Chapter One

Winter 1826

Leslie Stewart, Duke of Southcliff, stared out the open window in his family’s chateau just north of Bordeaux, France. The water that filled Gironde estuary shimmered with a silvery hue, sunshine sparkling off the ripples. Egrets and other birds took to the air in a silvery cloud of wings. Today was beautiful, the clouds having cleared early this morning. The rain cleansed the air, leveling any smoke or dust.

He was going to his home tomorrow, back to Glasgow and his new wife, Lacie MacTavish Stewart, the Duchess of Southcliff. The thought gave him reason to smile. The last words he said to her were stay put. He wanted her to remain in his townhouse in the city, but the more he thought on it, he realized doing that would be devilishly uncomfortable for her.

She’d been just seventeen when he wed her, something he felt he needed to do before he left on his final mission for the government and Drake Montgomerie. He wanted her to have the protection of his name and title. The commitment, he felt, was essential. Lacie had been in his thoughts from the moment he first kissed her when she was all of fifteen, the same age as his sister was now. At this time, he regretted his hasty departure, taking leave of his wife without consummating the marriage.

It wasn’t right of him to take advantage of an underage lassie and making love to her at such a tender moment in her life would have been exactly that. Yet he needed to bind her to him before setting off on what he’d told Drake Montgomerie was his last and final mission. Drake had a hell of a time taking no for an answer, but Drake finally convinced him that he was the only one with the skills to succeed in this particular assignment. The ridiculous thing was that he believed Drake.

“You’re leaving?” Jolie, his mother, waltzed into the room with her usual flamboyant style. “I hope you have every intention of begetting an heir sooner than later. It’s what your father would have wanted, no expected. If I’m honest, I suppose I want that too, a grandbaby to hold and spoil.”

Leslie let out a long slow exasperated breath of air, taking his gaze from the window to turn it toward his mother who had a way of annoying him even when she was being sweet. “You do know I’ve wed. She will just be turning eighteen when I return. I’m not going to rush things with my new and very innocent bride. That’s why I’ve stayed away from Glasgow these last few months when I could have left earlier. I’ve no intention of terrifying my wife.”

Jolie waved her hand in the air, grinning at him. “You are too stoic by far, Leslie, and I suppose some of the fault lies with me, certainly not your father. He would have seen you play all day and night with every skirt that wandered past your nose. You should take a page out of your brother’s book and have some fun before you have children to raise and a wife to keep amused.”

“I take my responsibility seriously and by the way, weren’t you just talking about me begetting an heir. Playing with each and every pretty bit of muslin that comes along will not have the desired result. You don’t want any bastards, neither do I.” He sighed again, the air leaving his lungs slowly. This was the same conversation he had daily with his mother. “And we all understand the ways of Link. That isn’t for me.”

“Of course you take your obligations well in hand, it’s what you’ve been tutored to do since you were born. We both understand the responsibilities that go with the title. Is your new wife up to those requirements? Will she make our family proud?”

“I’m sure she will do fine,” Leslie said, turning his attention back to the scene outside as well as thoughts of Lacie.

“Brandy? Or perhaps an aperitif, dinner will be served soon.” His mother effectively changed the conversation to something less annoying. It seemed his mother knew just how far she could push him.

“You choose.” His thoughts returned to Lacie then, “Actually, I’ve no idea how Lacie will handle the duties. She’s always been a handful for her guardian, impulsive in nature, a bit like Merry. We all understand the kind of innocent trouble my sister can get herself into without even blinking.”

“If it’s left up to me, I’ll have a brandy now and an aperitif later.”

Jolie found the brandy, pouring them both a glass before she sat down. Her gaze riveted on him as if she was trying to see into his mind, ferret out his plans for his future. Sometimes, Leslie was sure she saw too much, more than he ever intended for anyone to see.

He sipped, once more turning his attention back to the view he’d been admiring earlier. From his vantage point, he could see the ship that would return him to Scotland. On board were several cases of wine. One was filled with Sauternes, a sweet wine he was sure Lacie would like. The other cases were filled with varying Bordeaux wines, red as well as white. Even from this vantage point, he could see the hustle on board his ship. He was eager to get on his way, excited to see his new bride.

“Your last night here, you could pay me a bit more attention.” Jolie sighed dramatically as she waltzed across the room to stand next to him. “I won’t see you for months, I’m sure. Should I join you in Glasgow when your child is born? I believe I’d enjoy a diversion.”

He turned, leaning nonchalantly against the windowsill, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t need me to pay attention to you, mother. There are others in this household who do that.” He paused thoughtfully, “Please, don’t come to Glasgow until you’re invited. Your appearance would only serve to make Lacie nervous. She has sisters who will help her if she needs anything, and of course she will have me.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it when you do pay attention to me. Thank God you don’t want me to help out. Crying babies are not my forte.” Jolie smiled prettily, lowering her lashes for a moment. “Changing the subject, my son has become very handsome and debonair. You never told me if your wife will be able to perform her wifely duties. If she is so young…”

Leslie wondered what was behind the smile as well as her attempts to pry into his life. Nothing she asked was appropriate here. “Because it’s none of your business, mother, and I’m not really sure what duties you’re speaking of.”

“Really, Leslie, do I need to get specific. The most important duty of begetting an heir, of course, can she perform or is she a cold fish in bed?”

He choked back a laugh. “That will happen in due time. I’m sure as to the others, Lacie is a quick learner and she will please me. Have you seen my brother? He’s due here. We have important subjects to talk about.” Like how he is a walking scandal even though he’s the most handsome and amenable devil to ever show his face in Bordeaux.

“Don’t tell me you intend to lecture him on his dalliances,” she said, sipping the brandy and looking over the rim at him as if she disagreed with his intentions. “You should take at least one page from his book. He’s enjoying life to the fullest.”

“Need I remind you that Link is the second son and has very few responsibilities in this world. He can afford to be carefree and lighthearted as well as tardy whenever it suits. His constant dalliances are different. He will bring shame on our family name if he keeps this up.”

“Your words are all true. I’m sure in time he will settle down rather than finding the most beautiful widows to entertain in the evenings.” Leslie sat down on his desk, swinging one leg while wondering how he could ever convince Link to change his ways. It was, he decided, most likely an impossible task.

“You know he doesn’t like to be summoned. So, I’m sure he’ll show up when he feels like it and not a moment before,” Jolie laughed, staring at the door as if he was about to walk through it. “I do appreciate your younger brother. He is, you know, a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stagnant pool of dead air.”

“You’re referring to me as the stagnant pool I suppose,” Leslie said dryly, a dark brow arched intuitively. “Doesn’t suit you to take favorites, especially when I control the purse strings.”

“Neither of you are a favorite child. I love you both as well as your charming unique ways. I’m merely pointing out the differences.”

“Nonetheless, Link and I need to talk and I would prefer to do that in privacy, if you understand what I’m trying to say. Pour yourself another brandy then go visit with your daughter. I’m sure she could benefit from your years of wisdom and motherly advice.” He slanted his mother a pointed look, which he was sure she would ignore. “That means when he arrives, I need to have you leave.”

She waved a hand in the air, seeming to stay put, “Balderdash, you can’t keep anything from me. Between the gossip of the servants and your sister’s penchant for blurting the truth, I learn everything. I would quite enjoy listening to the forthcoming lecture to Link.”

“Hate to admit it, but I’m sure you’re right. It’s just I’d like to have a few minutes alone with my brother before I leave for Scotland. I’ve something important to talk to him about as you well know. At the moment, I’d rather the conversation be man to man.”

“Well, I can find something to do. Perhaps teach your sister a bit more about being a lady. She does have a penchant for climbing trees and running around the properties like a little hoyden in her britches, which she seems to prefer over dresses.” Once again, Jolie stared at the door as if the object of her words would waltz through and plop herself unladylike on a chair just to prove her point.

Leslie held back a burst of laughter. His sister was a breath of fresh air. Merry had been named well, but her nickname was the name that stuck. Everywhere she went she left people feeling good about themselves while laughing. His mother was right, however she would need to learn how to be a lady and soon. Angelica Louise was almost fifteen, the same age as Lacie when he met her and kissed her.

He’d been unable to resist the young woman who beguiled him with her smile and tender sensibilities as well as the bit of the hoyden inside her. Even then her eyes simmered with what he was sure was passion or wickedness. He smiled then quickly cleared his throat, hoping his mother would not see the expression and comment on it.

Suddenly, Link burst into the office, windblown, smelling of leather and horse as well as the sunshine, alive as the wind, showing lots of white teeth, very nearly on time. It was only five minutes past the hour. After all, Link was nearing an ample age himself. He was almost twenty-five. He should consider settling down and starting a family.

“I’ve been summoned. I’m here.” Link stepped through the door then quickly hugged his mother. “What is it you want to talk to me about?” He poured a brandy, his gaze focused on him. “Thought you two would have been drinking some of the Sauternes before dinner.”

“Mother wanted both a brandy then an aperitif before dinner. I was willing to oblige her in this.” Leslie regarded his brother who had grown into a devilishly handsome man over the years he’d been living in Scotland. Perhaps he should have come home more often. If he had then mayhap there would not be so many bastards to take care of.

The two of them should stick together in this. “It’s time for you to find Merry, don’t you think?” He pointedly addressed his mother, arching an eyebrow for emphasis.

“Very well, I shall leave the two of you to discuss, well… things, men things.” She didn’t move from the chair. It didn’t appear Link had any qualms about discussing his entertainment with his mother in the room.

“Lord, but it’s a beautiful day. I was riding with Suzette along the banks of the estuary. Nothing like it, I tell you,” Link began with a wink directed toward his mother.

“That’s nice.” Leslie meant to remain patient in this, yet his brother was making it devilishly hard. He had no qualms where it concerned women and bedding them. What he always had a hard time understanding was how there could be so many bastards when he always chose widows and women of experience. The women he knew personally that Link bedded never conceived.

“I’ll take a brandy,” Link said, sitting down, relaxing as if someone in the room would serve him before providing his brother more of his white-toothed smile, seeming to ignore what he must know the conversation would revolve around.

“That’s nice,” Leslie said, dryly, disregarding his brother for the moment. “No one’s waiting on you. Did you manage to stay on your horse or take a side diversion to some place private?”

Link laughed, the sound rolling pleasantly off his tongue, “Just wanted to test you.” He rose then returned with his drink, smiling more widely. His eyes, upon closer inspection, appeared somewhat vague.

He had the look of a sated man, a look the duke was becoming quite familiar with the longer he remained in Bordeaux and in the company of his little brother. “We need an accounting,” Leslie began. “An update on all your children.”

“Well,” Link said after another moment of silence, “If you insist upon these meetings every time you’re in town, I must do something to make them worthwhile.”

Leslie turned to Jolie, nodding as if this time she would understand what he wanted. She smiled, sipping her brandy. “Don’t mind me. You two go ahead and talk. I’ll just sit here and not say a word. Won’t even listen.”

“Mother?” The pointed question should get the desired results, but she still wasn’t moving. “If you don’t go, we will. There are plenty of rooms in the chateau, as well you know.”

“Very well,” she said in a huff, flouncing from Leslie’s office as if she’d been insulted. “Dinner will be at seven. The two of you don’t be late.”

Leslie had been waiting for their mother to leave. When she did, he turned to Link, “Suzette? Why her?”

“The widow is quite soft and sweet smelling, brother, and she knows how to please a man. Ah, does she ever do it well. Also, she’ll not get caught. She’s much too smart for that, my Suzette. There will be no bastards coming from her.”

“She sits a horse well,” Leslie said, hard pressed not to smirk or laugh. “I’ll admit that much. I suppose she won’t cry foul and demand marriage if by some perverse chance she did conceive.”

“Hah man and that’s not all she sits well,” Link laughed again, thoroughly enjoying life, his life, while putting Leslie’s lecture away as something inconsequential.

Only through intense resolve did Leslie keep his grin to himself. He was the duke. He was the head of the far-flung Stewart family. Even now there might be another Stewart growing despite Suzette’s intelligence. Link didn’t seem to care that he was siring bastards in almost every part of Bordeaux as well as Paris.

“We don’t have all night,” Leslie said impatiently, but Link continued as if there was nothing he had to apologize about.

He must have seen the twitch of his lips because Link laughed outright one more time.

“Yes, we must proceed in ways that make us the happiest. There are better things waiting for us around the corner, so to speak, don’t you think?” He raised the glass of brandy toward Leslie. “Here’s to all women and the sweet pleasures they share with us the male species.”

“Now,” Leslie continued reading the top sheet of paper in front of him and trying his best to ignore Link’s toast to women, “I need to confirm some things. As of this meeting you have three quite healthy sons, four quite healthy daughters. Poor little Jacque died during the spring. Julia’s fall doesn’t appear to have had lasting injury to her arm. Is this up to date? Or do you have more children to be accounted for?”

“I will have another baby making its way in February. The mother appears hardy and healthy. So, in a few months I will have another precious child. They are very important, you realize. They must be taken care of and given every opportunity in this life.”

Leslie sighed heavily, staring at the floor for a few seconds before continuing the conversation. “Very well. Her name?” As Link replied, Leslie wrote. He raised his head. “Is this now correct?”

Link lost his smile and downed the rest of his brandy. “No, Roger died of the ague last week. He is no longer with me, poor fellow.”

“You didn’t tell me.” Leslie thought he should be informed sooner than later, but Link had his own timetable he followed.

Link lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “The poor baby wasn’t even a year old, but so bright, Leslie. I knew you were busy, what with the trip home to your new bride, the mission as well. Didn’t want to bother you with something like that even though I knew it was important.”

“I’m sorry,” Leslie said again. Then he frowned, concentrating, thinking he must be missing something. “If the babe is due in February, why didn’t you tell me when I arrived home?”

Link said simply, “Because I didn’t know until recently. Can’t tell you something I don’t know, now can I? The mother didn’t tell me because she feared I wouldn’t wish to bed her any longer.” He paused looking out the same window at the estuary that fascinated Leslie earlier. “Silly woman. I wouldn’t have guessed she was with child, although I suppose I should have conjectured. She’s already quite big with the baby. She might well give me twins. Wouldn’t that be splendid? Two blessed children instead of just one.”

Link turned his gaze from the window before swigging more brandy, unable to fathom what seemed to drive his little brother.

“I forgot, Leslie. There is also Sadie.”

Leslie dropped the paper. “Sadie who?”

“Sadie Arbuckle, the draper’s daughter on St. Jean Street. She’s with child, my child. Well, of course it is my child. She will have it in May, my best guess. She was all tears and woes until I told her she needn’t worry. The Stewarts take care of their own. It’s possible she might even marry a sea captain. It doesn’t seem he cares if she’s carrying another man’s child. He loves her, you know. So, we most likely won’t be accountable for the baby or the mother, although I would dearly love to see it when it is born.”

“Well, that’s something.” Leslie picked up the paper he dropped and tallied the numbers on the sheet. “You’re currently supporting six children and their mothers. You have impregnated two more women and their children are due early next year.”

“I believe that’s right. Don’t forget the possibility of the twins or the likelihood of Sadie marrying her sea captain.”

“Can’t you keep your damned rod in your pants?”

“No more than you can, Leslie.”

“Fair enough, but why can’t you remove yourself from the woman before you fill her with your seed?”

Link flushed slightly, a rather strange occurrence for him considering, and said, his words defensive, something else unlike Link. “I can’t seem to keep my wits together when I’m inside a woman. I forget everything except the pleasure, the damn pleasure. There is no rational thought in my muddled brain except the sheer pleasure of it all.”

“You need to figure this out, Link,” Leslie said. “It’s not up to you to singlehandedly populate the entire world.”

“I know it isn’t much of an excuse, but I just can’t seem to withdraw once I’m there, so to speak when the lady is all warm and willing to have me there. Her sultry core quivering with desperate need.” He stared hard at his brother then. “I’m not a damned cold fish like you, Leslie. Your mind never runs off its track. Doesn’t it ever turn into vapor when the pleasure of it all takes over? Don’t you ever want to just keep pounding and pounding in the velvet warmth and the consequences be damned?”

“No.”

Link let out a long slow breath of air, thrumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Well, I’m not so well disciplined as you. Have you not wanted to lose control and everything else could rot?”

“No, can’t say that I’ve ever felt that way. I’ve controlled myself my entire adult life. As far as I know there are no illegitimate children. Now, your lust becomes more costly by the second,” he said after a moment. “Damned costly. You really must do something about this infatuation you have with sex.”

“Stop your frowns and your posturing, Leslie. You’re bloody wealthy, as am I. Where money is concerned, we’ve nothing to worry about even if I sire another ten children.”

“Doesn’t matter, this is not well done of you. I’d like to see a stop put to it in the future. Perhaps in the future you could sire legitimate children.”

“You’re always saying our bastards are our responsibility and so I agree with you. I also agree with this plan of yours, the meetings you know. It ensures we don’t miss any children. I would have quite forgotten about Sadie if you weren’t here to remind me. That would not be well done of us at all.”

Link was chuckling when the door opened. He looked up to see their sister dart quickly into the room then stop, watching them, a hoydenish expression on her beautiful face.

“Ah, if it isn’t Merry. Come in, our meeting is nearly finished. Leslie has already reprimanded me about my bad boy behavior. I’m sure he will find something to lecture you about also. What have you done wrong in the last few months, I wonder?”

Leaning against the door with her arms crossed, Merry seemed amused at all that was happening. Leslie was sure she knew everything that was said by the all-knowing smirk on her face. She was far too intelligent for her age. He would have to be wary of her from now on. She was, after all, nearing the age where she would have to be chaperoned. He groaned at the thought of Link taking over those duties.

Turning to Link, Merry asked, “So, how went the meeting? Mother told me you kicked her out and that she has every intention of getting even.”

“The smirk doesn’t become you, brat.”

“Now, Link. I’m young, true, but I’ve grown up around the two of you. I’m not stupid or innocent. With the two of you as older brothers how could I be uninformed about the ways of men?”

Shocked by what Merry said, the small sip of brandy Leslie just imbibed spewed from his mouth. Leslie wiped the drops off his pants with a handkerchief, staring at his little sister, wondering if he knew her at all. Ways of men?

“Forget what you think you know, Merry. These things we’re discussing are not for the ears of someone your tender age.”

Merry grinned at Link, “How are all your beloved ones?”

“They all do very well, thank you.”

“I won’t say a word,” she said then grinned at him, blew him a kiss before walking toward Leslie who was still sitting on his desk.

He didn’t like the expression on Merry’s face any better than Link’s countenance. She was up to something he knew he would dislike.

Holding his breath for a moment, he eyed her critically. “What are you up to, brat? It isn’t enough that I have to put up with your brother but now you have that same look in your eye.”

She laughed, staring at the brandy glass as if she was about to partake before she turned her attention back to him. She clasped her hands in front of her, appearing sweet and innocent, lowering her lashes a trifle, something she could do very well when she put her mind to it. Now, Leslie was sure he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say.

“I’m going to Glasgow with you. Mother already gave me permission. My bags are packed and on the ship.”

“Blessed hell, you can’t… Jolie can’t… none of you are serious.”

Chaperoning his little sister was not going to be a duty he was prepared for. Thoughts of Flynt MacTavish and his horrible attempts at guardianship of his four younger sisters spread through him too fast for him to contemplate thoroughly. Lord, he was wed to Flynt’s youngest sister and the man wasn’t even invited to the hasty wedding.

“I’ll either go with you, Leslie, or I’ll book passage on another ship. Would you like that better?” That smirking look she did so well was plastered on her beguiling little face again. She lifted her shoulders slightly, the smug expression still there, “It’s your choice.”

“It’s a hell of a choice,” he told her, like being caught between two evils. “I’m leaving first thing in the morning. If you’re not on board, I won’t wait for you. You should also know the weather isn’t the same as here. There is no sunshine, only rain. It’s dreary and won’t suit your sunny disposition.”

“No worries about that either, I’m going tonight. Holcum, you do know the man, the chateaux’s butler. He’s taking me in the carriage right after we eat, which I assume is in a few minutes.” I won’t be a problem, I promise. You won’t know I’m even there. The weather will be a welcome change for me, something different.”

“I’ll hold you to that, brat,” he said, understanding the whirlwind of problems he was about to face.

~ * ~

Lacie bent over the ledgers at her sister’s bakery, her mind in a cloud. Making sense of Daryl’s figures on a good day was difficult, but today her mind was in the clouds. She couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate. There were just too many things swirling around in her head. It seemed Leslie was coming soon. He’d written that he would arrive within the month. That was two months ago, she thought letting go with a heavy breath of air.

It seemed she felt Daryl’s gaze on her back. The more receipts and numbers she scratched out, the harder her sister stared. She sighed, long and deep, wishing she could escape somewhere, find a hole to climb into where she didn’t have to get out.

Daryl’s scribbling was always hard to decipher. The ledger was nearly unreadable, except for the ones Justine made which were neat and precise. But Daryl wanted to take on all the responsibilities here at her business, and she was doing just that.

Once again, though, nothing made sense.

Lacie put this off for as long as she dared. She didn’t want to stay here, in the bakery or even the city any longer than she had to. “Justine, can you come over here for a second and look at something for me?” Lacie really needed someone to explain this last notation.

“Of course,” Justine replied, wiping her hands on her apron as she left the kitchen to sit down beside her. “What do you need? Ah, I see you’re trying to make heads or tails out of this ledger. Sorry for that.”

Heads together, Justine pointed out different things and explained what her sister wrote down as well as the items she purchased that cost the listed dollar amount. She wanted to tell her sister not to touch the board, but she didn’t have the heart to hurt her feelings.

“Thank you. I might need your help again. Don’t go too far,” Lacie said as she pushed flyaway hair from her eyes that seemed to be crossing when she looked at the numbers in front of her.

“Not until the shop closes and that’s hours away. Hopefully, you will be done by then,” Justine laughed, heading for the kitchen. “The boys are delivering leftover goods today. They tell me they don’t need us.”

“I would have turned the job down anyway,” Lacie said, unable to swallow the painful memory ricocheting in her head.

She no longer wanted anything to do with the deliveries, always found some excuse to keep from joining.

“You could have asked me for help with this. It’s my fault, after all, that everything is such a mess for you.” Daryl sat down beside her, clearly annoyed at her.

“True.” She didn’t want to tell her sister just how absurd that idea was. Daryl would never be of any help where this was concerned.

“True? That is just not very well done of you,” Daryl said, eyeing her critically then exasperated she puffed out a breath of air, “I want to learn how to do this the right way, and I did believe I was doing a better job.”

“You are doing better, but it’s still devilishly hard to decipher your writing and while I could have asked you, when I do, you never seem to be able to recall what isn’t written down. Asking would have been a horrible waste of my time as well as yours.”

“I see, you don’t want me to do any of this,” Daryl said, standing before starting back to the kitchen in an obvious huff. “Perhaps you are right. For the good of the bakery, I should only bake.”

“I didn’t say that,” Lacie said to Daryl’s retreating back then looked to see if Justine was watching. Perhaps it was true.

She turned then, “You didn’t have to. You’re my sister and I can read your mind. I’m going to stay in the kitchen for the remainder of the afternoon. At least I can bake and no one criticizes me except to sing my praises.” She continued, back stiff, striding into the kitchen.

Lacie sighed heavily, understanding nothing was going her way. Well, what did she expect? She had spent time trying to teach her sister the ways of making all the numbers make sense as well as readable. As usual, those teachings eluded her sister. Numbers were foreign to Daryl and that was that. Her mind just would not wrap itself around numbers and where organization skills were required, Daryl had none. Her brain was so scattered.

Abstract, nothing in sequence.

The numbers seemed to blur in front of Lacie, and all she could conjure in her head was what happened nights ago, too many to recall exactly, the terrifying feel of the man on top of her as she lay sprawled on the hard ground. She didn’t believe anything could erase that memory from her head. He smelled. Remembering his yellowed teeth made her nauseas even now. Her body shook as the memory collected in her brain.

She touched her breasts, still feeling the pain of his teeth as they closed over them. Suddenly, she ran to the back of the kitchen, reaching the door to the outside just before emptying the contents of her stomach.

“No,” she moaned, “Not again.” She closed her eyes, wishing all thoughts to evaporate into the day’s sunshine. Facing her future seemed distant and bleak.

Breathing was nearly impossible as was walking and talking. She cleaned her mouth, drinking water then made her way into the kitchen. Justine didn’t say anything, just handed her a cup of tea and a cookie.

“Thank you,” she said then went back to her table and the work that was in front of her.

Still, concentration on something that was usually so easy for her, now eluded her. Her stomach rumbled again, but she didn’t have to make a mad dash anywhere.

The tea must be doing its job.

This could not go on indefinitely. The nightmares as well as those images ransacking her brain during the day had to stop. She didn’t know how to go about it though. No one could tell her how to make the nightmares all go away. Daryl told her with time she would no longer remember. She didn’t believe a word.

Despite her best efforts in the following weeks that had passed since the incident, she could not get the horrific night as well as the images out of her head. She breathed in a deep breath, filling her lungs with new air yet nothing helped. Closing her eyes made the horrific pictures clearer. She had not slept, barely ate.

Daryl sat down beside her with a gentle smile, placing a hand over hers, “I know I’ve done a horrible job with the books, ignored most of what you tried to teach me, but losing your meal over my ineptness?”

Lacie wanted to laugh at her sister’s attempts to make her feel better. Nothing helped her forget. She didn’t even believe time would ease the pain as Hope, her brother’s wife, also told her it would.

Hope knew things though, things no one else could comprehend, at least none of her friends or family. She’d had lived in a harem where women had no rights, were abused on a daily basis. The knowledge didn’t help her. She doubted if it helped the other women either. Hope knew how to listen in ways her sisters did not. When the images became too real, she would visit her sister-in-law. The time spent would give her some optimism for the future.

“You know why I lost my breakfast. It wasn’t your insufficiencies with numbers. I’ll figure this out, but you really need to let Justine take care of the ledgers from now on. She is very good, you know. This business is yours. So, it is your right to delegate the responsibilities. It’s just stubborn pride that keeps you doing something you can’t.”

“I don’t like thinking I’m stupid,” Daryl said, leaning back against the chair, looking at the ceiling as if that would give her the answers or teach her how to overcome her issues with computations and organization.

You’re not stupid, Daryl. Numbers have always puzzled you. Nothing has changed. There is no reason to deny that fact. It’s the same for me with cooking. I burn everything or what I make ends up like mush and tasteless. I can’t read a recipe to save my soul. We all have the things we are good at as well as the things we don’t do so well.”

The little bell over the shop chimed as Bliss entered with her twin boys, Garret and Grant, in strollers. They were walking now and the mischief they caused always gave Lacie a reason to smile and forget her troubles. They were heaven sent in her world that was fraught with nightmares and fear. The twins looked so much like Broc. Even at this tender age, it nearly stole Lacie’s breath.

Bliss bent over so she could see their cute little cherubic faces. “See, there is Aunty Lacie and Aunty Daryl sitting at the table, poring over the numbers. If you ask nicely, maybe they will give you a cookie.”

“They don’t say very much yet,” Daryl said. “Let me hold one and Justine will bring each a cookie.”

“Can’t help but try. They do say da, da, a few other words as well. Haven’t gotten either one to say ma, ma and Broc holds the fact over my head on a daily basis even though I tell him if he keeps it up, I will withhold his nightly privileges. When I do that, he just smirks at me with the grin that tells me he knows ways to get around my threats.”

Lacie wanted to tell her sisters they could say whatever they wanted because she was married too, but she didn’t feel comfortable telling them. Yes, she married Leslie with only the minister, his wife and Kelly as witnesses then he left. She hadn’t seen him since.

It wasn’t well done of him. He did write though. She had to give him credit for that tiny bit of consideration.

“Really, you don’t have to pretend with me. It won’t be that long before I’ll know everything you’re speaking of. Perhaps I’ll learn something I can make use of in the future. You tell me all about these nightly privileges and why withholding them would be a punishment.”

“Well, Leslie should marry you as soon as he gets back from whatever it is he’s doing and teach you himself. I don’t understand what is taking him so long,” Daryl said to her, assuming an angry edge that matched Lacie’s feelings.

“Lacie is not yet eighteen. Maybe he is honoring that magical birthday and he won’t return until January,” Bliss pointed out. “I for one have never quite understood that number or the magic. We all know women who have wed before eighteen.”

The thought made her smile. For some reason, at least for the self-proclaimed bad boys, they didn’t touch a woman who was under that special age. So, perhaps that was why he was still gone. Her birthday was a couple months from now.

“He might be like Cam and refuse to even kiss you,” Bliss said. “Chelsea was so angry and frustrated. She didn’t know how to tell Cam she would never tell Flynt if he kissed her.”

“Leslie has kissed me so I suppose the age limit doesn’t apply to kissing,” Lacie said with a small smile, remembering the few times yet with that memory the nightmare returned.

“We all know kisses lead to other things and it’s those other things they forbid themselves,” Daryl said with and all-knowing smile.

One of the little boys tugged at her skirt, looking at her with gorgeous aqua colored eyes just like his mother’s. He’s going to be just like his daddy,” Lacie said, grinning at the little boy and ruffling his hair.

“And how is that?” Bliss laughed, seeming to know the answer before Lacie could say the words.

“He’s a charmer and totally irresistible. All he needs to do is look at me and I want to give him anything he is asking for,” Lacie said. “Including all the cookies he can eat.”

“He probably wants his diaper changed,” Bliss pointed out.

“Well, he won’t get a diaper change from me. I’d most likely botch the job. Believe that’s your department, big sis. Comes with having children, which I don’t.”

“Probably should learn some time,” Bliss said. “If you’re still thinking you might want to marry Leslie someday.”

“Did you know anything about babies before you were married?” Daryl asked, a smug grin on her face.

Bliss laughed. “Of course not, it wasn’t one of the things we were taught at home,” Bliss said.

“Who would have taught us?” Lacie pointed out.

“Flynt was the only one available. I’m sure he didn’t know the intricacies of diaper changing,” Daryl said laughing.

“A bad boy knowing how to change a diaper…? Who would have ever thought such a thing?” Lacie asked, wondering if Leslie was just as ignorant about babies as she was. Then with a sigh, it didn’t really matter anyway. After what happened to her that night, she didn’t want anything to do with men or babies. She supposed he would have to seek an annulment to their hasty marriage.

“Hardly,” Bliss said and the conversation lagged for a moment.

Lacie went back to the myriad of numbers in front of her with Daryl and Bliss chatting about their husbands.

She had a husband she barely knew, a nonexistent husband for that matter. A husband she wanted to remain nonexistent because she didn’t know if she could bare his touch. The irony didn’t escape her.

A few minutes later, the little bell chimed again.

“Grams,” Lacie rose to give her grandmother a big hug. She wished she could confide everything to the woman who helped Flynt raise her, wished too she could tell everyone she was married. Grams had always been the person to listen, to wipe tears away in bad times and to laugh with in good ones.

“How are you doing? I’ve been worried about you. My, I still can hardly believe I’m a great-grandmother. I feel just too young.” She gave the twins each a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she sat down next to her then turning to Daryl. “Could I get a cup of tea and a ginger cookie?”

Lacie grimaced, looking at her grandmother once again thinking this would be so much easier if she could tell everything. Yet Leslie had never said not to mention their marriage and had expected her to stay in his home. Maybe she was the only one who didn’t want anything to be mentioned about the quick vows. “I’m taking one day at a time.”

“Are you able to sleep at night yet, without the nightmares?” Grams set her hand on Lacie’s, squeezing gently. “I could stay at the townhouse if that would help. I’d be happy to do that.”

“I just want to get away and be alone. Nothing is going to help accept time, at least that’s what Hope is telling me. But how much time?”

Lacie needed to scream and pound her fists on something hard. Needed to ride across the fields and let the wind sift through her hair, until she couldn’t remember. Perhaps that was all she needed, the wind on her face as well as a little alone time.

“I think everyone is different in this,” Bliss said as she watched the boys toddle their way into the kitchen.

Daryl rose to go after them.

“Stay here and relax, I’ll go after them,” Grams said, standing and heading toward the kitchen.

Justine brought them out, one in each arm, laughing as she set them on the floor near their mother. “Look what I found in the kitchen. I believe they want a second cookie. They are so adorable.”

“Don’t you dare,” Bliss said. “They are incorrigible enough without the sweets. If they eat too much food like that, they will be awake all night and Broc will spend the hours frowning at me wondering why there is no peace and quiet to be had in our household.”

“See, I’m learning all the time,” Lacie sipped the tea while ignoring the cookie. “I would bet that with one-year old twin boys there is never alone time despite what they eat.”

“Speaking of food, you need to eat more,” Grams said, “You are growing too thin.”

“Really, you haven’t noticed her bosom lately then,” Daryl said. “She is growing daily, nothing thin about that part of my sister.”

Lacie felt the heat rise to her face. Her large bosom was not something she needed to be reminded of. She was painfully aware of the fact, second by second, her breasts were still getting larger. They were a source of embarrassment to her and even the good-humored jests didn’t make her feel any better.

“So, when did you decide to move back to the country?” Grams patted Lacie on the hand, still appearing concerned. “It’s not an impulse decision is it? You’ll be all alone since everyone is in town for the winter months.”

“In a week or so. I’ve really nothing more to do here as long as Justine keeps the ledgers. I’ll pack up my things and have Ashford help me settle in. I’m sure Flynt and Hope are getting ready to welcome a baby into this world and don’t need someone else in the house to get underfoot. They need their privacy. In subtle ways I’m reminded of that fact daily.”

“Well, someone should help you pack and move,” Daryl said, looking into the kitchen. “Donal probably won’t mind lending you Ash for the day, that is if Emilia will also let him go.”

Lacie picked up Grant who was once again tugging at her skirts. “Are you after my cookie, little man. Can’t give it to you unless your mother gives the go ahead. What do you think? Should we ask her?”

The little boy gurgled something unintelligible as he reached a pudgy hand for the desert.

“Don’t you dare,” Bliss said again this time a bit more sternly. “One cookie is enough. Now where is Garret?”

“He likes the kitchen.” This time Emilia brought the little boy out. “Maybe he’s going to follow in his aunties footsteps and become a chef.” She set the boy in his stroller then to Lacie. “Of course Ash can help. If he doesn’t, he’ll be relegated to the couch for the week.”

Bliss laughed. “There is nothing like keeping men in line by telling them no when they ask for their husbandly rights.”

“You can do that? Tell them no?” Lacie asked, filing away that bit of information for the time, if ever Leslie comes home.

“Of course you can, at least we can,” Daryl laughed. “When you finally marry Leslie, you’ll have to figure it out for yourself. There will be ways. I’m sure you can let him know he’s gone too far with his manly demands and righteous airs.”

“It depends on the man. I couldn’t tell my first husband no. If he wanted me, he took me and he never cared how I felt,” Emilia told her with a heavy and long drawn out sigh. “Ash isn’t anything like that. I don’t think I would ever have a reason to tell him no. I like the way he makes love to me, the way he feels next to my body when we are in bed.”

“As do I,” Bliss said, laughing. “Broc is a wonderful lover just as he showed me time and again before we married. He doesn’t let me forget. Has an ego bigger than anyone’s, but again I love the fact that he is so confident.”

This time when the bell chimed, Hope walked in. “Can I get a cup of tea, strong with a little milk and lemon,” she asked before she sat down across from Lacie.

“Coming right up.”

“How are you feeling?” Grams asked, pointedly looking at Hope’s swollen stomach.

“Now that I’m no longer throwing up, I feel fine.” She reached for one of the cookies on the platter in front of her.

“Ginger cookies are supposed to start labor. How close are you?” Grams asked.

“Still a month to go.” She nibbled on the cookie. “Wouldn’t mind having the baby early as long as he’s healthy. I’m exhausted and tired of not being able to see my feet.”

“He?”

“Flynt is positive it’s a boy so I humor him.”

“That is hard to get used to. Broc is already talking about more children. I keep telling him to bite his tongue. The twins need to be more self sufficient before I go down that path again.”

“When will that be?” Hope asked.

“Another year or so, praying there are no mistakes. He has a horrible time withdrawing from me, and he says he doesn’t want to use a condom, so there we are.”

“What about you, Daryl? When are you going to have children?” Bliss asked. “Shouldn’t be too much longer before you become pregnant if you aren’t already.”

“I’m late. I know,” Chelsea rushed in breathless, her baby in a stroller.

“We’re all here then,” Bliss said grinning.

“I can’t seem to get anywhere on time.”

“Babies will do that to you but back to Daryl. Are you expecting yet?” Grams asked.

“No, I don’t believe so. Perhaps it’s too early to tell,” Daryl said with a shrug.

“You’ve only been wed a few months. Of course it’s too soon to tell for sure, but I’m guessing you have an idea,” Bliss said, watching her younger sister very carefully.

Lacie didn’t think they should be prying, but they’d always wanted to know each other’s business. “You all should leave her alone. After all this issue is between the newlyweds, don’t you think?”

Good Lord, but she’d been married longer than her older sister and she’d yet to have her husband make love to her.

“Any news on when Leslie will make an appearance?” Chelsea asked, picking up the baby from the stroller. She stood by the table, swaying while she gazed at the child.

“Haven’t heard anything from the man for several months,” Lacie murmured. “I’ll probably know when he shows up. Doesn’t seem to believe in schedules. Told me he’d be here but that was over a month ago.” She paused. “But then he has no real reason to apprise me of his whereabouts. We’ve no commitment to each other.” What a bunch of nonsense. She was his wife, or had he forgotten that fact?

~ * ~

A few months earlier

The duke was beyond anxious. He felt in his gut something was going to happen, something he wouldn’t like. He didn’t know just now what it was. Yet he had volunteered for this mission. So, here he was, waiting for something to blow up in his face when all he wanted to do was go home to his wife and make love to her.

He hated feelings like this. They made him feel helpless and that was something he didn’t enjoy. He should have stayed home and taken his chances with Lacie and her brother. He knew he would have never been able to keep his hands off her until she turned eighteen. So, sparks would have flown.

Damned age, why was it so important? It was only a few months. So why couldn’t he wait that long? For that matter, why did a month or two make so much difference?

Leslie dismounted from his stallion, slowly striding to the edge of the surf. The water unhurriedly rolled onto the sand, inching higher as the tide seemed to be coming in. Wind swept the waves turning them to frothy peaks and spewed ocean water into the air. He sucked the salt air into his lungs, felt it gritty and wet against his face. The breeze was strong and sharp, blowing his hair about his head, making his eyes water. The day was cloudy, a dull gray just like his mood.

He cursed, wishing this was not the job assigned to him, but he wanted out of the country. So, Montgomerie sent him to France, his home away from home. Because he was fluent in the language, Montgomerie told him. Because of this he could move about without anyone being the wiser. An added benefit, his mother lived there.

Two days passed. Leslie was bored and restless. As it turned out, he received his instructions from a one-legged beggar who sidled up to him and poked a thick packet into his coat pocket.

He read the letter twice, memorizing the precise instructions then carefully studied each of the enclosed papers and documents. He was in disbelief at what was expected of him. Shaking his head, he folded the papers into their packet, once again wishing he had declined the mission.

It was obvious hours had been spent formulating a plan to rescue this woman, this Caroline Dubois. Montgomerie never explained the reason for this. Leslie was beginning to think it was a ruse to give him what he wanted, an escape from Glasgow for as many months as he needed.

Now, after reading the documents, it was becoming increasingly clear the woman he was supposed to rescue was the mistress of Jean Laurent. She had been stolen a few months ago. He didn’t completely believe that particular story, but the evidence was pointing in said direction. So, some of the tale must be true. Laurent was important to the working political scene in France.

Now after chasing leads, he found General Denis Caron and the location of Caroline. If all the stories were true, she was now the general’s whore. He sold her to the highest bidder, pimping her out to make money. Sometimes she was the wager in card games. He didn’t understand the motive in this scenario. He assumed comprehension was not imperative to rescue Caroline.

He was playing cards with Denis who possessed the key to the room where Caroline was kept prisoner. To Leslie the game seemed rigged in his favor. Perhaps the general enjoyed giving her to men. Now he was handed the key, told he could perform sexually with this woman since he won and that he was to be pleasured by her. This time it was free but if he enjoyed himself, he would have to pay the going price for further encounters.

He said the wench loved threats and a bit of pain, liked the sex rough. The bloody fool decided to shadow him. “Because,” he said as they climbed the stairs to the third floor, “she isn’t exactly trained fully as yet. She’s a novice, if you get my drift.” Leslie watched the man unlock the door and stride inside, hoping and saying a few prayers as well that the man was not intending to watch.

He followed, saying nothing. It was a spare room with only a bed and dresser and one small circular rug in the middle. There was only one occupant, a single woman standing in the middle of the room wearing what appeared to be just a robe. Was this Caroline Dubois? He assumed so.

The general grinned drunkenly at her and said with a flip of his hand. “Strip off the robe, Caro. Lord Stewart needs to see what he’s going to be enjoying tonight.”

The woman hesitated then complied. He’d expected someone younger, though why he should have he didn’t know. No, she wasn’t really a girl, Leslie thought, looking at her more closely, rather a woman in her mid-twenties. She was obviously scared and she was lovely, despite her pallor, the shadows beneath her eyes were very dark. She was overly thin.

The man waited silently until she’d stripped to her shift. Then he lurched toward her, grabbed her chin in his fingers and kissed her, fondling her breast with his other hand through the thin lawn. Suddenly, he grabbed the front of her shift and ripped it off.

He laughed, saying over his shoulder to Leslie, “I wanted to see if you approved of her. A bit thin for my taste, but she does have nice bubbies.”

He pushed her onto the bed, leaned over her, and said low, “You see this man, my girl? You do everything he wants you to do or… you know the punishment, don’t you? I would like to stay and watch, but I’m tired.” He straightened and turned to Leslie. “You are quiet. Don’t you think she is lovely? Not a virgin, but not overused either. She belongs to me, and now, because she isn’t stupid, she obeys my every command. So, you may enjoy her but as I said, just for tonight.”

The man stumbled out of the room. Leslie moved after him, listening as his footsteps receded along the corridor then down the stairs. He listened to another door open and close on the second floor. He turned back to face the woman.

She was standing now by the bed, trying to cover herself with her hands. Leslie couldn’t believe his good fortune, but he wasn’t about to doubt it, not for a moment.

His voice was urgent as he strode to her. “Is your name Caroline Dubois?”

She was tiny, very fair, her hair falling straight down her back nearly to her waist. She had light blue eyes, very blond brows and lashes. She was lovely.

“Are you?” he asked again.

She nodded, taking a tiny step backwards.

“Don’t be afraid of me. I’m here on behalf of Jean Laurent. He wanted me to find you and bring you some place safe, somewhere out of the general’s reach. He seeks revenge for your kidnapping.”

She was cowering in front of the bed, speechless and Leslie was losing patience with her. He wasn’t about to do anything here that would send the general after him. This was the woman he was sent to rescue. He would see her safe even if she decided she would be better off with the general.

“Do you know Jean Laurent?”

She nodded, still obviously afraid of him, not believing for a moment despite the flare of hope he’d seen flash through her eyes.

“You need to dress, quickly. I am here to take you away, to Jean. We must hurry.”

“I don’t have any gowns.”

Leslie looked around the room searching. “A cloak, anything. Come we must hurry.”

“Why should I believe you?”

So, there was some spirit left in her.

She was nearly strangling on her fear but she still kept talking. “I know that he gave me to you. He said so, and I know why he did it.”

“It’s because I won a wager.”

“Oh, no, not that,” She became even paler. Her rouged lips parted then closed. She shook her head, saying in a rush. “He wants me to find out what you will tell me about the government when you return to Paris. He’s worried also that you are a spy and will deceive him. If you try to take me away from here, he will discover it and kill us both. He told me I must learn the truth or he will kill my daughter. He says he has her and she won’t continue to live.”

“Ah.” Leslie smiled down at her and gently began to run his hands up and down her thin arms. So, the general hadn’t been drunk after all. The game, the wager, his loss, it had all been the generals plan to trap him. Not bad. It was nice of Caroline to inform him.

He felt the usual surge of excitement in this adventure, wondered if he would be happy living without it. “Easy now,” he said absently, trying to calm her, all the while thinking furiously. “Where is your daughter? Once we get out of here, we will get her and bring her with us. I promise she won’t be hurt.”

Caroline started. “She’s at the farm, two miles from Saint-Émilion to the north. He says he has a man there watching her and that the man will kill her if I don’t do as he orders.”

“If I know Jean, he’s already taken care of any guards at the farmhouse. Truly my job here is to save you. Jean will save your daughter. Now let’s get you dressed in something. I am taking you and your daughter to London where you will be protected until Jean can come to you.”

“London,” she said slowly, her dark eyes wide with surprise. “We only speak French. I wouldn’t know what to do or say?”

He waved his hand, dismissing her fears. “It doesn’t matter. Many people speak French in London and you will learn. Jean lives in the city much of the time and he can teach both you and your daughter the language.”

“But—”

“No, I can say no more. We can’t linger here any longer. Jean wishes me to take you to London, so that is what I will do. You will be safe there until he returns to fetch you. There are chores he must attend to in France before he can leave. Will you trust me?”

She looked at him, worship and trust shining from her face and said simply, “Yes.”

“Good. Now, listen to me. Here’s what we will do. First, we will find something for you to wear even if I have to wrap that bed sheet around you.” Leslie wondered as he stared down into that pale tense face that she held such trust for him why people in general and females in particular believed him to be some sort of Saint George. He hated it but at the same time he found it amusing. He thought of Jean Laurent and fervently hoped she would remember him in her thoughts. After all, he was a married man now.