Undeniable Rogue (The Rogues Club Book One) (22 page)

Without a word, Rafferty slipped off the bed and headed for the door.

“Rafe,” Sabrina called. “Where are you going?”

The pensive boy turned toward his mother, keeping his hand on the knob. “Mincemeat needs me.”

“Let him go,” Gideon said.

Sabrina nodded and Rafe left.

Damon scrambled up to his mother’s side and kissed her. “I gots to go think.” Then he kissed Juliana’s tiny cheek and hopped off the bed. As he passed Gideon, he reached up and tugged his hand, holding it for a moment before he ran out.

“That went well,” Gideon said.

Sabrina looked concerned. “We shall see.”

When Damon had touched his hand, Gideon sensed a kind of connection, one he did not comprehend, as if Damon had pricked his finger but Gideon felt the pain. Gideon knew only that it made him both uncomfortable and hopeful.

This fathering business was much more demanding than he anticipated and still he did not know whether he was up to it.

A father was a man whose seed had
taken
, a man like his own. A father ignored small beings and took mothers away from same. A father sneered at questions and physically punished dirty hands and childhood transgressions. He beat rebellion out of one to first blood, and taunted weakness to the point that iniquity could be misrepresented as strength.

No wonder he was afraid to be a father. No wonder he had wanted at first to turn tail and run.

At this moment, he was feeling very much as if that might still be a good idea. What did a cold-hearted rogue like him know of children, anyway, except what kind of father not to be.

When Juliana started fussing, he took her from Sabrina. And when the babe looked up at him, as if he had all the answers in her world, Gideon realized that he would change nothing. He had become a father, whether he wanted to or not, and he would do his best to be a good one, or die trying.

After he walked Juliana for a bit and she fell asleep, he kissed her small cheek and placed her in her cradle. “There’s my sleepy girl.”

Then he bent over Sabrina. “I need to go and see my poor grandmother, who knows only that I have married, not that I have three children.”

Sabrina touched his sleeve. “If there is a man across the street—”

“I shall send him packing, posthaste, and set the runners on him.” Gideon smiled his reassurance.

“Thank you,” she said, her relief clear.

“If there is neither a phantom watcher nor a hideous dragon, however, I would like to keep previous appointments with my man of affairs and my tailor, if I possibly can. That is, if you feel you can do without me for the morning. In which case, I shall see you again at luncheon.”

Pleased that Gideon felt the need to tell his grandmother about her children, and glad he cared whether she needed him or not, Sabrina kissed him with passion when he bent to her.

“Mmm. Rest while I am gone, so you will be up to giving Papa your attention again someday soon.”

Sabrina could not rest, she was too busy fretting over Damon’s tale of a man across the street. Yes, Damon had an imagination, but he never insisted his stories into blatant lies. Details like the time of day, the fact that Rafe was sleeping, and most importantly, that the man seemed familiar, worried her. The boys had only been three when, along with her, they had been given by Brian to Lowick, so they might very well find Lowick familiar.

And Lowick might be hideous now. In her defensive assault with the rusty blade she found in his cellar, she could easily have scarred him, though, God help her, she had hoped she killed him.

More than ever, she wanted to tell Gideon about the man she was sold to for the price of her husband’s gambling debts. Life was good here at Stanthorpe Place. Safe. Gideon cared for her in his own way. He cared for the children. But how would he feel, if he knew about her shameful past?

Whether he knew of it or not, he would protect her, of that she was certain. So, if she already had his protection, why risk telling him?

There was the problem. The risk. And she was not willing to take it. Decision made.

Not that she did not trust, Gideon, precisely. She trusted him more than she did most men, especially her first husband. Yes, she was hiding money from him, which she kept in her desk, where, he had come upon her twice now. But she kept it for a reason. In the event Lowick located her, she would need the money to get away. Except that for the first time in her life, she did not want to leave.

Here, she was safe. Here, her children were safe. Here, even her money was safe, for if Gideon did find it, he would not take it. She simply did not want to explain its existence. She had worked hard for that money for years, sewing, writing letters, washing clothes.

Her first husband used to search out and steal her secreted coins when he could, until she began sewing them, individually, into the flat, oilcloth belly-bands the twins wore beneath their diapers.

If not for the money she had kept from Brian’s greedy hands, she might never have gotten herself and the twins away from Lowick and safely to Hawksworth.

If they were safe.

In weak moments, Sabrina very much feared that Brian’s fall into the Thames had not come about by accident, as the runners thought, that Homer Lowick had pushed Brian, because her flight negated the payment of his gambling debts.

In weak moments, she expected to come face to face with Homer Lowick at every turn.

But here they were safe.

Gideon would keep them safe.

* * *

Gideon’s paternal grandmother, now the Dowager Duchess of Basingstoke, regarded Gideon as if he had grown horns and a tail. “Three of them?”

Gideon nodded. “Two boys and a girl.”

His grandmother shook her head. “I said to get yourself a bride and an heir, not someone else’s heirs.”

“The boys are scamps.” Gideon grinned. “Damon has enough energy to power Trevithick’s locomotive. As a matter of fact,
Catch-me-who-can
is a good way to describe that one. And his twin, Rafferty, Rafe, is going to be a great thinker someday. They are full of questions and make me dizzy sometimes.”

Gideon regarded his grandmother’s appalled expression. “I thought I should run when I first saw them, but you will never believe—”

“I begin to think I can believe anything.”

“I rather like them,” Gideon said. “Sticky fingers, pup puddles, and all.”

“That will pass.”

“Not before I get some of my own, I hope.”

“Are you ill?” his grandmother rose and tested his brow with the back of her frail hand. “What have you done with my heartless rogue of a grandson?”

Gideon took her hand, smoothed his thumb over her translucent, parchment-like skin and kissed her knuckles. “We named the new babe, Juliana.”

His grandmother blinked at the welling of tears in her eyes before turning her hand to cup his cheek. “I do not remember ever having felt so honored.”

She squared her shoulders and reclaimed her composure. “I was afraid that your selfish parents had put you off marriage for good. I expected to have to bully you into getting yourself an heir.”

Gideon chuckled. “Pray do not tell me how you planned to accomplish that,” he said. “The picture in my mind is infamous.”

“Rude boy.” She kissed the top of his head and Gideon made to rise.

“No, sit, sit. That was not a dismissal. I shall call for tea. Eventually, I want to hear about every member of your new family, especially about your bride. But first, let me tell you something I learned about your brother and Veronica Cartwright.”

* * *

Gideon returned to Stanthorpe Place later than he expected, because he had made a call at Bow street, after all, and set them to looking into Lady Veronica Cartwright’s dealings and finances.

When he entered his study, he found Chalmer trying to clean an ink stain the size of a dinner plate off the oriental carpet.

Gideon smiled when he saw it, not because he disliked the carpet, but because of the inky paw prints weaving in and out of the stain in all directions. “Throw it out and purchase a new one,” Gideon said. “Or put it somewhere beneath a bed or a sofa.”

He went up to the nursery to talk to the boys.

As one, they backed up when he entered.

Gideon shook his head, knowing that nothing he could say would negate their fear, that he must prove to them, over time, that he would not hurt them. “I came to see if you would like to go exploring with me later this afternoon.”

“Exploring where?” Damon asked, stepping nearer.

“This house, of course. The wonders in my study are nothing to the marvels in some of the other rooms. I have a display of Stanthorpe armor in the long gallery. Did you know that?”

Rafe’s chin went up. “You mean you will show us whatever we want to see?”

“I will not allow you to play with swords or pistols, mind, but yes, within reason, you may examine whatever you wish.”

“Ripping,” Damon said.

Rafe narrowed his eyes. “Why?”  

“So we can spend some time together, get to know each other better. Like when we went hunting. So you will have a chance to examine things that interest you. So I will be able to answer your questions and keep you from breaking your heads, or whatever else on you that might get cracked. If I were there, I could prevent other breakage and spills as well. But most of all, it is your necks, I am concerned about.”

Rafe actually grinned. “Famous.”

When Gideon got to Sabrina’s bedchamber, she had just finished feeding Juliana. “How many times a day does she eat? Ten? Twenty?”

“It seems so,” she said, wiping Juliana’s milk-wet mouth. “How is your grandmother?”

“She is well, and anxious to meet her namesake, the boys and you. She will be coming to visit soon.”

“Your grandmother is coming here?”

“She is.” Gideon could not keep from taking Juliana from her cradle and putting her on his shoulder.

“What day is she coming?” Sabrina asked, re-buttoning her bodice. “Please tell me you were able to hold her off for a little while.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

For a week after Juliana’s birth, Gideon moved back into his own bedchamber, so Sabrina could get some sleep and recover. During those nights, he missed his wife more than he cared to admit.

On the eighth evening, he appeared in her bedchamber in his dressing gown. She sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair, and he sat beside her and took up the brush. “I miss sleeping with you,” he said. “No, it is more than that. I miss laughing with you when you are in my arms. And I miss being alone with you. We are never alone anymore.”

When Sabrina leaned against him, he encircled her with his arms and brought her close.

“And you miss playtime,” she said.

Gideon cleared his throat. “Yes, well, but not only that.”

“I am sorry that we are never alone.” She regarded him, steadily. “With three children, aloneness is a difficult state to achieve.”

“I am not complaining about the children.”