"I missed you, too. Be glad you weren't in my bed, though, Lady Bug. I was still asleep when Michael decided he needed to show me the new puppy Welby gave him yesterday. I tell you what, as good morning kisses go, I'll take yours over that mutt's any day."
She sailed across the room, went up on her tiptoes and planted a quick kiss on his lips. Then she punched him in the gut. "You say the sweetest things."
He pasted on a pained expression when what he really wanted to do was grab her up and carry her to bed there and then. My love. The sound was as sweet as an entire bushel of apples. "Marry me, Chrissy."
"Don't, Cole," she said, wincing.
He felt a sudden rush of frustration at her response. "I'll just keep asking."
"Tell me something I don't know. That's thirty-seven times since we left the plunge bath."
"You've kept count?" The idea soothed away his frustration. Now he really wanted to take her to bed.
She shrugged. "Marriage proposals are something a woman tends to keep track of. But they are not what I came here to talk to you about."
He tugged at his tie. "You came to tell me the basket of fruit in your room didn't satisfy your hunger and only I can do that?"
"That is second on my list," she replied, smiling, though he could tell she didn't want to. "Don't take this personally, Cole, but I think your approach with Lord Bennet is all wrong."
Dammit, she had to talk business. "I almost had him," he said.
"Perhaps. We can't be certain. I'll admit the reincarnation business was inspired."
"Do you ever think about that sort of thing, Christina?" Grabbing her hand, he pulled her back to the settee and sat her down beside him. "Every now and then, I do. Especially when I get a very intense sensation that I've lived that moment before."
"Yes, I know that feeling. I'm experiencing it right now. You're trying to change the subject because you know I'm right. Believe me, I've been in this place a thousand times before."
"Now wait just one minute—"
She reached up and brushed a lock of his hair off his forehead in a gesture more motherly than intimate. Cole scowled as she told him, "You rushed him, Cole, and now he'll retreat."
"Temporarily, maybe, but the man is anxious to please. I'll talk him into showing me the Declaration."
She shook her head. "I'll have more success working my wiles on him. Here's what I—"
Temper rolled inside him as Cole lurched to his feet. "No. I forbid it."
Christina visibly stiffened. "Careful there, Morgan," she said in a tight, brittle voice. "It's not your place to forbid me anything. We're here for only four days. We have no time to waste. I could tell at Hartsworth that Lord Bennet is not immune to my charms, so it makes more sense for me to approach him."
"Honey, only dead men are immune to your charms, and I'm not sure about all of them. But it doesn't matter because I won't have my wife playing the flirt with another man, period."
She stood and faced him. "I'm not your wife."
"You are in my heart."
"Oh, Cole." She sighed heavily. "And you dare to call me stubborn."
"So it's a character trait we share. Imagine how our children will be. Of course I reckon the girls will be more stubborn than the boys. Something about being female takes stubborn to new heights."
"As much as I'd like to lay into you about this, I won't be distracted, Cole."
Distraction was exactly what both of them needed, in Cole's opinion. He winked and said, "Oh c'mon, Lady Bug. Lay me."
She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "I'll lay you out flat. My fist to your face."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know, but it's all you're going to get. For now at least." She approached him and grabbing his shirt front, tugged him down toward her and kissed his cheek. When she drew back, her eyes were solemn. "Cole, cooperate with me on this."
"I can't, honey. It would tie me into knots. Besides, it's not right. It's not honorable."
She flinched, then stepped away from him. Injury dulled her eyes and when she spoke, her voice was brittle. "Yes, of course. What was I thinking. Mother wouldn't approve of such behavior, would she?"
"Now, Christina. Don't—"
"Batting my eyelashes and sweet-talking a man in order gain his cooperation, why, it borders on prostitution, doesn't it?"
Whoa. Where did this come from? Cole frowned at her. "Don't be stupid. This has nothing to do with whoring."
"No, you're right. It doesn't. I exaggerated. What I didn't exaggerate, however, is what my mother would think of my methods."
"Elizabeth isn't here."
"Thank heavens for that particular favor," she exclaimed, throwing her arms wide. "All right. Fine. Let's hear your plan, Morgan. What are you going to do to ensure that you walk away from Harpur Priory with our Declaration in your hand?"
"Well, I'm not going to flirt with Bennet, for one thing."
The minx stuck out her tongue at him.
Cole folded his arms and glared. "We've been over this before. Nothing has changed. First, since Bennet apparently considers himself an expatriated Texan of sorts, I intend to appeal to his ego, to promise him a place in Texas history."
"And if that doesn't work?"
"I'll buy it from him."
"And if he's not willing to sell?"
"I'll steal it from him."
"Now that's honor, Cole Morgan," she said, shaking a finger in the air. "I am continually amazed at how your mind works. A while back you mentioned having doctors in London study me. Well, I think they could create an entirely new level of psychiatric study with you as their subject.
"It's obvious we can't work together on this. But don't worry, Cole. As soon as I have the Declaration of Independence in my possession, I'll turn it over to you. I won't have any more time to waste on such trivialities. You see, I intend to go with Lana and the children to visit Lord Welby's castle. He tells me he has three brothers. He thinks I'd be the perfect match for one of them."
"That's an empty threat and you know it, Christina. You're not going anywhere but to the altar with me."
That shut her up. Finally. She stood there, her chest rising and falling with the force of her angered breaths, looking more beautiful, more alluring, than any woman had the right to look.
"Maybe that's true," she said, lifting her chin high. "Don't think I'm unaware of the risks we've taken of late, and I suspect you hope to force the issue by giving me a child."
Cole felt his eyes go wide. Damn, the woman had sand. "Now don't get snippy on me. I don't remember hearing the word 'no' come from your mouth. Except as a pout when you've wrung me dry and you're still wanting to play. Really, Christina, you need to be a little more understanding in that area. Seven times in one night is a lot for any man. You're not going to make me feel like all my starch is in my shirt just because I wanted to sleep for an hour or so before giving another go at it."
Her back went stiff as a fence post. "Embarrassing me won't win you any favors, Cole."
He approached her, took her by the shoulders. "I don't want favors, I want your word. Don't play the flirtatious Chili Queen with Bennet."
"Why? Why are you trying to change who I am?"
"This has nothing to do with who you are, honey. It's who Bennet is. There is something fishy about that man. I don't trust him, and I don't want him to focus on you. Do this for me, would you? Please?"
"Please?" She blinked theatrically. "Cole Morgan said please?"
"I know." He sighed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. "Mark it on your calendar."
She looked at him for a long moment, then a smile twitched at her lips. "All right, I have an idea. How about we compromise? I'll act more British cool than peppery Chili Queen while you make a run at convincing Lord Bennet to show us his private collection. Then, depending on your luck, we'll reassess how best to proceed."
"That's as good as I'm going to get from you, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"In that case, I agree to your compromise," he said with a scowl.
She laughed softly, then wrapped her arms around him and buried her head against him. "You can be such a pouty little boy."
Cole held her tight. "Thank you. I do try."
They stood there for a time simply holding one another. He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment and almost didn't hear her when she said, "I thought you were criticizing me, wanting to change me."
It was, Cole realized, a clue to the puzzle that was Christina Delaney.
"Change the Queen of the Chili Queens?" he murmured in response, nuzzling her hair. "I'm not about to fiddle with a perfect recipe."
He felt her smile against his chest.
Sometimes, Morgan, you actually get it right.
* * *
Lord Bennet donned knee-high boots with a stitched silver star on the heels to call the first Anglo-Texan Society meeting to order in the drawing room at Harpur Priory. Chrissy watched the proceedings from a seat in the front row within excellent eyelash-batting distance—if such action were needed.
Following a relatively short organizational meeting, the group of fifteen men and three women voted to begin the day's lectures immediately, so anxious were they to get on with the educational aspects of the gathering. It came as no surprise to Chrissy that Lord Bennet stood up to speak first. His topic, the first of a trio of presentations he apparently intended to give today, was "Siege at the Alamo."
Chrissy was shifting in her seat within the first five minutes. Though she wouldn't admit it aloud, Texas history didn't excite her. There simply wasn't enough of it yet to spark her imagination, especially since this trip to England where "old" had an entirely different implication. Still, she did believe in the necessity for a people to preserve their history, hence her dedication to the search for the Declaration.
Which is why I'm sitting through this discourse on death pretending to listen when I'd rather be—She glanced at Cole, who stood toward the back of the room, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze fastened upon the speaker with a look of captivated interest, and words she never expected popped into her mind. —upstairs making babies.
Chrissy Delaney, you are a certified mess.
That, and a woman in love.
Yesterday afternoon, while the steady trickle of arriving guests kept Lord Bennet occupied, she and Cole had explored the manor house, examining as many nooks and crannies of the sizable structure as possible. It came as no real surprise that they found nothing to suggest a "private collection" of any kind. As peculiar as Bennet had acted when mentioning it, he undoubtedly kept it well hidden.
After searching the house, they had ridden the grounds of Harpur Priory. They'd had a fine time exploring every folly, pavilion, grotto, garden house and gatehouse they stumbled across. The excursion had been enjoyable but unproductive, and this morning when Chrissy awoke, she'd felt an urgency to accomplish something today. It had made breakfast excruciatingly difficult. She'd sat directly across from Lord Bennet and the urge to flirt her way past his defenses liked to have choked her. But she'd promised Cole his chance to do it his way, so she'd gritted her teeth and tamped down her natural inclination.
Recalling the missed opportunity, she let loose a sigh that came out louder than she had intended. She had to think fast when Lord Bennet looked at her and asked, "Do you have a comment to make about the drama of March 5, 1836, Miss Delaney?"
March fifth... March fifth... what happened then? The Alamo fell on the sixth, that much she did remember. She glanced at Cole who glared at her, then to his foot as he made an exaggerated drag across the floor with the toe of his boot.
"Moses Rose!" she exclaimed, making the connection. March fifth was when Colonel Travis was said to have drawn in the mission's dirt with his saber and invited all who wanted to stand and fight to the death to cross the line. One man chose to leave—Moses Rose. "I've always felt sorry for Moses Rose. You know in Texas today one of the terms used to call a man a coward is to say he's a first-cousin of Moses Rose."
That set off a heated discussion about what makes a man a true hero. Chrissy did her best not to say anything more, but Cole happily chimed in. When Bennet finally regained control of the conversation, the majority of the audience appeared to view Cole with new respect and Bennet with unabashed approval.
Bennet continued his lecture through the Fall of the Alamo to the Mexican Army. Ardent applause accompanied the finish, followed by twenty minutes of questions. When Bennet frowned over one question and referred it to Cole, Chrissy knew he had fully recovered from his mistake of pushing Bennet too fast yesterday.
Cole rubbed his palm along his jaw line. "Actually, I do know something about that. Somewhere in the early 1840's the Republic of Texas decided the Church of the Alamo and any mission outbuildings belonged to the Catholic Church. Folks have bickered over ownership in years since, and the Church has sold a couple pieces of the property. Local citizens keep working on it and we have hopes that soon the remainder of the Alamo property, the part containing the church, will soon be offered to either the city or the State of Texas."
"So there is interest in preserving that important historical site?" asked a gray-bearded gentleman.
"Very much so. In fact, just a couple years ago a group calling itself the Alamo Monument Association formed to raise money for a monument to the defenders. They have the design developed, and I firmly believe that someday the monument will get built." He snapped his fingers and added, "You know, I just might have one of the books they published with me. It's called The Alamo: America's Thermopylae." He paused just long enough to grab everyone's attention, then asked, "Any of you fellows have one of those books? Do you, Lord Bennet?"
"No. No, I do not." He gazed around the room. "Does anyone's library contain this book?"
Chrissy saw a roomful of heads shake and an avaricious light enter Lord Bennet's eyes. My my my. He's done it. She could tell by the look on the Englishman's face that Cole had just bought his way into the private collection.
As long as he actually did have the booklet, that is, and why he would have one with him, she didn't know. She didn't believe he could have been far-sighted enough to guess he might need one. She could think of dozens of other things that would have made the list of possibly useful items before a book about the Alamo, especially since you could all but paper your walls with them if you wanted. A fund-raising effort by the Alamo Monument Association, demand for the book had been greatly overestimated. The Alamo: America's Thermopylae was on sale at nearly every shop in the city.
That's where she'd seen Cole with a copy. It was a couple of days before she'd been named Chili Queen. He'd tossed a coin onto a counter and grabbed one off a stack, tolling it up to use like a flyswatter against the overly friendly teenage boy buzzing around her as shopped. "That's how you deal with pests, Christina," he'd explained to her after embarrassing the young Romeo with a slight pop to the head. Then he'd stuck the booklet in the inside pocket of his jacket. He must have brought that same piece of clothing with him to England.
Chrissy made sure to stand close enough to eavesdrop when during an intermission a short time later, Lord Bennet offered to show Cole his private Texas collection after luncheon. "If you would bring along the Alamo book, I will be in your debt."
"It will be my pleasure, Bennet." Cole slapped him on the back as though they were long-time pals. When Lord Bennet excused himself moments later in order to take his seat for a lecture entitled "How Texas Got Its Lone Star," Chrissy tugged Cole down the hallway and into the music room.
After glancing around to ensure their privacy, Cole yanked her into his arms and planted a quick, hard kiss upon her mouth. "Am I good?"
"You are very, very good, Mr. Morgan. As long as you are lucky enough to have one of those books with you."
"No luck about it," he returned. "I brought an entire trunk of stuff from home, anything I thought might help if the person in possession of the document wished
to make a trade rather than sell the Declaration outright."
"Oh. That was smart."
"I've been known to have a spell of intelligence upon occasion."
"Rare occasions."
"Brat."
Chrissy shot him a grin, then said, "You will take me with you when you meet him, of course."
"As long as you promise not to flirt."
She rolled her eyes, but before she could chastise his lack of faith the Earl of Thornbury wandered into the music room. "Finally. I've been looking for you two. I cannot bear to sit through another one of those lectures. Chrissy, would you care to join your grandfather on a walk in the garden?"
"I'd love to."
"Excellent," the earl said before addressing Cole. "And Morgan, you'd best hurry back. The speaker specifically asked for your presence so you can comment on his talk."
Cole sighed. "I should have kept my mouth shut."
"Too late now, Morgan," Chrissy quipped, linking her arm through her grandfather's. "Go learn something. It won't hurt you. I'll walk with Grandfather, then put my chili on to cook. I'll meet you and Lord Bennet at the stable at one o'clock. Just think, come suppertime we might just have our hands on the Declaration."
"That's a nice thought." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear, "But not as nice as this. Come midnight, I intend to have my hands on you."
* * *
Cole paced the length of the stables, then turned around and did it again. Nervous energy fueled his steps. Funny how today's discussions had made him yearn for home. He wanted nothing more than to get the Declaration, scrape the damned British mud off his boots, and head for Texas. With Christina as his wife.
Moments later Bennet arrived and ordered a groom to hitch up a buggy. Chrissy hurried in a few minutes later. "Thank you so much for agreeing to show us your private Texas collection," she enthused, offering Bennet a blinding smile and too many bats of her lashes. "I'm so very excited."
When she reached out and touched the Englishman's arm, Cole shot her a fearsome scowl. You crossed the line, he silently accused.
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