by Dawn Brower
Perhaps James was correct. Dom had never been in a similar situation. He didn’t have the first clue what it must me like to sit by helpless as the woman he loved writhed in unimaginable agony. A shudder rolled through him at the very idea. He didn’t envy women and what they had to endure to bring a babe into the world.
“How would Alys feel? Maybe this isn’t so much about you, but more of what she might need.”
James closed his eyes and let out a breath. “I suppose you might be right. She seemed to appreciate my presence at Elizabeth’s birth.” He smiled fondly. “Her extensive vocabulary and inventive curses were almost enough to geld a man.”
His words brought to mind Rosanna’s early comments. Dom didn’t know anything about James’s wife. “Doesn’t Alys have family who’d want to be aware of the birth?”
Why had he never thought to ask these questions before? It hadn’t mattered as long as his friend was happy, but now that Rosanna was spouting off nonsense... He had to understand where it was coming from.
James turned to him, expression devoid of any emotion. He shook his head slowly and said, “Alys doesn’t have anyone, save us.”
“I see.” But he didn’t. “Rosanna said some odd things regarding your wife.”
James let out a string of curses that had probably rivaled his account of the duchess’s. “She should not have said anything.” James seemed rather upset Rosanna had talked about Alys, but he didn’t regret asking about it because he had to make sure Rosanna didn’t do anything foolish.
Was there some truth to her earlier statements? No, it couldn’t possibly be. Time travel wasn’t at all achievable. Her belief in Alys being from the future was utterly ridiculous. Alys was from America, yes, but not from a different time. “Why don’t you illuminate me,” Dom said carefully. He wasn’t sure what James believed he knew. It would be better and more enlightening if he let his friend give him the details.
“What was Rosanna doing when she told you about Alys?”
Dom wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. What did it matter? It should be easy enough for his friend to explain the particulars of how Alys came to be in England. “She was staring out at the sea near the edge of the cliff.”
Another string of curses...
“James, this isn’t helping.”
He turned around and faced Dom. He rubbed his hands over his face and fell into a nearby chair. “You’re right.” He slumped farther into the cushions. “Rosanna is being—how do I put this—fanciful.”
Dom had thought as much, but that didn’t really clarify James’s reaction. “About where Alys came from?” He raised a brow. “Doesn’t seem like her to do something so silly?”
“She isn’t going to jump,” James said. “She understands there is no way of knowing what would happen if she did.”
Dom sat forward. He hadn’t realized James thought about it in such depth. “I think it is rather obvious what would happen if she jumped off the cliff, and I’m not going to stand by and watch her end her life. You have to talk some better sense into her.”
James stared at him blankly. Perhaps he’s been a bit harsher than he intended when he spoke, but the idea of Rosanna dying... An ache filled him, and he had trouble breathing. It wasn’t going to happen. Not while he had any breath left in him.
“I already said she’s not going to do anything so foolish.” James narrowed his eyes. “It’s not as if Alys knew she’d fall through time when she tripped and tumbled over the cliff.”
Dom’s mouth fell open in shock. Did James actually think—no he couldn’t. His friend was one of the most logical people he knew. How could he possibly believe the words he’d uttered? Alys, a time traveler? “That... it... absolutely and positively preposterous...” Dom had trouble completing a full sentence. “How...”
James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t have time to explain it to you.” He stood and headed toward the door. He paused at the threshold and turned to say, “Whenever have I given you the idea I’m a fool and don’t understand what is going on around me? I assure you nothing has changed. My wife was born in another time, but for whatever reason fate decided to send her to me when I needed her the most. I won’t question my good fortune, and neither should you.” He nodded at Dom. “Pardon me while I go see to my wife. She needs me, and I’m done with this conversation.”
That was James. He didn’t bow down to anyone and never had. He didn’t believe he owed Dom an explanation, and he wasn’t about to stop and humor him with one. There was one thing he could do: seek out Rosanna and coax the details out of her. It was clear she knew more than she’d told him. If Alys had traveled through time, then where had she come from—or rather, when? James believed wholeheartedly she had been sent to him. Maybe she had. The battle at Waterloo had left plenty of scars on the duke, both in mind and body. Alys had appeared to sooth his inner beast. Dom hadn’t questioned it then —too much—so why should he start now? His friend was happy, and that was all that truly mattered.
“You really are a dimwit, aren’t you?”
Dom turned toward the sound of Rosanna’s voice. His lips twitched into a small smile. “I’ve always thought I was quite brilliant.”
“You would,” she said with an upturned nose. “What made you believe interrogating James about Alys now was the right thing to do?”
He shrugged and stood. Rosanna was near and within his reach. He itched to pull her into his arms once again, but realized it wasn’t the time to press his point. She had to let go of her anger, and it’d been clear since he came to Weston she wasn’t ready to do that. He could give her time to let it out. If she needed to be a harpy whenever she was in his company to do that, so be it. He’d been a veritable ass after all.
“It distracted him, didn’t it?” She made a noise he had never heard before in his life. Was she...choking? “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know if I should slap you or agree with you.”
“Oh, agree, most definitely.” The corners of his mouth quirked up. “I abhor bruises, especially on my face.”
Rosanna shook her head. She didn’t fool him for a minute though. He could see her fighting not to smile “I doubt a bruise to your face would prevent a woman from falling for you, my lord. No doubt your wicked charm would have them all too willing to soothe your hurts.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about her assessment—even if it had been accurate in the past. It wasn’t his fault ladies fell for his face. It was sheer luck he came from equally gorgeous stock. His ancestors had chosen their spouses well. He’d have been a fool not to take advantage of what providence had bestowed upon him, but to hear her say the words... Rosanna made it sound as if he was the worst kind of person for it. He studied her and, with much reluctance, said, “You wouldn’t help ease my pain?”
She shorted with unlady like grace. “No, my lord, I’d be the one delivering the blow that leaves you filled with twinges of pain.”
When would she dispense with my lording him? He wanted to hear his name on her lips once more. “Dom,” he replied. “Say it.”
“No,” she said. “You are not my husband, my brother, or any relation at all to me. I cannot be informal with you ever again.” She turned to leave. “Don’t bother James with your questions. He has a family he adores and doesn’t need you tainting it with your doubts.” With those words, she left him to stew in silence.
It was going to take a whole lot for him to charm her back to liking him—no loving him. He didn’t doubt she did, but she was in denial. First, he had a spy to catch and deliver to the crown. After that he’d pursue her with a determination that would make it clear how much he adored her. With that vow, Dom walked out of the room. He had a meeting with a possible traitor, and he wouldn’t miss it for anything.
CHAPTER SIX
Rosanna headed up the stairs to check on Alys. No one would allow her into the room to offend her innocent eyes with the birth. It wasn’t done. A lady was kept i
n the dark until she was a married lady and having a child of her own. Alys said if it had been up to her she’d have allowed Rosanna in the room. The duchess hated that ladies of that time were kept in the dark. Why should they be ignorant to what their future might hold? With that in mind, Alys answered any question she might have, hoping to prepare her for marriage one day. Her new sister told her things that made her cheeks heat and her mind to rage with even more questions.
But those were not things she could ask with Alys about to give birth. There were far more important things to take into account. Rosanna’s curious nature could only be acquiesced so much. It would be enough for her to know that Alys and the babe made it through all right. To gain that bit of information she’d have to inquire about them. James was sure to have bolted to Alys’s side after leaving Dom.
As she neared the door to the duchess’s chambers, she heard a baby’s tiny wail. “Oh, good,” she said holding her hand over her heart. “The babe has arrived.”
“Pardon me, my lady.” A maid rushed past her and ran down the stairs. What was that all about?
A string of curses followed the maid’s exit. The door had been left ajar and Rosanna peeked inside. James held an infant wrapped up in a white sheet. “He’s beautiful, Alys?” He cooed to the babe trying, to comfort him.
“I’m sure he is, and I’ll want to hold him, but his brother or sister is demanding entrance.”
“What?” James’s voice held a hint of puzzlement. “Are you certain?”
Alys glared at him. Rosanna suppressed a giggle at the sight. Her brother quickly set the baby down in a cradle and went to Alys’s side. “Get that blasted midwife back in here.”
So it hadn’t been a maid who’d rushed out of the room. Where had that woman have gone? Why would she have left Alys without finishing to her duties.
“I don’t know where she could have gone?” James asked.
“She probably fled the estate. If you hadn’t been so rude to her....” A moan escaped Alys’s mouth. “You’re going to have to deliver the baby.”
James’s face became a bleak white. “I..I...”
Alys’s whole body clenched up as she screamed. Rosanna was equal parts fascinated and horrified. James had to do something—Alys was in so much pain. “Don’t argue with me now. There’s no time. I have to push.”
James quickly followed Alys’s directions and kneeled between her legs. Rosanna watched transfixed. This was...she should...go, but couldn’t move. Her curiosity always did get the best of her.
“I’m going to push now,” Alys said. Her face turned a dark red. She held her breath and her features scrunched up tightly. Then her mouth fell open and she screamed once more.
“I have him,” James reassured her. He pulled out the babe.
Another boy—would they be identical as James and Edward had been? Rosanna was amazed. That had been the most gruesome thing she’d ever seen. No wonder they kept ladies in the dark. If they knew what birthing a babe entailed none of them would willingly do it.
“Lady Rosanna, what are you doing out here.”
She turned slowly and met the gaze of the housekeeper. The woman stared at her with displeasure. She’d always had a way with her eyes that made Rosanna feel tiny and unworthy. “I’m watching my new nephews. My brother has his heirs.”
Which was true. He did have his heir and a spare now. Though James and Alys wouldn’t see them that way—the boys would be wonderful additions to their family. Elizabeth would be a wonderful big sister. As hard as it had been to watch Alys give birth, Rosanna was a bit jealous. Not of the pain, but of the love between Alys and James. She wanted to have that. Maybe that is what made all the difference. When you loved as much as Alys and James did then anything was possible. Their children were a result of that.
“That is glorious news, but this is no place for a young lady.”
“I’m aware of that. I’ll go now.”
She scurried away from the room. There was no reason to stay any longer. Her reason for coming up the stairs was to find out how Alys and the babe—no, babes—faired. Both boys and their mother were fine. James was there to see to it. Rosanna could grab a book from the library and retire for the evening. The rest of the news could wait. The only thing left was what they were to be named. That might take longer now that they had two infants to consider.
Rosanna glided down the stairs and turned down the hallway toward the library. Then an idea filled her mind. Reading seemed far to tame for her bundled nerves. A ride would do so much more for her pent up emotions. She turned back and headed to her chambers. She summoned her maid and had her assist her. With quick movements and precision born of practice, the maid helped her into her riding habit.
“Thank you, Maisie.”
“Will you need anything else, milady?”
She shook her head. “That will be all for now.”
The maid curtsied and left the room. Rosanna followed shortly after and headed to the stables. She couldn’t wait to sit in a saddle and soar across the fields on the estate. It had been a while since she’d bothered with the exercise. Alys couldn’t do much being heavily pregnant, and Rosanna hated riding alone with a groom as company.
“Biv...,” Rosanna started to call for Bivens, the stable master, but stopped short when she heard voices. Bivens wasn’t anywhere around. Dom was inside and deep in discussion with someone. She stepped inside and hid in the shadows of an empty stall. What was the marquess up to?
“Tommy, is it?” Dom asked.
“Yes, milord.”
Rosanna peeked through a hole in the stall and watched them. She really needed to stop eavesdropping on everyone, but what else was she supposed to do? No one bothered to tell her anything, and Dom, while she didn’t want to admit it even to herself, always fascinated her. His body was taut, and he appeared as if he were interrogating the lad. What had the poor boy done to incur Dom’s wrath?
“Tell me about your nightly activities.”
“I don’t have any sir,” the stable boy gulped. “I don’t have time for none.”
Dom stepped closer to him. He didn’t leave much space between him and the boy. Why did he feel the need to intimidate him? She should step in and stop him. The servants shouldn’t be bullied because Dom felt as if he could lord over them; they were not his servants. Rosanna would speak to James about the marquess’s behavior—well, tomorrow maybe. She’d not disturb him so soon after his sons’ birth.
“Don’t play games with me,” Dom said. His voice had an edge of menace to it. “I’ve been watching you. Tell me about Le Cerveau.”
The mastermind? Rosanna’s French was limited, but she thought she understood what Dom had said. The boy’s face had gone stark white at the phrase. Did he know what Dom had referred to? If so, she wished they’d both enlighten her. She was wildly curious now.
The boy took a step back. He attempted to run, but Dom was faster. He reached out and snatched him back. “You didn’t think you’d get away that easily did you?”
The boy shook hard as Dom continued to glare down at him. “Please, milord, I can’t...”
“You can, and you will,” Dom interrupted him. “If not, I can assure you his majesty, the king, won’t be pleased. In fact, I’m positive he frowns upon treason of any sort.”
Rosanna’s mouth fell open. What had Dom said? This mastermind and Tommy the stable boy had committed treason? It had to be a cruel joke of some kind. No way was anyone that stupid. What was this really about, and why did Dom care? He barely got involved in the House of Lords, let alone with any kind of treasonous activities. He was a consummate rake, a rogue of the first order, and devoted to sin. Rosanna almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of it all.
“I’ve done nothing,” Tommy said fervently. “I swear.”
“That’s the thing,” Dom replied harshly. “By doing nothing, you’re aiding them in their treachery. Tell me who he is and I’ll put in a good word to spare you.”
As if Dom’s
word would do any good for the boy. The marquess did not have the ear of the king. He didn’t attend court and he only went out in society in search of his latest conquest. Dom’s activities and wicked intentions were well known throughout society. Ladies coveted him for more than his title. She’d heard whispers that wetted her inquisitive nature. Dom could promise the boy all he wanted, but it would do him no good. Especially if he actually was involved with someone planning the perfidy he claimed.
“I don’t know his name,” Tommy explained. “No one does.”
“We’re finally making some progress.” Dom pushed the boy against the wall. “It’s good you’re done pretending. I am sure the man doesn’t want anyone to know his identity, but you must know a way to contact him.”
The boy shook his head. “No, I’d have no reason to.”
Dominic snorted. “I stand corrected. It appears we’ve backpedaled a bit. Are you going to make me beat the information out of you?” Dom grabbed him by the throat and pushed him harder against the stable wall.
Rosanna hoped not. She’d already witnessed something she shouldn’t have. This wouldn’t be any different—Dom was good with his fists. One of the activities he did enjoy was going to his club and practicing fisticuffs. James used to go with him often, and even Edward upon occasion. She didn’t understand a man’s desire to beat another one up, and had no interest in finding out what it was like first hand.
“I may know of a way...” Tommy managed to choke the words out with a wheeze. The boy’s eyes were bulging and he looked around him. “Please, milord, let me go. I can’t breathe.” He batted his hands against Dom’s grip.
Dom loosened his hold, but didn’t take his hands off the boy’s neck. “Start talking. If I don’t like what you have to say, I will resume snuffing the breath out of you.”
“A message can be left for Le Cerveau at the local tavern.” The boy flinched as Dom released him.
“Is there someone in particular it must be left with? What must be included in it?”