come here today. To beg you to become my wife. To be my wife, my lover, my helpmeet. To soothe my temper when I have to deal with idiots and cheer me on when the cause is just. I need your sense and your humor. Oh, please, lass. Come awa’ with me.”

She knew she was gaping at him. “How dare you?” she demanded, the tears filling her eyes. “How
dare
you do this to me?”

He stepped back, muttering. Dragging both hands through his hair, he laughed. “Oh, lass, you make me crazed. I have this all backwards. Will you sit again if I promise to stay off my knees? They’re getting’ fair chapped anyway.”

She couldn’t think. She was so tempted to walk out the door before he tempted her beyond endurance. But she sat, just as he asked, clasping her hands in her lap where they would be safe.

Ian nodded and began to pace. “I forgot to tell you a few things. Important things. First, it seems I’m no longer engaged.”

The only thing preventing her from launching back to her feet was the sudden hold Ian had on her hand. “What?”

Claiming the seat next to her, he flashed her a rueful smile. “Being dead actually worked to my benefit, if you can believe it. The marquess was so disgusted with me that he personally went to Ardeth’s father and let him break the contract.”

“But what about Ardeth? I thought she was going to change the world with you?”

He ducked his head. “After I explained about…well, you and me, she let me go. Ardeth may be committed to change, but not if it means she must spend her life with a man who loves someone else.”

It was Sarah’s turn to rub at her face as if it could rearrange the thoughts whirling madly in her brain. “But Ian,” she cried. “Nothing else has changed. I am no different.”

He claimed the other hand as well. She let him. “Ah,” he said, “but you see, you’re wrong. Everything has changed. As of today, you are the acknowledged sister of a very powerful duke. You are officially welcome at the ducal seat like the family you are. That little skint of a brother of yours will even legally give you the Ripton name if you so wish. Sarah,” he said, pulling her close. “You are no longer nameless.”

Tears, again. Hot, thick, clogging her throat and wetting her cheek. “You did this for me.”

He laughed. “Don’t be daft, girl. I did it for me. Do you know what I’ve been doin’ the last three weeks? Minglin’ with Sassenach toffs. And I tell ye, I refuse to do it again unless ye’re at my side. So even if ya stay away from me thinking it will help, I still willna accomplish anything. I need my own lass with me to give me courage.”

Gently he tipped her head back. “Please. Say yes. We’ll bring the women with us if you want. We’ll bring Willoughby the pig, and lovely Elinor and their babies, and Mary and Martha, and oh, I have a new Rachel out in the carriage. She’s a grand, pretty little bird, all spruced up and waitin’ to meet your rooster. We’ll set our house up any way you want. Just tell me you’ll have me, lass. Please.”

She could barely speak through the fresh tears. “You bought me a chicken?”

He laughed. “I swear, lass, I canna think of another woman who could say those words and make it sound as if I’d dropped diamonds on your head.” Suddenly his smile died, and Sarah thought he looked as if he clung to his last hope. “Sarah. Please.”

After everything, it really wasn’t that difficult to give him her answer. Her hands clasped in his, she looked up into those honest, loving blue eyes, and she smiled. “Only if I can be there when you break the news to your grandfather. I wouldn’t miss his reaction for anything.”

Ian’s shout was so loud that the rest of the household poured back in the door. Before Sarah could demur, Ian called for champagne. Peg brought dandelion wine, which was all they had, and everyone celebrated, even Ronald, which didn’t surprise Sarah as much as she thought it would. After all, she was saving him a very unpleasant boat ride. And then the party began all over again when Lady Clarke and Rosie returned from their jaunts and Ian formally asked permission from both the dowager and the duke for Sarah’s hand in marriage.

It was only later in the early hours of the morning when Ian had snuck back into Sarah’s bedchamber for a bit of private celebrating that he admitted the rest of the truth.

“Um, there is one other pesky little detail to address,” he whispered, dropping kisses along her collarbone.

Sarah sighed, her toes curling with the most delightful afterglow. “It will wait  ’til tomorrow.”

“Nay. I’m afraid not. There will be too much happenin’ tomorrow. Extra hands on the estate to meet, more victuals to sustain us all, a vicar, and a special license.”

She rose on her elbow. She tried to level a glare on him, but she was too distracted by how endearing he looked with his hair tousled from lovemaking. “You
have
been busy.”

He gave her a bashful look. “The fact is that no matter where we decide to live, we can’t leave quite yet. I’m still in hiding.” He began to play with her hair. “If you want the bald truth of it, lass, no one knows yet that I’ve been exonerated.”

“Why?”

He slid his finger down her cheek. “Ah well, it seems there was a witness to my…tête-à-tête with Madame Ferrar. An older gentleman who looked like one of the most stiff-nosed Sassenachs I’ve ever met. You didn’t see him, did you?”

She shook her head.

He nodded. “I thought not. The problem is, I never got a good look at him, and Drake is worried that he’ll come after me before we can identify him. So I am officially still missing in action. Until I am told different, I’m to dye my hair, start growing my beard again, and remain right here on your farm.”

She blinked, still trying to focus on something besides the heat of Ian’s body. “Why do they think they can protect you better here?”

“Because your neighbors will spot a stranger faster than anyone will in London. Because Old George has a band of men who will be happy to help.” Suddenly he couldn’t look at her. “Because someone intercepted the line of carriages carrying Minette Ferrar to prison and managed to get her loose, and…well, Drake and Thirsk prefer to know where we are until they catch her.”

Sarah sat up so fast she almost cracked his chin. “What?!”

His smile was weak. “They don’t believe she’ll try to come back here. After all, she’s been seen here. She’d be recognized. They’re just being cautious.”

For a moment, she couldn’t think of a thing to say. When he reached up to pull her back into his arms, though, she went, nestling against his shoulder, where she was safe.

“Surely someone will tell your sisters, though, and your grandfather.”

He tweaked her nose. “That’s what I love about you, lass. Always with an eye to somebody else. Aye, Alex Knight and Chuffy Wilde are on their way north.”

She nodded, more interested in how it felt to draw her fingers down his rippling abdomen. “Well,” she said. “It
would
give us more time to decide what to do here. I know Rosie and the dowager would prefer to stay. It is where their work is. But Artemesia needs a season.”

“We have money for it all. You’ve no more worries, lass.”

She nodded. She could see the sheet begin to rise, and it made her smile.

“Then you won’t mind if it’s a while before you move to your new home?” he asked.

That got her head back up. “New home? I don’t need a new home.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because I’m already there.”

He looked confused. She gently rubbed away the worry line between his eyes.

“I dinna understand,” he said, his hand on her back.

She smiled. For the first time since she could remember, she could feel joy without hesitation, without a weight to dim it. Without boundaries. “It is something I realized while we were on the road,” she told him, dropping her fingers to his lips. “I have spent my entire life looking for a home. Not a roof over my head, or regular meals or people. A home of my heart.”

His eyes softened, and he smiled. “You have?”

She nodded. “And to my amazement, I finally found it.” Her smile grew. She knew that her heart was in her eyes, and it should have lit the room. When she laid her hand against Ian’s chest, she swore she could see her heart reflected in his gaze. “
You
are my home, Ian Ferguson. And no matter where else we go, I will need no other.”

Tears welled in her berserker’s eyes. “Amazing,” he whispered, leaning down to drop a lingering kiss on her lips. “I was just about to say that very thing.”

And he spent the rest of the night proving it to her.

Epilogue

Alex Knight hoped that this was the last time he had to step inside Hawesworth Castle. Next time, they would have to get some clerk to deliver the marquess’s news.

“Odd,” Chuffy said next to him. “Grim kinda place, ain’t it? Wouldn’t think so. All marble and statues. Should look like a church.”

Alex looked over his shoulder at his friend, who was concentrating on the priceless pale blue porcelain vase he held in his hands. They were back in that grim ice blue and white salon where he had delivered bad news only a few weeks ago. At least, he thought, this time he would be able to make Miss Ferguson smile again.

He realized he’d been thinking of that smile a lot. He’d been thinking how close he’d come to being the one who kept Ian from ever returning home. Chuffy had never spoken to him of that night. Alex had spoken to Drake, but he hadn’t been able to tell the whole story. He would never be able to tell the whole story, and it ate at him.

“Don’t much like the name either,” Chuffy suddenly mused, tipping the vase upside down over his head so he could see inside. “No castle here. Not even a turret. Names should fit the place, ya know? The Ice House. Frigid Friary. Grimstone.”

Alex paced. “I hope you don’t plan on sharing your ideas with the marquess.”

Setting down the porcelain, Chuffy shrugged. “Friend of the pater’s. About as much sense of humor. Don’t appreciate me.”

Alex smiled. Pulling out his pocket watch, he checked the time. If the marquess didn’t appear soon, they would have to leave and come back in the morning. He certainly didn’t want to spend another night in this wasteland, though.

“I wonder where Miss Ferguson is,” he mused. “It’s been almost forty minutes.”

Shoving his glasses up his nose, Chuffy shook his head. “Can’t picture Ferguson here. Too rigid. Too bland. Too . . .”