Sir Michael's Mayhem

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Sir Michael's Mayhem Page 25

by Susan M. Baganz


  She took the envelope. “And what of you? Where will you be as I labor at this?”

  “Wherever you want me. I can stay at Rose Hill and visit. I will be glad to assist in any way you desire.”

  “Michael. As my lawful husband, this is your home as well as mine. You are welcome to take up residence here as long as you wish. The master bedroom is ready for your occupation.”

  Michael felt as if he had been punched. She not only was willing to accomplish this mission but also let him into her home. The home that he grew up in.

  Michael rose. “Thank you. It would be most convenient to be able to be here to assist you in this task. We worked well together in the past.”

  “Yes, we have.” Her voice was soft.

  “Why did your purchase my childhood home?”

  “You grew up here. I needed a place to live and raise our child. It was available and close to people I have known all my life. I wanted our son or daughter to have roots and the security of a warm and loving home to grow up in.”

  “Even if you didn’t have a husband to share it with?”

  “Your mother didn’t do too badly with you and I at least have the benefit of your name. Our child will be legitimate.”

  Michael glanced at her rounded stomach. “How long have you known?”

  “I suspected it before you regained your memory and was waiting to be certain before telling you. Before I could do so, you disappeared.”

  Michael hung his head. “I have much to atone for.”

  “Perhaps. We can start over if that is what you want, but I will not force you to be married if you do not wish it.” She rose and held on to the books in one hand while reaching for her crutch. “But for now, we have a job to be done. We’d best not waste any more time.” She hobbled out of the room and down the hall with Michael following. She issued some directives to her staff for food and tea to be brought.

  Once in her study, she sat down behind a desk and motioned for Michael to bring another chair. He did, and side by side, they settled down to work.

  ~*~

  Within a short frame of time, Katrina’s hand cramped. She put her quill away and covered the ink pot. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Emotionally she was wound tight and it took everything within her to not beg Michael to stay and love her and their baby. It needed to be his choice. She fought back the tears and reached up to rub her neck.

  Michael had been careful not to touch her while they worked but she longed to throw herself into his arms as she inhaled his distinctive scent of man and horse. She would discuss what to write with him and loved to hear his voice and watch his smile. Oh, how she had missed him!

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I need to take a break.”

  “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I was so wrapped up in our task that I neglected to realize how hard this was on you.” Michael stood and came behind her chair and reached down to lay his hands on her shoulders. “May I?”

  Yes! Yes! Oh, please just hold me! She wanted to tell him but instead, she stiffened. “No, thank you, Michael.” She rose to stand. “If you don’t mind I think I’ll go rest in my room for a short time. If you want to bring your stuff from the inn, you can. I already took the liberty of moving your personal effects from Rose Hill to prepare your room for you.”

  She grabbed for her crutch and stepped away from Michael.

  “I could carry you to your room if you would like,” Michael offered.

  “That won’t be necessary, but I appreciate the offer. I’ll send word to you when I am ready to begin again.” She opened a drawer on the desk, placed the code and journal in there, locked it and pocketed the key. “Until later.”

  “Until later.”

  ~*~

  Michael finally realized why the smell of vanilla aroused such emotion in him. His mother often used that scent. He was transported into a different world as he worked alongside Katrina. He didn’t think he would ever tire of her hair escaping its pins or her smile and the beauty of her face. Her intelligence was a delight as well. She was willing to engage and offer suggestions that were often improvements on his own initial jottings. He longed to touch her and when she started rubbing her neck he thought maybe just a little massage there would be his chance.

  He experienced a thrill as he laid his hands on her shoulders and extreme disappointment when she refused him. What did he expect? Yes, he could claim the rights of a husband but he had already wounded her enough. He would need to woo her back slowly. He wanted her to come to him willingly. That would take time. He only had four more days. Once this project was done he had no excuse to be in this house, to interact with her, to see her.

  He donned his coat and hat in frustration and rode to the inn to collect his belongings. He was not about to turn down the offer of staying under the same roof as her.

  Returning to the house he was shown to the master bedroom. Even after his grandfather passed away he only once dared to enter this room. It had been dark and foreboding to him even as a young adult. He did not look forward to being here but if that’s where Katrina wanted him, he would survive. He’d slept in much worse quarters. When the door to the sitting room was opened, he was pleasantly surprised. The old wallpaper was gone and fresh paper adorned the walls in his favorite color of green with hints of blue and gold. The furniture was different. It had been in his old room. The four-poster bed boasted fresh curtains and counterpane and was a bright spot in the room. The carpets were new and plush. Everything in the room appealed to his senses in a way that brought him peace and comfort he had been missing for so long. Katrina had done this. For him.

  He walked to the dresser and touched briefly the effects that had often been left at Marcus’s abode. He found the box that originally carried the wedding ring he had purchased, along with the note he had written for the jeweler. What a fool he had been these past months. Tracking a man when he could have been setting up house with a woman who loved him. He’d even questioned her faithfulness! He cringed at the fact that he only wrote her one note and that was to take her to task for shining like the gem she was amongst the diamonds of the ton. Why would he have wanted any less for her?

  He flung himself on the bed face down. The mattress must be new. He would be loathe to leave this bed in the morning. Pushing up, he explored the closet and found all his belongings just as he wanted them.

  There was a knock on the door and Michael went to open it. There stood a young man, a little taller than Michael, fastidiously dressed in servant’s attire.

  “Sir Tidley, the mistress has asked me to serve as your valet while you are in residence, if it would please you. I am good with cravats and pressing clothing and shining shoes. I promise to do my best, sir, if you would only give me a chance.” The young man blushed to have spoken so boldly to the lord of the manor.

  “I would be honored to have you assist me.” Michael motioned for him to enter the room. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Pennington, sir.”

  “Pennington, I have a bag of clothes I brought with me from London that needs to be pressed and hung. Could you attend to that?”

  “As you wish, sir.” The new valet gave a toothy grin and set about his work with calm efficiency.

  Michael left the room, headed down the stairs, and out to the gardens. Even that had been transformed back to the way his mother once arranged it. He found a rose blooming and inhaled deeply of the scent. He wandered around unil he found a large tree. Funny, he didn’t remember it being that big when he was a child. He glanced up at it and smiled. In a few years, he might be climbing up that tree to rescue a son or daughter if any of them took after their mother.

  A flash of a scene came to his mind, of Katrina collapsed beneath the tree and not responding to him. He felt panic, and then saw her laying lifeless on a bed. He stepped away from the tree to try to break the spell. Was it a memory or premonition? His head began to throb and realizing he hadn’t eaten much, he went to see if foo
d had been set out for the noon meal.

  He found the food on the buffet in the breakfast parlour. The room had a warm welcoming atmosphere. While she had kept some of the items that had been there when he was in residence, it felt more like home. This was his childhood house, but it was nothing like the cold, stiff place he remembered. It was better. Somehow, Katrina made it a home. He wasn’t quite sure if it was the way she decorated or if it was the woman herself. But for the first time in his life he felt like he belonged here.

  He sat down to eat and was finishing up when a servant came to inform him that Mrs. Tidley was awaiting him in the study. He rose from the table and set off to find his wife.

  He stopped. His wife. He grinned as hope bloomed.

  24

  Katrina pushed herself hard for several hours. It was difficult work as her lower back ached from carrying the child, and her shoulders, neck, and hand hurt from bending over to write. She almost relished the pain as it distracted her from other sensations that arose from being seated next to her husband. Or the man who was her husband, just not right now. With the time limit set, there was no opportunity for discussion and she wasn’t ready to talk about what would be next for their marriage until they finished the book and it had been safely delivered. They broke for a short time before supper and then worked after the evening meal, on into the night.

  Katrina could stifle her yawns no longer. “I’m sorry, Michael, but we need to end for tonight. I cannot do anymore.”

  “We can return to this in the morning. We are making far greater progress than I had anticipated.”

  Katrina locked up the papers and book. She rose to grab her crutch and hobble off to her room. “Good night, Michael. I pray you sleep well.”

  “And you too, Mouse.”

  Katrina stopped and stared. Her heart sank at the sound of that name. “Thank you.” Katrina made her way to her room, shut the door, leaned her head against it, and turned the key in the lock. She already knew that the door adjoining their rooms was locked. She wasn’t ready to have her heart broken again, but feared she was too far gone to avoid that fate.

  ~*~

  Morning brought frost to the windows and a cold biting wind from the north. Katrina shivered as she prepared for the day with the help of her maid. She ate in her room and chose to wear a simpler gown of dark blue. It wasn’t the gray or brown of her days as a lady companion, but in style, it was of the same simplicity and as modest. She had her hair braided tighter. Her only jewelry was her wedding ring. She hobbled down the stairs with care, struggling with her balance with her stomach protruding. She managed to make it to her study before Michael made his appearance. She settled behind the desk, hoping that somehow, her stomach would be hidden.

  She rubbed her tummy and the baby moved. “Hello, little one. Have you enjoyed hearing your daddy? It is nice to have him home, isn’t it?”

  ~*~

  Michael walked into the room with his normal cat stealth and was arrested by the image of his wife caressing her swollen abdomen. His heart swelled. He cleared his throat.

  She glanced up and dropped her hand. She readjusted her chair and motioned for him to come in. “I’m ready to begin. Are you?”

  “Yes.” He came to sit next to her and experienced peace just inhaling her scent. He gazed at her dress that covered more skin but also revealed more generous curves than he remembered. Or was he exaggerating because of his abstinence all these months? He trampled down the questions and urges that kept wanting to rise to the surface and forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

  At about ten of the clock, there was a rap on the door. A footman announced that Dr. Miller had come for his appointment with Mrs. Tidley.

  “I forgot.” Katrina shoved the papers in the drawer and locked it. “I guess we will take a break for a short time. We can return to this after lunch.” Grabbing her crutch, she hobbled to the door and made her way upstairs to meet with the doctor.

  ~*~

  Michael waited in the hallway, much to the consternation of the footman assigned to the front door. When Dr. Miller descended the stairs, Michael motioned for him into the study and locked the door behind him.

  “How fares my wife, Bruce?”

  Dr. Miller considered Michael with a furrowed brow. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I am her husband. Doesn’t that give me enough reason?”

  Bruce frowned and he took a deep breath. “I’m concerned about your wife’s health with this pregnancy.”

  “Why? What is wrong?” Michael stood up straighter now.

  “She’s been lightheaded and isn’t eating enough. Now with her on the crutch with her ankle, I’m not happy with her taking the stairs. If she were to black out…”

  “Has she passed out before?”

  “Only once, but since we never did figure out why she had been unconscious beneath that tree, I’m perhaps more vigilant.”

  “What are you talking about? Unconscious? That makes no sense.”

  Dr. Miller rocked back on his heels. “You don’t remember. You had amnesia at the time. And you have it still, only now for the period when you lost your past.” He took a deep sigh. “Your wife requires rest. She needs someone to watch over her and pamper her.”

  “Are you taking me to task as her husband?” Michael’s voice held an edge.

  “No. But if you are not going to be a husband to her you should let her go. She’s a treasure and surely someone will be more than happy to fulfill that role.”

  “Like you, Dr. Miller?”

  “Mrs. Tidley is an attractive and winsome woman. Any man would be insane to pass up a treasure like her.”

  Michael sized up the doctor. He clenched and released his fist repeatedly. “I could call you out for that.”

  “But you won’t, because you know I speak the truth. Take care of your wife, Michael. She needs you.”

  Michael nodded and went to unlock the door. Not another word was shared between the men.

  ~*~

  Michael watched Katrina bend over the journal to write the latest entry. Maybe two more to go before the book was filled and ready to be delivered. Katrina had dark shadows under her eyes. Her cheekbones were more pronounced. He looked at her hands as she wrote and they seemed thinner than he remembered. Her ring was loose. She yawned and leaned back in her chair.

  “Mouse?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Would you like to end now? We are close. We could finish in the morning.”

  “No. Let’s push through and get this done.” She sighed and pulled herself back to the desk. “Now, that last bit of code, how about I write it something like this…”

  ~*~

  It was close to midnight when they finally finished and Katrina could barely keep her eyes open. She handed the completed journal to Michael after he had burned their notes in the fireplace.

  “You will head to London in the morning?” She moved to sit on the loveseat with her feet out in front of her, little blue slippers peeking out and her ankles exposed.

  Michael swallowed as he gazed at his lovely wife. His wife. The task. Remember the mission. “I will depart early.”

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her neck was long and thin and he longed to press kisses there.

  “Will I be welcome back here when my mission is complete?”

  Her eyes shot open. “This is your home, Michael.”

  “No, this is a house. A lovely house, I will grant you. My home is with you. Am I welcome back home?”

  Katrina struggled to rise.

  Michael rushed to her side. “Allow me.” She stopped moving and gazed up at him. She broke eye contact but allowed him to assist her to her feet. “Let me walk you to your room.”

  “I’m sure I can manage on my own.” She yawned and attempted to cover it up but failed.

  “Humor me.”

  Katrina grabbed for her cane but only to carry as Michael put his arm around her and supported her up the stairs to the
door of her room. He noted that it was the suite adjoining his own. He released her but brought his hand up to her face. “You are so beautiful.” He turned to leave.

  ~*~

  Katrina watched him walk away. She had been certain he would kiss her. She wished he would. But tomorrow he’d leave, taking her heart with him. And when would he return? Ever? She yawned and entered her room. Exhaustion plagued her.

  ~*~

  Michael rode hard the next day. Arriving in town late that night he let himself into his townhouse and up the stairs to his bedroom. He had a day to spare but hoped Jared would find him early. He was eager to return to Hart Manor to pursue his wife. He collapsed into bed without even starting the fire in the grate in spite of the cold.

  He awoke to the sound of flames crackling, in the middle of the night. He was startled as it initially reminded him of rescuing Katrina from the fire. He sat bolt upright and scanned the room. A dark figure loomed by the fireplace. Michael reached under his pillow for the knife he kept there.

  “Hold your fire,” the voice in the darkness called out and hands were held up in surrender.

  “Jared?”

  “Do you have the book?”

  Michael threw back the covers, withdrew the book and handed it to Jared. “She worked hard.”

  “She fares well?”

  “As well as she can be given her low-life husband.”

  “Redemption is worth pursuing.”

  Michael nodded. “Just pray that my attempt is well-received.”

  Jared came and put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “I will definitely be praying for you both.” He lifted up the red book and made for the door. “I have a delivery to make and then I’m off to France. You haven’t seen me.”

  “Godspeed, Jared.”

  Michael was wide awake after Jared left, but his horse would not be ready to depart so soon. He paced his room, prayed, and sat to open his Bible. He noticed that pages were turned down for one book and he began to read.

  There, in those pages, he found his memory.

  ~*~

  Hope soared in him as he rode back to Hart Manor. He felt complete and whole as never before. He made it to the house by midafternoon. His horse was lathered, but he let the stable hand take care of him as he ran for the front door. Without knocking, he opened it up and ran inside the foyer.

 

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