Romancing the Rogue

by Kim Bowman

  “Don't worry,” she said, running her knuckles over the coarse stubble on his cheek. “The worst they can do is demand we marry, and we've already decided to do that anyway.”

  His smile vanished, and he rolled off to the side. “About that.”

  “Yes?” She ignored the way her voice hitched on the word. Surely he wasn't about to insist they wait to get married until he secured a job. Though, it wouldn't surprise her since he was such a serious sort at times. “John?”

  He brought his hand up to idly scratch his cheek. “Do you remember what I did just a minute ago?”

  “Yes. I also remember agreeing to remarry you last night,” she said pointedly.

  “I remember that, too.” He flashed a smile at her. “But I meant, do you remember when I pretended I was trapped?”

  “Yes.” Was he addled? His kisses were drugging, but not that drugging.

  “Right. Well, I might have played a similar trick on someone else,” he said with a slight cough; his face turning an unusual shade of red.

  “What have you done?”

  “I might have played a trick on your—” cough, cough, cough.

  “You what?” she asked, trying not to laugh at the way he was struggling to keep a straight face, despite his body's reaction to his obvious discomfort.

  He took a deep breath; then another. “I told your father that I didn't plan to marry you—”

  “Yes, I do believe I was in the room when you made that pleasant announcement,” she said sarcastically. “I was the one who entered the room as your wife, stood beside you when it was explained that we weren't legally married, then remained frozen in place as you announced to our families you had no intention of making me your wife and left.”

  He knit his brows, twisted his lips, and cocked his head to the side. “That was you?”

  She playfully swatted at his arm. “Yes, and I already know you told my family you wouldn't marry me—” She frowned. “—though I still don't know why. You didn't talk to Edward about your trouble from England until after you'd said that.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “And I also talked to your father privately, later.”

  “And you told him again that you had no intention of marrying me?” she asked, to clarify.

  He nodded. “I want something from him, and he wants something from me.” He came up on his knees and pushed a tendril of her dark hair behind her ear. “No matter what, I intend to marry you, but I don't want him to know that until he agrees to give me what I want.”

  “What is it you want? Employment?” She sorely hoped not. It had been hard enough living in this madhouse for nineteen years. Any longer and she might need to be locked away.

  His rich chuckle brought her from her thoughts. “Do you think my prospects are so dim I'd have to accept work here?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I just didn't know if you'd planned to work here until you hear back from your friend in Boston.”

  “Carolina, I mean this as no offense to you, but there isn't enough gold in England that would make me want to work here another day. The only reason I worked here as long as I did was because of you.”

  She started. “You did?”

  “Yes. I had enough to pay the passage before my sunburn.”

  “You'd planned to marry me even then?”

  “No,” he corrected. “I didn't plan to marry you. I just—” His cheeks reddened. “—I wasn't quite ready to leave yet.”

  “I knew it, you rascal. I knew you felt the same way I did the night we met.”

  He tipped one shoulder up. “I don't know if I'd go that far. But you seem to think my eyes were speaking to you that night, so I can't deny it completely.” He straightened. “But regardless of how I felt for you then, I do love you now, and I plan to make you my wife as soon as I can. But I need your help.”

  “You mean you need me to pretend we haven't decided to marry,” she said flatly.

  “Exactly. Just until I get what I want.”

  “And is this how a future Man of God should be acting? Playing tricks and being deceptive?”

  “Ah, but you forget, we don't even know if I will be a Man of God or a coal miner.”

  “Nobody will get hurt by this, will they?”

  “No.”

  “Well...” She tilted her head to the side and tapped her index finger against her cheek. “If nobody will be hurt by it, and it's for the greater good—” She queried him with her eyes, waiting for him to nod. “—then I suppose I'll play along.”

  “Good. I thought with your flare for dramatics you'd enjoy this.”

  He was right, of course. As long as nobody would get hurt by his scheme, she saw no reason not to join him.

  He dressed and went to the window. “How did you get down from here the night I came to your window?” he asked, poking his head outside.

  “I climbed down the tree that's in front of the other window.” She pulled on her stockings and slipped her feet into her shoes. “Why?”

  “I don't think it's wise we go down to breakfast together.”

  “So you'd planned to avoid that by jumping out the window?” she asked flatly. When he nodded, she laughed. “And you thought I had a flare for dramatics. You can just take the backstairs down to the kitchen and then wait there a few minutes before joining us for breakfast.” She finished dressing then stepped into the hall and motioned for John to join her when she saw that it was clear. “Go through that door and go slowly down the stairs; they're steep.”

  John placed a chaste kiss on her temple and then walked very carefully to the door she'd indicated.

  Carolina took a deep breath and made her way to the dining room, hoping it was still too early for anyone else to be up yet.

  No such luck.

  Gabriel and Father were already seated at the table, and the thunderous footfalls of a four-year-old descending the stairs echoed throughout the house.

  “I see we'll all have a pleasant breakfast together,” Mother said a moment later, gliding into the room just as Carolina was taking her seat.

  “Not quite all of us,” Father said with a pointed look at the empty chair beside Carolina.

  Carolina shifted in her seat. Father was clearly unhappy and likely it was because of whatever John had asked him for. “I'm sure he'll be along soon.”

  “He'd better be. We have things to discuss,” Mother said, placing her napkin in her lap.

  Just then, to Carolina's great relief, John walked in and wordlessly took the vacant seat Carolina had saved him.

  “Where have you been, Uncle John?” Alex asked before anyone else could.

  “Taking care of things I hope you never have to worry about,” he told the boy.

  “Well, I hope he does,” Edward said, frowning. “I would like to have grandchildren one day.”

  Beside him, his wife nudged him and John shook his head. “You'll have to excuse Edward. He often speaks first and thinks second.”

  “Then he and Lina shall get along quite well,” Gabriel teased.

  John shook his head again, slower and with a hint of sadness on his face this time. “I don't know...” he said without much emotion, staring at Gabriel who winked then turned back to his breakfast.

  Carolina's heart skipped a beat. Gabriel knew what John was doing, and he seemed to be willing to playact with them.

  “They may not spend much time together,” John continued with a casual shrug. “There will be an ocean dividing them, after all.”

  Father's dark eyes locked with John's, a silent message passing from one to the other. All movement and noise in the room evaporated, giving way to amazement at the intensity in John's blue and Father's gray eyes. Neither man seeming to back down. Thank goodness John wasn't fibbing about the ocean separating her and Edward, or he'd give himself away with one of those coughing fits he was prone to have when he was found out.

  The silent tension filling the air made it too thick to so much as breathe. Even little Alex seemed transfixed
on the stare-down going on between John and Father.

  A muscle in Father's cheek ticked, and Carolina was sure she'd find John's hands clenched into fists in his lap if she could tear her gaze away long enough to look. But she couldn't. Like everyone else in the room, she didn't want to miss a second of what she might forever remember as the true final battle of the Revolutionary War.

  “Whatever it is the man wants, just give it to him, Calvin,” Mrs. Ellis snapped, only adding to the tension.

  “Is that what you want, Hazel?” Father asked, his eyes not leaving John's.

  “Yes,” she said. “Lina and I have a wedding to plan.”

  Carolina twisted her lips and fought the urge to look down at the end of the table to confirm that was her mother speaking with that nauseating, sweeter-than-sugar tone and not a being from another planet that had taken over her body.

  “All right, John, you win” Father said slowly. “I'll free Bethel the day you marry Carolina.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Relief coursed though John and all the constricting tension drained from his body. To swiftly be replaced by two arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close.

  “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Carolina cried, scattering kisses on his cheeks. Only a few short weeks ago, he'd have cringed at her unbelievably bold behavior, but now he welcomed it. Partially, because it drowned out Mrs. Ellis’ shrill protests about freeing Bethel; but mostly, because he'd come to love this woman more than anyone, and her happiness was what he valued above all else.

  From the corner of his eye, John caught sight of Edward whose eyes were shimmering with amusement and shoulders shaking with mirth. John shook his head. Edward had once predicted he'd marry a woman as spirited as Carolina — and like it. There was no use in denying it, that's exactly what he'd done, but he didn't like it. He loved it.

  “Don't be thanking him yet,” her mother said. “He hasn't actually married you yet, and until he does, Bethel will continue her duties.”

  “Of course,” Carolina agreed automatically, taking her time about releasing John.

  “Very well, I think we could host the wedding four weeks from this Saturday,” Mrs. Ellis continued, turning to Edward and Regina. “Will that be all right with you?”

  “It won't be all right with me,” John said through clenched teeth.

  “And why not? You do want it to be proper, do you not? She does only get one chance at a wedding, you know.”

  “She may very well be carrying my child already. I won't allow speculation about why she's giving birth not even eight months after we're married.” Not to mention, he didn't think he'd survive four more days without having her again, let alone four more weeks.

  “He's right,” Edward agreed, picking up his fork and stabbing at his eggs. He brought his fork up close to his mouth and looked straight at John and Carolina. “Better to have it believed they married so they could start a family, not married because they'd already started one.”

  John grinned at his brother. He could say whatever he wanted. Carolina was not one to be scandalized. “As Edward so eloquently put it, I wouldn't like Carolina's virtue to be speculated on.”

  “Well, it's not like it's untrue,” her mother argued.

  John reached for Carolina’s hand under the table. “Carolina, what do you want?”

  “You're right, someone will surmise—”

  “Forget I said anything about that. Nobody but us will know the truth unless you tell them when we married,” he cut in, chastising himself for being so careless in what he said and how it might make her feel. “When do you wish to marry?”

  “I—I don't know. As soon as we can?”

  “Is that what you want or are you saying that because you think it's what I want to hear?”

  “What do you think?”

  He chuckled. “Will this Saturday be soon enough?”

  “This Saturday?” Mrs. Ellis shrieked. “That's in four days! That's not enough time to plan a proper wedding and replace Bethel.”

  “It had better be,” John said, eliciting a wide grin from Carolina.

  “But — but — but—” Mrs. Ellis started.

  “Stop your protesting, woman,” Mr. Ellis said with a scowl. “It's not as if we have a lot of guests to invite.”

  Mrs. Ellis moved to protest again, but John had no intention of listening and motioned for Carolina to join him outside.

  “Thank you again, John,” she said, as soon as they were outside; tears filling her eyes.

  He wrapped her in a hug. “I told you I'd find a way to help Bethel.”

  “I know and I never doubted you.”

  That made one of them at least. “I need to leave for Charleston now.”

  “To post your letter?”

  “And find a job.”

  “Do you have an idea of where you'll find one?”

  He poked his bottom lip out in an overdone frown and nodded. “I think so, yes. I plan to ask Mr. Morrison for my old job back.”

  “You want to work for him again? I thought Gabriel said he cheated you?”

  “He did,” John acknowledged, pushing a lock of her silky hair from her eyes. “But I think he did it so I'd be forced to come back to see him, and he could try to talk me into taking a job from him again.”

  “Do you really think that was his reason?”

  John thought back to the day when Mr. Morrison had stuffed his wages into his pocket. “I think so. He'd asked me to stay on, no less than four times, and had never cheated me before. It had to have been on purpose.”

  “That, or fate,” Carolina added, smoothing his lapels. “The Lord does work in mysterious ways, does he not?”

  He dropped a kiss on her forehead. He'd been so wrong in his original assessment of her. She'd make a great vicar's wife. If only he was certain he'd be a vicar. He pulled back. “If I don't come back tonight, then I'll be back by Saturday.”

  She blinked her eyes rapidly and the gesture tore at his heart.

  Pulling her close to him, he whispered. “It'll be all right. Gabriel will be here to make sure nothing happens to her while I'm away. He loves her as much as you do. He'll keep her safe. Now, give me a kiss. I'll be back by Saturday.”

  ~~~~

  “That boy won't be back, and you're about to lose your only chance at a somewhat respectable future,” Mother said, for what had to be the hundredth time since John had left on Tuesday.

  Carolina ignored her and pulled her white lace stocking up. John might not always use the most respectable tactics for accomplishing his goals, but he wasn't the kind who'd make bad on a promise. He'd promised her he'd come back, and he would. She knew he would.

  “You do realize your wedding is to start in an hour, and nobody has heard a word from your groom since he left?” Mother asked, likely just to be annoying.

  Praise the Lord that after today, Carolina wouldn't have to spend another moment alone with her mother. A pang of guilt settled in her chest at how cruel that sounded. But that guilt was quickly extinguished when her mother spoke again.

  “Charlie is already downstairs waiting. I'll go speak to his mother to see if he can stand in as the groom.”

  Carolina whipped around to face this heartless creature she had to claim as her mother. “You have got to be the most selfish, faithless person I've ever met.”

  “No. I am rational. A characteristic you seem to be sorely lacking.”

  Carolina recoiled at her mother's words. “Don't,” she hissed. “I might not be the meek, demure miss you wanted your daughter to become, but I am not the imbecile you believe me to be, either.”

  “Are you sure? It would seem the man to whom you've pledged your love has given me no choice but to believe he won't be coming back for you. Even that lofty lord of a brother of his disappeared with his wife and child, after claiming to have to go on some sort of an adventure.” She twisted her lips in disgust as she said the words. “I had believed that at least he being a baron would mean ther
e was some honor in the family. But frankly, I'm not sure those weren't paid actors.”

  Carolina shook her head as a red haze clouded her vision. Her mother's stupidity didn't even deserve an answer. John would not abandon her. She slid her feet into her slippers and grabbed her parasol, then walked from the room, her mother trailing right behind her.

  “Lina, I am just trying to protect you. I won't have it spread around the countryside that my daughter was abandoned at the altar by some English bounder.”

  “After everything that's happened, you're still trying to push me to marry Charlie,” she said in disbelief.

  “He's a nice boy,” Mother argued.

  Carolina stopped on the stairs and turned to face her mother, then in a low voice said, “Yes, he is exactly that: a boy. I know you and Mrs. Fields would rather live your lives denying it, and I hate to be so cruel as to be the one to point it out, but it's the truth.”

  Mother pinched her lips together. “A boy he may be, but he might be your only choice. So I'd suggest you start speaking better of him.”

  “And I'd suggest you start speaking better of John.”

  “Yes, love?” said the object of her affection as he rounded the corner. “Did you want me for something?”

  “Only to make me your wife,” she said, grinning.

  He returned her grin and extended his hand toward where she was standing on the stairs. “I think I can manage that.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  John couldn't contain the grin splitting his face. But no matter how besotted he must appear, he had no intention of hiding the joy he felt at seeing his bride walk down the aisle toward him, clad in a dark blue, white lace-trimmed gown with tears shining in her eyes.

  He was rewarded most sweetly when a grin took her lips and stayed there throughout their vows.

  “'Lations, Lina,” Charlie said, coming up to them as they made their way to where a long buffet table of food had been set out for the guests.

  Carolina released John's hand and gave Charlie a hug. “Thank you, Charlie.”

  “Congratulations, Lina, Mr. Banks,” Charlie's mother said with a surprisingly congenial smile.