Brethren of the Coast Box Set 2

by Barbara Devlin

  “What?” His bride appeared on the verge of an apoplectic fit.

  He gulped. “Forget I said that.”

  “Not a chance.” Had he thought her fierce? “Expound on your assumption—now.”

  “I figured her breasts would prove useful—”

  She shrieked. “In what manner?”

  “In the event you chose to use her as a wet nurse for the babes.” So much for improving their relations. “Given we anticipate twins, she would have produced plenty of milk for our children.”

  For a protracted pause, Alex stammered, choked, and blinked. Then, to his utter dismay, she burst into laughter. Just when it seemed she would calm herself, his confounding wife collapsed into another unrestrained fit of hilarity. In a state of unrest, Jason shifted and rolled his shoulders.

  “Oh, dear.” Pale, she swallowed hard, giggled, and wiped a stray tear. “Do you really believe large breasts equate more milk?”

  Unsure how to respond, he shrugged.

  “Jason Collingwood.” At last, she smiled, and he sighed in relief. “Never have I heard anything so preposterous.”

  “Well, it seemed logical, at the time.” And he had rushed the interview, in his haste to please Alex. “I was only trying to help, as you have been occupied with the new staff and the renovations.”

  “How thoughtful, silly man.” She wiggled her toes, and he teased the soles of her feet with his fingers, eliciting a glorious yelp. “Whatever am I to do with you?”

  “Why, whatever you wish, my lady wife. So is it safe to presume my innocent, if incorrect, assumption incited your anger?” Now he stroked her shapely calves. “Did you truly believe I intended to avail myself of Miss Goodbody’s...body?”

  “Yes.” The poor darling appeared so remorseful he could not summon a rebuke. “I am ashamed to admit I did, but in my defense, that is customary behavior for men of the ton.”

  “My dear, I wish—very much—that you had voiced your objection to Miss Goodbody before weaving unsustainable conclusions from whole cloth. You could have spared us needless suffering.” Of course, Jason recalled the difficulties surrounding their marriage, and her supposition was not unreasonable. “And while I am familiar with the shenanigans characteristic of so-called noblemen, I must again stress the fact that I am a simple sailor. In front of your brother and Mr. Catchpole, I vowed to keep myself only unto you, and I meant it. There will be no mistresses between us, not now, not ever.”

  “Then I owe you an apology.” As Alex adopted a charming pout, he fought the urge to nibble on her delectable little chin. “I see now that you were, in your way, trying to be of use. And it would be nice to have a reliable nanny, but I would hire someone I know, as I will not place our children in the custody of a stranger. I suppose I overreacted.”

  “It is all right. This marriage business is like navigating unfamiliar waters, so we are bound to strike breakers. And I am soon to be a father, something about which I know nothing.” In play, he tapped a finger to the tip of her cute nose and then cupped her cheek. “In future, might I suggest you tell me when I have offended you? It would make life simpler, as I cannot read your mind.”

  “I will do my best.” With a smoldering, sexy stare reminiscent of happier days, Alex turned into his palm and set her lips to his heated flesh.

  Jason went up in smoke.

  How long had it been since they had made love? Judging from his reaction to a kiss that had not involved his mouth, it had been far too long. Without thought, he drew her near, leaned forward, and kissed her.

  And she kissed him.

  When Alex twined her fingers in his hair and held him to her, he groaned, as he had primed for another wicked slap on the cheek. So when she prodded him with her tongue, licked and suckled his, he could have cried like a baby.

  “Jason.” With a breathy sigh, she scored her nails at the nape of his neck.

  “Alex.” How he had missed her.

  Then she flinched and retreated. “Oh, Jason.”

  “Oh, Alex.” He closed the distance.

  “The bowl.” She flicked her fingers. “Hurry.”

  A porcelain dish, bearing painted rosebuds, sat atop the table, and he snatched the delicate container. “You mean this?”

  With nary a word of warning, his wife bent and disgorged the contents of her belly. Well that killed the mood. Had his hedonistic skills deteriorated to the point that the only response he could summon from his bride was a violent round of retching?

  “I am so sorry.” Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead, as Alex again heaved hard.

  “No worries, love.” In that instant, Jason realized she rued the interruption, too. When she teetered, he wrapped his arm about her and offered support, which she accepted with an unmistakable countenance of pure gratitude. And although she had not conveyed such sentiment, he apprehended that she required his assistance. In that moment, everything changed.

  While he had focused exclusively on material expressions of affection, intended to foster marital accord and some semblance of trust, he had ignored his greatest advantage. In short, Alex needed his strength, his comfort—him. How could he have been so blind?

  As she grew weak, she swayed, so he lifted her into his lap, as he balanced the bowl. For a brief second, he thought she might resist his care. Instead, his wife closed her eyes and collapsed against him. “Better?”

  “Yes.” She sighed, as he wiped her brow with his handkerchief.

  “Is this normal, sweetheart?” He tucked a dangling tendril behind her ear. “Does the sickness always last so long, or are there complications?”

  “According to Dr. Handley, it varies. Some women suffer nausea until they give birth. Perhaps you should—oh.” He retrieved the bowl in the nick of time, as she suffered another blow to her constitution.

  “Hush, darling. Do not try to speak.” As she wrenched and convulsed, he held her. “Poor little thing. You have had a terrible go of it.”

  After a few minutes, Alex relaxed in his arms and gasped for air. For a long while, Jason held his bride and marveled when their babes moved in her belly. With each successive motion, something within him stirred. It was a foreign sensation, neither sensual nor companionable, but nonetheless powerful.

  It sparked as a weight in his chest and spread, as comforting warmth, throughout his limbs. Then the odd awareness charged every nerve, and he gave Alex a gentle squeeze. While countless women had ventured into his lap during his naval tenure, none had been his wife, heavy with his heirs. That remarkable fact, alone, made the experience with his bride far more arresting.

  The door opened, and Alex started.

  “Pardon my intrusion.” Gertie halted. “Is her ladyship unwell?”

  “Indeed, and I would appreciate it if you would return the bowl to the kitchen.” Jason cradled Alex’s head. “And would you bring us a ewer of cool water and a clean cloth?”

  “Of course, sir.” Gertie dipped her chin.

  “But I am quite recovered.” His wife shifted.

  “Nonsense, my dear.” He nuzzled her temple. “You are as green as a toad. Allow me to dote upon you, please. I find, to my surprise, I rather fancy this aspect of married life.”

  “You do?” He could not ignore the shock in her tone.

  “Indubitably.” Jason grinned. “It beats arguing. By the by, is it safe to presume you are no longer angry with me?”

  Before Alex could respond, Gertie entered the back parlor.

  “And here is the water, along with a fresh pot of chamomile tea and some dry toast.” After depositing the tray on the table, the housekeeper excused herself.

  Jason wet the cloth and daubed Alex’s face. “How is that, sweetheart?”

  “Pure heaven,” she replied in a bare whisper.

  “And how do you take your tea?” He poured a cup of the steaming brew.

  “Black with one sugar.” She smiled and resituated herself in his embrace. When he held the cup to her lips, she took a sip and hummed in a
ppreciation. “Delicious. And it is much sweeter when you make it.”

  Ah, she flirted with him. “Imagine that.”

  “And in regard to Miss Goodbody, you are forgiven.”

  #

  Alex, I have a surprise for you.

  The man must harbor a death wish.

  Propped against the back of the new sofa in the drawing room, she traced the pattern on the navy damask, as Jason explained why he had again usurped her authority and hired another nanny for their children. As she stared at her feet, which she could view because the standing, bent position that relieved the weight of the babes afforded her a clear vantage, she pondered how many various ways she could kill her husband and escape justice.

  There was the ancient halberd in his study. The nasty battle-ax would, no doubt, split his thick skull with incomparable ease. Perhaps then Jason would learn not to meddle in the employment of servants, given that was her charge.

  “Are you ill, sweetheart?” The polished toes of his top boots presented a tempting target, as he ventured within striking distance. “Shall I fetch a basin?”

  “No.” Damn fool man. He would do better to don the ancient suit of chain-mail armor that occupied a prominent corner of the foyer and served as primary dust collector for the household. As she stretched upright, she rubbed the small of her back. “Give me a minute to digest your latest development.”

  “Now do not be angry—”

  “I am not angry,” she snapped.

  “Evidence to the contrary.” Jason snickered, and she met his gaze. “Keep an open mind, darling. I promise, you will love this candidate.”

  Keep an open mind? Had she done any less since his last disastrous turn at chatelaine? Had she not been magnanimous, accepted his amends, along with his tempting kisses? Oh, why had her husband been so damned agreeable? It would have been much easier to remain vexed with an ill-tempered grouch or an insufferable boor.

  No, she had married a blonde Adonis in skintight breeches, which left little to the imagination, and her naughty thoughts had run amok. How could she defend herself against his licentious advances when she could not align her mind and body in a common cause?

  “Come with me, love.” Jason took her hand in his. “Let us not dally.”

  “Your new charge can wait till hell freezes, for all I care.” Alex dragged her feet.

  “Are you going to form an opinion before you even meet the poor woman?” Her errant husband chuckled and gave her a gentle nudge. “Let us away, my lady wife.”

  “I require no such formalities to know she will not suit.” As he steered her into the hall, she mustered a mighty scowl. “I still recall your last hire.”

  “You wound me, Alex.” He cast her an inexpressibly disarming pout, and her knees buckled. “Have you so little faith in me?”

  “It is not a question of faith. The truth is I know you too well.” She snorted. “Let me guess, this one is a redhead.”

  “Now I resent that, Alex.” Now he laughed. “Really, I do.”

  “I fret not for your feelings.” How could he betray her, after she had invested the minutest amount of trust in him?

  “You are going to regret that, when you meet her.” The door to his study fast approached, as he relented not.

  “I doubt it.” She wrenched hard, yet he gave her no quarter. “Jason Marston George Collingwood, she had better not be another local beauty, or so help me—”

  “So help me—what?” He stopped dead in his tracks and cornered Alex against the wall. “Ah, I love it when you employ that governessy tone, and I savor this side of you, as you are rather feisty when jealous. I find you quite arousing.”

  “You do?” Then she shook her head. “That is to say, I am not jealous.” How pathetic and interested she sounded.

  “Are you sure?” With the devil in his visage, her shameless captain grinned and slipped his finger, in an illicit rhythm, into her cleavage. “Do you remember the afternoon you brought me to completion with your breasts?”

  “Yes.” She swallowed hard, as delicious memories revisited her in staccato flashes. “How could I forget?”

  “I treasure that reminiscence, as it saw me through my lengthy mission.” Jason bent his head and trailed his tongue across her lips. “And I feared I might go mad from wanting you.”

  “Yet you rejected me.” Alex had uttered the assertion before she realized she had spoken, and that elementary statement brought his licentious behavior to a halt, much to her disappointment. But for the first time in her marriage, she wished she could rescind her declaration.

  “You have not forgiven me, and I cannot blame you.” Her captain rubbed his nose to hers. “But allow me a measure of acknowledgement, as I am trying to restore your good opinion. Will you do that, for me?”

  How earnest he appeared, as she mulled his request. Despite the fear nipping at her heels, Alex decided, then and there, that she needed to believe in her husband. And she required his heart, to survive. So she found herself perched on the banks of another Rubicon. On her last outing, she had drowned in a sea of rejection. If he failed her again, he would kill her.

  “All right. I will not fight you.” In that second, Jason rewarded her with a breathtaking smile. “But I would prefer you consult with me on employment matters, as I am chatelaine of Stratfield.”

  “Alex, you may have whatever you wish, as you have made me very happy.” And then he bestowed upon her a searing kiss, which left her dizzy. “Now, for your surprise, which I vow shall please you.”

  With that, Jason opened the door to the back parlor, as she smoothed her skirts. When she glanced at the candidate for nursemaid, Alex was...elated. “Molly.”

  CAPTAIN OF HER HEART

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I arrived yesterday afternoon.” Molly poured two cups of tea. “Cap’n installed me below stairs and bade me keep out of sight, until he could surprise you, this morning. I hope you are pleased.”

  “Dear friend, I am overjoyed, but I had no idea you wished to be a nanny.” After fluffing a pillow, Alex reclined on the chaise in the back parlor. “I thought you intended to continue in service as a charwoman.”

  “Well, that was my original plan.” The onetime housemaid averted her gaze and picked at her sleeve. “I had hoped Mr. Penniman and I would take employment in a grand household and work for a single family, for the remains of our days.”

  “And what of Mr. Penniman?” A pang of guilt settled on her shoulders, as Alex recalled her advice doomed her friend. “You had renewed your acquaintance prior to my departure from Plymouth. Did you never resolve your differences?”

  “We spent some lovely Sunday evenings, just talking.” With a wistful expression, Molly emitted something between a sob and a sigh. “But he wanted the girl he once knew, the Molly who existed before I met you. And I find it impossible to revert to that person, as you changed me.”

  “What have I done?” Not only had Alex ruined her life, but also she had wrecked Molly’s future. “I was wrong to meddle in your affairs, as you were content with your situation, until I spoiled it.”

  “No. You are mistaken, as you were right about me.” With tear-filled eyes, Molly smiled and shrugged. “I was too naïve and trusting, and I had no confidence. But I like the way I am now. Yes, it cost me Mr. Penniman, but I have hope that I might enjoy a marriage with a strong man who adores me, as Cap’n does you.”

  “Do not emulate me, as I am a poor role model.” Alex offered her handkerchief. “Your nose is running.”

  “Thank you.” After a healthy blare, Molly giggled. “Captain Collingwood is a prime catch. And when I think of what you did to land him, well, I do so admire your courage.”

  “Your admiration is seriously misplaced.” If only she could travel back in time and undo her actions. She would not have ventured to Plymouth. She would not have seduced Jason. But then she would have no babes growing in her belly, and that she would never regret.

  “Now why do you blush?” Molly chuc
kled. “I wish I had your courage, given what you enjoy. Cap’n loves you just as you are, else why would he have married you?”

  Because he got me with child, and my brother would have killed him, otherwise.

  “Jason required a chatelaine to manage his properties, and we are compatible.” As she summarized the truth of her relationship with her husband, her heart fractured, and Alex wanted to cry. “And my family’s connections are impeccable.”

  “And now you have a blessed event to anticipate.” Molly squeezed Alex’s fingers. “You have it all, brave Alex. A perfect existence. What more could anyone want?”

  “Indeed, I am very fortunate.” She could have swallowed her tongue. “Molly, I must ask you never to speak of what happened in Plymouth. What I did—”

  “My lady, I would never do so.” The former charwoman compressed her lips. “You may rely on me, as your faithful confidant and servant. And when the babes arrive, I will guard them with my life.”

  “Then it appears I have a nanny, for as long as you wish to fill the position, dear friend.” And Alex was grateful for the support, as she cherished Molly’s companionship. “So are you comfortable in your quarters?”

  “Yes, indeed.” Bouncing in her seat, Molly nodded with unabashed enthusiasm. “Miss Phipps gave me a lovely room just off the kitchen. This morning, I woke to the aroma of fresh-baked scones.”

  “Then perhaps you might assist me in decorating the nursery, given the designer arrives today.” Alex checked items on her imaginary to-do list, a habit crucial to her ruthless organization. “And we should assess the room next door, as it adjoins the nursery, and I would prefer you reside there, once the children are born.”

  “Of course.” The nanny inclined her head. “I am at your disposal, and—”

  A knock at the door interrupted Molly, and Miss Phipps entered the back parlor. “Excuse me, your ladyship. A gentleman has arrived about a position.”

  “That must be the designer.” Alex tapped a finger to her chin and then scooted to the edge of the chaise. “Show him to the drawing room, and I shall be right there. Molly, please refresh the tray, and join us, as I would appreciate your opinion regarding fabrics and paint colors.”