An Unmistakable Rogue (18 page)

He experienced a freedom of spirit then, an elation he wished he could share with Chastity. If these two small caskets held remains, he would happily hand Sunnyledge to her.

If they were empty, or held a book, he would continue to search, but whatever the outcome, he would see to it that Chastity got her children’s home ... somewhere. Though nowhere, but here, with him, seemed right.

Had he gone utterly daft over this horrific search?

He lifted a tiny casket—too light—took a breath and grasped the lid, until panic seized him. Looking about, he sat on a front pew, the casket on his lap. He wished he knew how to pray. He feared it empty, feared as much that it held the remains of a babe. Neither sight appealed.

Did he want to be one of the St. Yves twins? Had anyone, before Chastity, ever
cared
what he wanted?

Reed tore off the lid, his unwitting shout of anguish disturbing the doves in the eaves, their fracas of flapping fit accompaniment to his find. Empty—as empty as his life—of all but a few desiccated beetles on a bed of white satin, a bed that never bore the body of a babe.

Neither did it hold a book.

He rose to fetch the other and opened the second with dispatch, his reaction no less intense. As empty as the first. Yet, when he looked more closely, he found dust of a different sort. Paper dust. Yellowed, and thick like flour, with grainy particles.

The beetles, when he compared them, were of a different ilk. Paper-eaters. He had seen their damage in the squire’s study. This coffin
had
held a book, but where was it now?

His heart raced with anticipation and loss. If he
was
a missing son of Clarissa St. Yves, where was his brother? Which of them was heir? Did he care?

He had a brother. Blood of his blood. “To the devil with Duncan for keeping his own counsel all these years.”

Reed heard a shuffle and a step, then Chastity’s call.

She stopped in the doorway, sunshine making of her hair a fiery halo.

“Come and see what I—”

A scrape from behind, and Chastity screamed.

A woman’s laugh. Familiar. Frightening.

An alabaster angel, huge, wings spread, toppled his way.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Reed rolled into the overturned sarcophagus for cover, as if his mother would keep him safe, a thought as disconcerting as an angel shattering upon the spot he just vacated, the reverberation deafening.

A severed wing flew in his direction and glanced off Clarissa St. Yves’s haven. Two stained glass windows shattered at impact, and a second statue fell.

The abrupt silence became a shock.

The sound of Chastity weeping moved Reed to action. He found her on the cold stone floor, her face buried in her arms, and lifted her in his embrace. “Chastity, Sweetheart, where are you hurt?”

She struggled against him at first, lost in grief. Then she looked up and
saw
him. “Reed!” She kissed his face, his hands, her tears anointing him.

Dazed from the roar of fracturing stone, Reed sat in a pew and took her on his lap to prove her unhurt, so relieved, he caught her against him and kissed her, there, amid open caskets and fallen angels.

Chastity—a woman for staying with. It frightened Reed to wonder if that’s what he wanted. Chastity and the children, forever?

There
was a question.

She kissed his cut hands and traced the gash on his temple, exclaiming at the blood on her fingers after she caressed his nape. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

That word, again.

Her tears began anew, wetting his neck, his collar. He held her till she calmed, then led her from the chapel.

“A blessing,” Chastity said, sharing her thoughts of necessity. “A step from gloom into sunlight. A sky blue, the earth moist, the grass lush. It all gives testament to life and hope, does it not?”

Strangely silent, Reed kept his arm around her all the way back to Sunnyledge. He had nearly been killed. Between that, and her wonder of the night before, she was suddenly afraid if she spoke again, she would say the words he did not want to hear.

She loved him. She could not live without him.

He must never guess. She must be free to go, or to stay.

Their time together was coming to an end. Two weeks left. According to their agreement, if he found no proof of his heritage, he would leave. And if he was the Barrington heir, she and the children would go.

Once she got him to the house, she urged him to the settee in the library, her folded apron beneath his head to stem the blood. His side bled, as well.

“Matthew,” she said, noting four worried faces. “Fetch my medical kit. Take your sister and brothers with you.”

“Want Weed,” Bekah said, sitting mutinously on the floor beside him. When she saw Chastity wouldn’t send her away, she took Reed’s hand.

Matthew went for the kit, Luke and Mark arguing over who would carry it.  

Reed smiled and closed his eyes. His head must be throbbing.

The war that raged inside her since she learned of his purpose at Sunnyledge waned. Had he uncovered some vital piece of information? He should know who he was.

He opened his eyes when she probed the cut on his temple.

“Did you find anything?” she asked.

“Everything,” he said on a sigh, “and nothing.”

She smoothed his furrowed brow. “Explain, please.”

“They died the day I was born, Chastity, the woman and her babes, but the small caskets were empty. I believe Lady Barrington rests in the large one. I left her in peace.”

If Reed was one of the twins, William must be the other, though she saw no reason to bring up her husband’s note at this late date.
His
quest ended with his death. “What will you do now?”

“Continue to search in the house, I suppose. The book Duncan said he buried in one of the caskets seems to have gone missing.”

Chastity accepted her medical kit from Matt. “It’s good to know what you’re looking for, I suppose.”

“Ouch! That hurt.”

“Sorry.” She cleaned the gash on the back of his head. “What do you expect to find in the book?”

Reed sighed when she lowered his head to the settee. “I haven’t the slightest idea. I
might
be one of the twins. Mayhap, if I find that book, I’ll find that Clarissa’s twins did
not
die with her.”

“They might have died at any time over the years.”

Reed mocked himself with his laugh. “Nobody could have called me a dreamer growing up, Chastity, but I’m willing to bet you were. Yet your pragmatism is like a splash of ice water.”

She sat back. “Sweetheart—”

The children giggled, and Reed regarded Matt fixedly.

“Were going,” Matt said on a sigh.

Reed got Bekah to stand by tugging her hand and urging her near. “I feel better, Poppet. Thank you for helping. Do you think you could go and play with your brothers, now, so Kitty and I can talk?”

“Dolly?”

Reed regarded the boys. “Sure, they’ll play dolly with you.”

The three groaned in unison, but two of them were holding Bekah’s hand as they left.

“I did not intend to discourage you,” Chastity said.

“Neither did I mean to chastise. You are the most beautiful devil’s advocate, ever. And though I hate to admit it, you’re making me see that I’m wearing blinders. Any more common sense to impart?”

“Do you not wonder who removed the book from the casket and why?”

“If there was ever a book. More likely a figment of Old Digger’s ale-addled mind.” Reed chuckled but stopped to hold his head. “I’m sick of being dizzy.”

“If you weren’t so accident-prone—”

“But I’m not. Never have been, until—”

Chastity winced. “The arrow?”

“One might have been an accident, but two makes me wonder, or were there three?”

“Climbing the house to fetch us caused you to reopen an old wound, so I guess that doesn’t count, and as for this one, you probably dislodged the angel when you overturned the sarcophagus. I saw the mess you made.”

“I did not think the sarcophagus hit the angel.”

“Reed you were so determined, it’s a wonder—”

Rebekah’s wail arrived before her. She held her doll, the body in one hand, the head in the other. “Weed, fix?”

“What happened?” Chastity asked.

Bekah stamped her foot. “Luke.”

“What a surprise,” Reed said, sitting up to accept the doll in two parts. “That’s how I feel right now.” His smile belied his words as Bekah climbed into his lap.

“Do you think I can fix anything?”

At her nod, he sighed and examined the broken toy.

Here sat a man, Chastity observed, who could not abide children, but she knew better, and so did the children. Did he?

She could not help compare the old Reed Gilbride to this one, with an adoring child in his lap—whose hair he braided every morning—his large capable hands repairing a bisque doll. Why? Because Bekah believed he could, because he would do anything for her.

Chastity knew that Matt, Luke and Bekah loved Reed as much as she did. With Mark, it was difficult to tell. Mark never let on that he cared about anyone. Oh, his actions revealed concern. He
loved
his brothers and sister, though he did not say so, but he did not seem as angry, in general, as he used to.

Reed managed to reconnect dolly to her head and hand the cherished toy back to Bekah. “All better.”

Bekah showed it to Chastity with a smile. “Weed make dolly better.”

Reed whispered in Bekah’s ear, and she nodded, jumped from his lap, and ran from the room. “She’s going to tell the boys to wash for dinner. I wanted a minute.”

“Something you were afraid to tell me in front of her?”

“Something I was afraid to do in front of her.” Reed locked the door and approached her, his topaz eyes hot with purpose. In keeping with the way they’d kissed and touched the night before, he took liberties, with his hands, his lips. He cupped her breasts and she turned languorous and needy, her body reacting in new and shocking ways.

“I need to make dinner,” she said between kisses. “You told them to wash. We’ve got maybe five minutes before—”

“Now I remember why children annoy me.”

“I could tell the way you beat Bekah off.”

“I’m a beast.”

“Stop pretending, Reed Gilbride. You’re a good and thoughtful man.”

“High praise. How many men have you known?”

“Two, no, three, if you count Mr. Sennett.”

“And the other was your husband?”

She nodded.

“And you lost him when, nearly three months ago?”

“Nearly four. Why?”

“Could you be with child?” Reed spread a palm over her abdomen. His hand fit well, warm and right.

She shrugged. “How does one get with child ... and why are you looking at me as if I have two heads?”

“The sisters told you nothing? Of the marriage bed? You— Last night was a new experience, you said.”

“I’m not certain what you mean, Reed, but frankly, I’m glad you’re the man who taught me everything.”

“Everything?” She meant that. She thought last night was all that happened between a man and a woman. Reed’s body readied for another lesson. “Did William never—”

She had no idea what he asked; that was certain. Lord, he would need to be gentle. Had he ever taken a virgin before? “Chastity, I’d like to finish our ... talk, after the children are in bed. There’s more I’d like to teach you, if you’ll allow me?”

“I cannot imagine what, but I want to know all of it, if you’re willing?”

It took forever to settle the children that night.

As if they knew this as the worst night to test his limits, they did everything to be allowed to stay up. To appease them, Reed acted out a story he made up, about Harry and Harriet Hedgehog and their house in the giant pumpkin in farmer Digger’s patch.

Chastity was still wiping tears of laughter from her eyes when he left her to settle the children. She would put Bekah in a small nursery bed in the boys’ room and fetch her later. If Reed had his way, that would not happen until the wee hours.

Preparing her bath, he lit more candles. Usually, he took a dip in the lake, or went up to his room, while she bathed, but he wanted tonight to be special.

By the time the tub was full and Chastity stood in the kitchen doorway, Reed was glad he planned to stay. He could not bear the thought of leaving her, even for her bath. “Come here,” he said.

She came without question and stood before him, biting her lip, a sign she sensed the heat between them. He did not open his arms, because he wanted to take it slow, but that seemed to confuse her. “I want to unbraid your hair,” he said as he turned her. “Then I need to run my hands through it, if you do not mind.”

“I like your hands in my hair. I like—”

“Me too,” he said, a hoarseness in his voice. Easy, Gilbride. Take it slow. This is not a bugle charge, and she is not a member of the French Cavalry.

He savored as he undid the copper braid, every glorious strand, until he ran his fingers through it to memorize the sensation. He let a hank glide across Chastity’s cheek. “Feel how soft,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck.

She leaned against him with a sigh and he reached around to undo her buttons while making a meal of her neck. He opened her bodice and slipped a hand inside, felt the rapid beat of her heart. With the other, he wielded her hair like a powder puff, caressing her face with it, between her breasts. “Tonight, I’m going to spread your hair across our naked bodies while I make you soar.”

“Oh Reed.”

He splayed his hand over her abdomen and pulled her against him. “Feel what you do to me.”

The scent of roses and rain enveloped him, and he turned her to dispatch her buttons. He considered suggesting they share the bath, but she did by reaching to undo his buttons, her heightened color giving her intentions away.

Tonight, they would make memories.

He watched as she opened his shirt and worked his trouser buttons free. “Are you certain, Sweetheart?”

She blushed. “Yes, but no one has ever seen me—”

“Naked. Try, you can say it.”

“Other than you, last night, and you really did not see much.”

“No, but I touched what I could not see.”

She moaned and hid her face against his chest.

She was an untried virgin and he had been granted the pleasure of teaching her. Of love, she knew. Of pleasure, she did not.

He took the opportunity to divest her of several layers. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he got distracted because she started kissing his chest and when she slipped a hand inside his pants, she damned near ended the game.

Her clothes were gone so quick, she hardly knew what happened. He took advantage of her shock to undress himself. “Maybe we should be using cold water,” he said, as he lifted her into the tub.

Their sighs mingled as hot water sluiced over them. They chuckled, untangling legs and other parts.

Reed took the soap and washcloth and removed Chastity’s hands from her breasts to lather them. “You have a lot to learn, tonight. I want you to know pure pleasure.” Lord how he wanted. Not that I could not have taken you standing, but you want some
slow
pleasuring.”

Reed lost the cloth, but kept lathering the creamy froth against her creamy breasts. Chastity did some rubbing of her own, making him so randy, he gasped. “Lord, maybe this was not such a good idea,” he said, as she washed right on down past his stomach. “Then again....”

“You like that?” As Chastity delighted in her power, Reed leaned back, closed his eyes, and reveled in the hot sensations licking at his insides.

She did some two-handed exploring. “Ah, and you like that, too, and that. Oh! Kind of soft, there.”

Reed pulled back. “Kind of important, there.”

Chastity giggled at his stern look. “I have an idea,” she said, turning and snuggling her back against his front.

He kissed her nape, nuzzled her ear, and washed her, everywhere. She took to lathering his legs around her waist. “This is fun. We should do it more oft— Reed, something’s poking me. Hard.”

“Good description,” he drawled.

She turned to look up at him. “Is that?”

“Mm hmm.”

“The boys do not.”

“When they’re older and find a seductress who smells of roses and rain, who has a fine bottom, and breasts that say, ‘here I am,’ the boys will have their turn.”