A Dangerous Man

by Janmarie Anello

  The doctor patted his shoulder. "I will be outside the door if you need me"

  There was nothing left to be done but hope and pray. Richard's mind understood that, but his heart refused to listen.

  He leaned over the bed and growled in her ear. "You will not die. Do you hear me? I will not allow it. I need you-" He could not stop his tears rolling down his cheeks. He did not even try. "I need you, Leah. Everyone needs you. Alison. Matthew. Geoffrey. Our little boy. You haven't even seen our little boy. I do not even know what you want to name him. We never decided. You must come back to him, to me. We cannot be a family without you"

  He was sobbing now, his back heaving with the force of his grief. "Leah, my love. Please, open your eyes. I cannot face life without you. So you must come back to me. Without you, there is no me. . °"

  She heard Richard's voice, choked with agony, wracked by hopeless despair, calling her through the darkness, dragging her back to the pain. Sobbing. Begging. Pleading.

  Don't leave me. Don't go.

  But she was tired. So very tired. She wanted to sleep.

  He would not allow it. Every time she drifted away, he would squeeze her hand, bathe her brow, whisper words that she didn't understand, until finally she pulled open her eyes.

  Her vision blurred. The room swirled about her head. He sat beside her, his cheek pressed against the palm of her hand, his shoulders shaking with his heart-wrenching tears.

  "Richard," she said. Her voice dragging over her dry, aching throat was so low, he did not appear to hear her, but she had not the strength to try again. She was so cold, deep inside, she started to shake, yet her skin felt damp, sticky with sweat.

  She squeezed his hand, seeking his warmth, seeking his comfort. His shoulders tensed, his head swung up, his dark eyes met hers through his tears. His brows rose, his mouth inched open, a faint expression of uncertainty, as if he were lost in a dream, or perhaps she was dreaming, she was so confused. He gave a sigh, from deep within his chest, kissed the back of her hand.

  "I love you," he whispered again and again, his voice trembling over her knuckles. His scent of jasmine and amber filled her with peace, eased her anxiety.

  Then memories rushed through her mind.

  Bright flashes of light. Rachel. The cliffs.

  She moved the palm of her hand over her stomach.

  It was empty and flat, and she moaned. Pain, intense and blinding, speared her back, spread down her legs. Her throat closed. He covered her hand with his, but she turned her eyes to the wall. Her heart shredding, her soul dying.

  She had killed their child with her foolishness. She had murdered him out on the bluff as surely as if she had driven a stake through his heart.

  How would she survive this pain?

  He stroked her cheek with his fingertips. "Wouldn't you like to meet your son? He is most anxious to meet you"

  Her lungs hurt. She couldn't drag in enough air. "We have a son? He is alive?"

  Richard smiled, his devil-may-care grin that did not hide the trembling of his lips. "Yes, ma'am. Alive and screaming. A red, wrinkled, squalling bundle of baby boy. Would you like to see him?" He did not wait for a response. He ran from the room.

  A heartbeat later, he sat beside her on the bed, a wrapped, wriggling bundle cradled in his arms. He moved his fingers to the swaddling blankets, peeled the edges away to reveal her beautiful baby boy. He was chubby and pink and screaming to wake the dead. Tears dripped from her cheeks onto her neck.

  "Our son," she whispered, amazed by the thick tuft of black hair covering his head. With a shaking hand, she traced the contours of his face, his arms, his hands. She marveled at his tiny toes, his miniature fingernails, his long, dark eyelashes. "He is perfect"

  Richard gently placed the babe belly-down across her chest.

  "Of course. Given who his mother is, I would expect nothing less." The gleam of moisture in his eyes belied the teasing tone of his voice. He leaned back, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "There is only one thing wrong with him, madam. He doesn't have a name"

  "Eric," she said quietly, brushing her fingers over his downy soft hair. "I should like to name him Eric. If it would please you"

  She looked up at him, then, and Richard thought he would drown in the clear depths of her eyes, deep green eyes dusted with amber that entranced him still, as they had from the first moment they met. And he had almost lost her.

  "Nothing would please me more," he said, his voice breaking over the words. "But now you should rest" He cradled his wife and his son in his arms until they slept.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Leah sat on a bench in the gardens with her aunt by her side and her three-month-old son resting peacefully across her lap. Beyond the sloping lawns, golden streaks of gorse stretched out along the cliffs, a startling contrast to the endless blue sky.

  "You must be tired of holding him, dear. Why don't you let me take him for you?"

  Leah grinned as she gently shifted Eric into her aunt's outstretched arms. "Do be careful of his head"

  "Not to worry, dear. I know how precious he is." Emma kissed the baby's brow. A faint sigh escaped her lips.

  She wiped her cheek against the sleeve of her dress, a soft cotton of forest green that made her appear so young, so pretty, or perhaps it was her love for the man she had married. "I am so sorry I was not here when you needed me ""

  Leah slipped her hand through the crook of her aunt's arm. She knew her aunt blamed herself for all Leah had suffered at Rachel's hands, as if Emma would have been able to stop her. "Please, do not"

  "No, I must. I love you as if you were my own daughter. If only I had known you were in danger."

  "How could you have known?"

  Her aunt gave a sad shake of her head. Wisps of gray hair fluttered about her face. Her lips trembled.

  "Truly, Emma, I love you. You are more than a mother to me. You are my dearest friend." Leah blew out her breath to relieve the ache growing in her throat. "Look at us. Two watering pots on such a fine day."

  Emma brushed her hand over her eyes. "I know you are right, dear, but whenever I think of the danger you were in, I feel faint. And Matthew who would have ever thought we would have Catherine's child here with us. If only our dear Catherine ..." She crushed her shaking fist to her lips.

  "I know," Leah said, wrapping her arm around her aunt's shoulder. Her gaze drifted to the children, hiding amongst the azaleas, their childish laughter carrying on the breeze as they waited for their fathers to seek them out.

  Matthew darted from behind the hedges, a swift blur amidst the pink blooms, only to be scooped up by Pierce. Joyous shrieks escaped the boy as Pierce swung him around, hands clutched beneath his shoulders. Leah turned her gaze to the distant ocean. The sun glinting off the water stung her eyes.

  "Matthew seems happy here," Emma said, "and Alison fairly dotes on him. She is such a lovely child. Has it been very hard for her?"

  Alison had snuck up on Pierce and shoved her shoulders into his legs to help Matthew escape. The two children joined hands as they ran toward the fountains, their shrieks frightening the sparrows and starlings from the shrubbery.

  "She is sad, of course," Leah said, a chill sweeping down her arms. She tried never to think of that night on the bluff, when Rachel had fallen, her body crushed on the rocks. "Rachel was not much of a mother, but Alison loved her."

  "She is lucky to have you and the duke to care for her, not to mention this big brute. I vow he has gained five pounds just today."

  Leah smoothed her knuckles over her son's silky cheek. His mouth twitched into a smile before parting in a soft exhalation. Whenever she thought of how close she came to losing him, she shuddered, as if a violent wind whipped over her skin. Never could she have imagined the depth of love she would feel for this child. "He looks so much like his father."

  "Do you think so? I should think he looks more like you"

  Leah laughed. "With that black hair and those dark eyes?"

  "
Well, he is rather handsome, is he not?"

  "Sinfully so," Leah said, thinking of his father with his wicked smile and his dark, good looks. His brooding eyes and his hard chiseled cheeks, his slanted jaw and his lips and his tongue and his hands, his wicked, wicked hands that knew just where to touch her ... Good Lord, a burning flush spread over her cheeks.

  Her gaze sought him out. He and Pierce were huddled together, their arms wrapped around the children, as if a serious conversation, or a conspiracy, were under way.

  He looked up and caught her staring. From this distance she could not make out his expression, but she imagined his eyes went dark and sultry, and his gaze made a leisurely scan of her face, leaving her aching and tingling, as if he'd swept his fingers over her skin.

  She could see his teeth gleaming in the sunlight, and she knew he was smiling, as if he had read her mind.

  "Leah, your cheeks are crimson. Do you feel feverish?"

  "Not at all," she said, unable to meet her aunt's tooknowing gaze.

  "Well, you look tired, dear. Why don't you lie down?"

  Leah smiled reassuringly. "Honestly, I feel fine."

  "I insist. Go. Get some rest. There is no shame in admitting you're tired."

  Leah narrowed her eyes on her aunt's face. "If I did not know you better, I would think you were trying to be rid of me ""

  "Nonsense! I am worried for your health. We all are. Espe cially that husband of yours. He bid me to make certain you rest today. He thinks you are doing far too much"

  Leah started to protest. She was weary of being treated as if she were as fragile as old bones, easily broken. The wounded look on her aunt's face shamed her. "You are right," she conceded. "I think I shall lie down for an hour or two"

  "And so you should," Emma said, her lips quirking into an I-don't-believe-you-for-a-moment grin. "Now, run along, dear. And do not worry about this precious angel. I will give him to his nurse when he awakens"

  As she walked to her chambers, a heavy weight settled on Leah's chest. Not that she was unhappy. She wasn't. She thanked God every day for sparing her life and that of her child's, but she had a difficult decision to make.

  Unable to sleep, she dragged her volume of Lord Byron's poetry from her dressing table. Stretched out on the window seat, she opened the book to her favorite verse, but the words blurred on the page. She leaned her cheek against the window, the glass cool and soothing against her heated cheek.

  Her door opened. Richard strode into the room, all tousled black hair and smoldering eyes.

  She studied her hands to shield her suddenly stinging eyes.

  "Leah?" He sat beside her, pulled her into his arms, the beat of his heart strong and steady beneath her ear. "What is it? What is troubling you?"

  She pushed herself out of his arms, rose and crossed to the hearth. She did not want her need for this man to distract her. "You were right about Pierce," she said, her voice scraping her throat like a wave dragging over the sand. "He is a fine man"

  "I have always thought so." Richard walked up behind her, so close she could feel the heat of his thighs against the back of her legs. "Leah, please, share your worries with me"

  She turned to face him. She wanted to lean against his chest, to let him take away the pain, but she forced herself to stand tall. "He has managed to piece his life together ... I begin to see the man Catherine loved, and I think him a wonderful father to her son" She rushed through her words before she could change her mind. "I think Matthew belongs with him now."

  He pulled her into his arms, cradled her cheek against his chest. She slid her hands around his neck, clung to him desperately as she accepted the truth of her words.

  From the moment Pierce had discovered he had a son, he had practically lived with them. His love for the boy was obvious, as was his determination to rebuild his life. He had struggled to conquer his obsession with the drink, much the same as Geoffrey had, and he had succeeded. While he had a long way to go until all of his wounds were healed, he had made a steady start. Matthew belonged with his father. It was the right thing to do.

  "Catherine would have wanted it that way," she said, and as soon as the words left her lips, Leah knew it was true.

  "You are so wonderful," Richard murmured, kissing away her tears, running his lips over her jaw, then down the curve of her neck.

  His scent of jasmine and amber seduced her senses, lit an unbearable yearning, a desperate love that left her shaking with need. She slid her fingers through his hair. A gentle tug brought his lips a mere whisper away but he would not close the distance between them. She pushed up on her toes, traced the seam of his lips with her tongue, licking and tasting until he finally opened his mouth. With a savage growl, he clung to her, hot hands roaming her back, down over her hips, cupping her bottom, until she fairly purred against his lips.

  She smiled as he scooped her into his arms, his mouth clinging fiercely, furiously, his tongue delving inside.

  When he strode past the bed and out her chamber door, Leah gasped. "What are you doing? Put me down."

  He merely laughed as he continued down the stairs, past a line of giggling maids. His boot heels rapped on the hard wood floor with each determined step he took. "Do you know what day this is?"

  Leah started to shake her head, then she smiled. "Our anniversary."

  "Yes. A year ago today, we were wed" He strode down the steps and out the doors, his boot heels crunching the seashells on the gravel drive. "Cloaked in secrecy and shame"

  Leah closed her eyes. She did not want to be reminded of the circumstances that had brought them together, her father's perfidy, the pain of Richard's past. He followed a narrow path past the conservatory and did not stop until he reached the stone chapel, built by some long-ago Wexton. Beneath the sun, the slate roof shimmered with a yellow glaze of lichen and moss.

  His eyes were as dark as the midnight sky and just as mysterious as he opened the chapel door. Alison stood just inside the entry. Matthew fidgeted by her side.

  Both children were dressed in formal attire as if they were on their way to an evening soiree. Garlands strung with hothouse roses hung from the pews.

  Leah's senses scattered as she scanned the expectant faces filling the benches. Emma and Geoffrey and Lady Cunningham, Mrs. Bristoll and Tommy, and all the children of the foundling home.

  Even Alexander was there. And the vicar?

  She turned to Richard. "I do not understand"

  He bent on his knee before her, clasped her hand against his lips. The love shining in his eyes burned so brightly, she thought surely she could see into the deepest part of his soul.

  "Leah, I love you and I am not ashamed to say it. I love you, and I want to marry you, to give you myself and a lifetime of happiness."

  She raised a shaking hand, wiped away the moisture gathering in her eyes. Her lips quivered as she stared at him in helpless wonder.

  He smiled tenderly, his own eyes bright with unshed tears. "Leah ... will you marry me? Will you promise me forever, here, now, before God and our friends?"

  "Silly man," she said, smiling through her tears. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  They were kissing still when he swung her into his arms and carried her down the aisle.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

/>   Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five