The Trouble With Harry n-3 Page 14

  “Of course you could, Harry tells you everything. You mean you won’t tell me.”

  Temple inclined his head to allow that was so.

  “I dislike secrets, Temple,” Plum said, pushing back the knowledge that she had no right to adopt such a selfrighteous tone, justifying her annoyance with the memory of just what sorts of secrets men kept. They could be very harmful, indeed. “Harry said his work has something to do with an event in his past. What event?”

  “You’d have to ask his lordship that, ma’am.”

  Plum allowed herself to have one of her three daily sighs, and turned toward the door to Harry’s inner sanctum. “I’m disappointed in you, Temple, I truly am.”

  “I am indeed grieved to hear that.”

  “I had expected better of you.”

  Temple bowed his head as if he was overwhelmed with grief.

  “I had thought we were friends. Friends, as you must know, tell each other things, particularly when those things concern a much loved individual.”

  He didn’t look the least bit contrite. “Do they, indeed, ma’am? I will remember that for the future.”

  It was no use. She couldn’t shame him into telling her Harry’s secret, and in a way she admired him for standing firm; she knew what the repercussions could be of someone spreading details that were not meant for common knowledge. Taking a deep breath, she rapped briefly on Harry’s door, then entered the room. It was still dark and murky, but at least it was clean, and the windows shown brightly, allowing in more than just a mote or two of sunlight. Today they stood open, the fragrant smell of baked earth and newly scythed grass wafting in, the distant low of cattle and the chatter of birds reminding her of just how wonderful summer could be. If only she could get Harry outside to enjoy some of that lovely weather.

  “Harry, do you have a moment?”

  He looked up from a mountain of papers, his eyes brightening. “For you, however many moments you desire.”

  She gave him a weak smile, nervous and feeling a bit clammy about her mid-section now that the moment had come to unburden herself. She walked toward his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull her onto his lap.

  “I don’t suppose you came in here to work your womanly wiles on me?” he asked, nibbling along her neck. “Dare I hope that you’ve come to seduce me and save me from the mind-numbingly tedious work of sorting through these papers?”

  Plum squirmed on his lap, trying to slow her beating heart, trying desperately to hang onto her good intentions. Harry always managed to drive even the simplest of thoughts from her mind whenever he touched her. Delaying her moment of truth, she seized the opening he offered. “Is your work so unpleasant, then? Is there something I can help you with?”

  He kissed her ear. “Thank you for such a selfless offer, but no. I wish you could, but it’s something I must see through myself.”

  She squirmed again, and he caught her hips, holding her still. “What is it you’re looking for?”

  “Just some boring old notes. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

  “I’m very good with notes. I would be happy to be of assistance.”

  The wonderful laugh lines around his eyes crinkled delightfully as he grinned at her. “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be able to get a single thing done were you to try to help me. I’d be too busy planning what calisthenic I wanted to try with you.”

  “But—”

  “No, thank you, Plum. I should be done with this in a week; then I promise I’ll be a better husband.”

  Guilt washed over her in a wave that had her heart contracting painfully. He was so wonderful to her now, how could he think he was anything less than perfect? Shame made her words sound pettish and ungrateful. “Very well. If you don’t wish to share your burden with me, I won’t pry.”

  Harry laughed and kissed her chin. “As if I haven’t burdened you with enough?” Plum’s heart sank. His words and tone were playful, but his meaning was clear. She hadn’t done very well with the responsibilities he had given her, it was no wonder he didn’t trust her with anything more. Before she could protest, he continued. “Before I forget myself and investigate the charming breasts I know are hiding beneath your bodice, what was it you wanted to see me about?”

  Plum couldn’t meet his eyes. She bit her lip, told herself to stop being such a coward, and blurted out, “It’s something…unpleasant.”

  Harry groaned. “All right. Out with it. Who did what now?”

  A month’s experience of rescuing animals, objects, and sometimes people from the almost always disastrous attention of her stepchildren gave her an understanding of just what he was asking. “The children haven’t done anything.”

  “No? There hasn’t been another accident, has there?”

  Plum frowned. “No, you know I’d tell you if anything else happened, but as you bring that up…Harry, don’t you think it rather odd that so many things have gone wrong during the last few weeks? First McTavish got sick eating something that we’ve still to identify—”

  Her husband cocked a brow. “I thought we decided he ate a poisonous berry by mistake?”

  Plum shook her head. “I’m not convinced of that. He says he didn’t eat any berries, but he’s hiding something. Then the girls and Thom were accosted by that gypsy while they were out walking in the fi elds—”

  “That was likely just a vagrant looking for a handout.”

  “—and then Digger had that fall from his horse. You said yourself that you found two burrs under the saddle, so poor Frozen Dawn had no choice but to buck when Digger mounted him.”

  Harry’s hand slid up her thigh in a most distracting manner. “Yes, but I also said that the boys had been playing with the saddle blankets, and they could have inadvertently picked up a burr or two while they were being dragged God knows where.”

  “That’s unlikely,” Plum argued, ignoring the heat his touch generated.

  “But not impossible.”

  “Then there’s—”

  Harry sighed — he did not have to ration his sighs. “Plum, are you going to recount every incident that’s happened during the last month? Because if you are, I’d prefer you be naked so I can at least enjoy the scenery.”

  She slapped his hand away from where it was creeping, annoyed that even after a month of her trying to control the children, they still behaved like maniacs. “Harry, I’m serious.”

  “I know you are, sweetheart, and I appreciate that you’re so concerned for the children, but close acquaintance with them forces me to be blunt — disaster follows them like shadows. What they don’t cause by their own actions, seems to be drawn to them. Once you learn to accept that, you’ll be much easier in your mind.”

  “Hrmph.” Plum didn’t agree with that, but realized the moment to fight that battle was not now.

  “Was that all you wanted?”

  “No, what I have to say to you concerns me.”

  Both of his eyebrows raised. “You? What could you have to tell me about yourself that was unpleasant? You haven’t changed your mind about me and now want to run off with Juan?”

  “No, it’s not that,” she answered, unable to keep from responding to his teasing grin. She kissed the tip of his nose. “There’s no other man who could possibly compare with you, Harry.”

  He had the smug look of a man with a well-pleasured wife, but as she was the wife in question, she didn’t mind.

  “It’s…uh…about last night.”

  “Last night?” His eyebrows rose again. “What about it?”

  Plum’s cheeks turned pink under his gaze. Stupid cheeks. She had worked through a great many of the calisthenics with Harry, had seen, touched, and tasted almost every part of his person, and still she blushed whenever she mentioned their activities. “Last night, when you performed Matador Facing a Wild Bull, you…you”—her gaze dropped to his shoulder—“finished inside me rather than out, as you have done in the past.”

  “Ah. Yes. That.” Harry’s voice sounded a bit stra
ined. Plum peeked up at him, unsure of what she would see, but surprised to find his eyes filled with remorse. His jaw tightened, a muscle flexing in his cheek before he spoke. “I apologize, Plum. I had not meant to do that, but the matador move had me a bit closer to the edge than I anticipated. I assure you it won’t happen again.”

  Her hopes plummeted. “It won’t?”

  “No. I made a promise, and I will hold by it.”

  Well, hell. She should have known it was a mistake, and not a sign he was softening toward her. Still, she had promised herself weeks ago that when Harry finally trusted her with his seed, she would trust him with at least one of her secrets. “I see.”

  “Plum?” He lifted her chin and peered into her eyes, worry evident in his. “I didn’t hurt you when I did the matador, did I?”

  “No, you didn’t. It’s always been one of my favorite calisthenics, but Charles was never very good at it.”

  Harry relaxed, a slight smile playing around his lips. “I suppose it’s not right to wish the dead ill, but I have to admit I’m happy to know that I can outperform your first husband on at least one front.”

  Plum bit her lip again, damned her weak spirit, took a deep breath, and steeled herself for Harry’s reaction. “Charles wasn’t really my first husband, you are. That is, he was my first husband, except he was already married when he married me, although I didn’t know that until six weeks later, when he admitted that our marriage was bigamous, and he had done it simply because he knew I’d never become his mistress, which was true, I would have never agreed to anything so shocking, only what I did turned out to be more shocking, because everyone thought I had simply jumped into his bed, when I truly thought we were wed, and they cut me, cut my entire family until I was disowned, and sent my poor sister into a fatal decline as a result of the scandal.”

  She ran out of breath before she could finish the explanation. Harry sat still as a stone throughout all of it, his eyes steady on hers, not a word passing his lips. Her gaze dropped before his, unable to bear looking at him any longer. She had known telling him the truth would be awful, but this was unbearable. “I should have told you before we were married. I was too afraid you wouldn’t marry me if I did. I am a coward at heart, Harry, and for my deception I am very sorry. You deserve better. If you’d like me to…to leave, I will.”

  His finger curled around her chin, lifting it, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark and unreadable. “Leave this room, or leave me?”

  Tears pricked behind her eyes. She swallowed, her throat tight and aching. “Whichever you prefer.”

  His kiss took her completely by surprise. His mouth was warm, so warm and loving as he feasted on her lips, then slid his tongue inside to take full possession. Hope, blighted into dust, began to gather itself again. “Silly wife. As if I could survive without you.”

  “You couldn’t survive without me?” Plum asked, her voice quavering as the tears filled her eyes. He wasn’t upset? He wasn’t angry? He wasn’t hurt and disappointed and shocked by her past?

  He kissed her again, gently this time, his thumb wiping away the tears that spilled over her eyes. “You should know by now that I can’t live without you, none of us can. I’m sorry you were treated so poorly, both by the man to whom you’d given your trust, and by your family, but you can’t imagine that it has any effect on us now.”

  “But…but…the scandal!”

  Harry chuckled, he actually chuckled. Plum’s spirits, which had been residing in the bottom of her new boots, rose and soared. He wasn’t angry! He could laugh! He wanted her still! “I think I like you silly as you are now. It’s such a refreshing change from the competent, unflappable Plum. It gives hope to those of us who are made of much coarser earth.”

  “It was a very bad scandal,” Plum said, ignoring his teasing compliment, feeling that as long as he knew the worst, he should be told the full extent of its ramifications. “My father said I would never be received in polite company again, and that no one nice would know me.”

  “Your father didn’t reckon with me,” Harry said, his slow smile making Plum’s eyes fill with tears again, tears of love this time. How could any man be so wonderful? “You’re my wife now, Plum. The fact that you were taken in by the worst sort of rogue twenty years ago will not be an issue.”

  “But, Papa said—”

  “Your father was wrong. I know the ton, and although there is nothing they like more than scandals, this one will not be fodder for their picking.”

  “How do you know that? They were very cruel to me and my sister. Thom has been made to suffer, too, by not being brought out when she should, by not having the advantages she should, or being taken in by my family when her uncle died. I wouldn’t want my sin to hurt the children as she has been hurt.”

  “Thom looks anything but hurt,” Harry laughed. “She’s blossomed here, in case you haven’t noticed. The only blight on her horizon is those blasted breeches you refuse to allow her.”

  “Yes, but the children—”

  “Are fine and this cannot hurt them. You might not think much of my title, but I assure you being a marquis has a few benefits, one of which is the ability to blot up any spills in your copybook. What my title can’t induce people to forget, my reputation will.”

  “I happen to be a very messy writer,” Plum said, thinking that not even Harry could wield enough power to make the ton to accept the notorious Vyvyan La Blue as his wife. That secret, at least, was safe. No one but her, Thom, and her man of affairs knew the truth, and none of them would speak.

  Harry laughed again, hugged her, and kissed her very quickly before gently pushing her off his lap. “If you don’t leave now, I’m going to throw everything on the floor, set you on the edge of my desk, spread your lovely white thighs, and—”

  “Harry!” Plum stared pointedly at the open window. A newly employed gardener stood just beyond, staring in with his mouth hanging open.

  Harry gave her another of his infectious grins. “You see? You’re a bad influence on me. Now go, before I really give him something to gape at.”

  “But, I’m not finished speaking with you about the scandal—”

  “There’s nothing more to be said.” He made shooing motions with a handful of papers. “Take your lovely, tempting self off and do something frivolous. But not too strenuous, you’ll need your strength later. I’ve thought up a variation on Hummingbird Supping Nectar that I think you’ll like.”

  Plum clung to the door frame, her knees weak at the thought, but she made one more attempt to reason with him. “The scandal—”

  Harry set down the papers and walked over to the door, gently pushing her through it. “The scandal is no more. I swear that to you.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. There is nothing to but. I defy you to but me again.” He pried both of her hands off the door frame, kissed each finger, then started to close the door. “Thank you for warning me, but now I must get back to work, else I won’t have time to demonstrate my improved hummingbird technique.”

  “Harry—”

  “Leave. Begone. Avaunt. Off wit’ ye. Bye-bye.”

  The door clicked quietly as it was closed in her face. Plum stared at the door for a moment, thought about using the second of her three daily allowed sighs, and decided the moment wasn’t sigh-worthy enough. “Pooh,” she said, instead.

  “Just so,” Temple agreed as he rose and handed her a salver full of letters.

  “What’s this?”

  “His lordship asked me to give them to you.”

  “Oh.” A sudden thought brightened her. “Is it something to do with his project?”

  “I’m afraid not. They are invitations and letters of congratulations from the local gentry.”

  Plum blanched and backed away from the salver as if it contained a poisonous asp seated atop a large pile of offal. “I don’t want them. Take them away. Tear them up. Burn them. Bury them deep in the compost heap.”

  Temp
le watched her back up toward the door, pursing his lips as she fumbled for the doorknob. “I sense you have a reticence with regards to correspondence of a social nature. I do not wish to pry, but would I be permitted to ask for the reason you wish me to destroy invitations issued to his lordship and you from polite persons of an upstanding nature and general good reputation?”

  “No, you may not,” Plum said, then made her escape through the door, closing it quickly behind her and standing with her back to it as she tried to calm her wildly beating heart. Harry might be convinced that his name alone could keep people from gossiping about her, but she had no such conviction. Until she was sure that he really did have that sort of power, she’d spurn all invitations that might bring her face-to-face with someone who knew of her past.

  Coward, the mocking voice in her head whispered.

  “About this I’m simply being cautious,” she said aloud, and went off to see what sort of deviltry the children had gotten into.

  CHAPTER Ten

  It was the sheerest fluke that Plum happened to be strolling through the lowest levels of the garden when she heard the scream. She was supposed to be receiving the local vicar, but she left Thom to do those honors, and went out with Burt the head gardener to look at reclaiming the last bit of wilderness in what was once a grand tiered garden.

  “I believe this was an herbaceous border at one time,” she said to Burt. “If you were to clean it up and plant some — good heavens, what are the children doing now?”

  Plum and Burt turned to look at the crescent of willow trees that lined a small pond filled with stagnant, odiferous water. She frowned and started toward the pond, her chin set. Burt trotted behind her. “Drat those children, I told them just two days ago they weren’t allowed to hunt frogs on that pond anymore. The last time they did, Anne pushed Andrew out of the boat, and came in reeking to high heaven.”

  “Pond gets the runoff from the compost heap, it does,” Burt said.

  “That would explain the stench. If I find that they’re out in that boat again, I’m going to—”