Untamable Rogue (Formerly: A Christmas Baby) (32 page)

“You
admit
that you missed having me in your bed?”

“Not as eloquently as you admitted as much.”

Lark tugged on his forelock. “I wish you would make a try at eloquence.”

Ash chuckled, leaned on an elbow, and toyed with her rosy nipples. He even toyed with the notion of telling her he loved her, but feared the possible rejection, or breach, that a lone revelation might engender. “Let me admit that when you stepped into my bath, I prayed, like I have never prayed before, to the angels and saints on high, that you came to me with the express purpose of seducing me.”

Lark bit his ear. “I admit …
nothing
.”

Ash chuckled and relaxed in a way he had not for weeks. “Do you know how many nights I sat beside your bed and watched you sleep? I knew such joy that you carried my child, but such loneliness at our resultant separation.”

Lark bit her lip and Ash knew that as a woman of her word, she would not, after all, admit to anything, not even to missing him. “What about your stipulation that I stop coming to your bed now that you are with child?” he asked, unable to leave it unspoken.

“You have just declared my stipulation null and void,” she said. “I make no quarrel with your pronouncement.”

“I honor my contracts, Madam. If you wish such a separation, you will have it, but you must tell me so.”

“And will you take my every future request at naught, if I rescind this, my first?”

“Your first was made at pistol-point, you must remember, though I’d as soon not, at which juncture you carried through with your threat. Bearing that in mind, and elsewhere, which remains scarred and tender, I shall never make the mistake of taking any of your requests at naught.”

Lark seemed to ponder some high mathematical equation then she nodded, as if satisfied with her account. “I did not tell you about the babe, for I disliked the notion of you leaving my bed. There. Make sport of me, if you will.”

Ash crushed her to him, pleased he’d brought her that far. “I am sorry you could not bring yourself to share your concerns, Lark, though I understand, for trust has always come hard to me as well.” He hoped the confession would set them on a path to trust, but as he awaited her reaction, he saw that his sated bride had fallen asleep and likely heard not a word.

Six weeks before Christmas, ten triple truckle beds arrived, which Lark ordered placed in the nursery, and adjoining bedchambers, for the rogues’ children and their assorted nursery maids.

Ash watched astonished as the beds were carried inside. “Good God,” he said. “How much did all this cost?”

“We will pay a quarter the cost. Each of the rogues with children will. Those are community truckles. We are like to take turns at house parties, Alex said, and ‘twould be foolish for us all to make the investment, so the truckles will be sent to whichever house hosts the next gathering.”

“Alex is a quick one, but you’re catching up, by God.”

“She had to be quick, did she not, carrying the burden of her entire family while Hawk was off fighting Boney?”

“Yes,” Ash said, kissing his wife’s brow and stroking his growing child with a possessive rush. “You are kindred spirits, I don’t doubt, which is why you like her so.”

“She is my first and best friend.”

“Take care that you and your friend do not plan us out of house and home. Do not mistake me, for I am looking forward to Christmas, but as it stands, I must slaughter enough livestock for beef and pork to feed them all, and likely sell one of our few remaining paintings as well.”

“Save the painting, for I have a notion about feeding them. Early each morning, you must make up a hunting party. We will eat whatever you shoot. Just take care to bag a variety—goose, swan, hare, pheasant, partridge … whatever you will. You should fish the lake as well.”

“Will you require boar and venison too?”

“For boar’s head?” She grimaced. “I pray you will not. As for venison, that would be lovely.”

“And supposing we have ill luck in our sport?”

“If we eat bread and butter or toasted cheese, if our pudding have more flour and suet than meat, then so be it, for we will all be together for Christmas.”

“A bride with all the answers,” Ash said, kissing her brow. “When is Alex due to arrive so you may make your plans? I think I may have to be away.”

“When you do not even know the day?” Lark scoffed. “Tuesday week,” she said, “and see that you are to hand.”

When Alex saw Lark, she hesitated. “Good grief,” she said as they embraced, her babe between them, “you are as big as I was the first time I visited, and with all of three months to go, you poor thing.”

“Fat, I know.” Lark patted her belly with pride.

“As a prize sow,” Alex said with twinkling eyes.

Lark’s face warmed as they walked arm in arm up the steps to the house.

They began by looking over the wooden toys Stan crafted as gifts for the children in attendance. In trying to make certain they had enough, Alex and Lark were forced to make a list so as to count their numbers.

Lark sat with quill and parchment while Alex paced the drawing room with a fussing Brandon. “Gideon and Sabrina have two sets of boy twins, and Juliana.”

“
Two
sets?” Lark said.

“Three-year-old Caleb and Josh are Gideon’s own, though Gideon adores Julie, Damon and Rafe. Beware; Hawk calls the older twins Demon and Rapscallion, for he is their uncle by blood, having been half-brother to Sabrina’s first husband.”

“I will never get any of it straight.”

“You will in time. Mark two children for us, Brandon here, rooting for nourishment, and Beatrix, and your two. That makes how many, nine? As for Reed and Chastity…. Alex searched her reticule for a list she snapped open with a flick and handed to Lark, and then she unfastened her bodice for her son to suckle.

Lark scanned the list. “Matthew, Mark, Luke, Rebekah, Harry, Sidney, Brenna, Clarice, Jillian and Meggie. Chastity must be a saint. How old are they all?”

“Lord, no one knows. Their own twins, Jillian and Meggie, are six months old now. As for the rest, none are older than thirteen, as close as anyone can guess.”

“Are twins rampant with rogues?”

“Reed himself is a twin, so ‘twas no surprise he and Chastity produced a set. Gideon’s Sabrina has borne twins for two husbands, so the fault must be hers.”

“I am anxious to meet Chastity and Sabrina,” Lark said.

“They will love you.” Alex tried to rouse her son to resume his meal, but it was useless. “There, you,” she said kissing his milky lips, “asleep again, and only two drops taken.” She closed her bodice to put him to her shoulder.

“I am envious,” Lark said, her arms wanting.

“Not for long. Soon, you will simply be tired.”

Lark perused her lists. “Nineteen children, six rogues, four wives—and a score of nursery maids and servants—all here for Christmas.” She paled. “What have I got myself into?”

Alex soothed her fears before they determined the traditions they would observe, who would occupy which chamber, who would need cradles. “I brought bed linen to lend you,” Alex said. “Claudia lent us extra as well for she and Chesterfield will go to his family for the holiday.”

“We should sit with cook while you are here,” Lark said. “She is hopeful of direction.”

Alex organized meals in a trice, while Cook took to the notion of feeding so many with an air of anticipation. “Too long since we did Christmas,” she said. “Can’t wait to fill my kitchen with scents of roast goose and plum pudding.”

“You may not realize,” Lark said to Alex as they left the kitchen, but you taught me a great deal today about organizing a house. I will be a better manager after this.”

“Do not tell Hawk. He says I will manage him into his grave.”

Over tea, Alex began a new list. “Which decorations will we find outdoors?”

Lark frowned. “The decorations are in the attic.”

“No, the fresh decorations—holly, ivy, mistletoe, rosemary…. Collecting them is entertainment at a house party. Have you never gathered Christmas greenery?”

“I will be a dreadful failure,” Lark wailed.

“Sit,” Alex said. “Put your feet up. “You do not do this alone. Chastity will lead the children in a Christmas theatrical. Sabrina will oversee decorating the house. For my part, I will stand beside you in all things, though I cannot wait to decorate your Christmas tree. It will be my first, but not my last.

Lark could only shake her head.

“This will not be as bad as you perceive,” Alex promised. “Besides, Sabrina plans to put the rogues themselves to work, even as regards to the children.”

“Hah! This I would like to see.”

“Oh, you will.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Lark could not believe that Christmas and her house party were upon her. She and Alex stood watch at the drawing room window, the frolicking babe in her belly keeping her from getting as near to the glass as she wished.

Anticipation and trepidation rode her in turn. “Who should introduce who?” she asked again.

“Forget the rules,” Alex said. “No formalities are to be observed among friends this Christmas. Everyone will be excited and speak at once, introducing themselves, kissing and embracing. Oh, and back-slapping. The rogues are fond a good back-slap. They consider it manly.”

“If you were not beside me, I would die,” Lark said.

Alex squeezed her hand. “I would not miss your first Christmas.”

A rare snow had begun to fall well before the first set of carriages clattered up the drive. When they did, Lark and Alex went to wait on the steps. Ash stepped out a minute later to place Lark’s wrap about her shoulders.

He chuckled when he saw the same crest on all three carriages. “I cannot believe it takes so many to carry the St. Yves brood. You will not credit it, Lark, but I remember a time when Reed disliked children of all things.”

Nevertheless, too many to count poured from the second and third carriages, one each bearing a woman too well-dressed to be a nursery-maid. Alex told Lark ‘twas Reed who stepped from the first carriage, and accepted two bundles, likely so Chastity could alight.

Ash ran down to offer Chastity his hand, and greet them, and then Lark and Alex ushered them from the cold in a trice.

Formalities were dispensed with—embraces, only, between rogues’ wives, even at first meeting, Lark should not be surprised. And between the rogues themselves, handshakes, and back-slaps.

Reed bowed to Alex and Lark. “May I introduce my sisters, Pegeen and Sunny, who give a great deal of loving care to their nieces and nephews.”

Pegeen and Sunny curtseyed their silent greetings.

Lark admired Chastity at once. She organized her children with a word so they stood like stair steps, then she rattled off their names down the line and laughed at Lark’s uncertainty. “Do not try to remember names. Soon enough the brigands’ quirks will single them out.” She had unwrapped both baby girls, hers and Reed’s, while speaking.

Lark relaxed. “If Sabrina is as efficient as the two of you, I may as well stop worrying about anything going wrong. I do not think any of you would allow it.”

Reed put an arm about his wife’s shoulders. “You are right there, but do not ask her to cook you anything.”