With This Kiss: A First-In Series Romance Collection

by Kerrigan Byrne

  “Having fun?”

  Corisande froze, unable to see Donovan for the hair covering her flushed face. “Yes, actually, I am,” she said with less embarrassment than she might have imagined, although she did feel a mite ridiculous being caught crawling about on her hands and knees. She tossed back her head to get the hair out of her eyes, her gaze meeting Donovan’s.

  He was smiling at her from the ladder, a warm, easy smile that made her heart jump.

  She hadn’t seen him smile in so long—which immediately made her suspicious. Then again, it made sense, considering last night he had said he wanted a truce, even apologizing to her, and of course she knew why he’d done that. God forbid that he threaten his inheritance…

  “I was just coming in to see the Robbertses’ new babe. A girl, Morton told me.”

  “Yes, she’s beautiful.” Corisande held on to the crib as she rose into a hunched position, careful lest she knock her head on the low timber beams. At once little Morton held out his arms to her, demanding, “Out! Out!”

  “Here, give him to me.”

  Corisande obliged, wincing at the soreness of her body as she picked up the little boy and handed him to Donovan, who then disappeared down the ladder. She followed suit with Jimmie, glad that Donovan reappeared to take this child too. Then it was her turn, her legs so wooden that she feared she might fall as she swung out onto the ladder until she felt Donovan’s strong hands encircle her waist to lift her down. Her face burning, she said nothing, relieved when her feet touched the packed dirt floor and he released her.

  “Th-thank you. I’m rather stiff this morning—”

  “I’m not surprised,” he broke in, the smile still upon his face although now it didn’t quite reach his dark eyes. “After you being thrown from a horse, of course. And helping a babe into the world can be no easy thing.”

  Corisande didn’t reply, suddenly feeling quite uncomfortable as her gaze shifted to where Morton already sat beside his wife, their two young sons clamoring to see their new sister. Morton and Peggy looked uncomfortable, too, the deception behind last night obviously at that moment lying heavily upon them—which made Corisande decide that she and Donovan would not be staying long. Leading the way into the little bedroom, she quickly stepped aside so Donovan could approach the bed.

  “She is beautiful,” he murmured when Peggy held the mewling child out to him and he settled the babe into the crook of his arm.

  Again Corisande was struck as she had been days ago at the poorhouse by the incongruous sight: as big and powerful-looking a man as Donovan Trent holding a tiny infant who had begun to cry piteously from almost the moment she left her mother’s arms. Instead of becoming nonplussed, he began to jounce the baby gently. A tender smile appeared on his handsome face that tugged like a pain at Corisande’s heart, making her wonder how things might be if Donovan were more like the man he appeared, right now, to be…

  “Have you named her yet?”

  “Corie Olivia, milord.” Morton coughed to clear his throat. “After Lady Donovan, of course, for coming to help us an’…an’ after my wife’s mother.”

  Donovan nodded and handed the baby back to Peggy without saying more.

  Corisande grew nervous at the awkward silence that had suddenly settled over the room but for the two little boys playing on the floor. “I—I think we should go. But if you need anything, Peggy, anything at all, you’ve only to send Morton to let me know.”

  “That I will, Corie, an’ thank ‘ee again.”

  Corisande scarcely heard her; she’d already left the bedroom and gone to grab her cloak from a peg near the hearth. She didn’t bother to put it on as the bright sunlight streaming inside the front door told her the day was warm. She ducked outside gratefully—for heaven’s sake, what had come over her in there?—while Donovan followed hard on her heels.

  “Funny, you don’t seem very stiff anymore, wife. Helping with Corie Olivia must not have been so difficult for you after all.”

  Donovan wasn’t surprised that Corisande had spun to gape at him, his sarcastic tone hardly what he had intended. But he was angry, dammit, furious!

  He had told himself a hundred times while coming to fetch her that he would be able to contend with the ruse, the lies. That what Corisande had done last night was her own business! Now he felt like grabbing her and shaking her hard.

  He’d already come close when he’d seen the trouble she was having on the ladder. Good God, he’d be sore, too, if he’d done half of what he had seen her accomplish on that beach last night.

  Corisande had probably given no heed to the danger she faced if any customs officers had been on the prowl. Probably given little thought, either, to the brutal attack only an hour before, when she should have been indoors and safe.

  And that was the whole bloody problem! When was the damned woman going to think of herself before putting everyone else first?

  “I’ll get the horses.”

  He brushed past her, knowing she was staring after him and no doubt wondering what had brought on his latest foul mood.

  Let her think what she would. Hell and damnation, what could be worse than what she thought of him already? A heartless cad, a despoiler of innocent women, a gambler, a murderer? That made it all the more ridiculous he should be so concerned about her, but he was, God help him, he was. More than he could have ever thought possible.

  “Bloody fool,” Donovan muttered to himself as he untethered Samson and then went to Pete, who nudged him with a velvety nose. He’d found the animal still saddled and grazing free some hundred yards away; Corisande obviously had been so frightened after she’d been followed back to the cottage that she hadn’t thought to see to the horse.

  Donovan had wanted to frighten her, so badly that she wouldn’t dare set foot outside again until he came for her. He’d almost believed her clever story about the Robbertses, probably would have, too, if he hadn’t overheard everything from outside the door.

  Chasing her from that cove was the least she deserved for lying to him, although the babe coming after all had been a surprise. When he’d set out after Corisande last night, no idea where she was bound, only to discover incredibly that she was involved in smuggling—

  “I can manage from here, thank you very much!”

  As she snatched Pete’s reins from his hand, Donovan watched grimly as Corisande hoisted herself onto the big gelding, grimacing in discomfort.

  “I could have helped you, Corie.”

  “I don’t need your help,” she snapped as she veered the horse around. “As for your sarcasm, my lord, though I’ve no idea what you were implying, it’s clear that the truce you spoke of last night was very short-lived. I’ll see you back at the house.”

  She kicked Pete into a gallop and was gone, leaving Donovan to mount Samson with a low curse and ride after her. He didn’t have to push his stallion very hard; Corisande had slowed Pete to a walk within moments, which didn’t surprise him, given how she’d winced in pain just in mounting. He caught up with her easily, but she didn’t look at him, lifting her chin and keeping her face forward as if he weren’t even there.

  “I wasn’t implying anything, Corie. I’m sorry,” he said, having no intention of revealing that he knew about her smuggling. Why upset her further? He would only be a part of her life for a short time longer, and he’d do bloody well to remember that fact. “And the truce—”

  “The devil take your truce, Donovan! Act however you wish, pleasant, unpleasant, it makes no difference to me. If you’re worried about your money, don’t be. I’m not going to threaten our agreement just because you’re absolutely the most insufferable man I’ve ever known.”

  “Ah, I’m insufferable now? Well, at least you didn’t say loathsome. I never liked being called loathsome.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Corisande glanced at Donovan, astonished at the wry smile on his face.

  Lord, she would never understand the man! One moment sarcastic, the next apologizing,
the next making jokes and smiling. Yet she didn’t want to understand him. She wished she wasn’t riding with him either. If she wasn’t so bloody sore, she could have made it to the house without having to say another word…

  “Corie Olivia Robberts. You must be honored.”

  “I am,” she said stiffly, facing front again.

  “At least it’s something interesting to write about—to your friend Lindsay, I mean. A letter came from her just as I was about to leave this morning—”

  “A letter from Lindsay?” Corisande had drawn up sharply on the reins, coming to a halt as Donovan reined in Samson too. He reached into his dark blue riding coat and drew out the letter, a black brow raised as he handed it to her.

  “Addressed to Lady Donovan Trent, no less. News travels fast.”

  “She…she must have seen the wedding announcement in the papers.” Not liking that she was feeling quite uncomfortable again, Corisande clutched the thick packet in her hand. “I’m sure Lady Somerset wasted little time in writing to her. The woman has a nose for what’s happening in the parish nearly as keen as Rose Polkinghorne’s.”

  “Yes, a letter came from Lady Somerset too. An invitation to dinner, actually, which I accepted. I’m surprised she gave us this long—unless, of course, you’ve other plans for tonight? Someone else with a pregnant wife coming to throw stones at your window?”

  “No, no other plans,” Corisande murmured, not liking the way Donovan was looking at her. Grateful that the Robbertses’ baby had come—it would have been impossible to try to explain a false alarm to him—she glanced down at the letter, her fingers itching to break the rose-red seal. She nudged Pete back into a walk instead, deciding it would be better to wait until she was alone. God knows what Lindsay had to say, considering she knew everything—

  “Aren’t you going to read it?”

  Corisande started, flushing to the roots of her hair as Donovan caught up with her, Samson matching Pete’s slow stride. “No, I think I’ll wait—”

  “Not on my account, I hope. I won’t look, if that’s what concerns you, Corie. There isn’t anything new about London that Lindsay could tell me anyway. Go on, enjoy your letter.”

  She gulped, but her curiosity was overwhelming.

  Perhaps Lindsay had more funny stories for her. She could use some levity right now. Anything to take her mind off the man who was dogging her like a shadow just as he’d promised last night.

  If not for that reason, she might have suggested he ride on ahead, but that was as likely to happen as Napoleon to surrender. She broke the seal and opened the letter, the sunshine so bright that she tilted the cream-colored paper to one side, away from Donovan, and began to read.

  Oh, Corie, where to start? I received your incredible letter, and I could hardly believe it! To think you’re married! And to a Trent of Arundale! Of course, I know you said it’s only temporary, but I must tell you of the most startling things—

  “How is she?”

  Corisande started, looking up to find Donovan staring at her. “Who?”

  “Lindsay, of course. She’s well?”

  “Yes, yes, but I haven’t read very far,” Corisande said with exasperation, clearly enough that Donovan waved her back to her letter, which irked her. She didn’t need his permission! Taking care to grip the reins tightly enough so Pete wouldn’t begin to wander aimlessly, she settled back with an irritated exhalation to her letter…

  …but I must tell you of the most startling things. I had already written you a letter in answer to the one with your astounding news, but I was so busy—Aunt Winnie hasn’t given me a moment’s peace, she’s so determined to follow Olympia’s every last instruction to the letter, dragging me to dressmakers and out shopping and then in the evenings—oh, dear, Corie, I’m losing my train of thought. Anyway, I had no chance to mail my first letter, which was a very good thing. All I knew of Lord Donovan Trent was what you told me in your letter, and of course, since it was a secret, I couldn’t ask anyone about the dratted man. At least I thought him dratted at the time. But back to the topic. The moment your wedding announcement appeared in the papers—truly, I’ve never heard such a stir! Everyone was talking about it, well, about your husband anyway. I went to a ball that very night, and the entire place was abuzz—

  “Is Lindsay having a good time?”

  Corisande must have jumped, for Pete suddenly pranced to the side, nearly making her lose her seat. This time it was Donovan who caught the reins, and Corisande glared at him as he brought the gelding under control.

  “I thought you wanted me to enjoy my letter!”

  “I do—”

  “Then please don’t interrupt me, Donovan.”

  Especially not now, Corisande thought somewhat nervously as he shrugged his massive shoulders and looked away. Good Lord, if he knew the letter was about him…and where was her place anyway? Oh, yes.

  …went to a ball that very night, and the entire place was abuzz. All the eligible young ladies and their mamas were terribly disappointed to hear that Lord Donovan had wed, and everyone, of course, was wondering about you, Corie, but that wasn’t the most extraordinary thing. Somehow I came upon a conversation between some young gentlemen who knew Lord Donovan well and spoke of him quite fondly. They couldn’t believe he’d wed either, because Lord Donovan had sworn years ago that he would never marry. It seems his parents had a terrible marriage, a dreadful arranged affair—Lord, they painted his father the Duke of Arundale as an absolute monster, and of course we already know that to be true from Arundale’s Kitchen. His poor mother ran off with an Italian count, Corie, can you believe that?

  Anyway, according to these gentlemen, it seems Lord Donovan had defied his father for years in so many ways, disgusted by the man—hating him even—and determined to be anything but like him. He was forever giving away his money to beggars, prostitutes, and countless charities though he would tell his father he’d lost it all to gambling just to get some more he could give away. That made the gentlemen laugh and laugh, Corie, because Lord Donovan had never once been known to gamble since his father had loved it so.

  Corisande lifted her eyes from the letter, suddenly feeling quite unsettled as she glanced at Donovan. He wasn’t looking at her, the man leaving her alone just as she’d sharply bid him.

  Her heart beginning to pound, she focused once more on the page, feeling almost as if she didn’t want to continue, but unable not to.

  They went on and on, Corie, recalling how Lord Donovan’s father had tried to force him into a marriage four years ago, but he’d left Britain to fight under Wellington. One of the men, Freddy, they called him, said Lord Donovan had tried to talk him out of marrying for money just before he left and how Freddy wished he’d listened, his life a bloody mess. They laughed, but it wasn’t funny, Corie, all of them wondering what could have made Donovan finally take a bride. Another gentleman guessed it might have something to do with his inheritance, but they couldn’t see Lord Donovan caring a whit about money—he never had before—which made them say then that maybe he had simply fallen in love.

  “She’s written quite a letter, hasn’t she?”

  “What?” Startled, Corisande met Donovan’s eyes, her heart fairly thundering.

  “The letter. It’s long, several pages.”

  “Y-yes, it is long. It’s Lindsay’s first Season—it’s all so new to her. Balls, shopping—”

  “Hunting for the wealthiest gentleman she can find to marry. The loftiest title.”

  Corisande heard the sudden bitterness, something she might have missed before. But now…

  “No, you’re wrong, Lindsay’s not like that at all,” she said vehemently. “Lindsay’s different. She doesn’t care about those things. That’s why I admire her so much.”

  “I’m not surprised. Considering she’s your dearest friend, I mean. I doubt you’d have wasted your time with her if she was anything less than someone you could respect.”

  She heard a tinge of bitterness the
re, too, but Donovan had turned away again, and she quickly returned to Lindsay’s letter. Yet it took her a moment to be able to focus on the page, her thoughts racing.

  Dear God, could she have been so wrong about him? Like a phantom voice, Donovan’s words last night suddenly came back to ring loud and clear in her mind…“You don’t know a damned thing about me!”

  “Oh, Lord,” she murmured under her breath, finding her place to reread Lindsay’s hastily scrawled lines.

  …but they couldn’t see Lord Donovan caring a whit about money—he never had before—which made them say then that maybe he had simply fallen in love. Which is why I had to write a new letter to you, Corie! Lord Donovan doesn’t sound anything like the horrible man you described in your letter, no, not at all! Self-centered? Caring about nothing but himself? It’s as if we’re talking about two different people. To me, Lord Donovan sounds more like the man you said you wanted to marry, remember? When we made our secret pact the day before I left for London? Someone who cares about helping people and righting wrongs? And you have married him! Oh, Corie, I’ve heard he’s terribly handsome and brave and highly respected by his fellow officers, and his friends here wish him the best and you, too, even though they don’t know you. But I know you better than you think I do, and I can just imagine the trouble you’ve been giving him with that temper of yours and all the while thinking the worst of him—

  “We’re nearly home, Corie. Maybe you might want to finish reading later.”

  Corisande glanced up to see that, indeed, the huge Tudor house was appearing through the trees. She had only another few paragraphs of Lindsay’s letter to go, but maybe she’d had enough for now. Her head was spinning, her thoughts in a whirl, and now something was plaguing her terribly, something she’d heard about only a short while ago…

  “Donovan.”

  She had his attention, his eyes upon her, but suddenly she felt as if she had a huge lump in her throat. For heaven’s sake, did she want to know or not? If she’d been struck by a blinding lightning bolt, she couldn’t have been more stunned by everything Lindsay had told her. Did she really want to suffer another shock when deep down she already sensed his answer?