Stranger in My Arms(56)

“Oh, milady, you mustn’t!” Naomi exclaimed.

“‘Tis the loveliest gown I’ve ever seen, and you’re a picture in it.”

“The picture of indecency,” Lara said, laughing as she tugged uncomfortably at the bodice. “I’m going to fall out of this thing at any minute.”

“Lady Crossland wore gowns cut lower than that without batting an eye,” Naomi said.” ‘Tis the fashion.”

Forbearing to point out that Janet was the kind of woman who had installed a mirror on her bedroom ceiling, Lara shook her head. “Bring out the pink gown, Naomi. I’ll remove the pearls from my hair and fasten a rose there instead.”

As the maid opened her mouth to argue the point, Johnny came bursting into the room with screams and yelps of delight. “Watch out! ‘E’s coming!” the boy cried, and dove against Lara’s skirts.

Startled, Lara looked up as a tigerish roar resounded through the room, and Hunter came through the doorway. Moving with fluid swiftness, he approached Lara and snatched up the giggling boy. He lifted Johnny in his arms and pretended to snack on him like a starving beast, while the child squirmed and screamed and laughed.

“They’re playing tiger-hunting in India again,” Naomi said to Lara~ “They’ve been at it all week.”

Lara smiled as she watched the pair. In the past few weeks Johnny had begun to display a boisterous energy that equaled ten boys. He was a natural mimic and had responded well to Lara’s efforts to teach him manners. He liked games of all kinds, and used his crafty intelligence to excel in them.

Dressed in a light blue short coat and dark blue trousers, his black hair covered with an ever-present forage cap adorned with brass buttons, Johnny could never be mistaken for a child who had come from the gutter. He was handsome, healthy, and adorable.

And he was hers.

She didn’t care what others thought of the situation, or how many disdainfull eyebrows were raised.

She would not care in the future, when others were sure to spread ugly rumors about Johnny’s parentage, and insinuate that he was her bastard child, or Hunter’s. How could any of that matter? She had been given the chance to take care of a child, to love him, and she intended to do just that.

What she hadn’t expected, however, was Hunter’s bond with Johnny.

Despite his lack of experience with children and his initial resistance to Johnny’s presence in their home, Hunter seemed to understand the boy far better than Lara did. He had quickly learned the mysterious language of frogs, mud cakes, sticks, rodents, and rocks that so delighted little boys. Games of chase and challenge, wrestling, off-putting stories… Hunter knew endless ways to enthrall Johnny.

“I like the boy,” he had admitted easily, when Lara had dared to mention his apparent attachment to the child. “Why shouldn’t I? I’d prefer him to any of the delicate, passive creatures that are trotted out from most aristocratic nurseries.”

“I expected you to resent him because he’s not yours,” Lara had said bluntly. Hunter had smiled sardonically.

“As you once pointed out, his lack of pedigree isn’t his fault. And the mere fact of having Crossland blood doesn’t ensure that a boy will turn out to be a paragon. I’m proof enough of that.”

Squirming from Hunter’s grasp, Johnny approached Lara. His blue eyes were round with interest and awe as he beheld her evening gown. “You look pretty, Mama.”

“Thank you, darling.” Lara bent down and hugged him, careful not to look at Hunter or Naomi. As Johnny had no memories of his own mother, he had tentatively begun to call her “Mama,” and Lara did nothing to dissuade him. She knew it startled the servants, but none of them would dare mention it. As for Hunter’s reaction, he kept his opinion to himself.

Johnny touched a fold of the silver fabric, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. “It looks like metal, but it’s soft!” he exclaimed.

Lara laughed and straightened his cap. “It’s almost bedtime. Naomi will help you wash and change into your nightshirt, and I’ll come in a few minutes to say prayers with you.”

The small black brows drew together in a frown.

“I want to see the ball.”

Lara smiled, understanding Johnny’s curiosity about the strange proceedings. For the past few days he had watched the preparations for the event, the flowers and decorations being brought in, the chairs and stands set up for the musicians, and the laborious efforts of the kitchen staff. “When you’re older you may have your own children’s ball,” she said.

“And when you’re an adult you may attend all the balls you wish-although by then I’m afraid you’ll do your best to avoid them.”

“I won’t be an adult for years an, years,” Johnny said fretfully, enduring Lara’s smiling kiss and trailing after Naomi as she led him from the room.

Left alone with Hunter, Lara was finally able to turn her full attention to him. “Oh,” she said softly, as she received the full impact of her husband in evening clothes-a remarkable sight to behold.

Straightening his cream marcella waistcoat and adjusting his crisp white cravat, Hunter glanced at Lara with a wry smile. His cream pantaloons were snug but not too tight, and his dark blue coat followed the lines of his broad shoulders and lean, well-exercised body with breathtaking precision. He wore his hair unpowdered, the short golden brown locks brushed back from his face. During the past weeks, his complexion had lightened from its startling copper tan to a smooth, light amber.