“That makes no sense,” Reed said, his voice gruff, perhaps uncomfortable at having revealed so much, but Chastity wanted him to be comfortable telling her anything.
“I think she meant that my mother might have wanted to keep me, but she knew the sisters could take better care of me. At least I choose to think she meant that.”
“You probably ate well, wore warm clothes, and slept inside the house. I do not imagine you worked ‘till you dropped or were beaten regularly.” He sighed. “I’m not looking for pity, but I want you to understand why I need to know who I am. It’s as if ... I cannot be whole, until I know.” Clearly embarrassed, he regarded the boys in the water.
Chastity touched his cheek to regain his attention. “I always wondered about the woman who left me on a convent doorstep. Why not keep me? Was I wicked?”
“Wicked? You? Are you serious?” He examined her expression. “Good Lord, you are. A sheltering swan with the hatchlings of another safe beneath her wings, wicked? Unwanted? Ask those children. They damn near refused to eat the best, ah, they loved you too much to enjoy—”
Chastity shrugged.
“Tears?” Reed said aghast, because you’re worried about being wicked, something so far from possible, it’s laughable, and I would laugh, except for the look of you. You’re the best woman I have come upon in my entire misguided life. You could no more be wicked than I could be a saint. Good, a smile.”
“I’m crying because I’m such a bad cook.”
Reed’s laughter lit his countenance, making him more handsome than any man had a right to be.
Chastity probed his dimple and stroked his lips. He licked her wandering finger and she snatched it back. Then his mouth came for hers, and her breasts tingled as she moved closer.
What sweet heaven, to lie in Reed’s arms and be held, body to body, heart to heart, heat purling inside her like a swirl of sun-kissed wind on a summer day ... until the children’s shouts penetrated her euphoria.
Reed threw her off and ran.
The boys, all three, stood lined on the bank gazing into the pond, frozen in place.
Chastity made to protect Bekah ... and saw the blanket was empty.
Before she could command her legs to move, the boys separated, making way for Reed, wet, trembling, carrying Bekah.
Chastity’s tears spilled over as she ran.
Reed’s palpable fear clutched at her heart as he stopped, offering a limp, unmoving baby girl.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Seeing their sweet girl, pale and still, pulled a sob from Chastity, and a strangled echo from Reed.
Bekah opened her eyes.
Chastity sobbed again, in relief and gratitude, and opened her arms, but Bekah reached for Reed, instead, and closed her shivering arms about his neck. “Weed,” she said, clear and sharp, and thrice as earth shattering as a thunderbolt from heaven.
Reed kissed her brow then cupped her tiny head and held his cheek to hers—water, or tears, on his face. “You’re safe,” he whispered, as if sand abraded his voice. “You’re safe, Poppet.”
Trembling of a sudden from more than fright, Chastity wondered which of them would be more hurt by the breaking of that promise, the man giving it, or the child he’d already vowed to leave?
And who was she to judge? Chastity thought. Her actions were less honorable than Reed’s promises. She had been so wrapped up in him, she had not noticed when Bekah woke.
As if he sensed her anguish, Reed placed an arm around her, released his breath, and touched his brow to hers. “I have never been so frightened in my life.”
Bekah kissed Chastity’s cheek.
The boys stood frozen yet. Chastity beckoned to them with an open arm, and they came, all three, completing the circle, forging a bond of sorts, among the six—like a family, heaven help them.
That night, Reed tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the thunder in the distance, his heart full after the extraordinary day: Mr. Sennett’s ill-timed arrival. The mock-betrothal. Bekah’s laughter. Balloon rides.
Reed shivered as he pictured Bekah floundering, going under, and not coming up, then he remembered the first sound of her voice, and he grinned like a fool at his name on her lips. If he believed in miracles, he would dub the entire day a miracle of outstanding proportions.
Through it all, he learned something about himself that frightened the devil out of him. He cared about Chastity and the children. He had been so cleverly seduced into it, he did not know when caring struck.
In actuality, he supposed nothing had changed, except that it would be more difficult to leave when the time came, which it would, soon. It grew closer every day.
He hated that Chastity blamed herself for Bekah falling into the pond. He thought he’d talked her out of it, until her corruption came up, again, after they’d put the children to bed, while he filled the tub.
“I told you I was wicked,” she had said, looking and sounding guilty, needing to be talked out of it, once more.
“Wicked people are dishonest,” he said.
“I lied about being a nun. Lying about something as pure and noble as religious life must be the lowest form of dishonesty. And let us not forget my stealing the children. Stealing is dishonest, and you cannot tell me different. I am not stupid, you know.”
“You were saving them.”
She ignored him. “And there is Mr. Sennett’s—” She’d stopped, shocked at her words.
There was something he did not know, which frustrated him, because she would certainly consider it worse than in truth. “Wicked women care only for themselves, Chastity. Look what you’re doing for the children, giving them a home, keeping them safe, warm, well fed.”
“Who was I caring for when Bekah woke and wandered off? I nearly let her drown, Reed.”
“Wait a minute. If fault must be placed, then it is ours to share.” He held up a staying hand. “No arguments, I am right, and you know it.”
“But you said that my reason for taking the children was to get love for myself. Now that is selfish.”
Reed slammed the empty pot on the stove, furious with himself for fueling her self-blame. The sound of her weeping shocked him then, for she had not broken beneath more difficult circumstances.
He marched over and stood her to face him. “Listen to me. You think you’re wicked in the same way I fear that I made my parents want to give me away.
“You were only a baby,” she said.
“As were you,” he countered. “Your mother leaving you does not mean that you must be wicked.”
“I have proof.”
“What proof?”
“I just told you. Lying, stealing, selfishness.” She ticked them off on her fingers.
“Chastity that only makes you human. Humans are selfish. They lie, cheat, and steal, on occasion. Now, I’m not up on your Deity or anything, but does it not say somewhere that He forgives, especially if we try to do better?”
Her smile revealed relief, and it brought his smile.
“Do you think we would have been brought to this place and time, together?” she asked, “without our unfortunate beginnings?”
“I cannot see how. You were right, you know, when you said we had all been abandoned, even Sunnyledge, and now we’re together.”
She sighed. “Sometimes I believe this was all meant to be.”
Sometimes he, too, thought he belonged with them, but those times were rare, and frightening. More often than not, standing apart seemed his lot. But Rebekah speaking, today, saying his name, changed that. She’d ... humbled him. He had not been sure if he should cling to her, or run fast and far. “She called me Weed,” he said on a chuckle. “An appropriate name. A rogue plant, the one not belonging, the one best plucked so as not to taint the rest. My old man sure wanted to pluck me from their midst.”
“I don’t want to pluck you,” Chastity said. “I’d like to plant you and see if you take.”
That’s where their discussion had ended. To go on w
ould have been painful for them both. “Take your bath,” he had said. “The water’s getting cold.” Then he kissed her brow and left.
That had been hours ago. It must be nearly one in the morning, now. He would have to do some serious searching tomorrow. With only a few weeks left until one of them got Sunnyledge, he had started to worry ... that he would find his proof.
He mocked himself with a chuckle, rolled over, and closed his eyes, but the storm outside his window did nothing to calm him. He wondered if it kept Chastity awake. He could not seem to calm either storm, neither the one outside, nor in.
Chastity threw off her blankets, rose to light a candle, and sat at her desk to pen a letter.
Dear Mother Caritas, I have much to say. Pray be patient with my questions and forgive my previous lack of communication.
First and foremost, I am more sorry than you can imagine to have to tell you that William lost his life during our voyage from France. I miss him daily.
You told me, Mother, that he would explain everything I needed to know about our journey, about life and love. He never had the chance. I know he took ship in response to that mysterious letter, because he felt he must correct an injustice. Please, if you know anything about the nature of that injustice, the future of others may depend upon my knowledge.
Of life and love, not enough paper exists for all my questions. Suffice it to say that I have found a man to love, though not in the same way I loved William—as a dear friend or brother. This love is all-consuming and frightening. Mother, does love acquit abandon? I am losing a part of myself to him, but I cannot seem to stop, nor do I want to. This concerns me.
I will leave you with happy news. Do you remember how often I suggested we open a home for children at the Abbey? Well, I am doing so, here, in a manor called Sunnyledge. I have four children at this time, three boys and a girl. They are among those whose lives depend upon your response. Write soon. Pray for us.
I remain, respectfully yours, Chastity Somers.
Chastity snuffed her candle, the rain as furious as the wind, lightening flashing quick upon the heels of thunder.
Rebekah slept fitfully, and when Chastity climbed back into bed beside her, she cuddled close. Chastity considered waking her to calm her, but she might be more frightened if she witnessed the storm.
As if to fortify her concern, thunder struck fit to wake the dead and lightening brightened the room to daylight.
Bekah sat up screaming, bolted from the bed, and threw open the door to Reed’s room. At the same moment, the boys came through the opposite door. With the next quick clap, Luke dived into bed with Chastity.
“Scaredy baby,” Mark accused in a wobbling voice.
Thunder and lightening came simultaneously, Matt and Mark white and terrified. “Where’s Bekah?” Matt asked.
“In here,” Reed called.
They made for Reed’s room posthaste. Chastity followed, Luke as well. In the next flash, she saw Reed sitting up in bed, shirtless, a blanket to his waist. Bekah in the safety of his arms, her face tucked against his neck. Though his hair was charmingly mussed, he looked as if he had not yet slept.
As thunder clapped, again, Chastity wondered if questions without answers, and problems without solutions, also plagued him. In the light that followed, Reed grinned, as if he had been waiting for the right moment to do so. “Climb in,” he suggested, his voice silk as sin.
Luke needed no second request. He climbed over Reed with alacrity.
“What the heck?” said Matt.
She and Mark stepped close, but neither joined them. “Reed?”
“Yes, Chastity?”
“Your clothes?”
Thunder cracked. The room brightened. Reed’s smile looked angelic. “It’s nighttime, Chastity. I have no need for clothes.”
Luke giggled.
“But the children—”
“Are in their nightshirts.”
A strangled sound from Mark ended in a cough.
“I’m—”
“In your nightrail, and looking lovely with your cute pink toes peeking from beneath your hem.”
Luke giggled again. Matt and Mark snickered.
“It’s too dark to see such things.”
“I have a wonderful imagination.”
Chastity sighed, fighting beguilement.
“Sounds like the storm is right over us, and staying for a visit, if I do not miss my guess. We’re nice and comfortable here. What about you two?”
Mark walked around the bed and climbed in. “I do not give a fig what he’s wearing. I’m tired.”
“Chastity,” Reed said, his voice sultry of a sudden. “We’re simply a man and a woman with a flock of children between us and nothing but good intentions.”
She knew better. “I think only one of us has good intentions.”
“I am forewarned and shall try not to succumb to your wiles.”
The boys all out sniggered. Chastity sighed.
“It’s going to be a long night,” he cajoled.
“Oh, all right.”
“Great,” said Mark, who moved over, followed by Matt, Luke, then Reed, who made room for her beside him.
“Now wait a minute,” Chastity said, hands on hips.
Reed tut tutted. “Get in Chastity. I’ll keep you safe.”
Ignoring the warmth filling her, Chastity marched around the bed and shoved Mark over. “Move, you rat. All of you, or I’ll send you back to your own beds, let thunder blow the roof off.”
Reed chuckled but complied, his army of matchmakers doing likewise.
Far from temptation, Chastity snuggled down, feeling safe, despite the frenzy beyond the battlements, Reed’s proximity keeping drowsiness at bay.
“Chastity?” he whispered.
She tried to ignore him, though her heart refused.
“Chastity, reach over here.”
There was something good in reaching for him, in lacing their fingers together, and resting their arms on the small ones between them. Chastity closed her eyes and pictured them snuggled there, all six, like a family.
“Chastity,” Reed called softly.
“What?”
“I’m wearing trousers.”
“Jeez,” Mark said. “Go to sleep.”
Reed knew when morning arrived, though he had not yet opened his eyes because the children woke him telling each other to shush.
Luke was wiggling beneath the blankets, toward the foot of the bed, presumably to escape without causing a disturbance. Reed almost laughed. As if anyone could sleep now.
Bekah nestled close, her tiny finger scraping his night’s growth of whiskers. Reed smiled despite himself, and when he did, that same finger embedded itself into his dratted chin-dimple. His chuckle rose without volition, erupting into a belly laugh.
That was all it took, and the brigands set up a cacophony of gargantuan proportions. He wanted to join them. Damn, they were getting to him. He raised his head to regard their provoking protector, far across the bed.
She looked innocent, beautiful, her smile radiant, her eyes glowing, a lazy contentment beckoning, which seemed to have the same effect on the children. They charged her, laughing and tickling.
He threw on a shirt but didn’t button it. By the time he headed around the bed, he could barely see Chastity, for the pig pile scrambling for her attention.
Her screams were as delightful as her laughter. “Reed. Reed, save me. Please.”
“I’m here, fair maiden. Your knight in shining armor.” He swooped down, lifted her in his arms and ran away with her, the children in hot pursuit. As they followed him down the hall, Reed wondered who was having more fun, but it must be him.
Into the gallery, he ran, and jumped on the ballroom dais, setting Chastity down behind him, while he wielded an imaginary sword.
Her pursuers fell giggling to the floor.
He threw his sword down in disgust and placed his hands upon his hips. “At least give me a good fight, you scoundrels.”
Rebekah raised her arms, “Weed?”
“And the rogue knight’s stone heart turned to mush,” he said as he lifted her to accept her morning kiss. Then he herded everyone toward their bedchambers. “Wash, dress, breakfast and chores, and then we’re off on a quest. I’m going to search this place from hidden cellars to musty attics, and you’re all going to help. Now scoot.”
More than an hour later, they’d still not begun their quest. They were searching instead for Luke, who’d gone missing.
Reed headed toward the smoke shed, a building they had never used. He hated the hooks hanging from the ceiling and had forbidden the children entrance. It was the last building to search and he dreaded going in.
When he heard the shouts, he was glad they hadn’t come from inside. But relief disappeared in a hail of frantic calls. Matt came running. “Reed come quick.”
“What’s wrong? What is it? Where’s Chastity? Did something happen to Chastity?”
“No, Luke says he’s gonna’ fly, but I’m afraid he’ll fall off the roof.”
The roof? “Oh, God.”
The sight above—three stories above—stopped Reed’s forward surge as if he’d run into a Cotswold stone wall. “Damnation,” he said. “Luke Jessop, do not move. Do not bloody well move an inch from that spot. Do you hear me?”
“No, I’m gonna fly my machine,” Luke said. “Watch.”
Damned DaVinci! Reed cursed inwardly. “Grab that cornice and do not move! I’m coming to get you.”
Luke stood outside a window near a tower Reed never noticed from inside. “What part of the house is that?” he asked Mark and Matt.
“We don’t know,” Matt said. “If we knew where to look, we wouldn’t have searched so long.”
“Chastity,” Reed called. “Where the hell is Chastity?”
“Up there,” Matt said.
Reed knew before he saw her. “Do not!” he ordered, knowing it was useless. “Double damn. Bloody, damn foolish—”
The minute Chastity stepped onto the window ledge beside Luke, she teetered, and spread her arms for balance.”
“Damnation!” Reed began to climb.
Luke dropped his flying machine to grab Chastity’s flailing arm, and it took several terrifying moments for her to catch the edge of the ledge and steady herself.
Unmistakable Rogue Page 18
