Kiss Me at Christmas--Playful Brides Read online

  Give me a cockstand? Yes.

  By God, she’d done it to distract him from the pain. “Thank you,” he whispered, his lips inches from hers.

  “Now for the sewing part,” she replied. She grabbed up the needle and thread Louise had provided and held the needle over the nearest candle for a few moments.

  He took another long swig of brandy. “Are you good at sewing?”

  “Better than Nicole,” she replied with a smile.

  Sweat beaded on his brow and he kept his jaw tightly clenched as Regina made quick work of her task. She sewed the jagged flesh with four quick stitches and used the shears to clip off the end. “There, that should do it.”

  “Thank you.” Daffin poured more brandy down his throat.

  She moved away from him and gathered the rags and shears. “You’ll be right as rain in no time.”

  “I never saw that chap coming.” He shook his head.

  Regina lifted the bowl of water in her arms. “Don’t blame yourself. It was a crowded street. None of us saw him.”

  He clenched his fist. “Until I catch this man, it’s not safe for you to be in crowds.”

  She nodded. “I suppose it’s clear that he’s after me now, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Daffin replied.

  Regina straightened and met his gaze. “Whoever it is knows when we leave the house. That frightens me.”

  “Yes.” His gaze drifted to the window, while his thoughts chased themselves in circles. “He is watching.”

  Balancing the water basin on one hip, Regina handed Daffin a blanket from a nearby basket. He draped it over his shoulders to cover himself.

  He captured her hand. “Thank you for your tender ministrations, my lady,” he said. “I am in your debt.”

  “Nonsense, you saved my life today. I am in your debt.” She pulled her hand from his and turned toward the door to leave.

  Daffin’s voice followed her. “If you’d like to see my other scar sometime, all you need do is ask.”

  Regina paused but didn’t turn around. “Careful. I just might take you up on that offer.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Regina couldn’t sleep. She’d tossed and turned for hours and finally gave up. Her mind raced with thoughts of an unknown man pointing a pistol at her as he emerged from a crowd. She threw off the covers, slid from her bed, tossed on a dressing gown, and sneaked down the stairs to the library. She would find a book. One that would either entertain her or bore her to sleep.

  The library was chilly, its miles of books emitting the pleasant, faintly musty promise of a good read. The Persian rug was velvety beneath her bare feet as she lit a candle and wandered from shelf to shelf, her eyes skimming but not really seeing the titles on the spines, as thoughts of Daffin raced through her mind.

  The past twenty-four hours with him had been unbelievable. Not only had he nearly been killed, but when she’d treated the man for a pistol wound, of all things, she’d been lusting after him like a common street doxy. At the very least, she should have been able to keep her lascivious thoughts to herself while he’d been bleeding. But no, she’d gone and told him how alluring he was with his shirt off.

  Dear God. The man had muscles that went on for lengths. His shoulders were broad and smooth and strong, and the six muscles that stood out in sharp relief on his chiseled abdomen made her mouth water. It was hardly decent to mention it while he was in pain from a shot he’d taken while protecting her. What in heaven’s name was wrong with her? Adding to her egregiousness, she’d touched his thigh. She may have done it to distract him from the pain of applying alcohol to his wound, but his thigh? His inner thigh. She could have grabbed his knee or even his hip. Ooh, she’d like to grab his hip, too.

  She didn’t just lust after him. She liked him, too. The man was noble and kind and funny and flirtatious and a bit arrogant. Just enough to be attractive, not irritating. He was decent and strong and protective, too.

  She knew she shouldn’t focus on her attraction to Daffin. She needed to focus on the danger she was in. And she was in danger. There was no doubt now. It would be entirely foolhardy of her to allow her attraction and flirtation with Daffin to make her forget about the madman who was intent on causing her harm.

  Daffin was handsome. Fine. The man was muscled. All right. The man smelled like soap and spice and something else she wanted to bury her nose in. Very well. None of that mattered. She needed to end her flirtation with him immediately so the two of them could concentrate on finding the man who wanted to hurt her.

  She cuddled up on the sofa with a copy of As You Like It near a brace of candles. She’d been there less than a quarter hour, when the door opened softly and Daffin stepped in. Despite everything she’d just told herself, her belly did a somersault. Bellies could be downright obstinate.

  “Can’t sleep?” He rubbed one hand through his slightly disheveled hair.

  He wore a burgundy silk robe over trousers and what looked to be nothing else. A hint of his broad, bare chest showed beneath the robe. Not the best start to their supposed friendship, her staring at his chest again.

  Regina sat up straight and pulled her own dressing gown tightly over her chest. He shouldn’t see her like this. Her hair was down. She was not properly dressed but couldn’t summon the will to care. They’d already had such a strange relationship, it didn’t seem to matter that they were in the same room alone with each other, wearing night clothes. “I … no, I cannot sleep.”

  “Neither can I,” he admitted. He shut the door with a gentle click and wandered toward her, the wood floor creaking beneath his steps.

  “I’m worried,” Regina admitted. It was a relief to be honest about it. She’d felt as if she might burst with worry until she’d just said the words aloud. She let out a long breath.

  Daffin nodded. “I’m worried, too.”

  She tipped her head to the side and contemplated him. “Bow Street Runners worry?”

  “Yes, it’s a secret. Don’t tell anyone.” He reached the sofa and sat down next to her. The scent of his light cologne—a mixture of rosewood and fig—wafted toward her. She closed her eyes.

  “I promise not to tell.” She crossed her fingers over her heart. “I suppose someone in your profession has a great many things to worry about.”

  Daffin nodded. He sank down in his seat, his beautiful bare feet pushing out ahead of him, digging into the rug. “I want to keep you safe. You and Nicole.”

  Regina glanced away. His feet were beautiful. The thought was troubling, to be sure. “It’s quite a large responsibility, what you do.”

  “I don’t know how to do anything else,” he murmured.

  It was so quiet in the house, the low timbre of his voice vibrated through her. It felt like they were the only two people awake in the whole world.

  “Have you ever lost a case?” Regina turned to face him. They were only an arm’s length apart.

  Daffin cocked his head to the side. He lifted his hand and scratched at the day’s growth of beard on his chin. “A time or two.” He grinned. “But only a time or two.”

  She studied his profile in the flickering candlelight. He had smiled, but there was an undercurrent of anger there. Or was it tightly leashed resolve? She’d thought he had secrets. She was certain of it now. “It bothers you, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  Daffin stared into the banked fireplace and crossed his arms over his chest. “Every day I’m haunted by the cases I didn’t solve.” His voice was rough, but honest. His honesty. That was something else to admire in him.

  Regina nodded slowly. She fidgeted with the hem of her dressing gown, trying to work up the courage to ask the question that rested on the tip of her tongue. She took a deep breath. “Did they ever solve your mother’s murder?”

  Daffin’s jaw clenched. She shouldn’t have asked. He clearly didn’t like to talk about his childhood or his parents, but that only served to make her wonder about them more.

  “They didn’t,” h
e replied, his face a mask of stone. “I did.”

  Regina closed her book and stared at him reverently. “You did?”

  He nodded slowly, his gaze still focused on the fireplace. “Many years after the fact but yes, I did.”

  Regina took a long, deep breath. She pushed the book aside and leaned toward him. “What happened to her, Daffin?”

  He slowly turned to meet her eyes. “A man came into our house and murdered her. On Christmas Eve.”

  Tears filled Regina’s eyes. “Christmas Eve?”

  “Yes.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  Regina searched his face. “Who was it? Why did he do it?”

  “His name was Knowles. He was a paid murderer.”

  “That’s horrifying,” Regina breathed, trying to comprehend such a tragedy.

  Daffin sat back against the sofa. “Yes, well. It’s the reason I sometimes find it difficult to sleep during the Christmas season.”

  Regina lifted her chin. There were more questions she wanted to ask, but she sensed it had cost him something to tell her that much. “When I can’t sleep, I usually read.”

  “When I can’t sleep, I usually have a drink,” Daffin replied. “But I think I’ve had enough today, what with the bottle of brandy.”

  Regina winced. “How’s your shoulder?”

  Daffin gave it a sideways glance and lifted his arm as if testing it. “Sore, but fine. Thank you again for bandaging it.”

  “I think you’re terribly brave to put yourself in harm’s way on a regular basis,” she whispered.

  Daffin gave her a humorless smile. He shifted in his seat, moving closer to her. He leaned toward her. “Brave? Or mad?”

  She twirled a dark curl around her fingertip, her heart beating like a hare’s foot in her chest. “Perhaps a bit of both.”

  They fell silent and stared at each other, Daffin’s eyes so steady on hers, she had to fight the urge to avert her gaze. Then his attention moved … slid, really, up and over her hair, her brow, skipped down her nose, and landed resolutely on her lips. She wet them with her tongue, an involuntary reaction, and noticed the way the candlelight seemed to flare in his appraisal as his own lips parted.

  He leaned closer, the brush of his exhale soft on her skin.

  She closed her eyes.

  His lips were firm, but moved across hers with gentle tenderness. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against him as they kissed. Her fingers inched up his chest and his neck to twine through his hair and hold his head in place. His arms enveloped her, holding her close while his mouth slashed across hers. Then his left hand moved down to touch her hip and Regina thought she would go up in flames. His hand stayed there, riding her hip, not moving, while they kissed as if they could never get enough of each other.

  His mouth moved to her ear and her body bucked. His hand on her hip helped to settle her back down. Then his lips moved to her neck and she arched into his kiss. He trailed his mouth down to her décolletage, and began to push her dressing gown aside.

  “There you two are,” came Nicole’s voice from the doorway, jolting Regina and Daffin apart like guilty children. “Oh, dear. I haven’t interrupted at an inopportune time, have I? I could kick myself.”

  Regina and Daffin quickly moved away from each other. Daffin retreated to the spot he’d occupied moments earlier, a good arm’s length away.

  Regina cleared her throat. “We, er, couldn’t sleep. We both came down here and met quite coincidentally.”

  “I can’t sleep, either.” Nicole slowly wandered into the room, her hand on her belly. “I’m a bundle of nerves.” She, too, wore a dressing gown, and, shivering, quickly snuggled under the blanket with Regina. Daffin stood and moved to the fireplace to stoke the fire.

  Nicole sighed and laid her head back against the cushions. “I know I should write Mark and tell him what’s happened, but I cannot seem to bring myself to do so. I’m so worried for you, Regina. Mark will be, too.”

  “I can write him if you like,” Daffin offered.

  “Oh, that would be lovely, Daffin. Thank you. I must admit I’m frightened. A pistol shot is no laughing matter,” Nicole added in a tremulous voice.

  “I agree,” Daffin replied. “I think we should leave for the duke’s estate in Surrey immediately. You’ll both be much safer in the country, where I can keep Regina away from crowds.”

  Nicole nodded. “If the man who is trying to hurt Regina follows us, he’ll be out in the open.”

  “Precisely.” Daffin jabbed the logs with a poker, sending sparks flying up the flue. “Pack your trunks, ladies. We’re going to Surrey tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Daffin woke with the sun the next morning. There were dozens of details to see to before their party could leave for the countryside. He’d already decided the fewer people who knew about their trip, the better. After he left the ladies in the library last night, he’d returned to his bedchamber to write a quick missive to Grimaldi, informing him of the incident on Berkeley Square and telling him of their plans to leave for Surrey. He assured the marquess his wife and cousin were safe and promised to keep them that way. Regina would not be harmed on his watch. Neither would Nicole.

  Daffin spoke to the housekeeper and butler, instructing them to tell any visitors only that the family was not in London, and not to provide any details as to where they had gone or when they would return. He also asked them not to share the details with any of the other servants.

  Next, he went out to the mews to speak to the coachman and groomsmen. Those servants would be traveling with them to Surrey, but Daffin needed a bigger entourage in case they were waylaid on the road. “I’d like to bring two footmen with me. Whom do you suggest?”

  “Matthew and Timothy,” the coachman said. “They’re the best footmen Lord Coleford has.”

  Daffin returned to the house and worked with the butler to make arrangements for the two footmen to accompany them. He asked the housekeeper to write a note to the duke and his household to let them know they’d be arriving earlier than expected, and he had requested Regina and Nicole be ready as early as possible. He wanted to arrive in Surrey before nightfall. They’d be safer traveling during the day.

  The two ladies were clearly still sleepy when they made their way down the stairs to the foyer. Yawning, they meandered outside to the coach. The footmen marched behind them with their trunks. The maids had been up early packing.

  “Ready?” Daffin asked Regina as he helped her into the coach, trying to ignore the scent of apples as he helped her up.

  “Ready,” Regina replied with a nod.

  “Nicole?” Daffin asked.

  “I cannot wait to leave,” she replied. “I only want Regina to be safe.”

  “Yes,” Daffin replied. “Staying in London would be madness after what happened yesterday.”

  Their entourage set out in two coaches, one carrying the servants, including the two footmen and the ladies’ maids. The other contained Daffin and the two ladies.

  The first hour of the ride passed mostly in silence. Nicole and Regina sat quietly, wrapped in a pile of fur blankets. Daffin kept the curtains drawn until they made it out of the city. Once they were well on the way to Surrey, he opened the curtains to scan the countryside and see if they were being followed. He also regularly checked with the coachman to ask if any other conveyances were behind them. The way had been mostly clear except for the odd wagon or mail coach headed toward the city.

  Two hours into their journey, Nicole fell deeply asleep against the side of the coach. Regina pulled a blanket up to her cousin’s neck and patted it softly. “She says she can barely keep her eyes open now that she’s with child.”

  “Another reason we must ensure she doesn’t get too upset about all of this,” Daffin said.

  “I know. The shot frightened her terribly, but she’s already told me she wants to investigate it herself.”

  Daffin couldn’t help his smile. It was so like Nicole to want to investi
gate her own family’s case. “If she wasn’t with child, no doubt she’d have run the blighter down in the street herself. But I understand why she’s more cautious.” Daffin gazed out the window at the rolling fields. “It must be an awesome responsibility, being a parent.”

  Regina pulled the blanket up under her chin and met his gaze. “Do you want children, Daffin?”

  His gaze shot back to hers. “I can’t say I’ve thought about it much.”

  “What about marriage?” she prodded.

  Daffin turned back to face her and rubbed his forehead. “In my line of work, it would be asking a great deal of a wife not to constantly worry about me.”

  Regina settled back against the corner of the coach. “Are none of the men who work for Bow Street married, then?”

  “Not many of them.” He gazed at her, snuggled into the furs. She looked incredibly vulnerable and incredibly beautiful. “What about you? Do you want children?” The question shot out before he even had a chance to examine why he wanted to know.

  She turned her head to stare out the window. “I never thought I did. But I suppose with the right husband—”

  “Dryden?”

  She rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. “I suppose Dryden will want children.”

  “Why didn’t you want them, before?” Daffin prodded.

  “It’s difficult to explain, really.”

  He leaned back in his seat, making himself comfortable and crossing his booted feet at the ankles. “Try explaining it to me.”

  Regina took a deep breath. She traced a fingertip along the edge of the blanket. “I … I never wanted my children to go through what I went through.”

  Daffin froze. The answer was so close to his own thoughts about children, it unnerved him. He’d never met another person who’d articulated it to him before. “You don’t want to raise children who might possibly become orphans,” he finally said.

  “Precisely,” Regina replied. “I know that must sound mad.”