Brethren of the Coast Box Set 2

by Barbara Devlin

  “You have been so helpful.” Alex smoothed her skirts. “We appreciate everything you have done for us, Dr. Studly.”

  “That is my job, your ladyship.” He plopped his hat atop his head and nodded once. “Good day.”

  With a bawdy little ditty playing in her brain, Alex walked to the armoire and set the doors wide. It took all of two seconds to decide on the gown she would wear for dinner. Holding the sumptuous garment to her chest, she turned and scrutinized her appearance in the long mirror.

  To the casual observer, she wanted for nothing. She had two healthy, beautiful babies. She had the elegant manor of which she had dreamed. And Alex had more than she could have fathomed in a spouse—except the one thing she wanted most.

  Her husband’s declaration.

  “Oh, my lady.” Gertie pressed a hand to her throat. “What a lovely dress.”

  “Is it not?” She fitted the bodice to her breasts, as she had lost most of the excess weight from her pregnancy. The lone noticeable change in her figure was her ample bosom. “I wore this gown the night I met Captain Collingwood.”

  “Oh, I say.” The housekeeper snickered. “Cap’n will fall over himself, when he gets a look at you, in that frock.”

  “Indeed, that is the plan.” How she cherished the sweet memory, as she recalled his expression, the raw hunger, when they had locked gazes, so long ago. And she intended to resurrect that yearning—tonight. “Miss Phipps, will you help me?”

  “Of course, your ladyship.” Gertie fetched a matching pair of slippers. “What have you in mind?”

  “Ring for a bath.” Alex plotted her strategy. “Add some of my rosewater, as Jason favors it. And could you arrange my hair, as Molly and Tom are repainting their bedchamber in the cottage, and I would rather not delay their progress.”

  “I should be too delighted to assist you, my lady.” The housekeeper winked. “Shall I air your dress for this evening?”

  “What a marvelous idea.” Sitting at her vanity, Alex gazed at her reflection in the oval mirror and almost cried. As she admired her image, she filled not with vanity or pride but with relief. It was as if she had just returned home from a long voyage and welcomed an old friend.

  Behind her, the massive four-poster loomed not as a specter of doom but of hope for the future she desperately desired but had not permitted herself to covet, since Plymouth. In an instant, she invoked the vision of her husband, his handsome features marred by worry and fear, as he held her while she gave birth. She recalled his tender care, his words of praise, and his unwavering support—and then Jason had moved into a guestroom.

  To her chagrin, he had not returned to their bed.

  So for the next couple of hours, she put her altruistic scheme into action, as she washed, primped, coiffed, and garbed herself with the singular objective of catching her knight.

  “Hold your breath, my lady.” Miss Phipps yanked hard on the laces. “Just a tad more should do it.”

  “Oh, what we do for fashion.” Alex hugged the corner post of the footboard and winced. “This had better work.”

  “There, now.” Retreating a step, Gertie admired the results. “Cap’n will be at your command, my lady.”

  “I pray your are correct in your estimation.” If Jason rejected her now, she knew not how she would react.

  “Arnold will soon ring the dinner bell, so you should join Cap’n.” The housekeeper collected the discarded clothing. “I will tidy the room, set out fresh towels, and turn down the sheets.”

  “Gertie, you are a priceless gem.” Alex had done all she could. The rest was up to Jason.

  And so she charged into the fray but drew up short as she descended the stairs. Summoning her expertise and cataloguing the skills useful in the pursuit of the male species, she halted, squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and inhaled a deep, calming breath. A lady never rushed into a room, as a gust of wind. Rather, she glided as an elegant swan on a still pond.

  Nervous excitement mixed with sweet anticipation bubbled beneath her flesh, as she sailed into the drawing room to await her husband. Standing near the hearth, she laughed, as she pondered the transformation of the timeworn house and grounds into a grand estate.

  “Good evening, my lovely wife.” Gorgeous, in a chocolate brown waistcoat, a navy coat, buckskin breeches, and polished Hessians, with the collar of his shirt opened, sans cravat, Jason smiled. “The dinner bell—”

  The stillness of his frame, the fire in his blue eyes, and the slackening of his jaw attested to the fact that he had noted the significance of her attire.

  “And a very good evening to you, my handsome husband.” Alex lowered her chin, walked straight to her tongue-tied spouse, and splayed her hands to his chest. “How delicious you look. I should just as soon take a bite of you.”

  “What?” He blinked. “Uh—yes, I am fine. Shall we dine?”

  “As you wish.” As they navigated the hall, she squeezed his arm, and his muscles flexed. “I had my final appointment with Dr. Studly, today.”

  “Oh?” At the table, Jason held her chair, and her usual place setting to his left situated her within striking distance. “And what is the estimable physician’s diagnosis?”

  “I am free to continue my duties, as your wife.” She pinned him with her stare, as she licked her lips. “All of them.”

  Just then, Phipps entered the dining room, carrying a large covered dish. “Shall I commence serving, your ladyship?”

  “I will care for my bride, Arnold.” Jason snatched the tongs and a plate. “You are dismissed.”

  “We are having braised beef, with carrots and potatoes, one of your favorite meals.” Alex cast a coy smile at her captain. “Darling, I no longer eat for three.”

  He glanced at the mountainous amount of fare and frowned. But when she rubbed her foot to his calf, he jumped. “Bloody hell. I will take this portion and prepare another for you.”

  “There is no rush, although I am ravenously hungry.” Then she reached under the table and caressed his crotch. “But not for food.”

  A telltale flush crept up his neck and spread, into his cheeks. “I initiated the search for tutors, for our boys.”

  “What?” She offered herself on the proverbial silver platter, and he changed the topic. “Jason, they are babies, and it is too soon to interview tutors.”

  “There is no time like the present.” As he lifted his tankard of ale, his hand shook. “And I want the best of everything for Gerald and Gerard.”

  Over the next hour, her husband detailed his future plans for the twins, and Alex noted a serious deficiency. He made no mention of her. But she remained undaunted, as she clutched his hand and drew flirty circles in his palm. When she signaled for the final course, a decadent cherry compote, which she had intended to feed her uncharacteristically shy spouse while seated in his lap, Jason pushed from the table and stood.

  “I will pass on dessert.” He tossed his napkin on his plate, stretched, and then bent to kiss her forehead. “If you need me, I will be in the study, as I have much work to complete.”

  It took several minutes for Alex to register what had just happened and that she, alone, occupied the dining room. Her husband wanted her, of that she was certain. Yet he had rebuffed her advances. When she leaped from her chair, the floor seemed to pitch and roll beneath her feet, and she swayed.

  “Are you unwell, your ladyship?” Phipps steadied her. “Shall I summon Cap’n?”

  “No.” She smoothed her skirt. “I am fine.”

  Then she turned on a heel and marched into her erstwhile fervent suitor’s private domain. When she stormed into the study, she found Jason at his desk.

  “Alex?” He returned his pen to the inkstand. “Is there something—”

  “Why do you avoid me?” She folded her arms, as she could take no more. “Why do you refuse to share our bed?”

  #

  It was a curious question, for which Jason had no answer.

  Staring at his hands, he clenc
hed his fists to conceal his trembling. What could he tell his wife? Would she laud the fact that her velvet gown reminded him of the blood that had stained the linens, when she birthed their sons? Would she dance a jig, were he to apprise her that nightmares had plagued his slumber, as he had relived her suffering, again and again, since Gerald and Gerard entered the world? Or would Alex mock his fear?

  “I am not avoiding you.” Jason sighed. “I am protecting you.”

  “From what?” With her brow a mass of furrows, she neared. “You make no sense.”

  “I guard you from myself.” Resting his elbows to the blotter, he cradled his head. “As I cannot bear to lose you.”

  “Do you mean that?” his wife inquired, in a small voice.

  “Of course.” Jason lifted his chin and peered at her. “Every night, I see you writhing in agony, and I will not risk another pregnancy, after what you endured with our sons.”

  “But I am recovered, and the process, though painful, is natural.” She rounded the desk, pushed him back in his chair, and slid to his lap. Framing his face, she kissed him. “And I want more children, so your position is unacceptable.”

  “While I am glad you have healed, I may never forget what you braved.” In that instant, he clung to her. “What would I do without my beautiful Alex?”

  Without warning, his wife grabbed his hair, wrenched hard, emitted something between a sob and a sigh, and came at him with the force of a brigade. At first, he tried to resist the temptation she presented, but when his bride shifted and situated her knees to either side of his thighs, he dug through the seemingly endless folds of heavy velvet in search of her bare bottom.

  As their tongues twined, she moaned, and he deuced near shot his seed in his breeches. But when Alex rocked her hips, something inside Jason snapped.

  “I want you.” She bit his lip and ground against his stony erection. “And you want me, so do not dare claim otherwise.”

  “Not here.” He slipped a finger into her bodice and teased a pert nipple. “I would take you in our bed, as I prefer you naked and spread for my delectation, and I would lick every part of you.”

  “Promises, promises.” With a charming giggle, that again brought him to the brink of sweet release, she stood. “I shall retire to our suite, where I will prepare myself for the much anticipated assault and await your company with baited breath. Do not make me linger too long, my naughty sailor.”

  “Madame, I am your most devoted servant.” When she bent and squeezed his Jolly Roger, which had prepared a steely, one-gun salute, he enjoyed a spectacular view of her ample décolletage. “You have twenty minutes.”

  “My dear Captain, I am ready for you.” She trailed her little pink tongue along his jawline, and he clenched his gut. Then she all ran from the study, and he could not help but laugh.

  “Collingwood, you are in trouble.” Dropping his head back, he collapsed in his chair and gazed at the ceiling. Huffing a breath, he peered at the telltale bulge in his crotch and snorted. “This is all your fault, as you are but moulding clay in her hands.”

  After pouring a brandy, Jason walked to the window and studied the night sky. When the mantel clock signaled the hour, he downed the contents of his glass and set it on the desk.

  Candlestick in his grasp, he exited his sanctuary, turned right in the hall, almost skipped through the foyer, and ascended the stairs. Instead of steering straight for the master suite and Alex’s arms, he veered in the opposite direction to check on his sons.

  In the nursery, his heirs slept. As always pride surged in his chest when he looked on his boys and imagined the adventures they would share. With care, he tiptoed—yes, he bloody tiptoed from the chamber.

  At last, he strolled into the sitting room and set the bolt on the doors, as he would brook no interruptions when he made love to his wife. To his surprise, the inner sanctum was dark and quiet.

  Holding the candle high, he was nonplussed to discover the bed empty. A soft sniffle snared his trained ear, and he turned. “Alex, are you there?”

  “Jason, help me.” It was then he noticed the shadowy slumped form on the floor, near the armoire, and a chill of terror shook his frame.

  “What is it, darling?” After depositing the candlestick on her vanity, he knelt at her side and drew her into his arms. “What happened?”

  “The pain is unbearable.” When he lifted her, she whimpered and clung to him as a frightened child. “Send for Dr. Studly, as I am gravely ill.”

  CAPTAIN OF HER HEART

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Alex burned, but hers was not the heat of unchecked passion. She ached, but her discomfit had nothing to do with unfulfilled desire.

  Settled in the impressive four-poster in the master suite, she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth against the excruciating pain in her breasts. Intense fever had reduced her to a violent, shivering mess, but she tried to be brave, even as she sobbed.

  “I dispatched Tom to fetch Dr. Studly.” Jason draped another blanket over her. “How do you feel, love?”

  “I hate to bother him, at this hour, but I feel terrible.” She shook uncontrollably. “And I am frightened.”

  “How can I make it better?” Jason reclined beside her. “Tell me what to do, and I will do it, sweetheart.”

  “I know not. Oh, Jason.” Alex possessed only so much courage, as the damn broke, and she burst into tears.

  “Hold hard, darling.” Counterpane and all, he scooped her into his arms. “You must be strong, as the doctor will be here, any second.”

  “But I am so tired.” She buried her face in his chest and cried. “It hurts.”

  Just then, Dr. Studly entered the chamber. “Captain and Mrs. Collingwood. I understand her ladyship is ill?”

  “Thank you, for coming so soon.” Ashamed of her appearance, she dried her cheeks on the sleeve of her nightgown and explained her symptoms. “I know not what is wrong, Dr. Studly.”

  The physician sat at the edge of the bed and drew down the covers. “Captain Collingwood, if you would wait in—”

  “I am not leaving.” Jason scowled.

  “Why am I not surprised?” The doctor rolled his eyes. “Then if you intend to remain, do not interfere, as I must conduct a thorough examination of her ladyship. Now, show me where your ailment persists.”

  Wincing, Alex cupped her breasts. “Here.”

  “I beg your pardon, my lady, but I must assess your condition.” He pressed his palm to one tender mound and then the other, and she flinched. “Just as I suspected.”

  “What is it, Dr. Studly?” Jason swallowed hard.

  The physician lowered his chin. “My diagnosis is milk fever.”

  “Is it fatal?” Jason clutched her hand.

  “No, Captain.” Dr. Studly compressed his lips and shook his head. “But it can be quite uncomfortable.”

  “Is it treatable?” Never had she experienced anything so horrible.

  “Yes.” The doctor shrugged into his coat and claimed his bag. “Although the remedy resides not in a bottle.”

  “I do not understand.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck and narrowed his stare. “Then how can you cure her?”

  “The treatment is simple but just as unpleasant, if not more so, as the malady.” Snatching his hat from the bedside table, Dr. Studly frowned. “You must nurse, your ladyship.”

  “What?” She gulped, as the mere thought struck terror in her chest.

  “I am aware it does not sound agreeable, given the burning agony, but you must persevere. Feeding the babes will ease the symptoms, and the fever will pass as swiftly as it began.” After pulling on his gloves, Dr. Studly dipped his chin. “I shall take my leave, but I will visit you, in the morning, to monitor your health.”

  “Miss Phipps, show the doctor to the door, and have Molly bring our sons, at once.” To her relief, Jason remained rooted to her side.

  “Yes, Cap’n.” Gertie bowed. “This way, please.”

  “Bloody hell, Alex.” And th
en her captain’s calm façade broke, as he bent and bestowed upon her a kiss that ignited her skin in an altogether more enjoyable fashion. “I thought you were going to die, and I would never have the chance to tell you that I can’t live without you. I would sooner lose my heart, for you are far more precious. And I need you to know how much I love you.”

  “Do you really mean it?” Was it possible? Had she hallucinated his declaration, in her agony? Had she known a miserable illness would have provoked his proclamation, she would have feigned a fever. “Do you love me, as I dearly love you?”

  “Of course, as never have I uttered those words to any woman, because you are my only lady.” He tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “I have loved you from the night we met, in full view of the ton, in the Richmond’s ballroom. You won me, right then and there.”

  “Why did you not state as much?” Thrilled but in immeasurable distress, Alex snuggled close to him. “Have you any idea how much torment you might have spared us, had you only said so?”

  “To my undying shame, I lacked the courage to apprise you of the truth, and I assumed you knew, to some extent, as I purchased this property for the expressed purpose of providing a home for our family.” Jason wrinkled his nose and then grinned. “I even wrote your friends for advice. But the flowers, rosewater baths, and poetry were my ideas.”

  She giggled, and searing pain had her gasping. “I believe I knew your poetry was an original production, and I treasure it, so you must compose more.”

  Molly and Miss Phipps arrived, each bearing a babe.

  “I apologize for the delay, but Gerard had soiled himself, so I had to change his towel.” With an expression of sympathy, the nanny laid the youngest boy at Alex’s left.

  Jason fluffed the pillows and unbuttoned the front of her nightgown. “Shall I situate Gerald to your right?”

  “Yes.” When Alex sat upright, the discomfort increased twofold, and she doubled over and moaned.