“I like babies.”
He left without another word.
The halls were deserted that early in the morning.He’d only been able to sleep a few hours, and he was tired and edgy and determined.The only way to work off his energy was to go for a fast ride, though this time, he was going to check the straps himself.There’d been too many accidents of late, and the last thing he could afford was another?—
The blow came from out of nowhere.He tried to turn, to catch his attacker, but another followed, and he was falling, falling into blackness, until he was gone.
“You must have slept welllast night,” Horry said as she pulled on the diaphanous dress made for a fairy princess.It was sadly crushed, but there was time enough to see it pressed before the night’s performance.
Jenny jerked, startled.“What makes you say that?”she demanded suspiciously.She’d slept a total of two hours, and she was a mass of conflicted feelings.Had Hortensia someone how discovered what had happened last night?
“You’re positively glowing,” came the reply, and Jenny’s cheeks burned.
“Yes, you are,” said Penelope, eyeing her critically.“What happened?”
“What makes you think anything happened?”she said stiffly.
“I think Brat kissed her,” Horry said.“She has that just-kissed look.”
Jenny choked.She had that just-something look, all right, but it was a great deal more carnal than that.“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then why are you blushing?”Penelope persisted.
“If you want to have gowns for tonight, you’ll cease this topic of conversation,” she said.
“My, aren’t you sensitive today!I think we’re closer to the truth than I realized,” Penelope said.
“And you might have a problem without an accompanist,” Jenny continued, fluffing Horry’s skirts around her.
“For someone with such a glowing countenance, you’re awfully bad-tempered,” Horry observed.
“I’ve warned you…”
“Don’t worry about it, twin,” Penelope said.“Brat promised to play Little John in the children’s skit.We can tell what’s going on when she sees him.If they’re all mushy, then we’ll know we were right.”
It would have been lovely to share love-struck looks with Brat, Jenny thought, except she was the only one who was unfortunately in love.But when it became time for the younger ones to practice their skit there was no sign of Brat.
Jenny was filled with anger and relief.She’d been terrified to see him again, uncertain how to behave, but the fact that he would abandon those who were counting on him simply because he didn’t want to face her was infuriating.Fortunately, their Uncle Brandon stepped in, and everyone carried on as usual, but as the day lengthened and there was no sign of Brat, her stomach grew tighter.He'd run away, rather than face her again, she knew it.It was just as well—she didn’t want to face him either.Tomorrow was Christmas Eve—if she couldn’t persuade the Rohans to convey her to the nearest inn beforehand, it should be a fairly simple matter afterward.And she wouldn’t ever have to face Brat again.
She touched her stomach surreptitiously.The baby was safe there, for the next nine months, and she’d have plenty of time to figure out what she was going to do.Aunt Dorothy would help her—she’d always been a believer in the rights of women to live their own lives, and she’d been begging her to stay with her.It would all work out.And if part of her would always long for a certain bad boy, she’d survive.
“You’re a hard man to kill.”
Brat surfaced from the darkness, his head pounding, and looked around him.He was in some sort of outbuilding, and it was icy cold.He shifted, trying to pull himself into a sitting position on the hard ground, and looked at the man who held a gun on him.
He was dressed as one of the stablemen, but Brat didn’t make the mistake of thinking he was one of his father’s servants.This wasn’t a countryman—he had the dark, feral face of a city dweller, and a killer.
“Seems to me you haven’t tried very hard,” he answered, his voice a little slow and rough.“If I were trying to kill you, you’d be dead by now.”
The man’s smile exposed dark, broken teeth.“It’s harder than you’d think, killing a person.You moved at the last minute when I shot at you, and the girth broke when you were riding on level ground, not when you jumped.”
“So why are we having this conversation?”He stretched his long legs out in front of him, seemingly at ease, but inside, everything was tense.Despite the man’s incompetence, he wasn’t someone to underestimate, and he was the one holding the gun.“Why don’t you just shoot me and get it over with instead of talking about it?”
“In an awful hurry, are you?”the man sneered.“Happens a gun is loud, and you’re too bloody big to drag far from the main house.I shoot you now and everyone would be swarming the place before I had a chance to escape.”
Brat shook his head, disappointed in his poor-spirited assassin.“Then why don’t you cut my throat?Much quieter.”
“I’m not getting within reach of you,” the man said, affronted.“What kind of fool do you think I am?”
