Seductive as Flame (40 page)

“You’ll be at the wedding, so you’ll know when.”

“Oh, good. Are we going hunting tomorrow? You promised.” A six-year-old’s attention span was limited, especially a six-year-old who’d been generously indulged in his whims.

“Yes,” Zelda said, understanding the required answer. “You’ll have to dress warm.”

“Creiggy packed me all warm stuff, didn’t she, Papa? She’s from here, you know. She knows what to pack.”

A half hour later, a six-year-old who insisted he wasn’t tired was fast asleep, the long journey north having taken its toll. Leaving Chris with a young maidservant who promised to call them if he woke during the night, Zelda took Alec down a flight to her bedroom. “We can’t stay long,” she said as Dalgliesh shut the door behind him. She was standing in the middle of the room, smiling at him. “Ask me now.”

“When did you know?” He slowly measured her with his gaze, his expression speculative. He pursed his lips. “Are you sure?”

Her eyes were bright in the candlelight, aglow with pleasure. “I knew two weeks ago. I thought you might notice. And I’m sure.”

“I should have noticed. I’m sorry.”

“You were working day and night. You’re forgiven.”

He hadn’t moved from the door. “Things can go wrong.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong.” He didn’t speak for so long she thought he might be averse to the news. “Would you rather I wasn’t having this child?” she asked, not sure she wouldn’t shatter in a thousand pieces if he said yes.

“God no. Don’t even think it.” He moved then, crossing the small distance between them in three long strides, taking her in his arms, holding her close. “I’m pleased beyond words.”

She lifted her face and met his gaze. “You don’t seem pleased.”

“I am.”

His voice was without inflection. He seemed uncharacteristically at a loss. “I’m having this baby whether you like it or not,” she said, incontrovertible resolve in her words. “I don’t care what—”

He stopped her protest with a gentle finger to her mouth. “I
want
you to have our baby. Don’t think for a minute that I don’t want this child. I just never thought—or hoped, I suppose . . . that something like this could really happen . . . to me.” That he would achieve such happiness, that such delight would be his. He wasn’t in the habit of being happy. “Now that it’s actually happened”—he sucked in a breath—“you’ll have to give me some time to get used to it. And you’ll always come first in my life, you and this child,” he said, his voice strained, his throat jammed, wanting everything to go right, not sure he could bear it if it didn’t.

“And Chris,” she kindly said.

It felt as though his heart was in his throat. He quickly swallowed. “And Chris,” he answered. “Truly, I’m so very happy about all of this, I can’t begin to tell you how I feel.”

“You can tell me later,” Zelda softly said, gazing up at him, her heart in her eyes. “Don’t cry or I’ll cry.”

“I never cry.” He never had in memory. Although he wasn’t so sure right now. A child, his and Zelda’s child. What had he done to be so extraordinarily rewarded?

A door closed downstairs.

Zelda drew in a quick breath. “We should go before they come up.”

He stepped away. “Let me talk to them.” Quarrelsome men he could deal with; it wasn’t so impossible as this. “I’ll make it clear to your family that I won’t be repeating my mistakes. That’s what they want to hear. And Fitzwilliam is buying off two magistrates. He promised me the speediest divorce in history.”

She laughed. “He’d better hurry.”

“I’ll make sure he knows the schedule has tightened appreciably.” He smiled. “By the way, you’re not allowed to ride anymore.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I’ll show you what I dare later. Very gently. Don’t worry,” he pleasantly said, a seasoned player at this particular game. “You’ll be satisfied. I’m very good at consoling you.”

Her face lost its petulance. “You do have an engaging manner.”

“Practice,” he said with a grin and ran for the door.

He heard her shoe hit the door as he escaped into the hall.

CHAPTER 31

A
LEC ENTERED THE dining room under the punishing gaze of the MacKenzie men. The table had been cleared, two port decanters resided on the polished mahogany, and on his entrance, each man set down the glass they were holding.

Not that Alec cared to test the truth of his drollery, with the woman he loved waiting for him upstairs. And, of course, the larger issue of his marriage to Zelda required that he mind his manners. Regardful of those constraints, Alec schooled his expression to a bland courtesy, shut the door behind him, and calmly met the brooding scrutiny of his tribunal. He took note of the absence of servants; the men hadn’t wanted witnesses. He’d expected no less. Breaking the cool silence, he said, “I have come to present my case. If after hearing me, you have any questions, I’m prepared to answer them.” What he refrained from saying was that he’d have Zelda for his wife whether they liked it or not.

His hands folded before him, his gaze steady, he went on in a cool, dry voice. “First, I want you to know that my divorce is before the courts and my barrister promises me swift action. Second, several weeks ago, I asked Zelda to be my wife, she accepted and made me happier than I’d thought possible.” He stopped for a moment, his eyes open and unseeing. Then, because he was here for a reason, he blinked and went on, although more slowly. “Happiness is a new sensation for me. All my life I’ve carried the imprint of my father’s cruelty, so the joy I now feel is unthinkably sweet. For that alone I’d marry your daughter and sister. But I also love her for herself. She’s a gift I don’t deserve. But she’s accepted me, and with all due respect,” he said with his heart if not tact, “I mean to keep her.”

Aware of the continued, uncompromising silence, in an extraordinary act of submission, he went on to reveal what only a handful of people knew. “My marriage was a forced marriage. Not for the usual reasons or only partly for the usual reasons. Zelda knows the circumstances. I’ve told her. You may ask her if you wish.” He couldn’t, in the end talk, of Violetta and his father to these strangers. “I’ve not been private with the Countess of Dalgliesh since our wedding day four years ago.” He took a small breath, the memory of his wedding night still capable of making him want to retch. “The countess has been warned off in the strongest possible terms. She’ll not trouble Zelda or myself or anyone in my family. I’ve taken every precaution to assure Zelda’s safety and happiness. As for—”

“That’s enough my boy,” Sir Gavin gruffly said. He’d known Alec’s father; a foul, depraved man with a vast fortune and no soul. Sir Gavin’s heart when out to Alec for a childhood such as his. “Come. Sit. Hugh, pour Dalgliesh a bumper of port. A damned fine vintage, if I do say so myself. Move over, Robbie. Make way for your sister’s betrothed.”

“There’s one thing more, sir,” Alec said, moving toward the chair pulled out for him, not sure he wished to disturb the precious détente. But the news he had to tell them wasn’t inconsequential. Nor would it wait. “It has to do with Zelda, with me as well. Us together,” he deliberately added.

“No need, my boy,” Sir Gavin bluffly asserted. “Everyone knows about the bairn. Her maid broadcast the news below stairs the first morning Zelda came back.” He gave Alec a mindful look as he sat. “I expect ye’ll see that she’s married in good time.”

“God yes. You can be sure of that.”

Sir Gavin chuckled. “Aye, ye’ll want your heir all right and tight in the peerage.”

Alec shook his head, then studied the port in his glass for a moment before looking up. “I never considered having children until I met Zelda. So an heir’s not my first consideration. I have other titles and fortune enough so no child of mine would be without resources. Rather, I’m concerned for Zelda. I don’t wish to see her viewed with censure by society, and for that I’ll move heaven and earth to ensure a prompt marriage.”

“You’d best keep your notions about children to yourself, my boy. Zelda’s mad for bairns.”

Alec smiled. “Too late, I’m afraid. But she knows I’m more than willing to alter my views. You might say she was instrumental in my transformation.”

“She’s a right powerful lassie, no doubt o’ that,” her father proudly said. “Not even daunted by Chinese bandits, damn her spunk.”

“Keep it in mind, Dalgliesh.” Zelda’s oldest brother, Hugh, grinned. “Nor does society’s censure matter to my sister. She’s not in the least conformable.”

“He’ll find out soon enough,” Robbie cheerfully noted. “Ye can’t return the merchandise though, laddie.”

With a grin, John raised his glass to Alec. “And stay clear of her when she’s got a quirt in her hand.”

Sir Gavin chuckled. “Now, boys, dinna scare off the bridegroom.” Leaning over, he topped off Alec’s glass. “Drink up, laddie. We’ve a wee bit o’ celebrating to do.”

Forty minutes later, Zelda appeared in the doorway in a heavily quilted, velvet robe of deep hyacinth, her flamboyant hair tumbled on her shoulders, her feet in sheepskin slippers to ward off the drafts. “I’m keeping him, so you mustn’t frighten him away.” Her gaze was limpid, her smile of good cheer as she surveyed each of the large, flame-haired men in her family. “No shooting, mind.”

“Don’t worry,” Alec said, raising his glass to her. “We’re friends.”

Her father’s smile was teasing. “Aye, an’ he says ye’re not to ride anymore.”

“Is that so?”

“Naturally, it’s open to discussion.” Alec knew better than to debate the issue here.

“Well, I’m pleased to hear that,” she sweetly said. “Now if you’ll kindly set down your glass, Dalgliesh, I have need of you. If you stay much longer, you willna be much good to me.”

As Alec pushed his chair back and left the table, a drunken chorus of raucous and overly personal exhortations having to do with willful women and henpecked men followed him. All of which he sensibly ignored. Reaching Zelda a few moments later, he smiled. “Forgive me, darling. I’ve been busy improving my image with your family.”

“And doing it very well, it appears,” she murmured, drawing him out into the hall and moving toward the stairway. “Now you may turn your pleasing efforts on me. I’ve been waiting what seems a very long time.”

“I’m sorry. Your father has some excellent port.”

“I’m so happy to hear it.”

He knew that tone of voice in a woman. “I’ll make amends, darling, for my discourtesy. I’m at your command. I’m damned sober. And,” he said with a lavish smile, “six days necessitous. By the way, they knew about the baby.”

She shot him a look as they ascended the stairs. “No!”

“Yes. Before I told them or as I was making a hash of telling them. Your maid apparently spread the news. Your father had the family bible brought in and pointed out the page where the name of our firstborn will be written.”

“Oh, Lord, and I suppose he showed you the hair from our first haircuts and our baby teeth. He’s impossibly sentimental when he drinks.”

“Actually, I found it very nice.” In contrast to his father, who spewed hate at his son. “I enjoyed seeing it all. We must get ourselves a bible.” He grinned at her shocked stare. “For the baby names. Did you think I was going to have you reading passages from the bible or make you go to church instead of hunt on Sunday?”

“Make me go to church?” she said, having forgotten the reason for her surprise.

“I can make you do things,” he softly said.

“Not that.”

“Maybe I could. With the right compensation.”

A raised brow, a lush smile. “What kind of compensation might that be?”

“As soon as we get to your bedroom and I lock the door, I’ll show you.”

“Lock the door?”

“Just to be safe.”

“From whom?”

“Mostly your family.” His smile was wicked. “Were you worried about something else?”

“No, no, of course not.”

“Maybe you should be. I haven’t seen you in days.”

“You said you’d be gentle.”

“I will be. I might just be gentle for a very long time.”

“How long exactly?” she said in a soft purr that brought his cock to parade-ground attention.

“As long as you can stand it,” he said with unimpeachable confidence. He knew what he was doing, he’d known what he was doing for a decade or more and had the reputation to prove it.

When they reached her bedroom and Alec locked the door, the small metallic click sent an edgy little frisson of excitement racing through her senses. She spun around in a shimmer of purple velvet and a flurry of heliotrope scent. “How do you do it?” She held up her trembling hands. “Make me like this?”

“I’m glad I do,” he said, pocketing the key, moving closer, and gently taking her hands in his. “You don’t know how glad I am.” Raising her hands to his mouth, he brushed her knuckles with his lips, then looked up, his gaze slipping over the curve of her fingers. “You’re more precious to me than life.” He stared at her for a moment in amazement, frightened, too, not quite sure he deserved this quiet happiness. She reminded him of some fairy-tale beauty in her long velvet robe, her hair tumbled on her shoulders, her eyes like midnight orchids. Then, recovering, his smile appeared and his eyes sparkled. “Now if I’m to please you, what would you like first?”

“Surprise me,” she said, teasing like him, because she, too, was frightened. She’d never loved anyone like this. She hadn’t known love could make your heart ache and fill you with alarm.

“I’m not sure I have much left in my repertoire you haven’t seen or felt or”—he grinned—“screamed to.” He cast a swift glance around the turret room of the original castle, his gaze flickering over the tapestry-hung stone walls stout enough to withstand cannon. “Not that sound’s a problem here. Come,” he said, drawing her to the high, carved bed, unquestionably on familiar ground once again. “Wait for me while I stoke the fires. I wouldn’t want you to be cold.”