Tempting Fate Kerrigan Byrne (ebook reader .TXT) 📖

“That seems best.”

“Thank you.” She threw her arms around his middle, careful not to press against his wound.

He did not return her embrace, but she understood her uncharacteristic surge of affection was neither appropriate nor expected. Pulling away, she bent to retrieve her watering can. “After I finish this, will you stand with me while I break the news to the staff?”

“Whatever you need.” He glanced around at the flowers and ferns, whose leaves and blossoms reached from their pots as if in hopes of touching him like adoring devotees. “May I help with your plants?”

“No one has ever offered to assist me before.” She handed him the watering pot and retrieved a much smaller misting tool.

He lifted a shoulder and pivoted, almost upsetting a ficus. “If you are in need of assistance, you can always call upon me. Even if it’s something you worry I might find menial.”

Touched, she turned away so he wouldn’t see the glow in her heart shining out through her eyes.

She’d lied to him, of course. There was no forgetting what they’d done at the ball.

Just like the sight of a giant like him tending to her beloved flora…

That kiss would stay with her forever.

Chapter 10

It surprised Felicity just how quickly her house emptied beneath Gareth’s watchful eye. By the time the sun went down, only Pickering and Bartholomew were left, and Gareth had gone below stairs to the kitchens to supervise a delivery of food and preparation for their evening meal.

The four of them ate together in a small nook off the kitchens with a lovely view of the courtyard and garden.

Felicity quite enjoyed the pelt of rain on the windows and a simple dish of roasted squab and charred asparagus. She’d always been quite fond of Mrs. Pickering, and the woman made her feel better as they spoke of Emmaline and darker things.

The housekeeper even toiled to pull Gareth into the conversation, asking about his childhood and such.

Though he was polite, he didn’t seem inclined to divulge.

Felicity had the sense his was not a childhood worth remembering.

The chime at the door interrupted their evening card game, which Felicity had a sneaking suspicion Gareth was letting them win.

He stalked Mr. Bartholomew to the door like a menacing shadow, his body tensed and ready for just about anything the night could bring to their landing.

Anything, but two screaming twins and a harried nursery maid.

“Effie? What’s happened?” Felicity rushed down the corridor toward their entry, where the maid wouldn’t even relinquish her coat.

“Me mam’s gone missing,” she sniffed, rainwater dripping from her cap. “She gets lost sometimes, see. Sir and Lady Morley left these little bitties in my care while they gone off to some to do wots thrown by the police and politicians and it is most of the household’s ‘alf day. I can’t take ‘em to the doc and Lady Nora on account of her bedrest and he’s cutting out some other woman’s little ‘un. I thought maybe since you had a household full of staff—”

“Of course, you were right to bring them here.” Felicity plucked little Charlotte from the double-slotted pram and thrust her into Gareth’s arms before she turned back to gather up little Caroline. “Go see to your mother, Effie; we’ll be fine until their parents return.”

Effie, a bosomy, wiry-haired woman who might have been thirty-five or fifty, eyed Gareth with a suspicious sniff. “You sure everything is all right here?” she asked.

Felicity had been torn about what she should divulge to her sister and Morley since they’d returned only two days prior from the Continent. She was supposed to see them for a family dinner on Saturday, and decided to introduce the family to Gareth— and her predicament—all at once.

It wouldn’t do to have Effie take information of a frightening-looking gentleman back to the Morleys.

Thankfully, Mrs. Pickering rushed forward and handed Effie some warm bread and provisions to take into the cold.

Gareth, still gripping the wriggling, squalling child beneath both armpits, offered her to the housekeeper, who simply chucked the infant under her chins. “Their teeth are still coming in, poor mites. We’ve two boiled bottles and a wee bit of goat’s milk for them to suckle.”

The thunderstruck look of desperation on Gareth’s face as the woman disappeared down the hall would be locked in Felicity’s vault of amusing memories henceforth and forever.

“Look here.” She tucked the baby against her chest, pulling the blanket into a makeshift swaddle and patting her little bum as she cradled and bounced her. “Just like this, watch her head, and don’t jostle her over much. She’ll calm down in a bit.”

With slow, painful movements, he mimicked her hold, but it didn’t seem to have the effect it should, as little Charlotte only became more upset.

He made a face. “I don’t think I—”

“No, you’re doing fine, just put your arm beneath her. Yes, like that. Let’s go through to the parlor.”

She turned away from him, needing a moment to compose herself after the sight of him with a drooling, chubby infant caused an explosion of butterfly wings in the vicinity of her womb.

She went to the settee and sat, rocking the quieting child in her arms as she cooed to it. “There you are, little one.” She caressed the girl’s tiny brow, ran her fingertip along the bridge of her nose. “You’re out of the cold now. You’re with Aunt Felicity, what fun we shall have.”

Instead of taking up his regular seat across the way, Gareth sank down beside her. Watching her carefully and imitating her every move.

“What’s it doing now?” The note of uncharacteristic distress in his voice had her fighting a smile.

“Just untangle the blanket so she can move,” Felicity gently corrected. “And it is a her, and her name is Charlotte.”

He laid the baby longways on his lap, supporting her head between his knees as he unwrapped her busy limbs. As small fists windmilled and little feet kicked