Gallant Rogue (Reluctant Heroes Book 3) (4 page)

“Let me take them to her ladyship for you,” Juliet said, placing a hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner. “Afterward, we’ll go for a walk in the gardens, just you and I.”

“Someone has to stay with Angelica and Bran,” Chloe pointed out. Their nanny had the afternoon off and was shopping in Basseterre with a few other servants. “I’ll stay with them. And you really must see that little red-head, Juliet. It’s amazing to see a newborn with such fiery hair. I haven’t seen the like since the twins were born.” Elizabeth’s eldest boys had flaming red locks like their mother, but Cherie and Gaston had their father’s raven hair.

“Thloey? You no see me born?” Angelica Rose came away from her doll assembly. She tugged at her hair, lifting it with chubby fingers. “Me red, too. Fire hair, Papa say.”

“No, silly.” Shawn smiled at his young cousin. He snatched a wooden puzzle from the shelf as he came to the window where the little girls had assembled around Chloe. “You were born in Ireland. Aunt Chloe has never left the Indies. This little speck in the ocean is St. Kitts. And all the way over here is Ireland and England, where you and your parents live.” His fingertip traced the path from the West Indies to the British Isles.

Angelica looked at the places Shawn pointed out to her on the wooden puzzle map. She pointed to England and then traced her finger beneath it to rest upon the country of Spain. Sharp sea green eyes looked up at Chloe. “Dis place you go. Love find you there. And gold.” Angelica touched her hair, tugging at a tuft for emphasis. “Gold. Like waves of sunshine. Will warm you heart. Hugs, I see for you, many hugs for you there, and love.”

Shawn looked from his cousin to regard Chloe with speculation. “Your father was from Spain, wasn’t he? Do you still have family there?”

“Yes,” Chloe answered, having not given the Ramirez family across the sea much thought. “My father had an older brother and two sisters.”

Angelica was not to be outdone. She picked and picked at the puzzle piece with her little chubby fingers, attempting to pry the kingdom of Spain from the wooden board.

Seeing what she was about, Shawn assisted her. He pulled the countries of Spain and Portugal, which made up one piece, from the board and handed it to her. “There you go, Angie.”

“Dis for you.” Angelica handed the piece to Chloe. “Warm hugs and gold.” Again she patted her head, an odd gesture as if the child had a headache. Chloe was beginning to understand the little girl's frequent gesture a little more. The child was seeing things in her mind. She was a direct descendant of Sheila O’Flaherty, and like her father and her Aunt Elizabeth, she was having some sort of vision. “To Spain you must go, yes?”

“Aunt Chloe can’t go to Spain. It’s too far,” Shawn corrected.

“She could,” Sebastian interjected, striding over to the gathering at the window with his arms behind his back, mirroring his father’s pensive mien. “Father sends ships to England twice a year to deliver our sugar and spices. She could go on one of father’s ships.”

“Children, hush. Our dear Aunt Chloe is not leaving us and that is final. Now off with you.” Miss Wallingford chided in her strict tone. “You are keeping your mother waiting.”  The children moved toward the door. Shawn took little Cherie’s hand and Sebastian took three-year-old Gaston’s.
Amusing
, Chloe thought, watching them pair off; each twin had a favorite younger sibling. As Juliet Wallingford herded her charges from the room, she turned to Chloe from the doorway to give her one last pitying glance and then she was gone.

Bran O’Flaherty, the dark haired cherub, continued to stack the wooden blocks in a neat row to form a wall around the tower his older cousin had helped him build. After he placed the last block, he swung his hand back and knocked the wall down with his fist. Not content with that action, he kicked at the tower with his feet, scattering the blocks about until the tower was completely leveled.

Angelica sat next to Chloe in the window seat. Her red hair was fairly glowing, becoming more vibrant and alive with the sun’s bright gilding. She picked up the puzzle Shawn left behind and started rearranging the pieces in a haphazard, disordered mess. Chloe didn’t direct her to place the pieces correctly, as most adults would do. The child was content to simply move the pieces about as she saw fit, quietly re-ordering her world.

One smooth wooden piece rested in the palm of Chloe’s hand.

Spain
? Was that the answer to her dilemma? No one in Spain would know her shameful history. They wouldn’t hiss as she went past them and turn away. In Spain, she would simply be a returning family member, a widow from abroad.

Spain!
She traced the edges of the puzzle piece resting in her palm with her forefinger.

Perhaps by going to Spain she could reorder her own world, just as little Angelica was reordering the flat map of the world on her lap.

Chapter Three

A week after Katherine Beaumont’s abrupt arrival at Ravencrest Plantation, the infant’s mother invited her sister-in-law and Chloe O’Donovan to join her for lemonade and cakes on the pillared porch outside her bedchamber.  It was obvious the woman was restless and tired of being confined to her room by her overprotective spouse, treated like an invalid when she was ready to be up and about. Elizabeth’s health had always been delicate, and so his lordship always insisted she remain in confinement for a full fortnight after each of her deliveries. 

The three women were gathered around the small tea table. Elizabeth reclined on a chaise lounge. Lady Greystowe and Chloe sat on either side of her in wicker garden chairs. The brusque wind ruffled their hair and caressed their skin. It was mid afternoon, the hottest time of the day. Baby Katie was asleep inside the chamber with a nurse watching over her.

Elizabeth and Lady Greystowe were discussing their children’s reactions to the new baby. Chloe endeavored to ignore their domestic chatter as she sipped the cool, refreshing drink made of lemons and sugar. She studied the horizon. The sea appeared to go on forever. Further west were other islands of the Indies. Beyond them loomed the Americas.

What fascinating new worlds await one there?

Chloe had been born and raised on the island. She moved from her father’s home after his death to live with her maternal grandmother in a tiny straw hut. She came to the plantation house to work as a lady’s maid ten years ago. As a new bride far from her beloved England, Elizabeth Beaumont had suffered a deep melancholy. Elizabeth and Chloe became friends through their relationship as mistress and maid. Elizabeth came to depend on Chloe’s companionship during the long, lonely days as the count was constantly distracted by his plantation affairs. And thus, Chloe was raised in position from Elizabeth's maid to her paid companion.

It was then that she fell in love with Gareth O’Donovan. As a lady’s companion, she was allowed to dine with the family and be in her ladyship’s constant attendance. Gareth was Count Rochembeau’s dependent relation. He was natural son of the count’s grandfather. As an illegitimate son, Gareth was not given an inheritance. He was allowed to live at the manor but had no income aside from a small allowance, and that had given him a reluctance to marry Chloe. Gareth had believed he could not support a wife when he had no real income to provide for her.

He was handsome, charming and persuasive. Chloe’s heart didn’t stand a chance against his seductive grin or his laughing brown eyes. His gentlemanly bearing made him a valiant knight in her mind when compared to the crude sailors and fishermen she encountered outside the manor. Was it any wonder her heart was his within the first week of their meeting?

After that, they met in secret. Whenever she could, Chloe would steal away from her duties to meet him in the gardens. Everyone believed they were having an affair, but they were never lovers before they wed. They shared a few stolen kisses, but nothing more. Gareth gave her a precious gift that expanded her world a thousand fold. He taught her to read.

On Christmas Eve, at the first annual Ravencrest Christmas Dance, Gareth asked her to jump the broom with him in a secret ceremony. He wanted her to marry him in the African tradition. His intent was to keep their common-law marriage a secret so Chloe could continue to work as a paid companion and earn a generous wage from his kinsmen. Gareth realized he could not provide for Chloe materially on his small allowance.

She took a chance on love. She trusted Gareth to keep his promise to love and honor her all his days, whether their marriage was considered legal in society or not. Her trust had not been misplaced. During that same time, Elizabeth had been refurbishing the neglected manor house and had discovered a will hidden in an unused room behind a mirror. Elizabeth gave the document to her husband, who sent it to his lawyers in London and had them put the case before the courts. The hidden will, the last one of record, allotted Gareth one-quarter share in the plantation income. It was not a huge inheritance, as the other three quarters went to the legitimate heirs; one quarter to Gareth’s elder sister and two quarters to her son, Count Rochembeau. Still, the income was enough to support a family, so Gareth and Chloe had a legal ceremony one year later.

Thanks to the Count and Countess Rochembeau, Chloe had been fortunate. She came here as a servant. The countess befriended her, and the count and raised her station. They did not protest or interfere when Gareth declared his intent to marry her. She had been happy here, accepted easily into the family as Aunt Chloe after her marriage to the count's uncle.

Why do you feel suddenly desperate to leave this place?

Lady Greystowe stood up, drawing Chloe’s attention from the sea at the abrupt movement. “I’m to go riding with Kieran.” She used her husband’s first name often in conversation, particularly when in the company of his sister, Elizabeth. “He’s promised to show me a secret waterfall. We’re going there, just the two of us, for a romantic picnic.” The woman giggled and exchanged a telling look with Elizabeth. “You know how rare these sweet interludes can be with children underfoot.”

This is why I need to get away
. Chloe’s throat tightened. She was withering beneath the glaring sun of marital bliss presented in strong daily doses. The count and countess were deliriously happy, and their family was ever increasing.

Chloe was a widow, a childless widow—an object of pity to some and scorn to others.

“Chloe, dearest, what is troubling you?” Elizabeth noticed Chloe, now that Lady Greystowe left them. She tugged the green silk shawl about her shoulders, making her long, unbound red hair move in gentle waves. Elizabeth’s striking blue-green eyes studied Chloe with concern. Elizabeth was an accomplished seer in the tradition of her Grandmother O’Flaherty.

I am surrounded by happiness and miserable under the burden of such happiness.
 

It wasn’t something one could admit to. Chloe set down the glass. She reached for another lemon biscuit and began nibbling it delicately.

“Is it Gareth or
Baby John
?”  Elizabeth said the last name with obvious strain.

Chloe continued to crunch on the delicious, sweet yet tart lemon biscuit. She didn’t want to talk about Gareth’s passing or her infant’s too short existence in her world. Elizabeth had just given birth to a healthy baby. Chloe would not spoil her friend’s joy. She wiped the crumbs from her lips with a weary sigh and brushed her fingers together.  “I’m just bored, Lizzie.”  

“You’re as bad as the twins,” Elizabeth chided. “They pout, yet when I ask them what is troubling them they become silent and pensive.” Elizabeth rose and came to sit next to Chloe in the chair her sister-in-law had vacated. She placed a consoling hand on Chloe’s forearm.

“No. Play fair,” Chloe returned, as she rolled her arm from beneath Elizabeth’s hand. Elizabeth’s gift of second sight was strongest when she touched people. Chloe stood and moved away from the perceptive woman.

“Then
tell me
, Chloe. Tell me why your heart is so heavy today.” Elizabeth blinked and gasped aloud. “Oh, dear. Katie was born on the anniversary of Gareth’s death.” She rose and came to Chloe’s side. “I’m sorry. We’ve been so full of joy since Katie’s birth—it must be horrible for you, remembering your birth and comparing it to . . ."

“It’s not as if you could stop Katie’s birth once you’d started.” Chloe’s heart dropped to her feet. She didn’t want Elizabeth to feel guilty for having Katie. She hugged the sweet woman tightly for a long moment before stepping back, out of Elizabeth’s reach. “If you want the truth, I’m angry with Gareth for buying that stupid animal and trying to break it to the saddle. I wish he'd never bought that devil horse.” Her voice thickened at the rancid confession. There it was, the truth lying ugly between them like a squished hairy spider on the cobbled stones of the garden path, spoiling the view of the flowers.

“I’d feel the same. Men and their obsession with horses! Donovan blames himself for not doing something about the situation sooner—before Gareth was harmed.”

“Gareth was the one who bought the horse. If anyone is to blame for what happened, it’s him, not
your
husband.” Being a nobleman, Donovan Beaumont, Count Rochembeau, had the natural arrogance to believe he could control fate. So when terrible things happened to those he loved he tended to assume the blame when it wasn’t his due. “It was a stupid accident caused by a high spirited, unbroken beast my husband foolishly purchased,” Chloe added, irritated by Elizabeth’s comment about
her husband
feeling guilt over what happened.

No one knew how much she despised herself for not insisting Gareth stop trying to ride the untamed beast. No one knew how many nights she’d lain awake wishing she could go back in time and prevent Gareth from buying that wretched stallion.

Chloe walked down the veranda so she stood several feet away from Elizabeth. She took quick, sharp breaths, attempting to calm herself lest her emotions betray her. She loved Elizabeth and all her children. And yet, she also resented the bounty her friend had when she had nothing but emptiness and sorrow. It wasn’t right to feel this way, but feel it she did. Chloe would not wish Elizabeth to pick up on her bitterness. It was unfair of her to feel this way, and she’d not hurt the woman before her by letting her glimpse the pain in her soul.