by Heather Boyd
She tensed.
“I am in awe of your forethought,” he promised.
“Really?”
Since that single word was drenched in sarcastic tones, he hastened to explain. “Indeed. There is nothing worse than suffering the company of someone you routinely disagree with.”
“I don’t want to sit by you, either.”
Adam laughed but pointed to a different name on her chart. He leaned close to whisper in her ear, “Lord Farrington bores me to death, and you’ve put him way over there. I cannot thank you enough!”
“You’re welcome.”
“You truly are a gifted hostess.” He drew back and set his hands on the chair back. “Ever considered managing your own family?”
“I am.”
He chuckled. The woman was impossible. “I meant have you considered taking on a new household. A husband.”
Her head lifted, chin jutting out. “No.”
“Shame,” he murmured. He was disappointed. “I’m sure a man could grow accustomed to the idea of being managed so well if there were other compensations to be had.”
Her brow furrowed, even if she kept her eyes on her papers. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
Adam pursed his lips, and then leaned closer again. “Sex, Becca. Hot, sweaty sex that lasts till dawn. Surely you remember how good it felt?”
Her lips parted, and she bounced to her feet. They were eye to eye then, but Rebecca was stuck between him and the table. She seemed at a loss for words.
Or had she no idea that sex could be so good? She had married an older fellow, a man well past his prime, after all, so perhaps she didn’t.
“You should not speak to me like that,” she finally said, cheeks turning a fiery red. Excitement or anger, Adam couldn’t tell yet.
“What can I say, you bring out the devil in me. Figuring out what you want, what you desire, is going to be a challenge.” He grinned.
“I desire you to find another to torment.”
“But I like you,” Adam confessed, and saw her eyes go wide with shock at his words. It was true. She fascinated him. “Invite me to your bedchamber tonight and find out if I can meet your high standards under the covers.”
Her lips compressed into a tight line briefly and then she scowled. “I would never invite a scoundrel into my bedchamber.”
Scowls could be attractive on the right face Adam discovered then. Rebecca Warner was no shy, biddable widow, eager to impress him—a wealthy earl. She had this fierce inner fire that rarely saw the light of day but when it did he was enthralled by her vibrancy. When she spun around, he leaned close to whisper, “Who needs a bedchamber? Any wall will do when the impulse strikes. One night soon, you should give me a chance to make you happy. After ten any evening would suit me very well. I’ll be waiting with breathless anticipation for your signal. In the meantime, I’ll keep you company.”
The duke had said proximity was important.
Adam collected his book, settled into the same chair he’d occupied last night, and began to read. If not Rebecca, then some other lady would warm to him eventually. For now, he would practice on the most appealing lady to hand.
While he read, he could swear Mrs. Warner continued to glare at him for several minutes.
He refused to look up. He’d thrown down the gauntlet. In precise terms, so she had no doubts about what he initially hoped for.
He was still waiting for an invite half an hour later, when there was a knock on the door.
“Yes, what is it, Mr. Brown?” Mrs. Warner asked before he could.
“A special delivery for Lord Rafferty, madam.”
Adam came to his feet. “Send her in, Brown,”
“Her?” Mrs. Warner queried.
He tossed his book aside. “My daughter.”
The light of Adam’s life, Ava, rushed into the room. He grunted at the impact of her small body against his but tossed her up into his arms easily enough. “You got my message?”
“I did.” The girl kissed his cheek loudly and wrapped her arms tightly about his neck. “I thought you were coming home yesterday.”
“I had a tiny mishap,” he told her, patting her back. “Nothing to worry about.”
She drew back, frowning. Ava had his eyes but her mother’s slighter build, thank heavens. Today, her long hair had been pulled back—but then he noticed what she was wearing, and scowled. “What did I say about wearing those breeches beyond the estate? They are only for fencing lessons.”
“I’m sorry, Papa. Don’t be cross.” She looked so honestly distraught he held his tongue to hear her excuse first. “I had to take my lessons before I left but then the carriage was ready and my luggage loaded. I was already in the carriage before I realized I’d forgotten to change.”
His daughter could be flighty at times, a whirlwind of excitement. He would have preferred she not look like a hoyden, but there was no pretending she wasn’t occasionally.
He reluctantly glanced beyond Ava, expecting to see disapproval. Rebecca and the butler were watching them. The butler was trying not to grin. Rebecca’s expression had become utterly unreadable though.
He eased his daughter down to her feet and turned her about to face the sort of woman Ava might have to impress one day, bracing for the worst possible introduction ever. “Mrs. Warner, I don’t believe you have met my daughter, Lady Ava Croft of Gable Park. Ava, may I introduce Mrs. Rebecca Warner, one of the Duke of Stapleton’s daughters.”
“Oh,” Ava squeaked as she stepped out of his reach.
Rebecca drew closer, eyes skimming over his girl from head to toe—but then a sudden smile burst over her face as she curtsied. “A pleasure, my lady.”
“A pleasure indeed, madam,” Ava replied before dipping into a curtsy that wobbled just a little.
Rebecca’s smile diminished very slowly. “I trust you enjoyed your lesson, my lady?”
“Oh, I did!” Ava told her with unabashed excitement.
“Do you practice the sport often?”
Puzzled by Rebecca’s mild tone, Adam raised his eyes quickly. She seemed not to disapprove—at least not yet.
Ava nodded enthusiastically to the other woman. “Yes, madam. Every day. It’s invigorating exercise.”
Rebecca’s brows lifted a little. “Indeed it is. Have you ever fenced against a real opponent?”
“Only Papa, and only once because I cut him.”
“A shallow cut,” Adam hastened to add. Ava had been upset enough over the incident.
Rebecca clucked her tongue. “You should know better than to fence with real weapons without adequate protection, my lord.”
“I know that now. At the time, I hadn’t realized how quickly my girl could swing the blade. A mistake I have not made again.”
Ava’s face fell. “I may only use wooden swords now.”
“It is not the same, is it?”
Ava shook her head solemnly. “It is not the same at all, madam.”
A soft laugh escaped Rebecca’s lips suddenly. “Mistakes teach us to use better judgment.”
Adam cleared his throat. “His grace allowed me to send for my daughter. She’s going to stay for the wedding.”
“I do wish he’d informed me earlier. Excuse me.” Mrs. Warner turned away to sit at her table again before Adam could decide if she was annoyed or not that his daughter was a late addition to the party. She pulled several sheets of paper toward her and studied them carefully.
Ava edged nearer to him, slipping her hand into his larger one. “Is something the matter, Papa?”
“Nothing is wrong, my dear,” Mrs. Warner answered for Adam. “I just need to decide where best to place you in the house. With all the guests coming for the wedding, it’s a little complicated.”
“She could have my chambers.”
“That will not be necessary, my lord. Besides, I would then have to find somewhere else to put you.” Rebecca made some notes on a page. “There. Brown, will you place Lady Ava in the Primrose bedchamber?
The room next to mine.”
Adam stepped forward. If his daughter slept in the chamber next to Rebecca Warner’s, any seduction attempt would fail before it could truly begin. “Ava should be in the nursery.”
“The nursery is currently empty of occupants, and when my brother’s twins arrive, I would most likely move her out anyway for safety’s sake.”
“So it’s true then what they say about the boys?” Devil spawn brats!
“I adore my family,” Rebecca warned.
Adam bit his tongue. He hardly had a perfect child, but he was thankful Rebecca thought to protect Ava from her boisterous nephews. “If you think it best.”
“I do,” Rebecca began. “Now, let’s get you settled upstairs, my lady.”
“I’ll come with you,” Adam said quickly. While he was in that part of the house, he might be able to determine if his hope to visit Mrs. Warner’s bedchamber one night was well and truly lost.
Rebecca seemed highly suspicious of his suggestion but nodded. “Very well, if you must.”
“Oh, I must.” When Ava skipped ahead to the door, Adam pulled Rebecca near to whisper, “I’m still waiting for that invitation.”
She stared at him. “Are you not forgetting something, my lord?”
Adam blinked.
“Your book? I should hate for it to be returned to my father’s vast library by mistake.”
Since Adam had not yet finished reading it, he would hate that, too. He turned back to fetch it and when turned around again, Rebecca and his daughter were gone without him.
He had to hand it to her, Rebecca was turning out to be a worthy sparring partner. He hurried to catch up.
Chapter 6
Over the next week, Lord Rafferty proved to be a surprisingly good father to Lady Ava. He was affectionate, indulged her every now and then, and the girl did as she was told. Mostly.
Right now, Lady Ava was throwing sticks into the stream, as boys were often prone to do, and watching them float away. Lord Rafferty was helping.
Truth be told, Rebecca wasn’t sure what to make of the earl anymore.
He was no longer flirting with her, but still dogging her steps whenever she stepped from the manor. He had been a perfect gentleman in every respect—which she found confusing. She had begun to think she had imagined his interest. “I must return to the manor soon.”
“Oh no, just one more,” Lady Ava cried, and rushed off into the nearby wood to hunt for fallen branches again.
“It’s always just one more,” Rafferty complained.
“You’re the one letting her take advantage of you,” Rebecca noted.
“She has no one else to take advantage of,” Lord Rafferty stated as he joined her.
“You cannot make up for lack of mothering by spoiling the girl, or letting her run wild in those woods,” she warned as she turned to watch the girl dart around the nearest trees.
“Trying not to,” Rafferty murmured.
It had rained last night, and the hem of Lady Ava’s skirt had become damp long ago. The girl would need to change into a fresher gown when they returned to the manor. Rebecca had assigned her own maid to look after the girl, since Lord Rafferty’s summons hadn’t brought one of his own. Rebecca had only heard good things about Lady Ava Croft from Nancy, which confirmed her own conclusions that the girl had excellent manners despite having such a father.
Rebecca felt a slight brush against the back of her hand and jerked it up to her chest, fearing an insect had landed on her. But there was nothing on her glove when she looked, and she forced out the breath she’d drawn.
“Lovely day,” Lord Rafferty murmured, inhaling deeply.
“Rain on the horizon,” she noted with a frown, hoping the dark, heavy clouds would miss the estate entirely. Parts of the celebrations were to be conducted out of doors.
Lord Rafferty began to laugh.
“What?”
“I knew you were going to say that,” he promised. “I’ve never met a woman so keen to point out the hazards around them.”
She put her hands on her hips to set the record straight. “If it rains, the roads will become more soaked and delay the wedding guests.”
“Why is that a problem? The bride and groom really only care about tying the knot.”
“We’re still awaiting the special license Father promised Jessica.”
“Ah.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.”
“I do want my sister to marry.”
“Of course you do,” he said soothingly. Then he blew in the direction of the rain clouds. “Do go away, clouds.”
Rebecca shook her head and looked away as Lady Ava burst out of the trees, dragging a large tree limb behind her. It seemed heavy, but Ava’s eyes were fixed on the nearby stream. Rebecca clucked her tongue in disapproval. “I would prefer she not throw in the trees, my lord.”
“So would I.” He strode off, halted his daughter’s plans, and then threw the branch over his shoulder, returning the thick limb to the woodland.
Lady Ava skipped toward her, grinning. “Father said I should stay with you.”
“Did he now?”
“He said you could teach me how to be a lady. If I listened properly.”
“That is often how it is done with any endeavor.” The girl was sweet. Rebecca glanced down at Lady Ava, feeling a pang of regret. She enjoyed the girl’s company but duty called. “I really must go back to the manor.”
“We’ll come with you,” Lord Rafferty decided as he returned, brushing off his hands.
“Huzzah!” the girl cried. “We can have tea together.”
Ava rushed ahead, darted this way and that as she explored the garden. Although Rebecca expected Lord Rafferty to forge ahead with his daughter, he fell into step beside her.
“Thank you for a lovely walk,” he murmured.
Rebecca inclined her head.
There was a soft brush against the back of her hand again. She glanced down, and Lord Rafferty waved his fingers at her. “Caught me.”
She stopped to stare at him. “What are you doing?”
“It’s called flirting. Maybe you’ve experienced it before?”
“You’re tormenting me. Annoying me. That was definitely not flirting.”
“We each have our own opinions. What did Old Warner do to earn your admiration?”
Rebecca thought about that for only a moment. “We met, and he proposed.”
Rafferty gaped. “And that was enough for you?”
“Yes, of course, it was.”
“That is the most tragic courtship tale I’ve ever heard,” he muttered. “Every woman deserves to be flirted with. Warner certainly cheated you.”
Angered by the comment, Rebecca glared. “Thank you, my lord, for the reminder. I have firsthand knowledge of my husband’s faithlessness, since I caught him in the act. I do not need you to rub it in my face.”
Mortified by what she had just revealed, Rebecca headed toward the manor at a faster pace.
“Wait,” Rafferty called out. “I didn’t mean…”
But Rebecca would not stop. She was angry again, in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. All his talk and false flirtations were cruel. She had been out walking on her own quite happily until Lord Rafferty and his daughter had joined her. Rebecca had even enjoyed the time they’d spent together until that moment. She would have been better served to stay in.
Rebecca heard screams and paused.
Lord Rafferty was suddenly at her side. “What the devil was that?”
When the screaming resumed, Rebecca grinned widely. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure.” She glanced at Lady Ava and regretted they must part now. “Don’t let me spoil your outing with your father, Lady Ava. Excuse me.”
She caught up her skirts and quickened her steps even more.
As she rounded the corner of the house, she saw a familiar traveling carriage on the drive and shook her head at the chaotic scene playing out before her eyes. Her younger brot
her Samuel stood beside the carriage, holding his twin sons by the shirt collars.
The boys were fighting to be free of the restriction and complaining very loudly.
They were also saying her name repeatedly.
“What is this ruckus about?” she called to them.
“Auntie Becca.” The boys, suddenly released, sprinted toward her.
Rebecca dropped low as the boys flung their arms around her neck, nearly knocking her down to the ground with their enthusiasm. “My dear boys. At last, you’ve come.”
Rebecca hugged them both tightly and kissed the tops of their blond heads. Rebecca had helped raise this pair of rascals for a few years after their birth before restlessness had driven Samuel from London with the boys in tow.
They turned their little faces up to hers. “We were in…” twin one began.
“Mupe Bay,” twin two finished.
She cupped their tanned little faces. They did best in the outdoors, with few rules and space to run about. Cooping them up only brought out the worst of their natures. “Did you bring me any seashells this time?”
“We brought you…” twin two began.
“…something much better,” twin one finished, burrowing closer.
“We brought you rocks from Dorset,” Samuel told her as he strolled over to join them with a smile. “Ones with tiny leaves trapped inside.”
She blinked.
The boys dug in their pockets and presented two very dull, flat-sided rocks to her, but as Rebecca squinted, she could make out the shape of some sort of fern leaf there. She could almost imagine they’d been drawn, sketched. “Leaves in rocks? Well, that is unexpected.”
“They are both fascinated by our finds and couldn’t wait to show you their treasures.”
Rebecca nodded, brushing her hands over the boys’ untidy hair. They were always excitable, and they were growing so fast. “I swear you’ve grown inches since I saw you last.”
“Will you measure us?”
She ruffled their hair again fondly. “After dinner tonight, I certainly will.”
“Auntie Jessie!” both cried out suddenly.
The pair shot away toward their other aunt, who had appeared from the shaded lawn across the garden. They were a whirlwind of excitement whenever they arrived anywhere. Later, when the novelty of new faces had ebbed, they would ignore everyone and get into the most trouble.
