Page 20 of Her Wicked Highwayman
“Excellent. Could you please have a bath drawn for me?”
“Of course, sir.” The footman rushed back toward the house ahead of him.
Rafe’s muscles were damned sore from the past several days of chasing down coaches. Most people who were robbed gave over their jewels and money quietly, but every so often there was one man who tried to be a bloody hero. Rafe was usually the one to put a stop to the foolish heroics with a single punch, but every now and then he’d had to tussle until a coach passenger playing the hero was subdued.
By the time Rafe reached the house he was ready for a bath, a meal, and bed, but he knew he would not get to bed as early as he wished.
The butler, Mr. Cheaves, greeted him at the door. “It’s good to see you’ve returned, Mr. Lennox. You’ve been sorely missed.”
“Have I?” He chuckled as he glanced around the empty entryway. He hadn’t expected a welcome party, but it would have been nice to see one person glad to see him. Sometimes he thought Cheaves just tried to be polite because he was still a Lennox.
Cheaves smiled back. “Oh yes, Miss Isla has been staring out the windows waiting for you to come home every day, sir. You chose to come back the one day she wasn’t allowed to. His lordship has been keeping her busy today.”
“Oh?” He couldn’t deny the warmth that blossomed in his chest at the thought of at least one person missing him.
“Of course, she adores you, sir. She said?—”
A booming voice cut off the butler. “Rafe!”
Rafe winced at the sound of his elder brother’s bellow.
Ashton appeared at the top of the stairs, his fierce blond-haired Viking appearance somewhat softened by the young girl he carried in his arms. Rafe’s girl. Once upon a time, it had been said that he and Ashton looked like two sides of the same coin, both tall and fair-haired with bright-blue eyes. Ashton had let his hair grow longer, and Rafe had kept his trimmed shorter per the style of the day. It was strange to think that Ash looked more like a barbarian warrior and Rafe the polished gentleman, given who the true pillager of the family was.
“Good evening, brother.” Rafe managed to grin at Ashton as he came down the stairs.
Isla stared at him, her eyes wide as she blinked away tears on her rosy cheeks. Had his wee mite been crying?
“Let me take her.” Rafe held out his arms, his body aching to have the comfort of her light weight in his hold.
Ashton passed her over, but his fierce blue eyes shot an accusation at him.
“Three weeks is far too long,” Ashton said. “Rosalind and I’ve had to take turns sleeping in her chamber nearly every night. She cried whenever she woke up from bad dreams and you were not there to comfort her.” His brother’s tone was gruff, but quiet, so as not to worry the girl. “I hope you have settled whatever business you had in London and can now stay here for a time.”
“For now,” Rafe assured him, but the lie was bitter upon his lips.
Ashton could never learn that he was still robbing coaches. He would be furious to know Rafe was risking not only his life but his family’s reputation, and an angry Ashton was not something anyone wanted to face. The man could throw a punch strong enough to fell an elephant.
“Perhaps we should speak about it?” Ashton offered.
“Could we discuss it later? I am weary and want to spend time with my little Scot.” He gave Isla a playful sway in his arms, and she squirmed with a little giggle. “And speaking of Scots, where’s your hellion?”
The stony expression on his brother’s face softened to one of a lovestruck fool. “She’s dressing for dinner. We had a long afternoon together in the gardens.”
“Did you, now?” Rafe teased. He knew just what his brother and his sister-in-law would have been up to in the gardens, assuming they were left alone.
Ashton’s wife, Rosalind, was a dark-haired beauty who enjoyed the world of business as much as his brother did. The two made a fierce yet perfect pair. Rafe couldn’t deny the pang of envy he felt. To have someone he trusted like that, a woman who rivaled him in cunning and matched him in sensuality... He desperately wanted what they had. But a lady who was a man’s perfect match was as hard to find as a shooting star across the night sky. One could wait a lifetime and never see that flash of brilliant starlight.
He blew out a soft breath as memories of last night filled his head. Now that woman had been a comet, bright and bold, moving across the heavens far out of his reach. But he’d reached for her, and for a moment, he’d almost touched heaven itself.
“We shall talk later this evening,” Ashton said, and placed a hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “See to Isla and change for dinner.”
Rafe carried his daughter upstairs to her nursery, where the plump nanny, Mrs. Chesterfield, sat in a rocking chair, darning a small white pinafore with a tear in it. Isla must have been climbing trees in the garden again. The nanny’s white ruffled cap covered her silver hair, but she had a quick mind and seemed to need very little sleep, which, when it came to watching a busy little child, was an invaluable trait.
“Mr. Lennox!” The nanny rose with a smile and set aside her darning. “Isla has missed you.” She looked lovingly at her small charge, and Rafe felt that bittersweet ache in his chest once more.
If only he could give Isla a mother, so that when he was away she had another parent to love her. Her previous governess, Sabrina Talleyrand, had been the closest Isla had to a mother, but she had married another. Rafe had approved of the match, of course, but when he had seen Sabrina walk down the aisle, he realized he could have married her, that he could have been glad for a female companion, a permanent one. They would have been happy enough together, and perhaps one day that easy affection could have grown into love. But her heart had belonged to another, and he could not stand in the way of that.
If only his little fire drake had stayed through the morning. He had planned on waking her up in a most satisfying way. Then he would have gotten her to tell him her name and he would have escorted her home. But he knew logically that because she’d taken his money, she wouldn’t have wanted him to know her name or where he could find her for that very reason.
