Proper Scoundrel (14 page)

She saw him wince when a tiny fist caught a handful of his chest-hair, but when he lifted the tiny fist away, he kissed it.

Jade fell deeper.

She smiled at his outrage when she’d maligned Mac’s manhood, however unintentionally. He never had named those parts, drat him, but if his dressing gown came any farther apart as he paced, she might get a view to ponder.

“I have an idea,” he said, turning toward her, and catching the direction of her gaze. “Damn it, wouldn’t you know we’d have a baby with us when you’re that interested.”

Jade felt warm. Very warm. She didn’t say a word. She couldn’t.

Marcus sat on the edge of the bed. “You are interested, aren’t you? That is lust in your eyes?”

“It’s curiosity. You didn’t name his parts.”

“You want me to name mine?”

“No. ... What’s your idea?”

“Lay back.”

“I said no.”

“What do you take me for? This is an innocent baby, though after tonight, he’s probably going to worry his whole life about the size of his ... Do lie down, will you?”

To Jade’s surprise, Marcus put the crying baby, face-down on her stomach, his little head nestled between her breasts. She put her arms around the little ball Mac made of himself and he quieted instantly.

Marcus covered them both up to Mac’s tiny ears. “This is only his first night away from Eloisa, and from his twin, as well. I thought he might miss that place he’s been for all these months, with Eloisa’s heartbeat so close.”

Jade relaxed. It felt good having Mac near her heart, but he made her yearn to carry a child of her own. She regarded Marcus watching over them, and thought, “his child,” but she pushed the daft notion ruthlessly away. “Now you can lie down too,” she told him.

He shook his head and pulled the rocker over. “I’ll just sit and keep watch to make sure he doesn’t slip off, or you don’t roll over.”

When Marcus sat, he spent a minute fighting with his dressing gown to keep all his man parts covered. After he succeeded, he caught her watching him and grinned. “All you have to do is ask.”

By mid-morning the following day, Eloisa’s fever broke and by noon she felt well enough to have the babies back in her room. Beecher, pleased with her progress, gave everyone the news.

Marcus thought his brother and Abigail looked as if they’d had a difficult night with little Garth. It seemed Jade, who hadn’t let go of baby Mac the entire three hours they slept, was the only adult who rested.

Sitting in her study waiting for her, Marcus grinned, remembering the big wet spot on her dressing gown as she made her way upstairs to wash and dress.

It had been his original intention to feed her the railroad information the first thing this morning, but frankly, the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to ruin the rest of her day. He decided he’d take her for a walk while everyone else went to tea and tell her then.

He heard her step outside the door as he studied her ledgers. “Good afternoon,” he said, appreciating her in a robe dress, green and bright as a sunlit sea. “You look splendid, as if you’re dressed for a special occasion.”

“Today is special. You said you wanted to introduce Garrett and show the babies off at tea.”

“I do. And now we can show you off too.”

Jade came around behind him to regard his figures. “I think having babies in the house is making me feel feminine,” she said.

He rose from his chair and knuckled the bow at her bodice. “Maybe that’s what comes of having a babe against your breast.”

She coloured and stepped back. “Abby said Garrett was amazing with little Garth last night.”

Marcus respected her change of subject. “Garrett was?”

“According to Abby. Does he have experience?”

Marcus shook his head. “Beyond the occasional emergency delivery, and holding namesakes, no, not that I know of. How was Garr amazing?”

“She said he took complete charge but asked her to stay in case he needed legs. When I first went in, after Beecher gave us the news, I ... ah ... found him and Abby in bed together. They were facing each other talking, the baby sound asleep between them. Garrett said he got piddled on twice last night.”

Marcus barked a laugh. “He squirted Garr? Lord, I love that boy.”

How alike Garrett and Marcus were, except that Garrett lacked the half-smile-eye-twinkle thing that made Marcus such a charmer, making Garrett appear stern and serious in comparison. Garrett’s lips weren’t as perfectly sculpted, either.

Jade had fallen asleep last night tracing Marcus’s lips with her gaze, wishing he’d been close enough for her to meet them with her lips.

“Aren’t you pleased?” Marcus asked.

Jade realized she’d not been attending. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“This,” Marcus said, tapping the paper in his hand and frowning in puzzlement. “The receipt from the South Downs Railroad for the land option.” He held it out to her.

“Oh thank God. Now I’ll know how much I can’t find.”

“Honestly, Jade, that’s a frightening statement. Do you know how much money you should have, in addition to the land option amount?”

“Neil Kirby stole my money and my records. I kept trying to warn my grandmother, but I think she was just too sick to understand. By the time I inherited the estate and discharged him, my finances were a confused jumble.”

“You know, you could apply to your banker in London for the transactions that have taken place against your account for however far back you’d like.”

“I didn’t know that. I’d really like to see those transactions, especially for the year before my grandmother hired Kirby. But how do I go about asking for them? What do I say?”

“Give me the name and address of your banker and I’ll draft the letter. Then you can copy it in your own hand and sign it. We can dispatch a messenger this morning. Now that you know you received a thousand pounds for the option, you’ll want to see when, or if, it was deposited.”

“I love it when you talk business,” she said.

Marcus stilled, alert, ready. “Jade Smithfield, are you flirting with me? Because I’m trying to be a good employee here.”

“I’m sorry. Where did you say you found the paper from the railroad?”

“You were right. I didn’t look hard enough the other day.”

She pressed her lips to his, silk and fire, quick and wondrous, bringing instant and hard arousal. “That was a celebratory kiss,” she said. “Thank you for finding—”

Marcus’s body thrummed. Heat pulsed through him, settling heavy in his loins. “Did you suspend the business-only rules?”

“Only for a minute.”

“The minute’s not up.” He pulled her into his arms, closed his mouth over hers and settled her body against the steel of his.

Marcus stood beside Garrett’s chair outside the ballroom as they waited for Ivy’s puppet-show to finish, so he could bring Garrett in, while all the women and children were present, and introduce him to everyone at once.

The entire household rarely gathered in the same place at the same time, except during a puppet show. To draw the children, Garrett held a baby in the crook of each arm.

“You’d think Ivy would be done by now,” Marcus said, less than patient.

Garrett chuckled. “Lick your paw, grumble-bear, and get it over with. Abby told me that she walked in on you and Jade and what she found.”

“One kiss. One kiss in two days and we get interrupted.”

Ivy gave the signal and Marcus pushed Garrett in.

The room hushed, much as it had done the first time Marcus entered. Some of the women had seen Garrett arrive, but several had not, and the children didn’t know him at all. The striking absence of fear marked the difference from his own first day, Marcus noted. He’d like to think his attempt to ease their fears had something to do with it.

Jade introduced Garrett and the babies.

Marcus pushed Garrett’s chair into the centre of everyone and the babies drew them toward Garrett.

Marcus grabbed Jade’s hand. “We’re going for a walk,” he told Abby. “Garrett’s yours.”

“Mucks?”

Marcus stopped. “Emmy-bug.”

Jade chuckled at his chagrin. Then Emily raised her arms and he picked her up, his look turning to love as he hugged her. “I missed you Emmy-bug.”

She put her arms around his neck and lay her head on his shoulder and they both sighed in contentment.

Jade’s throat tightened and she lost another piece of her heart.

He loved Emmy. He loved Mac. He certainly kissed and touched her as if ... Foolish woman. What is the matter with you?

Besotted, that’s what. Addled. Still reeling from the kiss that Abigail interrupted. She should be thanking her maker, Jade knew. Honestly, she might have lain right down on the carpet with Marcus, otherwise. He turned her inside out with needs and yearnings for things like babies, him as their father, Garrett as their uncle. A real life. A family.

She knew better. She did.

Her future consisted of promises to keep and people and secrets to protect. The downtrodden women she helped were her family. Their babies were the only babies she would ever hold to her breast.

God help her, when had she lost the ability to be satisfied with that?

Two hours later, with Emmy down for her nap, Jade followed Marcus, a hand firmly in his. He carried a basket in one hand, and a blanket under his arm.

“What are you hurrying to?” Jade asked, practically running beside him.

“Peace, quiet, and a minute alone—no business, babies, toddlers, brothers, ladies, or retainers to separate us.”

Jade laughed, allowing herself to feel light-hearted and carefree for the moment.

At the undercliff—the sea grass beneath the cliff that edged the part of her property arrowing toward the English Channel— Marcus dropped the basket and blanket and took her in his arms.

“A perfect beginning to a picnic,” she said.

“First, we have the rest of a minute to make up for,” he said, kissing her for longer than half a minute, but she didn’t mind.

He stepped back with a grin. “Better. I feel better. You?”

“I do, actually,” she said as she opened the blanket to spread it on the coarse grass. “Much better. And hungry.”

The breeze light, the smell of the sea, fresh and invigorating, Marcus stood transfixed. “I can’t decide what I want more, you or food.”

Jade waved a chicken leg under his nose, perversely hoping not to tempt him. “Nobody makes picnic chicken like Winkin.” Marcus caught her off guard when he grasped her arm to pull her down and roll her beneath him. He licked her chicken-flavoured fingers.

Her eyes widened.

His body swelled and hardened against her leg.

He threw the chicken back in the basket, then he tasted her mouth and she tasted his. Better than food. Or air. Or water.

The meal forgotten, they remained as close as two people could and feasted on each other. The best picnic in her memory.

“Last night, I sat in that chair on fire for you the whole time I watched you sleep,” he said, his breath in her ear warming her to the farthest reaches of her body.

“Before that, when you walked Mac,” she admitted, testing the texture of his ear with her lips. “I wanted to pull you down beside me on the bed.”

“You wanted to open my dressing gown.”

She slid her hands along his neck, to his nape, her fingers combing his hair. “Of course not! I wanted it to fall open.” She swallowed his chuckle with her kiss. “I would never have the courage to open it.”

“What about now?” He placed her hand against the buttons on his trousers, but her fingers fluttered up to his waistcoat, instead.