The Highwayman's Bride

by Beckenham Jane

  “You know Aiden was married before.”

  “I gathered as much, but he hasn’t mentioned her.”

  “That’s because she broke his heart. Lillian was beautiful. The belle of any ball, and when she smiled, it was as if the whole world smiled with her. She melted Aiden’s heart, and broke it.”

  This wasn’t what Tess expected to hear, and now she wasn’t sure she wanted to know more.

  “Then he was shipped off to the Peninsula and when he came home Lillian was with child.”

  “But surely that would have been a blessing after such a brutal time at the front?”

  “No, you don’t understand.” Mary shook her head. “Oh, I really should not speak of this.”

  Tess reached for her sister-in-law’s hands. “Please, Mary. I need to know. Alexander is such a sweet child and deserves a father’s love. My father died and I miss him so dreadfully. I still remember his love, his smiles, and the time we spent together. Those memories are precious, surely Alexander deserves as much.”

  “Aye, he is a sweet child, which just goes to show that it is not all about who his mother was.”

  “His mother?”

  “Lillian may have been beautiful, but she was a witch. Her temper renowned. Many a time she would throw things at the staff. But Aiden didn’t see this. He saw her beauty, for she surely bewitched him as if she cast a spell on him.” With a heavy sigh, Mary lifted her sad eyes to Tess. “Lillian was with child, as I said, she was due a few days after Aiden returned. He was so happy to get back—alive at least—and so were the rest of us—except Lillian.”

  “Good grief, why not?”

  “Lillian was…was carrying another man’s babe.

  Tess gasped and slapped a hand to her mouth. “Dear God. No.”

  “Unfortunately. Aiden had been gone for more than ten months. The child could not have been his. Aiden was distraught. The woman he had placed on a pedestal had betrayed him.”

  Was it no wonder he didn’t trust—especially her—since she had resorted to blackmail! “You won’t tell him I have told you this, will you? Aiden is an intensely private man. He feels his pain deeply.”

  The words were on her tongue, before she asked. “Does he still love her?”

  “I don’t know, though it would be no use, for she died giving birth to his son.”

  His son—but not of his making.

  “His son. Such easy words to say.”

  “But difficult to take to heart.”

  “Not so, I think,” Tess mused aloud. “Loving someone is easy. Being a father or mother is not a matter of birth, but because you love them, because you hold them close when they are sick. That you put aside your business when they ask you to read them a story. That is being a parent. If only Aiden would love Alexander as much as Alexander loves his papa.” And that, Tess determined, would be her goal.

  Arm in arm with Mary, they made their way back toward the Hall. “Do you think Aiden will be back before tomorrow?” Tess asked.

  “For Christmas?”

  “Yes. Though it does not seem very festive with no greenery or carol singing.”

  “Charnley has been a sad place for a long time. Lillian. My babe. Florian. Each has stabbed a hole in Charnley’s heart.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Mary’s mouth hitched ever so slightly, but it was the first time that Tess had not witnessed its tremble at the mention of her husband.

  “It is easier?” she questioned.

  Mary’s smile broadened. “Oh, yes, I believe it is. These walks and our talks have done me good. Thank you.”

  Tess glanced across the white-cloaked landscape toward the fir and oaks. An idea sprung to mind. “The trees that grace the land on the western side of the Hall—do you think it would be possible to cut some branches?”

  Hesitation cloaked Mary’s smile. “I do not know. The celebrations at Charnley have been lost for so long.”

  “All the more reason to start again. Charnley has hundreds of trees, I’m sure a few branches will not matter.”

  An hour later, with the help of one of the stable hands, Tess was certain they’d cut enough greenery to decorate the entire village.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Mary asked, her brow creased with worry as they headed back toward the Hall.

  “Of course. Aiden will not mind. It is the festive season, after all.”

  …

  Aiden couldn’t wait to get home.

  For two long days and long, cold nights he’d traipsed across the countryside, dreaming of Tess the entire time. Dreaming of holding her and kissing her.

  And making love.

  He spurred Phantom onward. “Come on, I know you’re tired, but the sooner we get home, the better.”

  Phantom whinnied as they neared the entrance to Charnley and needed no extra encouragement, the animal’s speed increasing to a trot.

  The sight of his home fired a renewed joy and relief in Aiden. After this last encounter with Nash he’d been lucky to escape with his life, his wounds a frank reminder of how close he’d come to not coming home ever again.

  He’d told Tess the truth—just not all of it. Not of Nash’s link to her uncle. Nor of his suspicions about her. Then there was the rumor he’d heard from a neighboring estate that a certain auburn-haired beauty was enquiring about governess positions. Aiden had quietly made it known his thoughts on the matter.

  Now, as he rode the last few yards toward home, he decided to put aside Nash for today. It was time to enjoy his wife.

  It was her laughter he heard first. A tinkling of delight that inspired an irrational urgency in him. He prompted Phantom to up the pace.

  The laughter increased as he drew closer. Tess, Mary, and Alexander dragged boughs of greenery across the snow-laden grass toward the Hall.

  At his approach everyone stilled, but Aiden had eyes only for his wife. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, eyes bright with delight. Her bonnet had fallen off and her hair, tipped with snow, hung in an undulating wave of curls around her face.

  He drew a harsh breath as he remembered the sensation of her hair across his skin and then stamped that memory right back down. He fisted his hands and his jaw clenched. Vulnerability would weaken him. He could slake his need, but allow nothing else. “What’s going on?”

  “We are decorating,” Alexander said, jumping up and down.

  Aiden’s gaze shifted toward his son.

  His son.

  Shock stabbed him in the chest.

  His son.

  The concept felt awkward, strange. Unbidden. And yet…

  He turned to Tess. “You decide to redecorate my house while I’m away.”

  She stared up at him, defiance blatant. It caused him to smile. That was his Tess. His wife.

  “As the mistress of Charnley Hall, I thought it would be nice for the festive season. Tomorrow is Christmas, after all.”

  “You did not think to ask me.”

  “You were not here. Someone needed to take charge.”

  “May we, Papa?”

  Papa?

  “Please, Papa.”

  Aiden dismounted and passed the reins to a groom who stood nearby. “Give him a good rubdown, Frankie. Phantom has worked hard these last few days.”

  “Success?”

  Aiden turned to Mary. “Nay,” he said with a shake of his head. “Again he escaped.” And to Aiden’s mind there had been too many near misses now to preclude the realization that someone was tipping Nash off.

  But who?

  He turned to his wife, looking hard for a hint of deception, a hint of guilt.

  “Oomph.” Aiden pitched forward into the snow. Something had hit him square in the back. Righting himself, he spun round, catching sight of Alexander, who held a snowball in his hand ready to let fly. His eyes were wide, uncertainty coloring their depths.

  “Why you…” Aiden hesitated, then bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, packing it quickly into a ball and tossed it t
oward his son.

  His son.

  Squeals of laughter erupted as Alexander ducked the snowball.

  Snowballs flew. Another and another. Tess hit him in the face. Aiden connected one with her shoulder, while Alexander scooped up one after the other, tossing them at both him and Tess.

  Mary joined in too, the laughter from the four of them such an unfamiliar sound it brought Aiden up short. He reached for Tess, hauling her out of a snowdrift.

  She came easily into his arms and her cheeks brightened even further.

  Breathing harshly, his heartbeat thumping, he brushed the snow from her nose, only to swipe a finger across her lips.

  Her lips parted and he felt the rush of her breath across his skin. Something inside him melted.

  In the background, barely acknowledged, he heard Mary encourage Alexander to go inside for a warm drink.

  Aiden didn’t move. Couldn’t.

  “The others are going inside,” Tess finally said.

  “A good idea.” Because that would leave him alone with her.

  “We keep standing out in the snow.”

  “We do.”

  “You want to freeze?”

  “I have an idea that will warm us both.”

  Interest sparkled in her eyes and her body brushed against his. His groin tightened, the urge he’d warred with these last days overpowering.

  “And what would that be?”

  He leaned forward and whispered. “You really want to know?”

  Her mouth quirked. “It sounds intriguing.”

  “Oh it is. It’s delicious.”

  “Like chocolate?”

  “Better than chocolate.”

  A tiny tinkle of laughter fluttered from her lips. “Now that is intriguing.”

  Aiden wanted to kiss Tess. Again and again. Despite his suspicions and despite the internal warning that getting close to his wife was far from sensible. But he didn’t want sensible. He wanted her lips beneath his and he couldn’t resist any longer.

  Slipping his arms around her waist, he drew her close. He kissed her hard and fast, taking everything she gave him. Gloried in it. Wanted everything she gave him.

  “We should go inside,” she whispered against his ear.

  Upstairs to their chamber.

  “That really is a good idea.”

  “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Your wife, m’lord, awaits your kisses

  But mostly your heart.

  Mirabelle’s Musings

  Christmas Eve, 1813

  The velvety voice hinting at something familiar shocked Tess from what she was doing.

  From kissing Aiden. Kissing him and wanting so much more.

  She jerked out of his embrace and stepped away, her booted feet sinking into the thick snow.

  “Always such impeccable timing, Jasper,” Aiden drawled as he unhooked his gaze from hers and turned to face the newcomer.

  “I do try my best.”

  “Oh that you do, brother.”

  Surprise bloomed in her chest. “Oh, Jasper. How lovely. I thought you were at Oxford.”

  “Only when he’s not pursuing other tawdry interests. What are you doing here, Jasper? What do you want this time?”

  Tess shot her husband a censorious glare. “Aiden, do not be so rude. Your brother has come a long way.” She looked at Jasper, taking in his youthful countenance, and then at Aiden. Yes, there was a similarity. So similar, and yet different.

  Where Aiden’s hair was a tawny blond-brown, his brother’s was darker. Their eyes were a perfect color match, however, and though humor glittered in the newcomer’s, Aiden’s expression had turned dour.

  “And you, I gather, must be the delightful new Lady Charnley. Allow me to introduce myself formally, since my brother is sorely lacking in manners. I’m Jasper, Aiden’s younger, more charming, brother.” He stepped forward, his smile beaming. So like his brother, but…he wasn’t her Aiden.

  “Mary has mentioned you often.”

  “Though not my brother, I gather.”

  Her smile faltered. It was true. Aiden had mentioned Jasper only once and that was all. “Welcome home.”

  He offered her a short bow. “Thank you, though my brother is not so welcoming, it seems.”

  Witnessing Aiden’s hard edge unsettled Tess. She turned to the steps, drawing away from Aiden. “Let us get out of this cold. Something warm is in order, I think.”

  “And I thought you were enjoying our moment, taking full advantage of what it offered.”

  Tess darted a glance toward Jasper, realizing with relief that Aiden’s caustic comment reached her ears only. She knew exactly what he talked of, though. Of kisses in the snow. Of holding him to her.

  She refused to be baited, and instead offered Jasper a warm smile. “You must have had a long journey and are cold and hungry. I’ll get cook to prepare you something.”

  “And what about my long journey?”

  “Self-inflicted, my lord.” She beckoned Jasper. “Do come inside.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Aiden’s brother held out a crooked arm to her and with a deliberate look at Aiden, she took Jasper’s arm and they walked up the steps and inside.

  Aiden followed, but by the loud stomping of his boots on the marble steps and then the slamming of the front door, Tess knew her husband was not a happy man.

  She quickly gave instructions to the cook and returned to the morning room where Aiden sat, an already half-empty tumbler of brandy in his hand.

  Jasper stood in front of the fire. “I am not surprised at my brother’s reticence to proclaim his relationship to me.”

  Tess glanced from brother to brother, but Aiden simply downed the rest of his drink and refilled the glass without speaking.

  “My brother and I, well, let’s just say we have differing opinions on most things.”

  “Like staying out of gambling halls,” Aiden growled.

  “If you want to live a boring life, brother, that’s all very well. However, I am delighted at last to meet your beautiful bride.” He raised her outstretched hand and kissed it. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Aiden is so serious, I’m surprised he managed to woo you. Though I must say, brother, you do manage to find yourself beautiful women.”

  Women! Lillian? Others?

  The worm of jealousy soured in the pit of her stomach.

  Aiden stepped between her and Jasper and slipped an arm around her waist. He drew her close, fingers playing across her shoulder in a teasing touch that proclaimed her as his.

  It was a casual action and yet he had never done such a thing before—at least not publicly. It shocked her for a moment, and then, quite by surprise, she found herself relaxing in his embrace, succoring in his warmth.

  “For what reason do we owe the pleasure of your company? Though I would surmise in likelihood it’ll be the same reason as the last few visits.”

  Jasper’s cheeks reddened. “You think you’re better than me. The feted oldest child,” the young man countered, his voice taking on a distinct whine.

  Just then the maid arrived carrying the tray of tea and hot chocolate Tess had requested. Aiden released his hold on her and she took a seat.

  “If you think your hot chocolate is the cure for all that dwells here, sweet Tess, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

  She eyed him. Every nerve seemed taut, the muscle in his jaw pulsed, and the fingers clamped around his tumbler whitened to alabaster.

  “Nor will over-imbibing hard liquor,” she countered, sipping at her hot chocolate.

  Just then, her hair awry, Mary rushed into the room, collapsing into the closest chair. “That boy will be the death of me. He insists you read him a story, Tess. Do you think you—” She spied her younger brother. “Oh, Jasper!” She sprang to her feet and ran into his outstretched arms, her pleasure a stark difference from Aiden’s countenance.

  Deciding to leave the siblings to their reunion, though Tess wasn’t sur
e whether the ice between the brothers would thaw any time soon, she headed upstairs, to Alexander’s delight.

  Ten minutes later with the story ended, Tess closed the Juvenile Journal. She stood up to leave, but Alexander reached out and tugged at her skirt.

  “Do you think my papa will love me someday?”

  Her heart constricted, breaking even more as she spied tears in the young boy’s eyes. She reached down and brushed his tangled curls from his forehead. “I know he will.”

  Giving Alexander a kiss on the cheek, Tess departed the nursery, her answer to Alexander preying on her conscience. This was all about love. About Alexander seeking his father’s love. His attention. About a chance meeting that changed the course of her life. And about loving Aiden.

  Tess closed the door to Alexander’s room with a jerk.

  Love!

  Her knees buckled beneath her and, with shaking hands, she grabbed at the cushioned bench a few feet away. Grateful for its support, she sank down.

  Loving him! Aiden?

  She couldn’t love him. It wasn’t meant to happen. Aiden had simply been a temporary means to an end. But he is the man you love.

  Love? Dear God, she loved him!

  Tess took a few minutes to digest this fact. How could it have happened? She barely knew him, and yet the love that bloomed in her heart was real and true. So what now? Did she tell him?

  She knew him to be a man of great honor, loyalty and pride; his ongoing actions in hunting down Nash proved that.

  Then there was Alexander.

  Aiden treated his son as if he were a by-blow that he couldn’t stand to see. Yet just a short while ago he had played with him in the snow and for the first time, Aiden’s reserve had dropped away. Surely there was hope?

  The man confused her. Hard. Ruthless. And yet he felt the need for justice deeply and intensely, proving his single-mindedness. But could he love anyone? Love her?

  Tess had come into this marriage with one objective. To escape. Now everything had changed. Not overnight, but slowly, building up. A look there, a quiet word in the night. A smile. Now she wasn’t sure if she could walk away.

  Deciding she needed to keep her own counsel for the time being, she descended the stairs, only to hear a cacophony of voices.

  “I am sick and tired of your preaching, Aiden. Can you not understand?”