For the Love of a Soldier (29 page)

She did remember, but it never occurred to her that Gus would be working at the same manor as them. Would be reunited with her. Damn Garrett. It was hard to hold on to her anger when he continued to do things like this.

“He traveled with us,” Brandon said. “You’ll have to go and
say hello. And perhaps locate our eldest son. He’s about so high”—he held his hand to waist level—“and usually knee-deep in trouble.”

“I’m right here,” an amused voice piped up from the door.

A young boy of about six or seven years stood just inside the room. His hands were folded around his waist, his ink black hair windblown and in dark contrast to his bright pink cheeks.

“So you are. Where have you been?” Brandon’s eyes narrowed.

“Leave off, Bran, he looks fine.” Garrett bent to give the boy a hug but was stopped by a firm hand thrust out to him. Grinning, Garrett clutched it in his and shook it firmly, bending into a shallow bow. “Aren’t you mature.”

“I’m almost seven. You can hug Will, but don’t shake his hand. You’d get slobber from his thumb all over you.”

Brandon’s raised a brow. “Yes, Beau, but…”

“Papa, it’s not Beau, it’s Nelson. I’ve told you again and again.” Impatience flashed in his eyes. “I’ve changed my name to Nelson,” he explained to Garrett. “Poole told me I got saddled with Beauregard because it was the first Earl of Warren and every other Warren is stuck with the name. But I don’t like it, so I’ve tossed it over for Nelson. It’s a dapper name, and Admiral Nelson trounced the French.”

“Apt choice, Nelson,” Garrett said, clearly fighting to keep his expression somber.

Alex lifted her hand to suppress her smile. The boy was charming. She feared he did take after his uncle.

“Beau…I mean, Nelson,” Brandon corrected himself after a disgruntled look from his son. “About your jacket—”

“My jacket?” Beau opened his eyes wide, giving them a look of guileless innocence.

“Yes. It is moving.”

Beau waved a hand dismissively. “That’s my stomach. Hunger pains and all that. Perhaps I should change for dinner? I’m ravenous.” He started to back out of the room.

“One moment, Nelson. Your stomach appears to be sprouting a tail.” Kit’s amused gaze dropped to his waist where the furry appendage protruded.

Beau flushed and shoved the tail underneath his jacket hem just as a paw slipped up between the lapels of his coat.

“Beau, rather, Nelson, I told you to leave the kittens in the stables with their mother. They are too young to be weaned yet,” Brandon said, setting Will on his feet when he squirmed for release.

“He didn’t want to stay with his mother. He followed me. He was crying when I put him down.”

“Will cries to follow you sometimes, but then he wants his mother,” Brandon explained. “Like Will, this kitten is not ready to be separated yet.”

“Why don’t I help Nelson return the kitten to his mother,” Alex offered. “I know you two would like to catch up with Garrett, and I would like a chance to greet Gus.”

Garrett knelt beside Beau to help Will pet the kitten. “Nelson, this is Miss Daniels, and she is a friend of mine and Gus’s. Why don’t you show her where the kitten’s mother is? She likes kittens, too,” Garrett explained, making the introductions.

Watching Garrett with the boys, Alex felt the rest of her chill toward him melt. Of all the facets to Garrett’s personality, this could prove his most dangerous, for she had a weakness for children.

“I come.” Will toddled over to Alex and raised his hands to be lifted.

Charmed, Alex laughed and bent to scoop up the little boy. “Of course. We wouldn’t leave you with the boring adults when there are kittens to be seen.”

“I am this many,” Will thrust two fingers into her face.

“Gus brought a pony,” Beau said. “He’s going to let me ride him.”

“Lucky you. Gus taught me to ride when I was a girl.” She followed Beau to the door, turning back to smile at Kit and Brandon. “I promise to return quickly, as dinner is already abysmally late, and I’m sure you’re all…ah, ready to eat.” Her eyes snapped to Garrett’s and a flush stole up her cheeks at the knowing gleam in his eyes. She spun around and hastened from the room.

She had meant to say they were all
hungry
, but the word had stuck in her throat. Damn Garrett for making her trip over a simple word that now harbored a whole new wealth of meaning. It was bad enough that she couldn’t think around Garrett; now she couldn’t talk.

The man was turning her into a mute idiot. There would have to be a new set of rules, which of course, Garrett would break. She huffed out a breath, but seeing Beau skipping ahead of her, she paused. What she needed were reinforcements, someone else to enforce the rules. She had the perfect pair to do so. And the plan required little thinking and no words. Perfect for a mute idiot.

S
HE’LL
do,” Kit said when Alexandra and the boys had disappeared.

Garrett had been admiring the tantalizing sway of Alexandra’s skirts and the way Will’s arm slipped so naturally around her neck. Lucky boy. At his sister’s words, he turned and narrowed his eyes. “Dare I ask what you mean by that?”

Kit lowered herself down on the sofa, neatened her skirts, and rested her hands on her extended stomach. “What do you think, Garrett? You’re an intelligent man when sober, which thankfully you are.” Kit was unmoved by his warning look. “You’ve been sequestered here, all alone with a young woman, without chaperones, and what do you expect me to say? You are lucky she appears to be a lovely, intelligent, and
forgiving
young woman. You could do much worse.”

“Much worse for
what
?” he asked exasperated.

“For a wife,” Kit said, raising her voice to match his.

Stunned, he gaped at her.
A wife?
He was not getting married, not now, not ever. “What are you talking about? She is here to assist me with finding out who the hell is trying to
murder me. She is the only link to this plot. I thought Brandon explained the situation to you.” He wasn’t about to admit to his sister that he had other motives for keeping Alex, not when they could force him to the very altar to which Kit appeared intent on directing him.

“I see,” Kit said. “Do you kiss all your assistants? How does that go with Stewart?”

Brandon coughed and strode over to the decanter when Garrett shot him a dirty look.

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh, then what is it like? Why were you kissing her?”

“Because…because I like kissing her!” Hell and damnation that was the wrong answer.

Brandon rolled his eyes and poured himself a drink. He lifted it in a toast to Garrett. “To a man with a death wish.”

“Will you shut up?” he barked.

“What did you expect would come of this?” Kit asked. “Your reputation is black as sin. Hers will be darkened by mere proximity. The poor girl won’t weather the siege of wagging tongues. That’s if the tongues have not started flapping already. What have you said to the neighbors?”

“Nothing. I’ve said nothing,” he muttered, Kit’s words falling like hail stones, bruising him with the hard, cold truth.

“You’ve seen no one?”

Garrett opened his mouth and then closed it.
Keyes.
Damn the man.

“That would be a…?”

“We might have run into Keyes,” he admitted with reluctance.

“Might have?” Kit raised a delicate brow.

“All right. We did.” He sighed. “We ran into him while he was out hunting. At the time, I thought I was his target.”

A stunned silence met his words. Brandon lowered his drink and narrowed his eyes. “Do you think he might be behind the attacks on you? He’d have cause, being angry over your purchasing his land.”

“He’s still hot under the collar about that. But he’s not our man.” He waved his hand dismissively. “He’s a coward and an idiot. It would take bravery, brains, and the wherewithal to get
off his backside long enough to engineer the plan. Keyes is not our man.”

“At least there’s one name to cross off your list of enemies.” Kit said dryly. “If you had kept your trousers buttoned, that list would be considerably shorter. I warned you—”

“Bran, can’t you do something with your wife? As usual, she’s venturing into areas that are none of her damn business.”

Brandon laughed. “When she speaks the truth, my hands are tied.”

“Keyes may not have brains, but he does possess a tongue,” Kit went on. “I’m sure he has wasted no time wagging it to further blacken your name and Alexandra’s along with it.”

“Oh, Christ.” Garrett dropped onto the sofa beside Kit. “Will you stop quaffing that brandy,” he snapped at Brandon. “I’m the one trying to salvage my neck here.” He planted his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands.

He knew Alexandra was an innocent. Knew he should have kept his hands off her. But he had convinced himself otherwise. That she was different. A woman who made her own choices and damned the consequences.
Some risks are worth taking
. But she was the daughter of a viscount and that stamped her marriage material—never mistress potential, pretend or otherwise.
I won’t be your mistress
. The finality of her words reverberated and Garrett cursed.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He jerked at the feel of a hand rubbing his back. He lifted his head and turned a baleful look on Kit. He was surprised to find her eyes warm with sympathy.

“I think you already have,” she murmured.

“What? I have what?” He raised his hands in supplication.

“Saved your neck,” she said and smiled. After a moment, she continued. “And as you say, Lady Alexandra will help you once we return to London. I have brought gowns for her to choose from, and I have arranged for a seamstress to come here to make the necessary alterations. I know it is safe here, but you can’t hole up here forever. We need to catch this man before it is too late.”

“What’s to guarantee the bastard will accept Hammond’s invitation?” Garrett said, echoing Alex’s concern with their
plan. “He’s probably hiding in his lair, waiting to receive news of my untimely demise.”

“He has a point there.” Brandon nodded. “That’s what I would be doing.”

Kit glared at Brandon. “We’ll have to bait him, make the invitation too tantalizing for him to refuse. We’ll also hire men to provide protection for Garrett while he’s in town. And the bastard wouldn’t dare commit murder at a ball before three hundred witnesses.”

“I thought I was the bait?” Garrett said.

“No, you’re the target,” Brandon replied.

“Can I hit him if he speaks again?” Garrett turned to Kit.

“Please do.” She narrowed her eyes on her husband. “The invitation should be to a coveted event. An engagement ball should do it. One announcing your betrothal to Lady Alexandra.”

“What? We’re back to that?” Garrett stood up. “I should have—”

“It’s the only way you can squire Lady Alexandra anywhere without tongues wagging and brows raised.” Kit cut him off. “Don’t think Keyes hasn’t already started them flapping. You’re a bachelor, not to mention a rake with a reputation black as sin and—”

“Stop!” Garrett held up his hand. “You’re treading on ground you’ve already stomped on earlier.”

“This is a good plan. And she’s perfect for you. Aside from this nasty plot on your life, you look the best I’ve seen you in two years. You’re sober, more handsome than ever, and barking at me and snarling at Brandon. You’re kissing a woman and, to use your words, liking it.” She grinned. “She’s doing something right if she’s dragged you back from the brink of self-destruction. From your indulgent ritual of suicidal inebriation, from—”

“Point taken. Stop hammering it home; the pounding is killing my head.”

“It took a great deal of courage for her to confront you about the plot on your life. She also agreed to help in finding these men, even after she believed she had given you all the information she had. And, she didn’t strangle you when she clearly had a right to after you led her to believe I was your mistress, of all the deceitful—”

“All right!” Garrett rubbed his temple. “I understand. I’m a bloody scoundrel, responsible for ruining the reputation of an innocent paragon of virtue.”

“The former sounds right, but considering she was kissing you back, I’ll allow the latter point to be moot.”

Surprised, Garrett stared at Kit and seeing her eyes light with a teasing sparkle, he grinned. He had forgotten that part. Alex
was
kissing him back, even after she laid out her list of infernal rules. He hated rules. Not touching her? It was like holding the tide from the shore.

Kit was right, but what she didn’t know, couldn’t know, was Alex’s incredible passion and her response to him. She came alive in his arms. And when he held her close, he felt complete. He didn’t deserve her, but he wanted her…and she wanted him. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if they got married. Then she would be legally his.

To touch, to kiss, to have.

Forever.

He chewed on the idea and found it didn’t choke him. He was still breathing, and he felt…good.

He eyed his friend. Brandon had years of this marriage business under him and he looked none the worse for wear. Come to think of it, the man walked around with a smug look on his face, like he knew the secret to a life worth living. Hell, Garrett deserved to know that secret.