Tender Rebel

Page 40

"There's one way to prove that, isn't there?"
He was furious at James' interference, but mostly at her. How dared she put him through hell, then, because of a simple note, admit she was wrong? He didn't want her bloody contrition. He wanted her to want him without exception. And she would have before long. Then, and only then, would he have convinced her that she had accused him falsely.
He stalked to the door and threw it open, bellowing for Jeremy. Either James had slipped her that note at the docks, which was doubtful since Anthony had been close to her the whole while, or James had given it to Jeremy to give to her. Whichever, he wasn't going to have her lying about it.
When the boy poked his head out of his room down the corridor, Anthony demanded, "Did your father entrust you with something to give to my wife?"
Jeremy groaned. "Hell's bells, Tony, I thought you'd left. I only just put it… you weren't supposed to see it," he finished lamely.
Anthony crumpled the paper in his hand. "That's all right, youngun. No harm done."
He closed the door again, frowning at his own stupid assumption. She hadn't seen the note. That meant… bloody hell, and he had just antagonized the hell out of her.
He found her on her feet, her hand outstretched, her eyes glittering with indignation. "I'll be taking that, if you please."
"I don't," he replied, wincing to hear her brogue, a sure sign of her temper. "Look, I'm sorry if I drew the wrong conclusion. The note isn't important. What-"
"I'll determine what's important. If that was on my vanity, then it was meant for me, no' for you."
"Then take it."
He held out his hand, palm up. When she came forward and took the ball of paper, he didn't give her a chance to read it. His fingers closed over hers and he drew her into his arms.
"You can read that later," he said softly. "Tell me first what you meant by being wrong."
She forgot all about the note now crumpled in her fist. "I told you—about the limitations. I should never have—have placed conditions on our marrying."
"True. Is that all?"
He was smiling at her, that melting smile that turned her to honey. "I shouldna have come to you just for the bairn, but I was afraid I'd get so used to having you that nothing else would matter."
"Did you?" His lips brushed her cheek, the side of her mouth.
"What?"
"Get used to having me?"
He didn't let her answer, his lips slanting across hers, warm, beguiling, stealing her breath, her soul. She had to break the contact herself. "Och, mon, if you keep kissing me, I'll never say it all."
He chuckled, still holding her close. "But none of this was necessary, sweetheart. Your problem is, you've taken a bloody lot for granted. You assumed that I would have let this don't-touch-me stand of yours go on indefinitely. Not so. You also seem to think that I would have abided by any rules whatsoever that you set down for this relationship. Wrong again." He softened this news with another deep kiss before continuing. "I hate to disillusion you, sweetheart, but you get away with your outlandish demands for only as long as I allow you to. And I would have allowed you only a few more weeks, no more, to come to your senses."
"Or?"
"Or I would have moved in here."
"Would you, now?" she retorted, but her lips were twitching. "Without my permission, I suppose?"
"We'll never know, will we?" He grinned. "Now, what else did you want to tell me?"
She tried to shrug. It didn't work. Her senses were reeling with his body pressed to hers, his eyes warm, tender, his lips a breath away.
"I love you," she said simply, then squealed when he squeezed her so tight she couldn't breathe.
"Oh, God, Roslynn, I was afraid I'd never hear you say it! Do you really? Despite what an utter ass I've been half the time?"
"Yes." She laughed, giddy from his reaction.
"Then read that note from James."
It was the last thing she expected to hear at the moment. She glanced at him warily as he set her down on her feet and stepped back. But she opened the paper, too curious now not to. The message was brief, addressed to her.
Since Tony's too pigheaded to tell you, I thought you ought to know that the little tavern wench you assumed Tony dallied with was actually mine for the evening. Tony might have been her first choice, as he was yours, but she had no complaints in settling for me. You've been wrong about the lad, dear girl. I do think he loves you.
Roslynn's eyes were moist as they found his and he drew her gently back into his arms. "How can you ever forgive me, Anthony?"
"You forgave me, didn't you?"
"But you weren't guilty!"
"Shh, sweetheart. It doesn't matter now, does it? You're still the only woman I've wanted since I first saw you—bent over peeking in the Crandals' ballroom and presenting me with your sweet little derriere."
"Anthony!"
His laugh was rich and deep as he fastened his arms tighter around her so she couldn't hit him. "Well, it's true, my dear. I was utterly captivated."
"You were a rake!"
"I still am," he assured her. "You wouldn't want me to become morally proper, now, would you? You won't like making love only in the dark, suitably clothed so no skin touches except what is essential-ouch!" She had pinched him. "I'm not teasing you, my dear." He chuckled. "That's how Warton would probably have made love to you. 'Course, he would have died for it… now, now, no more pinches."
"Then be serious."
"But I am, my girl, most serious." His fingers slid into her hair, spilling pins this way and that, all the while his eyes remained locked to hers. "You became mine that first night, dashing toward me in the moonlight.
You took my breath away. D'you know how much I wanted to make love to you then, right there in the Crandals' garden? What did you feel, sweetheart? ''
"I—I was sorry I couldn't have you."
"Were you?" he asked softly, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, his lips just barely touching hers. "Do you want me now?"
"I've always wanted you, Anthony," she whispered, arms wrapping around his neck. "I didn't want it so.
I was afraid I could never trust you." '
"Do you trust me now?"
"I have to. I love you—even if you don't—"
He put a finger to her lips. "Oh, my beautiful, silly girl. Didn't you read all of my brother's note? My whole family knows I love you to distraction without my telling them. Why don't you?"
"You do?" she gasped.
"Would I have let you run rings around me if I didn't?"
"But why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't want to marry me, sweetheart," he reminded her. "I practically had to twist your arm. And even when you agreed, you did everything possible to keep a distance between us. Would you have believed me then if I had told you I loved you? Roslynn, why else would I marry you?''
"But—" There were no but's. She kissed him, and kissed him again, her heart nearly bursting with joy.
"Oh, Anthony, I'm so glad you did. And I'll never, ever be such a fool again, I swear—"
He told her, in between kisses, "You can be a fool… whenever you like… as long as you don't stop loving me."
"I couldn't, even if I wanted to. Will you?"
"Never, sweetheart. You may depend upon it."
Chapter Forty-five
"Iunderstand congratulations are in order," Nicholas remarked as he joined Anthony for a smoke in the garden. Sunday dinner at Edward's had gathered the whole clan this time, minus James. "You don't think you're a bit old to be starting a family, Malory?"
"When are you going to visit Knighton's Hall, Montieth?" Anthony countered dryly.
Nicholas chuckled, ignoring the gibe. "Regina's been talking about nothing else since Roslynn told her.
She wants another of her own now."
"That'll be a bit hard to do, won't it, dear boy? According to James, you're in the doghouse."
"Oh, I never stay there long, old man," Nicholas replied, his grin maddening. "Your niece might have the famous Malory temper, but she's not heartless. Besides, she doesn't like to sleep alone."
Anthony glowered. He still couldn't set it right in his mind that his little Reggie was a woman now— with a lusty rake for a husband. Seemed he ought to punch Montieth out for such a remark. 'Course, the whole family'd be down on his head if he did, Reggie in the lead.
"One of these days, Montieth, I'm going to like you. But don't hold your breath."
Nicholas' laughter followed him back into the house, rubbing him raw. Regina met up with him in the hall, however, to dispel the mood.
"Have you seen Nicholas, Tony?"
"Wish I hadn't, but he's in the garden."
"You didn't have words again, did you?" she asked, frowning.
"What can I say, puss?" He shrugged, then added deliberately, "But you'll notice I left. He goes for blood these days."
"Famous! Oh, when will you twoeverget along?"
"We're too much alike, my girl, and we know it. But do me a favor and drag him back in the house, will you? I'd like to stroll with the wife, and a little privacy wouldn't be amiss."
Anthony was grinning when he left Regina. Hopefully Montieth would be back in the doghouse tonight, and the poor sod wouldn't even know what he'd done wrong. That thought brought a chuckle. One of these days Reggie was going to realize that he and Nicholas delighted in their verbal sparring. There'd be hell to pay then, but for now, Anthony counted himself the winner of this round.
He found Roslynn had been cornered by Edward, and he just caught her last words as he approached.
"But I don't want to double my money. Hell's teeth, what would I do with more of it?''
"I should have warned you, sweetheart, that Eddie boy would be after you. He can't stand to see money just sitting around."
Edward defended himself. "Well, it's preposterous, Tony. No one ever hastoomuch money, you know.
There are the children to think of, and—"
"And I'm sure Roslynn will let you manage her estate, if she can ever get around to figuring out all it entails."
"That's not fair," Roslynn protested. "I know exactly what I own—I just can't be expected to remember it all." Both men laughed, to her chagrin. "Very well, I'll have my solicitor call on you, Edward. Perhaps this is something I should become interested in."
"Good God, now see what you've done, Eddie," Anthony complained with mock horror. "I don't want her mind filled with figures."
"No, you just want it filled with you." Edward snorted.
"True." Anthony grinned unabashedly. "Now come along, my dear, and let me see if I can find something else for you to be interested in."
Anthony walked her away from the house, until there was only moonlight to light the way. He stopped near the rose bushes, his arms wrapping around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder.
"Do you really want to get involved in the empire your grandfather left you?"
"No, but I'm glad you at least asked." She smiled, her arms wrapped over his.
"Whatever makes you happy, Roslynn, since your happiness is mine."
She turned around in his arms, putting her cheek against his chest, loving him so much she could hardly contain it. One finger drew circles on the soft blue velvet of his jacket.
"There is something," she said in a small voice.
"Anything, sweetheart."
There was a long, shy silence before she asked, "Do you think we could try it again in the chair?"