The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

"I'm married now, Jane." His voice was austere as a vicar's and she marveled at it.

"And the children?"

"What do you mean?"

She looked off toward a small knot of boys, craned her neck and her ears, then shouted, "Tom, stop say­ing that horrible wo

rd! Oh Lord, where do they hear such things? Don't curse! Particularly at John—you know he hates it."

Ryder, who knew Jane's worth, wasn't at all sur­prised when Tom shut his mouth, shrugged with a show of sublime indifference to keep his male pride intact, then turned to throw a ball to Oliver, who hit it expertly with one of his crutches. John, yelling, ran after the ball.

"What does your new wife think about the chil­dren?"

"I haven't told her."

"I don't suppose you've told your brother or your family yet either."

Her voice was tart but he just grinned at her. "It's none of their business," he said easily. "My sister knows, has known for a long time now. She keeps quiet though, for the most part. She refers to the children as my Beloved Ones."

"How did she find out?"

"The brat followed me here once, well over a year ago, and watched from the branches of that oak tree over there. Sinjun's smart. She will also keep her mouth shut." Ryder shrugged. "But as for the others, I've always felt that it's my business and mine alone, and that's how I will continue to feel. There is no reason for them to know. At least now since I'm married and made it clear to my brother that I will be the most faithful of husbands, I won't have to endure any more of his quarterly bastard meetings."

"Are you really certain about all this, Ryder? Fidel­ity just because you're married? It's not the way of your class, I understand."

"Perhaps that is true for many, but not for me. Ah, Jane, the earl has more faith in me than you appear to. He knows I will be faithful to my wife because he is besotted with his own and is firmly in the constancy corner. Thus, no more children, at least the way he looks at things. Poor fellow."

"At last you can quit your damned playacting."

"Now, Jane, not all of it is playacting."

"Ha, do I ever know that. Sara told me about a woman she'd met in the village. The woman knew who she was, asked how you were, and then pro­ceeded to tell Sara that she'd first met you when you were sixteen. Then she gave Sara this vacuous smile. Just when did you begin, Ryder?"

Ryder frowned. "You will find no pot filled with gold at the end of that rainbow, Jane. Forget her, forget all of them. As for my wife, she will come around to believing me a faithful hound soon enough, I daresay. But not just yet. Actually, she's already met Sara and Tess, quite by accident." Ryder looked off toward the very green rolling hills in the distance, smiling. "She stews quite nicely. Sharp tongue in her mouth that I quite like. A wealth of curses that even Tom would appreciate. Hopefully I'll hear more out of her in the near future."

Jane gave him an odd look, saying slowly, "So, you don't see any reason for your family to change their opinion of you?"

"No reason at all. Why should I? They are all quite fond of me."

"You are purposely being perverse, Ryder. I don't understand you. You enjoy the reputation of a Lothario? You like being known as a womanizer, a satyr?"

"Haven't I earned it?"

"Yes, but that's not what I mean."

"I enjoy women, I always have. It's no secret. I know women, how they think, how they tend to feel about things. Ah, yes, Jane, even you. No, no, don't call me cynical again. But the children, well, that's quite different, as you well know. I have a feeling that what you really want to ask me is if I will forget about them now that I have my own family."

"You wouldn't do that precisely, but perhaps you wouldn't come to see them as much as you do now, which would be understandable, of course. It's just that I would hate to see them hurt."

"The children are my responsibility, and I love them. Nothing will change. I am taking my wife to the Cotswolds to my house there on the morrow. If there is any emergency, simply send a messenger to me there. It's quite near to Lower Slaughter, and only a day and a half away. Oh, incidentally, my wife has a little brother who's lame. Isn't that rather an odd coincidence?"

Jane just shook her head at him. If she were ten years younger, she herself would have very much enjoyed frolicking in Ryder Sherbrooke's bed. He had a way about him that drew women, a man­ner that had nothing to do with his good looks and well-formed body, a way that assured a woman he wouldn't ever be selfish or unheeding of her needs or of her wishes. As it was, they'd been friends since he was twenty years old, a young man wild as a storm wind, a young man who hated cruelty toward children even more than he loved making a woman scream with delight. Jane had been thirty at the time, filled with sorrow at the death of both her children in a fire, and frankly uncaring about her future. Ryder had, quite simply, saved her. He'd given her a year-old baby—Jaime—to care for. A baby, he'd told her in an unemotional voice, he'd happened to find dumped in a pile of garbage in an alley. He'd just chanced to hear a mewling sound and found him. A year later, he'd brought her Jen­ny, his own child. It was the first time she'd seen a sorrow to match her own.

She watched him as he rose, dusted off his britches, and went off to play with the children. She wanted to meet this wife of his.

Sophie was standing straight and still while Mrs. Plack, the seamstress from Rye, fitted a riding habit to her. It was a pale green wool with gold braid on the shoulders and Sophie agreed with Alex that it was very smart indeed.

But she couldn't help but fret about the cost of all the gowns and underthings and bonnets and slip­pers and now three—goodness, three!—riding hab­its. She fretted out loud. Alex merely shook her head and said, "Your husband's orders, my dear Sophie. Stop worrying. When I was first married to Douglas, he didn't want to buy me even a handkerchief. No, no more out of you. I have a feeling that all this largesse frightens you, that it represents something of a debt you will owe to Ryder, and that debt is growing with each article of clothing. Am I right?"