She chuckled. He’d known exactly what to say. “And I’ll be the perfect employer.”
“You already are, you let me bring my brother to work. What do you think of him, by the way?”
“I like him. I think he’s wonderful.”
“I’m jealous already.”
Jade rose to lean on her elbow. “Why?”
“Because he will have other than a business relationship with you. I repeat. I’m jealous.”
She tickled the dimple in his chin. “It deepens when you pout, too.”
Marcus huffed and pouted some more.
She laughed. “Don’t worry. Garrett doesn’t—” Jade stopped, embarrassed at what she’d nearly revealed.
“Doesn’t what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He doesn’t make me mad, which you did the minute we met.” And he doesn’t turn me hot or cold or weak. He doesn’t stir me or make me yearn, she thought, which reminded her of what she’d wanted to say when they were interrupted by Eloisa’s arrival.
“Marcus, do you remember earlier today, when I chased you and Emily from the office?”
“Lord, it seems more like days, than hours, ago.”
“I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m sorry.”
“You were angry. With reason. And I never did have a chance to apologize or tell you what I wanted.”
“Tell me now.”
She lay back, took a breath, and considered where to begin. “I think ... it’s good that you and Emily care about each other, that you’re friends. What I especially like about your relationship is that it carries no threat for either of you.”
“Define threat.”
Jade curled his wrinkled neck-cloth around her finger. “It’s friendship, nothing more. You know. Neither of you is in danger of getting so caught up, you might get ... lost in the power of it.”
“I understand. Continue.”
“Remember, you warned me to step back from the fire, if it got too hot. Well, that’s what I’d like to do—step back, but not as far back as I first thought necessary.” Jade leaned on her elbow, head in hand, to watch his response. “I think that perhaps our relationship doesn’t need to be just business, except it can’t be like last night, either.”
“That makes sense.”
She released her breath. “Good. I want us to have what you and Emily have—the caring without the ... something ... that makes us—me—lose my ... self. Do you understand? Can you think about it?”
“The ‘something’ Jade that makes both of us lose ourselves is passion, which we can deny ourselves, though it’ll be harder to deny the lust that turns to passion.”
Jade groaned. “I forgot about the lust.”
“Why thank you, Jade. That’s the most emasculating statement ever made to me in bed.”
“Define emasculating.”
He shook his head. “I was almost joking. But let’s not consider lust for the moment, or one of us might cry again, and this time it won’t be you.”
She made to speak and Marcus crossed her lips with a finger and winked. “My one certainty, with regards to you and me, is that our relationship could never be just business. So I accept your gracious and humble offer of friendship with all my heart. It’s more than I hoped for this morning.” He kissed her hand. “From this moment on, it will be up to you to let me know if you want anything more than friendship.”
Relieved and amazed, and more grateful than she could express, Jade nodded. He was turning a great deal of power over to her.
“You do know, though, that friends hold each other.” Marcus said.
“Since you walked out of my study this morning, I’ve felt as if I lost my best friend. I’d like to be held by my friend now and again.”
Marcus placed his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad we’re friends. Best friends. I feel better about us now.”
“Me too,” Jade said on a shaky laugh, swallowing the lump in her throat.
He urged her up and sat beside her on the edge of the bed, then studied his bloody hands. Thanks for keeping me from passing out in front of everybody. Garrett would never have let me live it down.
She grinned.
Marcus did too. “Know where we can find some baby clothes?”
Jade laughed. “I’m in trouble the day you’re more practical than I am.”
“It’s been an unusual day.” He stood and offered his hand. “Look at us, both of us covered in blood.” He raised a teasing brow. “And your new coat is ruined.”
“Oh, Marcus, your beautiful coat.”
“Let’s retire to our respective rooms to wash. Then you can come to mine and choose another.”
“I want to change into a dress anyway. Choose a coat for me and bring it to my room—directly above yours, one floor up.”
Marcus knew then that it was going to be harder, now that they were friends, to keep his hands and lips, and everything else, out of trouble.
By the time they got Eloisa and her babies washed and settled, and her attendants got washed, changed, and back to her side, the new mother’s eyes kept closing. So Jade directed a late supper be served in the small salon. “We’ll take the babies with us,” she told Eloisa. “To give you a chance to rest and to give us a chance to get acquainted.”
Eloisa closed her eyes, her smile still in place.
Amid baby passing and admiring, during an enjoyable and informal supper, Jade got to know the non-cowering Abigail better, not to mention Marcus’s charmer of a brother.
“I’ve been meaning to compliment you, Jade,” Garrett said, interrupting her reverie.
She admired him as she regarded him, the perfect gentleman, a sleeping baby in the crook of his arm. “A compliment?”
“Belated compliments on your earlier attire. Not that what you’re wearing doesn’t become you splendidly. You’d do any dress great justice, but I particularly enjoyed the way you enhance a pair of breeches. And Marc, your coat never looked better.”
Marcus bounced a fussing baby on his shoulder as he paced the perimeter of the salon. “Jade’s trousers are not meant to attract the male of the species,” he said, rubbing the squirming little mite’s back. “They’re meant to deter.”
Garrett raised a sceptical brow. “Who are you trying to convince?”
Marcus looked affronted, making Garrett chuckle.
The babe on Marcus’s shoulder fussed a bit more and Marcus sighed theatrically. “How come the one named after you is sweet and quiet, I’d like to know.”
“The very same reason the one named after you is so much trouble.”
Abigail made a strangling sound that didn’t quite pass as laughter.
“Are you all right, Abby?” Jade asked.
“I’m rather ... shocked.”
“I apologize,” Garrett said. “Did I offend when I teased Jade about her trousers? I meant no disrespect.”
Abby waved away his apology, her face pink. “I didn’t mean to imply that my sensibilities were injured. It’s just that I thought all men were mean and unbending. And you and Marcus act as if you care about the people around you and each other. You’re kind and understanding, and ... amusing. I simply didn’t know men like you existed.”
“Neither did I,” Jade said. “They are a bit of a jolt and take some getting used to.”
“No doubt about it; we’re special,” Garrett said.
Jade about strangled, but true laughter won out. “They’re regular scoundrels, Abby. Pretty words and manners. And darned if I’ve found a mean streak in this one, yet, though he was a bit uncivil this morning.” She raised a restraining hand when Marcus made to protest. “With provocation, I’ll admit. But be warned, Abby, they can be dangerous to the unsuspecting of the female persuasion.”
Garrett harrumphed. “Dangerous indeed. Have you ever heard anything so preposterous, Marc?”
“I never,” Marcus said.
“And on that tempting note, I must pass,” Garrett drawled.
With his palm covering the tiny head nuzzled into his neck, Marcus returned his brother’s grin.
God they were an irresistible pair when they set out to charm.
“Hand me yours,” Garrett said. “He seems finally to have quieted. And propel us to Eloisa’s room so we can put them in their cradle.”
Abigail walked beside Garrett’s chair. “Are you all moved into the room on Eloisa’s other side?” Garrett asked her. “You can get to her much more quickly than I, if she needs help. And ... er, she won’t want me there at feeding time, at any rate.”
Garrett turned an interesting shade of pink, Jade noticed. Abby saw it too and smiled.
“Good night, Ladies,” Marcus said as Abigail entered her room, Garrett echoing the sentiment.
Marcus watched Jade turn into another corridor and imagined her making her way up the stairs to a bedroom as lush and feminine as its owner. Then he pictured her unbuttoning each and every—”
“Marc. She’s gone. You can breathe again.”
Marcus cursed and pushed Garrett’s chair forward. “Killjoy.”
Chapter Eight
Marcus shut Garrett’s bedroom door behind them, so they were free to talk for the first time since Garrett’s arrival.
Garrett began by clearing his throat. “Are you merely smitten-senseless, or shot-between-the-eyes in love, Marc?” Marcus ignored Garrett’s dart and paced the room caging him in. He stopped to gaze out the window. Putting his emotions into words seemed so unguarded. He contemplated the ramifications of not confessing, but decided he didn’t have much of a choice. Garrett had already seen too much.
After a ponderous silence, Marcus placed an arm on the mantle and faced his inquisitor. “Shot between the eyes, Garr. Shot dead.”
“The devil you say!”
Damn, he might have gotten away with equivocation, but too late now. Marcus shrugged. “Tail over top, but I fought a good fight.”
Garrett gave a good impression of a growl. “I suppose that means you haven’t thought about checking further into the bloody railroad?”
“You’re all heart.”
“A known fact. Well, have you investigated further?” Better to have something to report than not, Marcus supposed, however distasteful the news. “I have, as a matter of fact.”
“And?”
“I have one suspect.”
“Better than none. Who is it?”
Garrett slipped on his nightshirt and pulled himself up and into the bed.
Marcus wished he’d accept help. “Did I just see movement in your right leg?”
“Not enough to signify, so says Quack Peebles.”
“I’m sorry.”
Garrett waved the apology away like a pesky fly. “I repeat. Who?”
Marcus sat in Garrett’s wheelchair and placed his head in his hands. “Jade.”
Garrett used the precise word Marcus had been tempted frequently to use since meeting Jade.
Marcus lowered his hands and sighed. “I don’t have actual evidence. I saw her from a distance and I’m not convinced it was her, but somebody who saw her from the same distance was certain.”
“Is the witness reliable?”
“She’s three years old. Did you get to see the stuffed dress the workers found on the tracks, by any chance?”
“I brought it with me. It’s the only item left in that bag.”
“Oh.” Marcus’s heart tripped. “That might give us a clue.” Hands shaking, he opened Garrett’s satchel and pulled it out. “Damn it to hell.” He tossed the wadded item across the room. “The bloody thing is yellow.”
Garrett clearly thought he’d leapt off the edge of sanity.
“But it’s not Jade’s,” Garrett said.
“It’s not?” Relief. Hope.
“Spread it out on the bed and see for yourself.”
Marcus complied and stared blankly at it. “So?”
“I should think you could tell at a glance that it’s several sizes larger than Jade.”
Marcus sat at the foot of Garrett’s bed. “Lord, I’m glad you know women’s bodies so well. I never would have realized it.”
Garrett gave him a knowing look. “I’m of the opinion that you wouldn’t be thinking with the male portion of your anatomy, Marc, and would have realized it yourself, if you knew Jade’s body better.”
“Stuff your opinions, Garr.”
Garrett raised a brow but he remained silent, a fact which Marcus appreciated as he sat in the wheelchair and walked it in circles. Garr was probably right. If he took Jade to bed, he might be able to think straight, except she didn’t want him, yet. She might not be ready for him, until he discovered why the railroad frightened her senseless.
Marcus steepled his hands and tapped his fingertips together, as he pondered the dilemma. “Ah.” He stopped the chair. “I have an idea.”
“An invariable forewarning of calamity,” Garrett said, brow raised.
Marcus chose to ignore the caustic comment and sat forward. “When’s the next time something significant is due to happen concerning construction?”
“Tomorrow night. Why? We’ve been determined to keep it a secret.”
“In my mind, I’ve gone over and over the events before that dress got left on the tracks. I remember telling Jade how well the railroad would do and how odd she reacted—well, odder than usual, so odd, she left to search for something she inevitably needed my help to reach.”
Marcus remembered their intimate interlude in that storeroom as well. He rose to pace again. “Suppose I tell Jade that the railroad’s up and running again and what’s supposed to take place tomorrow night. She’ll be the only one who knows, other than us and the workers. I’ll go to the site and keep a look out to see if she shows up.”
“It’s a good idea. But, Marc, consider. What are you going to do, if you’re right?”
“If Jade’s the person responsible for the construction accidents, then she must have a good reason for it.”
“You’re joking?”
“We have to help her. That’s why I invited you to come here.”
“I thought you invited me because of your foolish guilt over my accident. When are you going to get over it, Marc?”
“When you get over pretending the accident didn’t happen.”
“I can hardly forget that my legs don’t work.”
“But you’re excellent at pretending life is wonderful.”
Garrett scowled. “So you invited me to help Jade and to the devil with the railroad?”
Marcus squeezed Garrett’s shoulder. “I need you, Garr, and I truly believe helping her will help us.”
Garrett sighed, reached up, and squeezed Marcus’s hand. “Explain what you need me to do.”
Marcus ran a hand through his hair and swallowed the welling of emotion choking him—his love for Garrett and his remorse over his condition combined suddenly with a new and irrational fear for Jade. He cleared his throat. “Jade doesn’t prevaricate well. She rarely has to; she’s honestly sincere and trusting. But when I mention the railroad, no matter how she tries to hide her fear—which is driving me crazy—she can’t.”
“Given all that, what’s my next step, oh master sleuth?”
“Mock me if you will, but your job is important. I want you to learn everything about Jade and her grandmother that you can. I wanted you here because Jade’s downtrodden women will be more comfortable with a man who’s safe.”
“Ouch, damn it!”
“Because you’re confined to a wheelchair, for heaven’s sake. You saw the way Abigail trembled earlier. Most of Jade’s charges are used to savages who beat them and throw them down stairs. They’ll assume you’re incapable of overcoming them—with brutality, I mean—because you seem weaker than they are. You’re sure to inspire any number of feminine instincts. They’ll want to give you their attention, protect you, see that you’re comfortable, listen to you, talk to you. They’ll want to give you whatever you need.”
“
Oh?”
“I threw that in to cheer you up.”
Garrett tempered his frown with a near smile. “Thank you for explaining.”
“I intended no insult.”
“I’m less piqued, given your logic.”
Proper Scoundrel Page 9
