Less Than a Gentleman (25 page)

He swallowed hard and meandered around the room. Jamie tapped the tobacco out of his pipe and packed in another load. Edward gave in to his exhaustion and lay down beside his sister.

Matthias glanced at the sleeping children.
Children.
With Caroline. Would she agree?

He wandered across the room. The moans from Dottie’s room grew louder. The women’s voices sounded urgent.

Jamie and Josiah jumped to their feet. Matthias grabbed the bottle of rum and gulped some down. This was it. The baby was coming, and his decision had been made.

A woman’s cry erupted, followed by the wail of a baby. Jamie and Josiah laughed and slapped each other on the back.

Betsy peeked out the door. “ ’Tis a boy! A healthy boy.”

Matthias sighed with relief. Yes, joy was possible in the midst of war and chaos. He would waste no more time.

“Och, another grandson.” Jamie beamed with pride. “And a fine set of lungs he has.”

Josiah leaned over the children and nudged their shoulders. “Edward, Charlotte, we have a baby brother.”

Edward yawned. “What’s his name?”

“I don’t know yet,” Josiah replied.

“Why is he crying?” Charlotte asked.

“I expect he’s tired and a wee frightened,” Jamie answered.

The door opened and Caroline emerged with a white bundle of screaming humanity. “Here he is.”

Matthias took note of the squirming blanket, then looked at Caroline. Her hair curled about her brow, damp with perspiration. Dark smudges under her eyes indicated she was near exhaustion. And damn if he didn’t think she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“His name is James Quincy,” she announced with a smile.

“Och, now there’s a fine name, though I doona know about that Quincy part.” Jamie tugged back the blanket to have a look.

Josiah laughed. “He has red hair.”

“Aye, he’s a handsome lad,” Jamie observed.

“Ha!” Caroline passed the baby to her father. “You would say that. He looks like you.”

“Aye, verra handsome.” Jamie sat so the children could see their new brother.

Matthias wandered closer.

“Ooh, he’s naked,” Charlotte said.

“Of course he is, bufflehead,” Edward muttered. “Did you think he’d come out with clothes on?”

Charlotte lifted her chin. “I like him better than you.
He
is nice to me.”

Edward slanted a suspicious look at his baby brother. The baby’s cries dwindled into whimpers.

“Ye should watch yer tongue, young Edward,” Jamie warned. “This lad may be bigger than you someday.”

Edward gulped.

Jamie passed the baby back to Caroline. “How is Ginny?”

“She’s fine. Tired, but happy.” Caroline smiled at Matthias. “Would you like to see the baby?”

Matthias stepped back. “I can see him from here.” He eyed the wiggling, whimpering bundle. So much energy. Somehow he had thought babies slept all the time.

Quincy strode into the room. “Is everyone done admiring my new son?” Charlotte ran up to him and latched on to his leg, and he picked her up to hug her. “I have the most beautiful children in the world.”

“We’ll have to leave soon,” Josiah warned him.

“Let me see Ginny first.” Jamie strode into Dottie’s room.

Charlotte clung to her father’s neck. “I still have your book, Papa.”

“That’s my girl.” He kissed her brow. When Edward sidled close, he patted his son on the back.

“Do you have to leave?” Edward asked.

“I’ll stay close by for a few weeks,” Quincy replied. “But eventually, I have to get back to my ship.” He set Charlotte on her feet. “Stay here for a moment, while I see your mama again.”

When Charlotte’s bottom lip trembled, Josiah said, “You can help me with the baby. Can I hold him, Caroline?”

“Of course.” Caroline passed him the baby, and Josiah sat on a bench by the table.

“Let’s make sure he has all his fingers and toes,” Josiah said, and the children sat on either side of him to inspect their new brother. Caroline gazed at them with a tired smile, then sank into the chair by the fire.

Matthias swallowed hard. This was it. But what should he say? Did he dare confess who he really was?

Anyone associated with the wanted traitor Matthias Murray Thomas would be a target for torture and murder. No, he couldn’t tell Caroline his name. Not yet. He could only pray she understood and loved him no matter what name he assumed. After all, hadn’t Juliet loved Romeo in spite of his name?

He winced. The best analogy he could think of was a tragedy? He cleared his throat. “Caroline?”

“Yes?” She looked at him with her emerald-green eyes.

He wiped his damp palms on his breeches. “Could . . . would you step outside with me for a moment?” He could propose to her in the orchard. Or maybe the pergola.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes. “My feet are tired.”

“I understand, but I have something important to discuss with you.”

She waved a hand in his direction. “Let the war rest. This is a night for celebrating life.” Her eyes opened and she glanced at the baby. “This was my third time to help with a birthing, and it never ceases to amaze me.”

“Caroline.” He moved in front of her. “I need to talk to you. Now. Enough time has been wasted.”

She frowned. “Then speak.”

“Not here. Come walk with me.”

“I cannot. Ginny might need me. Or the baby.”

“Dottie and Betsy can take care of them.”

She gestured to the children. “And I need to return the children to the nursery.”

“Betsy can take them.” Matthias gritted his teeth. Damn, it shouldn’t be this hard. “Caroline, come with me to the orchard to see the bloody trees.”

“I don’t think I like your tone.”

“The devil take my tone! If you won’t cooperate, I’ll have to do it here.” He bent down on one knee and took her hands in his.

Her eyes widened. “Thomas? How much rum did you drink?”

“Bloody hell, woman, I’m not drunk. I’m asking you to marry me.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
N
INE

C
aroline gasped. Had she heard him correctly?

“Aunt Caroline!”

She jumped when Charlotte suddenly grabbed her arm.

“Aunt Caroline, say yes!”

Josiah chuckled. “Charlotte, leave her be. She has to decide for herself.”

Charlotte returned to the bench and took a seat beside Josiah and Edward. All three of them watched with expectant faces. No wonder Thomas had wanted her to leave. Their audience was enjoying the show. Even the baby grew quiet.

Thomas squeezed her hand. “I cannot promise you much,” he whispered. “I cannot even say how much longer I’ll be alive. But I can promise that as long as I draw breath, I will love you. As long as my heart beats, it is yours.”

Her eyes filled with tears. There was no guarantee of a long life, so shouldn’t they cherish every moment they could find together?

Charlotte leapt to her feet. “
I’ll
marry you!”

Josiah hushed her, and the young girl slumped back on the bench.

A tear escaped down Caroline’s cheek. “Thomas, I love you, too.”

His eyes glimmered with hope as he straightened and pulled her to her feet. “Then you will say yes?”

Caroline nodded and gave him a shaky smile. “Yes.”

He let out a gush of air and grinned. “
Yes
.”

“Hurrah!” Charlotte jumped to her feet and ran toward Dottie’s room. “Mama, Mama, Aunt Caroline’s going to marry!”

Edward grimaced. “Are they going to kiss now?”

Josiah laughed. “I believe so. Let’s give them some privacy.” He rose and sauntered toward Dottie’s room with the baby in his arms and Edward at his heels.

“I thought they’d never leave,” Thomas muttered with a glare in their direction, but as soon as he focused on Caroline, his smile returned.

She wiped away tears with trembling fingers. Good Lord, he had a way of looking at her like he was worshipping every freckle that marred her face. She wanted to melt in his arms, ooze into his pores, and crawl under his skin. She wanted to be a part of him forever.

He kissed her brow, then her damp cheeks. “My uncle is a minister. We’ll go to him tomorrow.”

She blinked. “Tomorrow?” She was struck with the enormity of what she’d agreed to. This man would be her husband. She hardly knew him. In fact, she’d met him only a month ago. And she seriously doubted he was ever a butler. “I . . . Ginny and the children might need me tomorrow.”

“I’m not waiting.” He nabbed her by the elbow and led her to the kitchen door.

“Where are we going?”

“Does it matter?” He rolled the barrels away.

“What about my father and Josiah?”

“They know the way back. They don’t need me.” Thomas cracked the door and peered outside. “Let’s go.”

Cool, crisp air pinched her cheeks, a welcome change from the stuffiness of Dottie’s bedchamber. She ran alongside Thomas to the shelter of the pergola. There, encased in leafy darkness, the scent of earth and night-blooming flowers surrounded them.

She breathed deeply. “I believe autumn has arrived.”

He placed a finger on her lips and whispered, “The guard.”

Bertram trudged by, barely visible in the moonlight, though by the slump of his shoulders she knew the boy was half asleep on his feet. It had been a long day and night for them all.

Thomas’s arms enveloped her, holding her close. His clothes smelled of wood smoke. She nestled her cheek against his broad chest, feeling entirely safe even with Bertram nearby. Thomas’s hand ventured past her waist and slowly caressed her bottom. Her mouth fell open. The rascal. He knew she couldn’t voice an objection with a redcoat close by.

Whether it was exhaustion or elation, she didn’t know, but she didn’t feel like objecting. On the contrary, she felt wildly free. Ginny had given birth to a healthy baby; Ginny’s husband was alive and well; Thomas had declared his love for her; and very soon, she would be marrying him. So many glorious reasons to celebrate!

Reaching around him, she gave his buttocks a squeeze and nearly giggled out loud when he jumped.

“You want to play, vixen?” he whispered in her ear, then grabbed her hand and led her through the pergola.

“Where are we going?”

“Jacob’s house.”

Caroline’s heart leapt up her throat. Jacob wouldn’t be there tonight. Was Thomas planning a wedding night before the wedding?

Her heart raced. Did he not realize how exhausted she was? And dirty? Her clothes were stained with blood, and she felt like a horrid mess.

Thomas escorted her to the back entrance of the pergola and into the orchard.

“Wait.” She dug in her heels. “I’m filthy. I should return to the kitchen and bathe.”

“You can bathe at Jacob’s.”

“But I have no clean clothes there.” She caught a glimpse of white teeth as he grinned. The rascal. Her lack of clothes only strengthened his resolve.

“Come on.” He guided her through the orchard to the woods. “We’ll get a few hours’ sleep, then leave early in the morning. By midday, we’ll be married.”

She gulped. “So quickly?”

He halted. “Are you changing your mind?”

“No, I definitely want to marry you, but I’ve hardly had time to adjust—”

“I’m in a hurry.” He resumed walking, tugging her along with him.

“I gathered that, but this is an excellent example of a problem I foresee in our future.”

“We will have no problems.”

“Of course we will.”

“If we have one, I’ll fix it, and then, there won’t be a problem.”

She scoffed. “
You
will fix the problem? Shouldn’t
we
fix the problem?”

He gave her an exasperated look as they emerged onto the path by the river. “Why are you fussing about a problem that doesn’t even exist?”

“You’re missing the point. I see marriage as a partnership.”

He stopped. “I’ll be responsible for you, Caroline.”

“I’ll feel just as responsible for you.”

“But I can take care of myself.”

“So can I.”

His grip on her arm relaxed. Slowly he trailed his fingers down to her hand. “I believe you can. You are an amazing woman.”

“Thank you.” She entwined her fingers with his.

“I would like to wed tomorrow. I see no reason to wait.” He watched her with a hopeful expression.

Tomorrow.
She took a deep breath. The smell of exploded gunpowder and burnt wood still hovered along the river, a potent reminder of the risk Thomas had taken that day. It would be foolish to waste what little time they might have.

She nodded. “Yes. Tomorrow.”

They resumed their walk to Jacob’s house at a more leisurely pace. Moonlight sparkled off the Black River.

Downriver, Caroline noticed a black patch in the water. It was the blackened husk of the barge, still floating on the river. “They found the bodies, you know.”

Thomas glanced at her. “How many?”

“Five. Hickman believes two were killed in the explosion and one drowned. The other two were shot with arrows.” She waited, but Thomas said nothing. “I can see why you didn’t want me involved.”

He sighed. “We made the incident as dramatic as possible to keep Hickman and his men removed from the house. Otherwise, the rescue could not have succeeded.”

“I see.” She walked alongside him for a moment in silence. Exhaustion bore down on her, and she yawned.

“What else did Hickman do?” Thomas asked.

“He sent Pugsley to report the incident to General Cornwallis. He was extremely agitated, screaming at everyone, even Agatha.”

Thomas nodded. “He’s afraid he’ll be held responsible.”

“If they ever find out
you
were responsible, there will be a price on your head.”

Thomas was silent.

They neared the mill. It crouched on the river’s edge like a huge black crow with a metal beak jutting out over the water. The wheel groaned and slapped the water as it slowly turned.

She yawned again as she climbed the steps to Jacob’s front porch.

Thomas opened the door. “I should tell you. There already is a price on my head.” He entered the house and went straight to the hearth to light a fire.

Caroline remained by the door, stunned.

“I’ll heat some water so you can bathe.” He grabbed a pot and a kettle and filled them at the pump.

A wanted man
. She slid the bolt on the door and wandered to the fireplace. She was marrying a wanted man tomorrow.

He hung the pot and kettle over the fire. “Would you like some cider?”

“Thomas, we should leave this area. We could go to my home in North Carolina.”

He uncorked a jug and poured two glasses. “I will not abandon the cause of freedom.”

“I’m not asking you to. But couldn’t we have a brief respite?”

“Perhaps.” He smiled as he brought her a glass. “I would love to spend some time alone with you.”

With a blush she accepted the glass. She sat on the wooden settee and sipped her cider while Thomas hauled water from the pump to the tub in Jacob’s room. Finally, he took the pot and kettle and added boiling water.

“ ’Tis ready,” he called.

She entered Jacob’s room. It was sparsely furnished, but charming. An oil lamp flickered on the small bedside table. A quilt of blue and white adorned the four-poster bed, while a hooked rug of the same colors lay on the floor.

Thomas motioned to the neatly folded stack on the bed. “There’s a linen towel there, and some clean clothing.” He headed for the door. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

“Thomas, I—I need help with my laces.”

“Oh, of course.”

She swiveled and held her breath while he untied the laces to her gown. “And the corset, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” His voice sounded hoarse.

She held the gown to her bosom to keep it from slipping down, while his fingers worked their way up her spine, tingling her skin. He finished, but remained standing behind her. She could hear his breathing, harsh and fast.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He hesitated, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

She took a deep breath and peeled off her clothes. On top of Jacob’s clothespress, she found a bar of soap. Magnolia-scented, the soap that Dottie made. She climbed into the tub, quickly scrubbed herself clean, then leaned back and closed her eyes. What a long day it had been.

Just a few minutes of rest, she thought, sinking deeper into the warm water.

A knock sounded on the door. “Caroline, are you all right?”

With a gasp, she sat up. Goodness, the water had turned cold. She must have dozed off. “Just a minute.”

She scurried to the bed, toweled dry, then examined the clean clothes Thomas had left. A man’s shirt and stockings? The shirt ended a few inches below her hips. Without garters, the large stockings flopped around her ankles. How could she walk into the parlor with her legs exposed?

She searched the room ’til she found a clean sheet, then wrapped it around her waist and tied the ends. Taking a deep breath, she ventured into the parlor.

The fire in the hearth drew her attention first. It illuminated a makeshift pallet Thomas had made on the floor, several quilts and two pillows. Side by side.

She spotted him at the table. A lit candlestick flickered between two pewter mugs and plates.

“Come and eat.” He stood and held out a chair for her.

She smiled at the simple fare he had prepared for her—cheese, bread, and a few figs. “Thank you.”

He poured some cider into her mug. “I know you’re tired, so I made a place for you to sleep.”

“Thank you.” She glanced at the pallet with its two pillows. “I suppose you’re tired, too.”

“Aye, it’s been a long day. And I still smell of smoke and gunpowder.” He took the kettle from the hearth and walked toward Jacob’s room. “I’ll heat up the water and take a bath.” He smiled at her as he closed the door.

She nibbled on some cheese as she looked around. Thomas’s plate was empty. He must have eaten while she was dozing in the bathtub. Her gaze drifted once again to the pallet. Did he intend to sleep with her?

She yawned. She was far too exhausted to get indignant or even worried. Thomas had to be exhausted, too. The man had blown up a barge, battled redcoats, rescued Jane, witnessed a birthing, and proposed marriage in one day.

Her husband. With a weary smile, she padded over to the pallet. She untied the sheet around her waist and covered herself up from her feet to her chin. Within minutes, she felt herself drifting off.

It was too hot. She slowly opened her eyes to gaze sleepily at the fireplace. The fire had burned down to a pile of glowing embers. She blinked, coming more fully awake. There was a body pressed against her back. Thomas’s bare arm was wrapped around her, and he’d flung a leg across hers. It was like being embraced by a furnace.

She nudged gently at his leg, and with a moan, he rolled onto his back. She listened to his soft breathing for a while, then quietly turned to face him. His hair was loose, the dark strands spread across his pillow. She glanced at his eyes to make sure they were shut, then admired his profile in the dim firelight. Straight nose, strong jaw and chin, interesting dark whiskers.

Would they be prickly or soft? She skimmed a finger over them. Prickly. She glanced back at his eyes. Still shut.

Propping herself up on an elbow, she let her gaze drift over his bare chest. There were interesting mounds and dips, outlining the muscles along his abdomen and the contour of his hipbones, so different from her own. He wore no stockings, so his calves were bare and sprinkled with dark, curly hair. His breeches were partially unbuttoned, and a line of hair emerged from them and led up to his belly button. His chest was broad and muscular. Between two copper-colored flat nipples, dark brown hair curled. Prickly or soft?

She tested it with her fingertips. Soft. She skimmed her fingers across the thick mat ’til she reached the thin line that led to his navel. It was so smooth and silky, she soon ended up with a finger in his belly button.

“Don’t stop there.”

With a gasp, she jerked her hand away. His eyes were open and he was watching her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go—go back to sleep.” She lay down, dragging the sheet to her chin and squeezing her eyes shut.