His Rebellious Lass

by Callie Hutton

  “Good afternoon. Please have Cook send in a light repast to the library.” Cam took Bridget’s hand after she was freed of her coat and bonnet. With their fingers intertwined, they walked the short distance from the entrance hall to the library.

  Cam led her to the settee in front of the cozy fire and returned to his desk. With the shaft of papers he’d been working on for a couple of days, he joined her. “I have some ideas here.” He took a quick glance at her. “If you like them, that is.”

  Bridget continued to stare at him as she took the papers from his hand. “You have been working on this?”

  “Yes. As I told you, I want to help. But you are in charge,” he quickly added. He waved at the papers. “These are some ideas about needed furniture and where to obtain it.”

  She studied the documents, flipping the pages as she read it all. “Impressive.” She smiled and laid the papers on her lap. “Frankly, I could use the help. I’ve been so busy trying to do everything and remember all that is necessary to get the house up and running that I haven’t had time for much else.”

  “Do you have a budget?”

  “Budget?”

  He tried not to smile. Bridget’s heart was definitely in the right place, but at least she acknowledged that she needed help. After years of managing his various estates and overseeing his stewards and man of business, he had quite a bit of experience and ideas on how to go about setting up the house.

  No matter how many mistakes she made, he would still allow her free rein and support her. This was her dream, her project, and he would never again threaten to take it away from her. “Perhaps we can work on one together?”

  She seemed relieved. “Yes. That is a good idea. I am quite adept at hiring staff, because I did that duty for my father when he was alive. I might also have some skill in decorating and furnishing, but the finances baffle me. We also need to come up with an idea on how, and who, to approach about donating money. And how to keep the house hidden from unwanted visitors.”

  He rested his back against the settee and casually rested his arm along the top. When she didn’t move away, he began playing with the hair that had fallen from her chignon. Bloody hell, even that little bit of contact made him hard.

  Take it slow.

  They put their heads together while enjoying the light meal Cook sent in and worked out a reasonable budget. He had to try very hard to keep quiet and let her discover things he saw right away.

  The long clock in the corner struck seven. They both looked up, surprised. “Oh, my. I had no idea it was that late.”

  He took her hand and held to it his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles. “Stay for dinner?”

  She hopped up and shook out her skirts. “No. I think it best if I return home.”

  He climbed to his feet, holding in his temper. “This is your home.”

  “Don’t do this, Cam.”

  He took in a deep breath. She was right. Rushing her would not serve his purpose. “May I offer a suggestion?”

  “What?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “It is apparent we need to discuss much more. Also, you will be busy with the contractor. I can help, if you allow me to seek out furnishings. Even though the prior owner left some items, you will need many more beds to accommodate all the women you hope to help.”

  “I would accept that.” She stretched. “Can you arrange for your carriage to return me?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “I have never been comfortable with you spending the night in that neighborhood, Bridget.”

  “You sent two footmen with me.”

  “Yes. But they’re not me. You don’t realize how dangerous the area is for a woman like you.”

  “Me? What about all the women we expect to house? Do they not count?”

  “You are a lady of Quality. It is apparent from everything about you, from your well-cut clothing to your expensive half boots. Anyone looking to make a few coins would go after you much quicker than any of the other women in the neighborhood, who are trying to stretch every sixpence they earn.”

  She raised her chin. “There is a lock on the door.”

  How to make her understand no lock on the door would prevent someone with nefarious purposes from climbing through a window. “What if I spent the night there also?”

  Bridget shook her head furiously. “No. It does me no good to move out of your house—”

  “Our house—”

  “—if you are going to follow me there.”

  Her cheeks flushed a bright red, and her breathing increased. He hated having to back off, since everything protective in him rebelled. But he could not undo all the good that had come from today. He dipped his head. “Very well.”

  …

  Bridget was still unsettled from the day. She’d barely gotten over Cam jumping in to help her. The most amazing part of the day had been how he’d allowed her to take the lead and hadn’t foisted his own ideas and opinions on her.

  She dared not, in her foolishness, allow herself to think he’d done that because he cared for her. Perhaps the entire thing had been his way of strengthening his honor and position in Society, because it would soon become known that she had left him the morning after their wedding. Even with the old Season far behind them and the new Season months away, gossip spread among the ton like an overflowing river.

  The ride to the women’s house was quiet as she went over the happenings of the day. Cam spent the time gazing out the window and watching her. She could never allow him to spend the night at The Sanctuary. There was no doubt in her mind that if he did so, he would end up in her bed. As small and uncomfortable as the dilapidated old thing was.

  Not that she would have not wanted him to, but there were still too many unsaid words and hurt feelings between them to allow that to happen. If only he wasn’t so handsome and affected her in such a way that she lost all good judgment when he was near. And if he kissed her! Well, it was better if he escorted her home and returned to his house.

  Our house.

  He’d been certain to mention that, but the women’s house felt more like home than Campbell Townhouse.

  The carriage stopped in front of the building, and Cam flipped his coattails back to reveal a pistol tucked into the waistband of his pants. He stepped out, looked around the surrounding area, and then reached in for her.

  She shivered, whether from the threat of danger, the cold, or his touch, she didn’t know. He grabbed her elbow and hurried her up the stairs. Once they were inside, he went from room to room and checked the windows.

  Next he huddled with the two footmen and, after a lengthy discussion, walked over to where she stood. “Are you certain you don’t want me to stay?”

  Yes, I desperately want you to stay, but if you do I will fall under your spell and lose myself again.

  “No. I will be fine.”

  He wrapped her in his arms, the scent of starched linen, horses, and male emanating from him. He lowered his head and took her lips in a kiss that started soft and then turned to fiery passion. By the time she pulled free, they were both panting.

  “I will be back tomorrow.”

  She nodded, still dazed from all the emotions and feelings running through her body. With a tap on the tip of her nose, he walked out the door, closing it softly. His voice rang out. “Lock the door.”

  She hurried over and flipped the lock then leaned against the wood, her eyes closed.

  …

  The next morning, Bridget rose from the only bed in the house and wandered to the window that looked out to the street below.

  She frowned at Cam’s carriage parked in front of the building. She checked the small clock on the table next to her bed. Seven o’clock. He was up and about this early?

  She performed a quick wash and dressed then hurried down the stairs, still pinning up her hair.
She unlocked the door and stepped out just as Cam was leaving the coach. From the look of him he hadn’t been home all night.

  His gait was a bit crooked, like a man who’d slept crouched up. His hair was a mess, his clothes wrinkled, and the shadow of a beard covered the lower part of his face. She placed her hands on her hips and regarded his sorry-looking self with a smirk. “Have you been here all night?”

  He flashed that crooked smile that always set off butterflies in her stomach. “Guilty.”

  She pushed the door back to allow him to enter. “Why?”

  He stepped inside and pulled her into his arms. “I tried, I really did. I made it all the way home, and before I could have the carriage returned to the mews I had visions of you being kidnapped again, and I turned right around and came back.”

  “I have been here alone for three nights.”

  “Not alone. The footmen were here, and they both had guns. I wanted to give you time away from me, hoping you would allow me back into your life if I left you to think things over. But I could no longer stand not being here to see to your protection myself.” They made their way to the empty drawing room and closed the door against the footmen. Whatever needed to be said between them did not need an audience.

  “Is Davenport still locked up in the basement at the inn?”

  “He was released after the magistrate spoke with him. Those small-town justices are in awe of lords, regardless of their wrongdoings. However, instead of making him wallow in debtor’s prison, I escorted our nemesis to Southampton where he boarded a boat. I stayed until it left the harbor with instructions to the captain that Davenport was not to leave the ship until it docked on America’s shores.”

  He cupped her face with his warm hand. Shivers started again. She must really see that the fires were lit soon. “Just one day without you was enough to tell me what I’ve been fighting for months.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Yes?”

  “’Twas no duty or hardship to marry you, Bridget. I love you. I’ve probably loved you for quite some time. I don’t want us living in separate houses. I don’t want to command you and ignore your wishes. It won’t be easy for me. I am used to being obeyed without question, and I will need you to show me how to change.”

  She tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Why not put the money that came to me with our marriage in my name? That would be a start.”

  The laughter in his eyes warmed her. He pulled her into his arms. “Done.”

  “What?”

  “I already did that.”

  She was stunned. He really did want to change, and that made her love him more. However, there was still one thing that troubled her. She drew back and stared at him. “What about your charges of my lack of virtue?”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I was so wrong. So very wrong, but even if the situation had been what I thought, it doesn’t matter. As long as I am the last man to hold you in his arms and love you, that’s enough for me.”

  “Oh, Cam.” Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice hitched. “I love you, too, and want a marriage like you described. We should be partners, not just in this endeavor, but in life.” Bridget ran her palm over his rough beard and tugged his head down for a kiss.

  And her world exploded.

  They tore at each other’s clothes until they were skin to skin and lying together on the pile of garments they’d shed. He took her with love and caring, with fire and passion, showing her with his hands and mouth how much he loved her.

  And with my body, I thee worship.

  She loved him back, exploring him with her hands and mouth until they both lay exhausted, flat on their backs, hands entwined, staring at the ceiling.

  “Will you come home?”

  “To our house?”

  “Yes, wife.”

  “Indeed, husband.”

  Epilogue

  A few weeks after Bridget had returned home, Cam took her hand in his and escorted her down the stairs to the drawing room to await their guests.

  They were hosting a dinner for a few of Cam’s fellow members in Parliament, who would be departing to the country for holiday.

  The next day he and Bridget were also headed to his country estate for Christmastide. They would return when Parliament resumed and the new Season began. While they were gone, the contractor would work on The Sanctuary so they would be able to open it after they returned.

  He strode across the room and poured himself a brandy and a sherry for her. She’d announced a few days before that she was with child, and now her favorite Scotch whisky seemed to upset her stomach.

  A child.

  He still felt a tightening in his chest at the thought. After numerous talks with his sisters, he no longer believed he would become his father and turn into an ogre after a child was born. But he’d thought for so long that he would never have children that the idea was still frightening. He worried about not being a good enough father, but then he looked at Bridget and knew she would be a wonderful mother and would never allow him to be anything but the best parent.

  The past few weeks had been the finest in his life. During the day they worked together on their plans, the excitement in his wife growing. She’d been disappointed to learn it would take some time to ready the house, but at least it was in the not-so-distant future.

  “Cam, I think I made a bad decision asking Cook to make lamb chops. Not everyone likes lamb.” Bridget chewed her lip as she took the sherry glass from him.

  “Lamb chops are fine, my love. And if someone does not like them, there are so many courses planned they will be unable to walk to their carriage after the meal, anyway.” He sat alongside her and tucked her close to his body. “How is our son today?”

  “Our daughter is fine. It is still much too early to feel any movement, but she lets me know every morning that she’s there and not happy with whatever it was I ate the night before.”

  “My lord, Lord Stevenson and Lord Appleby have arrived.” Dobson’s announcement in his usual staid manner was quickly followed by the men’s entrance. This was to be an all-male dinner, those with families having already sent them off to the country.

  …

  As the group gathered and began to talk and wave their hands in the air, paying her no attention, Bridget took the time to think about the missive she’d received the day before. Mr. Manning, Papa’s solicitor, had forwarded a letter to her in Papa’s handwriting. Mr. Manning explained that he had been holding it—per her papa’s instructions—until she notified him of her marriage, so he could release the funds.

  Opening the letter with shaky hands, she’d been dumbfounded by the time she finished reading, before she’d folded it and placed it into the pink-and-blue ribbon box where she kept special papers.

  The letter had said:

  My Dear Daughter,

  If you are reading this letter, it is because you are married. Happily so, I hope. I know you desired your freedom to do what you wished with the money left to you, but I had other hopes and dreams for my only child.

  After all, daughter, after I am gone, you are alone in the world.

  You might have wondered why I never changed your guardianship from the late Lord Campbell. After my old friend’s death, it got me thinking about my own demise and what would happen to you. I knew the current Lord Campbell to be a good man. Someone who would take care of you and possibly even love you.

  He had a reputation, I know, but I had someone send me word of him over the years after his father died. Lord Campbell would make you a fine husband. He has enough strength to allow you to be yourself and not crush your fine spirit.

  I hoped if I threw the two of you together you would both feel something special for each other.

  Please don’t harbor any ill feelings toward my heir, Laird Evan MacNeil. He visited with me when you were away at school
and I found that although he is a gruff man, he has a tender heart. I know he will take good care of our lands and what is left of our clan.

  Be happy, daughter, and surround yourself with children to love and who will love you. If my instincts were correct, you have a strong, loving husband in Lord Campbell to stand beside you for the rest of your life.

  Your loving Papa

  The shock of that letter had stayed with her ever since. At least that had explained why Papa had been so neglectful in changing the guardianship. She smiled at his treachery.

  The dinner passed with all the shouting from the men bringing on a headache. It was a great deal of relief when they all gathered their things and left.

  “Brrr, it’s cold.” Cam shut the door as the last of the vehicles rolled away.

  Bridget came to an abrupt stop and placed her hand over her tummy. “I think our daughter just moved.”

  “No, it’s too soon.” Cam said as he led her upstairs. “’Twas most likely indigestion.”

  She turned to him. “How do you know? How many children have you carried?”

  He bent and scooped her into his arms, taking the rest of the steps two at a time. “I don’t need to have carried a child—crazy idea—but it’s still too soon.”

  Cam unfastened the latch on the bedroom door and pushed it open with his hip. He strode to the bed and gently laid her down. “Now let me see what you felt.” He placed his hand on her belly.

  “Do you feel that?” She grinned up at him.

  “I think it’s those lamb chops Cook made for dinner.” He stood and removed his cravat and shrugged out of his jacket.

  Bridget knelt on the bed, pulling the pins from her hair. “It is not indigestion.”

  He twirled his finger in the air for her to turn around. He unfastened the back of her gown and made quick work of the strings on her stays. Leaning over her, he pushed the cascade of curls off her shoulders and cupped her sensitive breasts in his hands. He kissed the soft skin where her neck and shoulder met and murmured into her ear, “I think we should agree to disagree, my love. We have much more interesting things to consider this evening.”