Once a Rebel

by Mary Jo Putney

  When he was coherent again, he said in a rusty voice, “If your intent was to distract me, it certainly worked. But what about you?” He caressed the provocative curves of her waist and hip, thinking how wondrous a woman’s body was.

  She tried to brush him away. “We can discuss that once we’re home and in our very fine bed.”

  “No. Now.” Despite her willingness to wait, he sensed her arousal in her quickened breath and flushed cheeks. He needed to give her the intimate pleasure she’d given him. Doing that would bind them even closer, and he needed that closeness desperately if he was to survive having his world turned upside down again.

  His hand slid under the hem of her gown, then glided up her stockinged calf. Silken seduction. She gasped and rolled back a little, her legs separating to his touch. His own breath quickened as he touched intimate heat and moisture. They knew each other’s bodies well by now, and it was so easy, so satisfying, to bring her to the kind of shattering completion she’d given him.

  He caught her cry in his mouth as he kissed her, inhaling her passion and returning it to her with his own. If he was a marquess, she was his marchioness, his match, his mate.

  Most of all, she was his savior.

  As her silent convulsions ended, he drew her against him, her head on his shoulder again. Wise man, Kirkland, to have a sofa in his study. It made misbehaving so much easier.

  As he brushed back her shining apricot hair, he said softly, “Were you ever told the whole story of my mother and father? It was a great scandal.”

  “I heard that she was very beautiful, of Scandinavian blood, and that you look very like her,” Callie said with equal softness. “That she was an actress and that she died when you were very young, about four. When I was a child, I simply accepted those facts and didn’t think to wonder more.”

  “My father fell insanely in lust for her and they married in a matter of weeks, or so I’m told.” It was hard to imagine his father feeling such passion, but Gordon’s birth was proof. “The lust burned out quickly and, being the man he was, he blamed her for the fact that he’d married an actress. He began taking mistresses, which enraged her. She might have looked like a cool northern blonde, but apparently she blazed with fire and temper. She left my father and took a lover of her own. My father was outraged and planning to divorce her when she and her lover died in a carriage accident.”

  Callie winced. “Surely you didn’t know all that when you were so young!”

  “I knew my father despised me, but not why.” He smiled humorlessly. “A boy at my first school told me the stories about my mother. You can imagine what he called her. I was expelled for half killing him. Insults about her were the cause of several of my expulsions. I scarcely remembered her, but I couldn’t bear to hear her slandered.”

  “I knew none of this,” Callie whispered, appalled.

  “I couldn’t speak of it. Not even to you,” he said simply.

  “My family’s domestic tragedies were much quieter than yours.” Her fingers moved restlessly at his waist. “My mother endured endless pregnancies trying to give my father his male heir, but he was cursed with healthy daughters and sickly sons. It was such a relief when my brother Marcus was born and he was a healthy, jolly little boy.” Callie sighed. “But my father wasn’t content with his heir. He needed a spare. That next pregnancy killed my mother.”

  Gordon swore under his breath. “How can a man do that to his wife? Your life is infinitely more important than having a male heir. Though I’d like to have a daughter or two that look like you.”

  “You wouldn’t mind if she had red-blond hair that has been touched by the devil?” Callie asked.

  “Never.” He smiled briefly before shaking his head. “No wonder neither of us wants to return to our childhood homes. We both had reason to escape.”

  “Going back won’t be so bad since we’ll be together. I’m certainly not letting you go to Kingston Court alone!” She reluctantly pulled away from his embrace and rose from the sofa. “By tomorrow, we’ll be more accustomed to the thought. For now, let’s go upstairs and listen to fine music. It will soothe us both.”

  “It’s either that or fall asleep on this rather undersized sofa, which would be rude.” He stood also and began straightening his appearance.

  Callie smoothed back her hair with both hands, using some magic that allowed her to look as if she hadn’t just been doing what she’d done. Then she smiled and took his arm, and they headed upstairs into a healing river of great music.

  * * *

  Callie found herself relaxing during the concert. As Richard had told her, Kirkland and his wife were superb pianists, especially when they played together on the same instrument. Though Callie was no musician, she could tell that their playing was love expressed as music.

  There were indeed ices.

  She and Richard left after the refreshments, pleading fatigue, which was true, though it was more emotional than physical. Arms around each other’s waists like young lovers, they walked the blocks to Mount Row in silence.

  When they reached home and bed, they made love again, this time with slow tenderness. Richard fell asleep swiftly afterward, his arm around her, but Callie lay awake. He’d come back into her life with an easy confidence and a mastery of life’s challenges that she had desperately needed then.

  But tonight he’d been vulnerable in a way she’d never seen before in all the years they’d known each other. For the first time she realized that he needed her as much as she needed him.

  At what point did friendship become what the world defined as love?

  Chapter 38

  The clerk opened the door to the inner office and announced, “Mr. Roberts, Lord Kirkland and Lord and Lady George Audley are here to see you.”

  The gray-haired solicitor looked up, surprised, but he recovered swiftly. Rising, he said, “This is an unexpected pleasure. Lord George, I assume you’re my missing Kingston heir?”

  “I am.” Gordon offered his hand. “Lord Kirkland and my wife are here to testify to my identity.”

  “It’s true that you don’t resemble any of your family, but I believe your mother was of Norwegian blood?”

  If the lawyer had shown any hint of disdain, Gordon would have been tempted to hit him, but Roberts’s expression was neutral. “She was, and I inherited her coloring.”

  “Very distinctive, and it matches the descriptions I’ve had of you.” Roberts gestured to the chairs. “Please, sit down. I’m sure this discussion will be a lengthy one.” He glanced at the clerk. “Tea, coffee, and refreshments, please.”

  After Kirkland and Callie testified that they’d known Gordon for many years and there was no question of his identity, the lawyer apologetically asked for a handwriting sample. That matched the occasional letters Gordon had sent over the years, and the issue of his identity was settled. The family lawyer accepted him as the new Marquess of Kingston and would start on the paperwork needed to affirm his inheritance.

  After that, Roberts gave him a swift overview of the family properties and income. Gordon hadn’t realized how much of the Kingston revenue came from the Lancashire coal mines. He was pleased to see that there was indeed a manor in Hertfordshire that would be a convenient retreat from London.

  After glancing through the long list of properties, Gordon asked, “Do my younger brothers know I’m alive, or does Eldon think he’s inherited?”

  “I’m not sure,” Roberts admitted. “I always reported your occasional messages to your father, but he forbade me to mention them to others in your family.”

  “Probably hoping I’d die somewhere far away,” Gordon said acerbically.

  “Perhaps,” the lawyer said uncomfortably. “I hadn’t received any of your letters since your father died, and I don’t know if he’d ever informed his heir of your continued existence. I did send my son up to Kingston Court to attend your oldest brother’s funeral and to explain the legal situation to your younger brothers.” He gave a swift smile.
“I’m glad you presented yourself here since I wasn’t sure how to go about looking for you.”

  “Kirkland gets the credit for making your life easier. I was quite accustomed to ignoring all family news.” Resigning himself to the inevitable, he continued. “I’d best travel up to Lancashire before Eldon gets too attached to the possibility of being the new Lord Kingston.”

  “Is he apt to make trouble?” Kirkland asked.

  Gordon shrugged. “I really don’t know. I barely remember him. But he and his younger brother, Francis, always seemed more reasonable than my older brothers.”

  “Given the length of time you’ve been absent, it may be difficult for Lord Eldon to believe you’re alive,” Roberts admitted. “So traveling up there soon is advisable.”

  Wishing he could just give the damned title and inheritance to Eldon, Gordon said, “I’ll make sure that he and Francis are well taken care of.” The estate certainly had enough wealth to ensure that his brothers could live very comfortably.

  As the three of them left Roberts’s office, Gordon thanked Kirkland for his aid. “Not a problem,” Kirkland said. “Let me know if there is anything else I can help with. I have a fair amount of experience navigating the shoals of London officialdom.”

  “I may take you up on that,” Gordon said. Looking down at Callie, he added, “For now, we go to Lancashire.”

  Callie took his hand. “To get it over with!”

  “Please keep me posted on your progress.” Kirkland tipped his hat. “You’ll get used to this soon, Lord Kingston. You might even find you enjoy the challenges of your new position.”

  That was probably true, but Gordon still wished he wouldn’t have to.

  Chapter 39

  It had been fifteen years since Gordon had traveled this road, but he remembered it well. When they approached the top of the hill that overlooked the valley containing Long Lake and Kingston Court, he signaled the postilion to stop the chaise. As he opened the door, he said to Callie, “Time for a brief survey of our future.”

  She stretched, then climbed out after him. “I’ll join you. After three days of rattling around in a coach, I welcome all opportunities to stretch my legs.”

  Knowing they’d reach Kingston Court today, they’d both taken pains with their clothing. If there was one thing Gordon had learned in his checkered career, it was that dressing for the part was halfway to convincing people that he belonged in the role. If he was to be a marquess, he’d damn well look the part, and he did.

  But he paled next to Callie, whose expert remodeling of a forest green gown with gold embroidered trim made her look like a queen. A glorious one, like Elizabeth, who had also had red in her hair. “One of these days there will be time enough for you to visit a modiste for a new wardrobe,” he said wryly.

  She laughed, tightening her Kashmiri shawl around her shoulders against the autumn wind. “I hope so, but in the meantime, think how much money I’m saving you!”

  “Since we don’t need to be frugal, I’ll have to spend any wardrobe savings on jewels to adorn you, not that you need jewels to look beautiful.”

  “I’d rather have a really good riding horse.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said fondly. “You can have both.”

  He draped an arm around Callie’s shoulders and they strolled to the crest of the hill. The day had been overcast, but in late afternoon the sun had come out and the lake below gleamed like a mirror.

  Callie said, “Rush Hall is just over that hill. Maybe tomorrow we can ride over and see if some members of my family are in residence. I left Elinor so quickly that I didn’t ask about anyone else.”

  “We’ll do that. I wonder if the path we followed between our houses is still well worn, or if it’s grown over.” He fell silent, thinking of the easy joy of their friendship, and the difficulties of every other part of his childhood.

  “We Brookes always took a different road into our valley, so I don’t think I’ve ever seen this view of your house before,” Callie said. “It looks really Gothic! Will there be bats and rattling chains?”

  He smiled at the way she countered his tension. The rambling family seat did look rather Gothic, particularly the oldest section, which was a tower left over from a medieval castle. The stubby but suitably threatening tower stood on a steep hill overlooking the unimaginatively named Long Lake. The master’s quarters were in the tower, with a view of the water.

  Later additions to the structure rambled down from the tower. That side of the hill was less steep, but it lacked the dramatic views of the lake. “I’m glad my room was in the newer section of the Court,” he said. “It was still damp and musty, but at least there were no bats, and any rattling chains were probably the sounds I made when I slipped out illegally at night.”

  She said warningly, “Having a strong sense of the order of things, the servants will make us sleep in the master’s rooms in the old tower. Grand furniture and smoking fireplaces, I suspect. I never visited the tower.”

  “I never saw much of the master’s rooms, but I did explore the lower tower. The stone walls are so thick that there’s a secret staircase hidden inside.”

  “Really? I wish I’d known!” she exclaimed.

  “You wouldn’t like it. The passage is very small, built for our shorter ancestors. The staircase runs all the way down to the cellar level. It was either an escape route in the event of siege, or a way for lecherous Audleys to descend and seduce the housemaids.”

  “Would there be spiders?” she asked with mock anxiety.

  “Almost certainly. Along with other small creatures that rustle around in the darkness.” His hand tightened on hers. “But we won’t stay in the tower long. You can look for a location for our new house while I visit the tenant farms and mines and have meetings with the managers of the family businesses.”

  “I already know where we should build. Remember that protected dell between our family estates? It’s on Kingston land, it’s lovely, and it doesn’t get hit by the worst of the winds from the Irish Sea.” She looked thoughtful. “Building will take time, so I’ll look for a property we can live in until the new house is finished.”

  “A cottage will do as long as it’s away from the Court.” It was time to return to the coach, but Gordon hesitated, his gaze moving over the valley. “It’s strange. I don’t want to live in Kingston Court—I have far too many difficult memories of my childhood here. And yet, this valley feels like home as nowhere else does.”

  Callie bit her lower lip. “I know what you mean. The light, the hills, everything about Lancashire shaped our growing years. I’m happy to be back in England, delighted to have a home in London, and I’m oddly pleased that we’ll have a home here as well.”

  “It will be a beautiful, modern, comfortable home,” he promised. “A good use for some of the Kingston wealth.”

  “Bathing chambers with hot water and deep tubs?” she asked hopefully.

  “Absolutely.” He grinned at her. “Tubs big enough for two. If there is one thing I remember from my childhood, it’s that managing an extravagant fortune is a lot of work. But since there’s no help for it, we might as well at least have decadent bathtubs.”

  Laughing, she took his arm and they returned to the chaise. As they drove down into the valley and toward the Court, Gordon observed, “The coal seam fire has spread.”

  He gestured to where a thin plume of white smoke trickled from the ground. “There are several places smoking now. That one ahead is quite close to the house.”

  “How long has the fire been burning?” Callie asked. “It’s been smoldering for as long as I can remember.”

  “Almost forty years, I think.” He thought back to his childhood again. “Mining can be ugly, but I loved going down into the coal tunnels and learning about the steam engines that pumped the water out. Didn’t I take you down a time or two?”

  “Once. I did not share your enjoyment of filthy, suffocating spaces.”

  “That’s right. You could
n’t wait to get out, so I never invited you to come with me again. I was the mine engineer’s pet because I was so interested in his equipment, and it served me well later.” He smiled, reminiscing. “My experience in the mines got me the job as captain of the Duke of Ashton’s experimental steam packet. By that time, I’d done quite a bit of sailing, and I knew steam engines, so I was well qualified.”

  “So that’s how you ended up driving the ship that rescued Lady Kirkland,” Callie said with interest. “How did Ashton come to hire you?”

  “That’s a long story for another day since we’ve reached our destination.” He gazed out the window as their chaise drove under the ancient stone arch into the central courtyard. The tower loomed over one side while the newer sections and outbuildings ran down the hill to the left.

  The carriage rattled to a stop and they descended to the cobblestones. With Callie on his arm, Gordon walked to the door of his ancestral home and rang the great bell. The deep gong echoed like the voice of doom. Though he didn’t like the house any better than he ever had, entering with Callie beside him was an improvement on the past.

  The footman who admitted them was young and dressed very traditionally in knee breeches and powdered wig. Gordon hadn’t had time to have cards printed, so before the footman could ask who he was, he said, “I am the new Lord Kingston. In the past I’ve been known as Lord George Audley. Are my younger brothers in residence?”

  The footman was young and he’d never met Gordon, but he wasn’t stupid. He probably knew there was a long absent middle brother who would be the heir if he was alive. Eyes widening, the footman bowed deeply. “They are taking predinner sherry, my lord. I shall escort you to them.”

  Ugly house, ugly furnishings, drafty passageways. It was as bad as Gordon remembered, but at least he didn’t have to worry about running into his father. “Feel free to kill him. I have better sons.”

  Callie must be remembering those words, too, because her hand was locked tight on his arm. She looked very beautiful and every inch an aristocrat. But even if she’d been wearing flour sacks, she would look like a marchioness. He didn’t think he could have tolerated being here without her beside him.