A Dangerous Man (39 page)

Not only was that harlot scheming to steal her man, she
was scheming to steal her daughter too. Rachel would not
let her win, but she needed a plan. Her last attempt had been
a disaster. She had believed all she needed was to remind
Richard of the passion that had raged between them, so she
had slipped into his bed. She should never have done that, she
could see that now. Not until he was ready to accept her love,
to admit that he loved her still. But the temptation had been
too hard to resist. She had wanted him so badly and for so
long. Before she could see him again, he had fled Town to
escape her. Now this!

What could she do? He was far too noble to abandon his
wife while she was heavy with his child. Even after the birth,
the child's presence would connect them for life.

If all that weren't bad enough, they were stuck on the coast
of Cornwall, with its windswept cliffs, its slate gray sky, its
distance from London, with nothing to distract him, no society worth mentioning, no business to take him away from his
wife.

"Richard, this child is hot," Leah said, her lips pressed up
against Alison's brow.

He touched the back of his hand to Alison's cheek. "Mrs.
Parrish, Lady Alison is ill. Did you fail to notice?"

"No, sir. I told Her Grace we ought not to travel."

"See that the physician is sent for, at once" He waited until
the servant carried Alison from the room before approaching
Rachel. She had to lock her knees to keep from retreating.

"I shall have your explanation for this stupidity"

She peeled off her gloves, forced a nonchalance into her
tone. "It is a cold, Richard. Nothing more, nothing less. The
child constantly has a cold. I cannot possibly wait for her to
feel well every time I wish to travel."

"Then you should have left her in London with Geoffrey."

"Nonsense," Rachel sniffed. "Alison goes wherever I go
and she always will."

"Only at my discretion," he said, his voice, a low, dangerous growl as he leaned toward her. "If you ever do anything
this foolish again, I will remove her from your care. And lest
you think me less than serious, let me reassure you. I will
start a scandal that will rock the ton for years to come, and
you will never recover."

When he was standing this close, she could smell his skin
and yearning churned within her stomach, made her legs
weaken and her pulse beat a frantic rhythm in her ears. How
long would he keep up this pretense? How long would he pretend not to care?

"You would not dare," she said, longing to lay her palm
against his cheek, to lick her tongue over his lips, to stroke his
manly flesh. She swallowed. "What of your precious Alison?"

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to shout to
the world that she is mine. Then I would reap a double benefit, for I would be free of you as well."

Rachel glanced at Leah to see if she had heard his words,
but the stupid chit had moved to the far end of the room, no
doubt to give them privacy for their conversation.

She breathed deeply, uncertain how to reply, how far to push him. She was saved from having to answer when Harris
entered the room and strode to Richard's side. She moved a
little closer, studied the warm sienna silk paper hanging the
walls as if she'd never seen it before.

"Mr. Enderson of Bow Street has arrived, Your Grace. He
awaits you in your office," the butler said.

"Excellent. I will join him shortly"

Though her heart was racing and her breathing shallow,
Rachel drew upon years of training to maintain her serene
countenance and even tone of voice. "Why do you need a
runner?"

"A business matter," he said, but she could see the lie in his
eyes. Why had he hired a Bow Street Runner? Had she made
a mistake? Did he suspect? How could he? Too much time
had passed.

No proof would exist at this late date.

He murmured something to his wife before leaving the
room.

Rachel listened to his footsteps recede down the hall before
approaching Leah, who was watching Rachel through placid
eyes, seemingly unaware of her danger.

She folded her arms across the shelf of her distended belly.

Rachel followed the movement, then dragged her gaze to
the mullioned windows, to the view of the lawn sloping down
toward the trees. Anything to keep her thoughts off the child.
"So, you have reconciled with your husband, have you? Did
he happen to mention-"

"Stop," Leah said, holding up one hand. "If you think to
shock me by blurting out that Alison is Richard's daughter,
save yourself the trouble. I know the sordid story, and you
know, I pity you. So desperate for the man you threw away,
you had to climb into his bed when he was insensible from
drink just to have him. You ruined his life, and you shamed
his brother"

She pities me? Rachel almost laughed, the stupid fool. "We
have been together these few months past. Did he tell you that?"

Rachel leaned toward Leah, lowered her voice. "No, I see
he did not. It was me he wanted and me he had. He was hot
and heavy and huge. He took me and took me, in your bed
in the London house" She looked pointedly at Leah's swollen
belly. "If he hadn't learned of your conception, we would be
together still. It seems he won his bargain with your father,
after all."

Leah shook her head. "I honestly feel sorry for you"

"Save your pity for yourself," Rachel said. "It's me he loves
and he always will. We share a past. We share a history."

Leah smiled. "Do you want to know the funny thing about
the past, Rachel? It is over. Finished. Dead. It is the present
and future that have yet to be written. You may share a history
with Richard .... She ran her hand over her belly. "But we
are his future"

The nerve of the insolent chit!

Rachel glanced at the sidebar, saw the carving knife resting
on the breadboard. Her fingers itched to grab it, to plunge it over
and over again in the middle of Leah's overgrown stomach.

She resisted the urge. She needed to think!

And then Richard was back. He ignored Rachel as he
crossed to Leah's side, took her hands in his, pressed them
to his lips.

"Something has come up," he said. "I must leave."

She clutched his fingers. "Is it Geoffrey? Is he well?"

He kissed the back of her hands, lingering over her knuckles. Rachel thought she might retch.

"It is nothing for you to worry about, my love. Merely a
business matter. Still, I would rest easier if I could delay my
departure until Alison recovers from her cold."

"Do not worry about Alison," Leah said. "I shall see she
is cared for."

"You forget she has a mother to see to her needs," Rachel said with dripping sweetness. "Do go on, Richard. You know
I would never let anything happen to your daughter."

He did not respond to her taunt. Instead, he gathered his
wife in his arms and gave her a kiss so fierce and so hot,
Rachel wanted to dump the water pitcher over his head.

Unable to bear the sight of the man she loved in another
woman's arms, but determined not to show it, Rachel turned
and walked with icy dignity from the room.

"Uncle Richard is home," Alison said, running into the
crimson drawing room.

Her cheeks were red from trotting down the stairs. Her hair
springing free from her plaits, she grabbed the stitchery from
Leah's hands and tugged until Leah stood and accompanied
her to the windows. She pointed down the long tree-lined
drive. A moment later, the coach came into view.

"See, there. I told you"

"Indeed, you did." Leah laughed as she slipped her arm
around Alison's shoulders, but her smile quickly died as a
spasm clenched her womb. She breathed deeply, careful not
to let her discomfort show on her features. She wiped her
hand across her brow, surprised to find it damp with perspiration.

She had thought she would have another month to prepare,
but the midwife had told her this morning she didn't think
this babe would wait that long, given the position of the child
so low in the belly, and the sporadic pains plaguing Leah's
back.

The woman had assured her there was nothing to fear, that
many babes came a few weeks early, and many came a few
weeks late. Leah didn't want to admit it, but she was afraid.

She was glad Richard was back. Two long weeks had
passed since he had left and Leah had begun to fear he would miss the birthing. She wanted him with her when her
time came.

Not that he could help her, but just knowing he was near
would be a comfort to her. She understood him so well now.
She ached for his lonely childhood with his cold and distant
parents. She ached for the bitter betrayal he had suffered at
the hands of the woman he had loved. But most of all, she
ached for his anguish over his unwitting betrayal of his
brother and the guilt with which he had tortured himself for
years.

Rachel marched into the room. She cast a glare at Leah as
she stalked to the window, but she said nothing.

What vicious attack was she planning now?

From this distance, Leah could hear no sound as the carri age rolled over the frozen ground and came to a stop. A footman jumped off the box and opened the door, then Richard
stepped out, his features indistinguishable beneath his beaver
hat and with the collar of his greatcoat turned up against the
cold. Puffs of steam from his breath floated away on the wind.

"It is him," Alison shouted. "May I go out? Please?"

"Stop kicking up a fuss and go back to the nursery," Rachel
said. "Why are you always running loose? Where is that
wretched nurse?" She turned her shrewd gaze on Leah. "Where
do you think he has been? Or, more importantly, with whom?"

Leah had discovered the best method of dealing with
Rachel was simply to ignore her. She removed the plaits from
Alison's tousled hair, ran her fingers through the soft strands,
letting the curls flow over her shoulders. "Now you look all
grown up for when you greet your Uncle Richard."

Once on the ground, Richard turned and held up his hand
to aid someone inside the carriage. A slim, gloved hand appeared, followed by a daintily booted foot. The wind gusting
around the house pushed the woman and she slipped, her foot
skidding off the step. Richard grasped her waist to steady her, then eased her to the ground. Her hood fell back, revealing a
stunning young lady with flaming red hair and ivory skin.

Rachel snickered. Before she could launch her venomous
attack, Leah took Alison's hand in hers and led her from the
room. By the time they reached the entry, Richard was standing in the hallway, speaking softly to the woman beside him.

Alison launched herself at his leg in her customary greeting. He laughed as he kissed her, then motioned Leah forward, a mysterious smile upon his lips.

From a distance, the young woman had appeared lovely,
but up close she was stunning. She had ivory skin and wideset eyes, blue as cornflowers with a deeper blue circling the
edges and silver streaks glinting like diamonds near the dark
centers, a startling contrast to her gingered hair.

A momentary twinge of jealousy caused Leah's steps to
falter, but she pushed aside the foolish thought. She had faith
in her husband. She did. She approached him at a slightly
more dignified pace than Alison's. "Welcome home"

He set Alison on her feet. His mouth tilted in a somber
smile. "Leah, there is someone I would like you to meet"

When she was a few paces away from him, he stepped
aside.

Next to the woman, gripping her hand, was a young boy.
He had sandy hair and dimpled cheeks, but it was his eyes
that stopped Leah's breath, that made her heart feel as if it had
ceased beating, the gray-green eyes of her sister.

She pressed her hand to her throat.

"Leah," Richard said softly. "May I present to you Matthew
Jamison, son of Catherine Jamison."

Leah was vaguely aware of time moving forward, of movement around her, of Richard's hand on her elbow as she dropped
to her knees. She heard words being spoken, though she understood naught of what was said. It was as if she were standing
out on the cliffs, the gusting wind blocking all sound save for
the deafening waves thrashing the rocks below

All she could see was this child. Her sister's child, staring
back at her through Catherine's eyes, his dusty hair covering
his pallid brow. His skeleton suit clinging to his too-thin
chest. He hid his face in the skirts of the woman beside him.
After a few moments, he peeked at Leah from behind the
cloth. "Why are you crying?"

"Am I?" She swiped her hands over her cheeks, amazed
to find moisture clinging to her fingertips. She imagined she
looked truly frightful. She was a stranger to him after all.

She took a deep breath to calm her emotions. "I am just
so very happy to meet you. I have wanted to meet you for ever
so long."

She crushed her fists against her thighs to keep from grabbing his arms and dragging him to her chest. She wanted to
run her hands over his shoulders, to smooth his damp hair from his brow. Anything to prove he was well and truly here,
and not a dream.

"You look like my mum"

Leah nodded. "I am your mother's sister. I am your aunt"

"My mum's dead," he said, twisting his hands in the
nurse's skirts. The woman reached down, smoothed her hand
over his back.

Leah closed her eyes. She had long suspected, but to finally hear her worst fears confirmed sent a stabbing pain
through her chest. A tingling numbness spread over her fingers and toes. She was aware of Richard kneeling beside her,
of his hand stroking soothing circles over her back.

"I did not know that," she said, stretching out her arms. She
needed to touch this child. Her sister's child. "Do you think
you give me a hug?"

She held her breath as he stared at her through somber,
shadowed eyes. Then he took a step toward her and she
yanked him into her arms. She kissed his cheek, stroked his
brow, memorized his scent of rough-and-tumble boy, gingerbread he must have eaten for breakfast, and the crisp winter
air clinging to his clothes. She could hear Richard speaking
to her, but she was afraid that this was a dream, that if she
opened her eyes this child would be gone.