A Pair of Rogues (7 page)

“What do you suggest I do about it? Eh, Little Ned?” Unaware of Christina behind him, Ned curled his large hand around the baby’s small one. “Someone ought to teach that girl a lesson. Don’t you agree?”

Christina covered her lips to smother a laugh.

“You thought I was a master. That’s because you’ve seen me with your father.” The baby emitted a gurgling sound. “That’s right. I can stir Robert from pompous content to a cold fury in less than fifteen seconds. No one bests me with the taunt. The goad, the spur, the thrust—I’ve mastered them all.

“But this girl—your aunt, as she is so fond of reminding me—is good. I’ll grant her that. She’s quite adept at teasing.”

Christina felt an uncomfortable prickle beneath her skin. She might have listened longer, but she was afraid to hear what else he might say.

She turned to go, but a board squeaked beneath her foot.

“Dobbs?” Ned turned.

Before he could catch her sneaking away, Christina abruptly reversed her direction and stepped boldly into the room.

“So,” she said, “you have decided to poison Robert Edward’s mind against me. Is that it?”

Ned gave a start, obviously disconcerted to have been discovered in such a revealing situation. He made an attempt to cover his embarrassment, leaning back in the small chair to say, “Someone has to look out for the little fellow.” His black eyes gleamed at her wickedly. “If I do not tell him, how is he to know that his aunt is a devilish minx?”

“Is that what you’ve told him?”

“That, and a few other things. Little Ned and I have no secrets. I was about to ask him why his aunt is such an accomplished liar.”

“I beg your pardon, my lord?” Christina bristled.

But he was shaking his head. “No, you don’t. Do not dare pretend to be offended with me, not after the bouncers you told. I was witness to them, remember?”

When Christina could not reply, he asked, “Is that what they taught you in that fancy school in Bath?”

“Yes.” Christina clenched her teeth to overcome a sudden urge to cry. “They taught me to dissimulate.”

“And very well.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

An uneasy silence fell between them.

When she had recovered, Christina said, “Where is Robert Edward’s nurse?”

Ned shrugged and glanced about. “Gone to run an errand, I suppose. She wasn’t here when I arrived, so naturally I stayed to make certain the baby was all right.”

“Naturally.” Christina did not believe him for a moment. To all appearances, Ned had yielded to the same impulse she had. She nodded in a skeptical way. “But if his nurse has been remiss, perhaps we should report her dereliction. Do you not agree?”

Ned shook his head, avoiding her gaze. “Robert Edward was asleep. I’m certain she planned to return before he awoke.”

“Still” —Christina was determined to make him admit the truth—”she ought not to have left him, when any rogue off the street might have crept in to harm him.”

Ned grinned at the barb, giving her a sly wink. “But no one could, you see” —he thumped his own chest— “for Uncle Ned is here to protect his godson.”

“What a comfort that will be to Louisa,” Christina said wryly.

“I’m sure it would be, but I am afraid I must be going now.”

Feeling as if he’d handled this little contretemps fairly well, Ned transferred the baby to his forearm, cradling Robert Edward’s head on his palm. He slowly worked his way out of the chair, grimacing inwardly at Christina’s obvious amusement.

More cannon fodder for her, no doubt,
he stewed bitterly. He hoped she wouldn’t inform Louisa about this episode. He often came to see the baby. He and Dobbs had a comfortable arrangement. Whenever he came to pay Little Ned a visit, she slipped down to the kitchen for a nice cup of tea.

But he did not necessarily want the whole world to know.

If he kept up his bluff, he might still convince Christina that this present occasion was only happenstance.

“Since you’ve come,” he said, meaning to divert her mind, “you can tend to the baby. Here, let me show you how to hold him.”

“Show me?” His high-handed manner provoked her. “I’ll have you know that Little Ned likes for me to hold him. I, at least, know better than to handle him like a football.”

She tried to take the baby away from him, but Ned held the bundle high up over her head.

“Gently now, gently,” he teased her, as she tried reaching first on his right side, then on his left. “No snatching. The baby won’t like it.” He tsked. “Where are your manners?”

Robert Edward let out a scream, no doubt objecting to being the object of a brawl.

“See what you’ve done?” Christina cried. “You’ve upset him!”

“It’s nothing. He’ll recover.” Ned tried to soothe the baby and keep him away from her at the same time.

“Ned, don’t be an oaf!”

The note of real distress in her voice touched a chord deep inside him. “Very well. Since you ask so politely, I’ll let you comfort him. He likes to be held close.”

He laid the swaddled baby in her arms and Christina cooed, hugging him tightly across her breast and swaying with a rhythm which seemed to come naturally.

The baby’s cries abruptly stopped. Robert Edward turned his face into her breast with quick, vicious jerks. He opened his mouth wide, like a mongoose before a snake, and pounced.

His damp, little tongue latched firmly onto her bodice. Christina uttered a squeak.

“Well, well,” Ned drawled. “At least he knows a woman when he sees one.”

He could see her growing red beneath the soft, marbled skin of her cheeks. A pulse had started at the base of her throat, and she made a choking sound, something between a gasp and a laugh.

Frustrated by the mouthful of muslin, the baby released her to try again. His lunges grew more desperate with every attempt.

“Here. You take him.” She tried to force him back into Ned’s arms.

He could see she was flustered.

“Oh, no.” Ned couldn’t keep himself from reveling in her distress. Her voice was all atremble. “I wouldn’t dream of taking him from you. You are doing so marvelously.”

Completely scarlet now, Christina looked up to retort. But she stopped when her eyes met his.

Ned had not sensed his own tension climbing until the shock of her challenging gaze sent a jolt shooting right through him. Exhilaration tingled beneath his flesh, in a way he had not known in years.

And something else he noticed.

Her long, flaxen hair still had the silky shine and the soft, light texture he remembered. Heightened color had brushed her cheeks, giving them the delicate tint of a rose. And, all at once, Christina looked more fragile than he had thought her.

Her breathing had quickened. Her breast rose and fell against the baby’s clinging body.

Who would have thought that a woman could look so ripe with a baby at her breast?

The air between them grew taut as Ned caught a whiff of her perfume. He knew he should pull away, but the devil inside him had been too delighted to see her discomposed. She had made him feel like an ass more than once in the short period he had known her. In the park and again today, entirely unprovoked, she had beaten him at his own game.

Christina was adept at teasing. But for all her grown-up airs, and the tantalizing figure she could not hide, she was still an innocent. Her blush had told him.

He could not resist, just this once, using his advantage.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Perhaps there is something you could do to help the baby,” he said.

* * * *

A shuddering warmth stole through Christina’s body, as his words evoked a shocking image. Still . . . there was no condescension in Ned’s eyes now.

Robert Edward gave a frustrated wail.

Christina ignored Ned’s nearness in her pity for baby. She hugged him closely to her neck, burying her face near his. “It’s all right, little one. Poor baby, please don’t cry.”

“Give me your hand.”

“What?” Christina looked up to find that Ned had moved nearer.

“I said . . . give me your hand.” His command slid over her in a low, stirring voice. He took another step closer, so near his breath stirred her hair.

In a daze, Christina extended one hand . . .

Ned took her palm between his. He held her first finger close to his lips. “The baby wants something to suckle,” he said in that same deep murmur. “You can help him, if you will.”

“Don’t be” —she gasped, then stammered—”d-don’t be ridiculous.” Her voice ended on a squawk.

For Ned had taken her finger into his mouth. His lips moved slowly over it, making it moist.

Christina’s knees went weak.

Before she could protest, he released that finger and whispered, “See?” Then he grasped another and held it out before Robert Edward’s mouth.

Fooled by the touch against his lips, the little marquess latched onto her finger like a vise. Christina choked on a rapid intake of breath. She had never felt such strength.

Then she heard Ned chuckle, and his amusement called forth a surge of rage that threatened to choke her. She opened her mouth to shriek—

“Time for nursies, is’t?” Dobbs’s voice broke in, making them jump and spin towards the door.

She must have entered the room under cover of the baby’s cries, for even Ned had failed to notice her presence.

“Tha should’ve rung for me, your lordship, like tha always does,” Dobbs scolded. “I’m long past done wif m’ tea.”

Christina caught Ned’s disconcerted expression and shot him a look of satisfied vengeance.

Dobbs came to take the baby from her arms. “Tha mustn’t try to calm him thysel’, your ladyship,” she said with a hearty laugh. “It’s me he’s wantin’, and what I’ve got.”

“Shame on you, Dobbs.” Ned cocked a teasing eyebrow Christina’s way. “You will shock the Lady Christina if you mention such an indelicate subject.”

The buxom nurse covered her uneven teeth and fell into a giggling curtsy. “Eh, forgive me, milady. I’m naught but a country girl, for all that.”

Christina raised her nose into the air. “It is of no consequence whatsoever,” she said, grateful that the baby’s cries had stopped.

One whiff of his nurse, and he had let go of Christina’s finger, which had not fooled him for long.

Dobbs fumbled with her smock.

Determined not to let herself be flustered again, Christina fought the urge to flee. But her pulse still raced under Ned’s regard.

“Lord Windermere was having his little joke,” she said loftily. “It is a most deplorable tendency of his.”

“Tha’ doesn’ have to tell me naught about his lordship, milady.” Dobbs’s wink gave Christina the impression that she was all too familiar with Ned.

For some reason, this suggestion nettled her as nothing else had done. When next she spoke, her tone dripped with scorn.

“Ned?” She glanced meaningfully towards the door. “Would you care to leave or do you intend to watch?”

Instead of the guilty start she’d hoped to provoke, she was treated to a wicked smile.

“Although the prospect sounds most enticing, I fear I ought to shove off. Your servant, Lady Chris.”

He bowed in his ironic fashion, then, as he stepped past her, he called his goodbyes to Little Ned. But the baby was already engaged in his dinner. His noisy slurps could be heard over the pulse in Christina’s ears.

“I have to hurry home,” Ned told her with a wink. “I’ve got to decide which of my jackets would best be worn to Almack’s. The hostesses there are extremely particular, you know.”

Chapter Four

After this unsettling encounter, Christina would have been happy for an hour of reflection in which to plan her revenge on Ned.

But it was not to be. Not long after she had sought her room, the message was carried to her on a salver that another gentleman caller awaited her below. Remembering the man she had met in the park, Christina hastened to freshen her face and went to greet Lord Levington in the drawing room.

There she found him, sitting with Louisa, who had returned from her afternoon outing. Louisa had obviously been entertaining the baron with anecdotes about her charitable societies. As Christina passed through the door, she heard her sister-in-law inviting him to subscribe to an almshouse for wayward females.

Lord Levington had not answered when, perceiving Christina, he leapt to his feet with a look of unbridled relief. With a pinched face, which was at odds with his smooth deportment, he hastily explained that he had come to inquire whether her misadventure of the previous day had caused her any lingering distress.

Christina made him a curtsy and thanked him prettily again for having come to her assistance. She assured him she was very well.

“Distress?” Her curiosity aroused, Louisa looked up from her embroidery. “Was there a mishap in the park?”

Choosing her words with care, Christina gave an abbreviated version of her ride, leaving out the part in which she had sprung Ned’s horses. Aware of his potential use to her, she gave Lord Levington more credit for her rescue than he deserved.

Louisa’s reaction was overwhelming.

“How very romantic!” she exclaimed, looking back and forth between them with delight. “Just like the stories of knights and fair damsels in distress. I cannot wait to tell Robert all about it.”

“Are you perfectly certain that would be wise?” Christina tried to say this tactfully, but Louisa’s enthusiasm had taken her aback. “I would not want him to think that Lord Windermere was in any way responsible. Not when they are such good friends.”

And not when it had been her fault, and her fault only. And Robert was sure to blame Ned.

Louisa seemed confused by her caution. The baron was trying to maintain an expression of polite disinterest, but Christina had noted the sudden glint in his eyes when he’d heard Louisa’s speech.

There could be only one reason for Levington to care whether Louisa related her mishap to Robert or not. And that was if he had a reason for wishing to impress the Duke of Broughton.

Christina had been raised the daughter of a duke. She knew how many people made their livings off the favors a duke could bestow. She wondered what exactly Lord Levington desired and had a sinking feeling she already knew.