Captain Durant's Countess(49)

So Reyn prayed with all his heart for a girl, a girl not cursed with his long Durant nose or bushy eyebrows. A little girl with toffee-colored hair and wide brown eyes, who was smart and beautiful as her mother. The old earl had dowered a girl child with Hazel Grange and a substantial income. Reyn would have to keep his wits about him repelling fortune hunters.

Yes, a daughter would be ideal. Maris could relinquish her guilt and that damn David Kelby would leave her alone forever. Reyn and Maris could marry after a decent period of mourning and all might be well. If he was writing a book, that’s precisely how he’d arrange the plot.

Ha. Write a book? Not likely. Reyn was being fanciful, thinking too far into the future and had to rein himself in. For now, he was having a secret affair with his widowed neighbor, and bloody grateful he was about it.

He fastened the top button of her night rail. “There. All prim and proper. Except for your bare feet. What were you thinking of coming out without shoes?”

“I didn’t want to make any noise.”

“You are a scandal, Lady Kelby.”

Maris blinked. “Oh, I do hope not. We must be discreet, Reyn. I don’t want David to catch wind of what we’re up to.”

“Look, my love, even if he discovers our relationship, it doesn’t mean anything. You are a widow. A neighbor. I’m offering you comfort.”

“He could take the baby away after it is born, Reyn. Say I was unfit. A harlot.”

“How could he do that? Surely Henry didn’t make him any kind of guardian or trustee.”

“No, of course not. But he’s the nearest male relative. The courts are sympathetic to the wishes of men, not women. He could claim he was the temporary head of the family until our son reached his majority. I’d have no say in the raising of my own child.”

“That cannot happen, Maris. You are borrowing trouble.”

Jesus, no wonder she was so afraid. But if she married him, that would circumvent any nefarious plans David had, surely?

It was too soon to petition her further for a marriage between them. Whatever he had to do to protect her and their child would be done, one way or another. He would be her White Knight, ribbon or no.

He held her close, wishing the earlier glow of the evening would return. Someone should run David Kelby through and spare them all his machinations.

“I’m sorry I’m such a bundle of nerves. But I’ve had a month to think on all the things that might go wrong. I never expected to find you here, Reyn, and I don’t think I can give you up again.”

“I won’t let you give me up. We’ll figure something out, I promise.” He was a selfish bastard.

But the best thing he could do for the Countess of Kelby would be to drive her home to Hazel Grange and never see her again.

Reyn couldn’t do it. He needed to see her grow large with their child, touch her when she came apart, listen to her worries, and dispatch them as best he could. He hoped he was man enough to manage.

He kissed her forehead. “Let me walk you to the house.”

“Someone might see.”

“They’re all asleep. There was a time when Ginny spent some restless nights, but the danger seems to have passed.”

Maris studied his face. “You took Henry’s job for your sister, and now she’s in health. Are you ever sorry?”

“That I met and fell in love with you? Don’t be ridiculous. Things may not be easy for us right now, but they’ll come about in the end.”

“I wish I could believe that. I don’t see how.”

He didn’t have the first idea either, but wouldn’t let that stop him. “Trust me.”

She smiled. “I do. I hadn’t planned to, either.”

“I remember, and who could blame you? We met under rather inauspicious beginnings. But you’ve improved me, Countess. Who knows? You might even teach me to read at that.”

“I’ll write to Miss Holley tomorrow.”

“Fine.” He’d do whatever took her mind off their troubles. He’d subject himself to the schoolroom again and stand on his head if that’s what it took to distract her. “Off with you then. Mind the cobblestones. I don’t want you stubbing one of your pretty toes.”

“Good night, Reyn.” She stood on those toes to kiss him—a kiss laced with restraint, mindful that it would not take much for him to get her down on his pallet again.

Reyn stood at the stable door as she disappeared through the misty yard and into the side door. The house was in total darkness, and he hoped her toes would be safe all the way up the stairs and to her room.

Bloody hell. He should consult a solicitor; see what rights David Kelby might have over Maris’s child. It had never once occurred to him that the blighter would have a say in anything. But that would arouse suspicion, and that was the last thing Reyn wanted to do.

He sat back down on the crumpled blankets, Maris’s scent overcoming horse and hay. He had told her he loved her, and apart from a flick of her long eyelashes, she’d said nothing.

She wanted him. But could she love him? Reyn almost didn’t care. It would be enough to have her nearby.

Crumbs. With luck and God’s good grace he’d get the whole cake and icing, too.





Breakfast had gone just as it ought, with Maris and Reyn behaving civilized and composed. Toast was crunched, coffee drunk, eggs and bacon consumed over polite conversation, Ginny considerably brighter now that he was not being a rude bastard. Reyn realized he’d been less than a gentleman over dinner, and made certain he behaved himself. No one would guess from his deportment that a few hours earlier he and Maris had rolled around on the floor of his office giving each other unbridled joy.

He intended to drop Maris at her home and continue on to Shere, and they left early, heavy moisture still on the leaves and grass. In less than twenty minutes, Reyn had rolled through the posts at Hazel Grange. Maris’s house sat on a little rise, square and neat. As soon as his carriage was spotted on the drive, Stephen Prall lumbered out from her stable and one of the footmen—bearing his own name now—stepped down from the portico.

“Good morning, Lady Kelby. We’re so glad you’ve returned safe and sound.”

“I’m so sorry to give you all worry, Phillip. What with the storm, Miss Durant insisted I stay the night, and the captain was kind enough to drive me back.”

“You have a visitor, my lady. The Earl of Kelby arrived just after you left yesterday. Told him you were dining with the neighbors. We put him in the blue room when he wouldn’t leave. He was in a temper to not find you home.”

Maris turned white. Reyn could do nothing to calm her that would not arouse suspicion.

“I hope he did not give you a lot of trouble,” Maris said faintly.

“No more than he ever did, my lady. He did get into the best port. Me and Aloysius figured it might be the best way to disarm him.”

“W-where is he now?”

“Still abed, my lady. I reckon he’s got a head on him this morning.”

Maris turned to Reyn. “You’d better go.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone with that villain.”

Maris squeezed his hand as he helped her descend from the carriage. “But you must! He knows I spent the night at Merrywood, but may not even know it is you who lives there. If he sees us together, it will only fuel his ire.”

“You weren’t expecting him?”

“Of course not! David always comes and goes as he pleases. Somehow he thinks I will be waiting like a docile schoolgirl so he can scold and bully me.” She tried to smile and waggled a finger at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll stand up for myself and send him packing soon enough after a decent breakfast. At least he has no need to bleed me for money any more. The Kelby coffers are at his disposal, even if the title is in limbo. Maybe you can get a message to Mr. Swift to pay me a visit this morning. He seemed to annoy David quite a lot when they met before.”

“I think I should stay,” Reyn said, unable to overcome the stubborn feeling that he should remain by Maris’s side. What if Kelby tried to hurt her with something other than his tongue? Reyn had never been able to shake the feeling that somehow the man was responsible for the earl’s death that dark night, though he would never confess his misgivings to Maris. She didn’t need to be frightened any more than she was already.

According to the doctor, there had been no signs of foul play. But one didn’t have to raise a fist to a sick old man when one could verbally goad him beyond bearing. Reyn would put nothing past David Kelby.

He had blackmailed Maris for years, keeping her off balance, destroying her peace of mind, and casting a dark shadow on the last years she’d had with her husband. Maris had made a terrible mistake ever trusting him, but her punishment was far more severe than her crime.

“I’m staying.”