One Rogue Too Many

by Samantha Grace

She returned his smile. “It’s hard to imagine I looked like a street urchin only an hour ago.”

  “You’re always beautiful to me.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and grinned at her brothers. “Can you believe your sister has accepted me at last?”

  Drew clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t count your chickens just yet, Ellis. We still have to make it to the blacksmith without incident.”

  Gabby wrinkled her nose. “If there is any incident involved, it is likely to be my half-boot making contact with your derriere.”

  Drew gave a mock gasp. “Lord Ellis, what have you taught my sister?”

  They all laughed and continued teasing each other as they walked to the smithy’s shop. Several of the villagers stopped to stare at their boisterous entourage, some with smiles and others with pinched faces. Gabby called out greetings to everyone they passed and wished them well.

  In all her girlish fantasies, she had never pictured marrying over an anvil, but there had been one constant in all of her dreams. Anthony.

  She held him back as her brothers walked into the weathered building.

  He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, everything is right for once.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up into the face she had loved for as long as she could remember. “I always knew you were meant for me.”

  His smile was a glorious sight. “I’m forever yours, Lady Bug. Be gentle with me.”

  “Always,” she promised then sealed it with a kiss.

  Their ceremony was brief, and likely mundane to the blacksmith, but Gabby tried to memorize every moment to hold in her heart forever. The robust smell of a wood fire. The clarity with which they spoke their vows. Anthony’s soft smile and glittering blue eyes reminiscent of the North Sea.

  Her wedding was nothing like she had ever imagined, and perfect just the way it was.

  Thirty

  Anthony viewed their arrival back in London with mixed emotions. He missed his daughter more than he imagined possible and he couldn’t wait to see her, and yet her possible reception caused a flutter in his chest. What would Gabby think if his own daughter burst into tears when she saw him?

  He took his wife’s hand as the carriage turned onto Charles Street. “I’m not certain how Annabelle will behave when she sees us.”

  Gabby squeezed his hand. “I imagine she will be pleased to see her papa. I wish we’d had time to find a nice gift. My papa always brought home trinkets for my sisters and me when he had to be away.”

  Anthony frowned. He should have thought to bring something back from Scotland, but their stay had been brief since everyone in the traveling party had been eager to return to their loved ones. Their pace home had been only slightly less harried than their flight to Gretna Green.

  He hugged Gabby. “I’m proud to bring you home. Annabelle will like you even without trinkets.”

  He held out no hope of improving his standing with his daughter with or without presents. Having tried that path, he knew it led nowhere. Still, he’d like to live up to Gabby’s image of what a father should be.

  When the carriage rolled to a stop outside his town house, he placed a hand on her leg to halt her exit. “There is a chance Annabelle won’t be pleased when she sees me. I—I thought you should know so you aren’t caught unaware.”

  Gabby pursed her lips. “You mentioned once before that Annabelle is frightened of you. There must be an explanation that makes sense.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” He forced a laugh to hide his doubts. “Would you like to freshen up before we visit the nursery?”

  Her brows arched. “Won’t you have her come downstairs to greet us?”

  His jaw clenched. Gabby was already finding fault with his parenting. “She’ll likely be playing this time of day.”

  His wife’s ivory skin flushed. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’m afraid I have a lot to learn about being a mother. Please, be patient with me.”

  Tension drained from him, making his bones go soft again. Gabby had that effect on him. He cupped her cheek and kissed her sweet lips. “We have a lot to learn together. I’m still figuring out this father business myself.”

  Gabby opted to freshen up before he introduced her to Annabelle and Miss Teague. Her mother had arranged to have her belongings brought to Keaton Place and his butler had placed her in the rooms adjoining the master’s chambers. He left her to set herself to rights, but no sooner had he entered his rooms to change than the doors connecting their spaces swung open. She stood in the threshold, smiling.

  “There! That’s much better. No walls to keep us separated.”

  He returned her smile with a ridiculously wide grin. He hadn’t even had time to miss her, and here she was making herself comfortable in his space. After so many years of solitude one might think it would be annoying, but he found her intrusiveness endearing.

  “Well,” she said. “I suppose I’ll order up a bath now.”

  “Lady Ellis, I don’t think you are disheveled enough yet.” He sauntered toward her, his body eager for a reunion.

  Her eyes flared, but she held her ground as he advanced. “I didn’t know that was even a possibility.”

  He swept her into his arms to carry her toward his big bed. “Appearances can always be made worse, sweetheart, and I’m going to muss you up splendidly.”

  She squealed when he tossed her on the bed, but then reached her arms out in invitation, her gray eyes smoldering. “Do your best, Lord Ellis.”

  ***

  Gabby sensed a tremor race down Anthony’s arm as they neared the nursery, and she squeezed reassuringly. She didn’t understand the cause of his anxiety. Annabelle was just a girl, and certainly too small to engender this much trepidation.

  Entering the bright rooms brought a smile to her face. Shelves were loaded with angelic-faced dolls, a porcelain tea service complete with a tiny creamer and sugar dish, hand-carved carousel horses, and every other exquisite toy a little girl could imagine. A book lay open on the miniature table along with an abandoned slate.

  A tinkling laugh, reminiscent of a fairy, floated through the doorway of the other room. She glanced up at Anthony to ask if they should announce their presence before entering and her heart melted. His eyes shone with a soft light she’d never seen, and a gentle smile played on his lips.

  “You are smitten,” she teased, enamored by how loving a father he was.

  His smile stretched ear to ear. “You could say that. I almost feel I’m dreaming having you both under my roof.”

  “You’re not dreaming. We are here and we’re staying, so grow accustomed to it.” She lifted to her toes and kissed his cheek before tugging him toward the doorway. “Come make introductions.”

  Annabelle was sitting on a plush carpet with Miss Teague, her back to the entry. The little girl chattered happily as she stacked colorful blocks one on top of the other.

  “And the tower was very, very high,” she said in her lyrical voice. Gabby could listen to her talk for hours. “So, so high and the princess had a—uh…”

  Miss Teague smoothed a hand over the girl’s copper curls. “A ladder?”

  “No.” She turned and wrinkled her nose at her aunt as if she’d posed the most ridiculous question Annabelle could imagine. “The princess had a chickadee to fly her to the tower.”

  “But isn’t a chickadee too small?”

  She flung her arms out to her sides. “A big one.” She drew out the word big in such a cute way that Gabby couldn’t help chuckling.

  Annabelle and Miss Teague swung their heads toward them, their mouths hanging open.

  “Sorry to interrupt your play,” Anthony said as if disturbing the girl’s activities were tantamount to barging in on a session in the House of Lords. The situation hardly required the amount of seriousness displayed in his expression.

  Gabby smiled at Annabelle to put her at ease. “Good afternoon, Lady Annabelle. May I say your idea for a giant chickadee is the mo
st brilliant solution I’ve ever heard?”

  The corners of Annabelle’s mouth eased up as she tipped her head to the side. “Are you Papa’s wife?”

  “Annabelle,” Miss Teague scolded, placing a staying hand on the girl’s shoulder when she started to stand. “Impertinent questions won’t make your papa happy.”

  Gabby opened her mouth to correct the woman’s mistake, but thought better of it. Having never been around Anthony when he was with his daughter, she really didn’t know what made him happy and what displeased him. She supposed she should ask about his rules before she asserted her beliefs.

  Annabelle’s smile had disappeared, and she stared up at her father with large eyes.

  Anthony snapped out of whatever spell he’d been under. “Er, yes. This is my wife, Gabrielle, and she will be living here as mistress of the house.”

  The girl’s green eyes flicked to Miss Teague, Gabrielle, and then back to her aunt. Her little brow wrinkled as if trying to puzzle something out.

  Gabby leaned down so she was on her level. “You may call me Gabby if you like.”

  Annabelle nodded.

  “Well,” Anthony said with a slight clap of his hands that startled Annabelle, “shall we join you in playing blocks?”

  She inched closer to Miss Teague and the woman wrapped her in a tight embrace, smashing the girl’s rosy cheek against her side. “Annabelle is still a bit shy, milord. Perhaps another day would be better.”

  Annabelle’s eyes rounded even more before she buried her face into her aunt’s skirts. A tiny whimper slipped from her.

  Gabby glanced at Anthony to see what he made of the strange display, and her stomach pitched. His long face and the defeated look in his eyes broke her heart.

  “Very good,” he said before spinning on his heel and walking away.

  Gabby remained a moment longer, unsure of what she should say. Annabelle peeked at her and Gabby smiled. “It was nice to meet you, Annabelle. Perhaps in the morning you will visit the park with your papa and me.”

  She didn’t answer, but neither did she shy away. Gabby bid her and Miss Teague a good evening and left. She paused in the adjoining room to take inventory once more. The space would make a good schoolroom for Annabelle and any siblings Gabby and Anthony created. She hoped it wouldn’t take too long for her to get with child, because it would be nice if Annabelle had a brother or sister somewhat close to her age.

  Studying the blank wall, she began formulating an idea for a mural, similar to the one she’d grown up with at Foxhaven Manor. Miss Teague’s crooning voice interrupted her daydreams of re-creating a fairy world complete with pixie dust, gossamer wings, and blue bells.

  “There, there, my precious girl. Your papa is gone. You are safe.”

  Her words sparked Gabby’s ire. While it might appear Miss Teague was trying to reassure the girl, she was essentially telling Annabelle she was in danger when Anthony was near.

  Gabby had a good mind to march into the other room and set the woman straight, but she didn’t yet know her place in Annabelle’s life, and overstepping her bounds might upset Anthony. Instead, she went in search of her husband.

  She found him in his study behind his desk. “May I come in?”

  His head snapped up; the paper he was holding fluttered to the desk. “Is something wrong?”

  None of the distress she’d seen sweeping across his face earlier showed now. Not that she believed he was no longer hurt by his daughter’s reaction. He was simply a master at hiding his feelings.

  “There’s nothing wrong.” She wandered into the room, intrigued with exploring his private sanctuary. “I told Annabelle we would take her to the park tomorrow. She appeared rather interested.”

  He grunted in response. They were back to primitive communication. She wondered if she should hop on his desk and beat her chest in order to get anywhere with him.

  “Anthony, has Annabelle always been a nervous child?”

  “Nervous? I don’t think so.” His jaw twitched as he returned to his work. “She has never fully warmed to me, but I can’t blame the girl when I’ve only seen her a few times a year ever since she was born.”

  “Why did you leave her in Wales? Couldn’t you have seen her more if she’d come to Ellis Hall?”

  He glanced up. “Her aunt lived in Crickhowell and I already explained how Annabelle had formed an attachment with her. I didn’t think it was right to split them apart.”

  “And Miss Teague wasn’t in favor of moving to England until recently?”

  He dropped the paper on the desk again with an exaggerated exhale. “Why are you questioning me about Miss Teague? I thought we had cleared up the matter of who she is to Annabelle and what she is not to me.”

  His tone stung, but she decided to let it go. He was hurting even if he didn’t realize it himself. She moved beside him at his desk and smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “I was simply curious about Annabelle’s past. I didn’t mean to irritate you.”

  “And I didn’t mean to be surly.” He closed his eyes, melting under her touch. “Not long ago Miss Teague’s brother came to her home demanding money. He’d gotten himself into debt, and he was not above using Annabelle as leverage to extort money from his sister. He threatened to take Annabelle unless she came up with six hundred pounds.”

  “Where was she supposed to get that kind of money?”

  When he glanced up, his eyes were hard. “From me. But instead of writing to ask for money, Miss Teague wrote to inform me of his demands. I left for Wales as soon as I could.”

  The reason for his sudden journey and brief message. If he’d been open with her from the start, they could have been spared a lot of heartache. Nevertheless, she’d offered her forgiveness and couldn’t allow herself to feel bitter. She propped a hip on the edge of his desk, waiting for him to continue.

  “When I arrived at the cottage, Annabelle and her aunt were missing. The home had been ransacked. A neighbor said Miss Teague’s brother had been there several days earlier. A ruckus had ensued and Miss Teague was later seen with a blackened eye. I feared something horrible had happened to Annabelle, but the woman said she thought Miss Teague had taken her to stay with a distant relative the morning after her brother’s visit.

  “Unfortunately, she had already fled to a different location by the time I found her cousin’s farm. I spent the better part of my time chasing after my daughter and fearing the worst.”

  Gabby pressed her lips together in a frown. How childish she had been, expecting him to profess his love to her in letters when he was likely out of his mind with worry for Annabelle. “I’m sorry you went through something that scary.”

  “Annabelle and Miss Teague suffered more,” he said with a shrug. “That’s the reason I don’t press my company upon Annabelle. Miss Teague has reassured me that my daughter’s response isn’t to be taken personally.”

  His blue eyes misted over. He blinked and picked up his paper. “I really should finish with this correspondence. It has been piling up for weeks.”

  Gabby smiled sadly, then leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “I’m sure Miss Teague is correct. Annabelle will warm to you soon, you’ll see.”

  And Gabby would do everything she could to ensure her husband’s heart healed fully, which meant helping him smooth the way with Annabelle.

  Thirty-one

  Anthony woke the next morning with a renewed sense of optimism with Gabby curled against his side and thoughts of a walk in the park with his daughter in his head. He eased Gabby from his embrace and slipped from bed to summon his valet, excited to start his day.

  Pierce found Anthony in his dressing room rummaging through his jackets and gasped. “Milord, I will select your attire.”

  The man nearly shoved Anthony aside in his eagerness to fulfill his duties. One might think Anthony was in danger of being blown to bits if not for his valet throwing himself on a bundle of explosives. This was how seriously Pierce saw his responsibilities.

>   Anthony backed away with his hands up and chuckled. “Don’t you wish to know where I’m going this morning before you decide what I should wear?”

  “You go to the club every morning.” His valet selected a gray waistcoat.

  “But today I’m accompanying my bride and daughter to the park.”

  Pierce held up the waistcoat, wrinkled his nose, and put it back. “Too drab for the ladies, I fear.”

  “Yes, choose something cheerful.” An outfit to match Anthony’s mood. Annabelle had never accompanied him on a walk, and he looked forward to spending the morning with the two most important people in his life.

  Gabby began stirring in the outer room. He went to greet her with a kiss and arranged to meet her in the breakfast room. They would enjoy a nice meal, then he would summon Annabelle.

  He hadn’t been at the table long before his wife swept in wearing a yellow walking dress and looking as radiant as a beam of sunlight. She bypassed the chair at the other end of the table where his footman had placed a plate and slipped into the seat adjacent to Anthony. The servant scrambled to accommodate her, a light sheen breaking out on his forehead.

  Anthony sent him a sympathetic smile. They would all have adjustments to make, but adjustments must always be made any time there were improvements.

  Gabby shook out a napkin and draped it over her lap. “Later today I wish to call on Mama. Would you give permission for Annabelle to join me?”

  He blinked. “Are you certain you want a young child underfoot?”

  “If you think Mama will welcome me without her newest grandchild, you don’t know her very well.”

  Anthony’s heart inflated and threatened to burst. His daughter had a grandparent. Well, a grandparent who wanted to know her. Camilla’s parents had turned their backs on Annabelle once they learned her sire had been a member of the servant class. They did, however, give their word to keep the truth hidden. Too bad their promise had nothing to do with protecting their granddaughter and everything with avoiding the taint of their daughter’s sins touching them. It was their loss and his gain. Annabelle was a beautiful child.