Hunting the Hero (The Wild Randalls 4)

“Maisy, sweetheart, don’t hurt your sister.”

Poppy began to wail.

“Dear God, this is intolerable. What the devil is taking that woman so long? Doesn’t she know we need her desperately?”

Rosemary nudged the door open with her foot.

Constantine stood in the center of the room, Poppy in his arms, middle child wrapped around his legs, and the eldest attempting to remove her sister from her father’s legs by pulling her hair. The young duke watched from a corner, a servant hovering at his side. The girls hadn’t ever been so badly behaved. Did everything have to fall apart as soon as she’d turned her back? She stepped through the doorway. “Who is desperate?”

Constantine looked her way with relief. “Me. They were about to come find you.”

The children stopped their crying and fighting, staring at her with huge eyes that never failed to melt her heart. They might not be her flesh and blood, but to Rose they were kindred spirits.

The baby wailed and all but threw herself from Constantine’s arms. His scramble to hold on to the slippery bundle made Rosemary laugh. She took the child. “Shh, little lamb. Here I am.”

The other two girls joined their sister until Rosemary was hampered from moving an inch by all three sets of arms. She touched each one gently, brushing their curls from their hot faces and listening to their complaints. After a few moments, they calmed down and simply hugged her. Rosemary smiled at her charges with pride. Just a little bit of attention went a long way with them. They were the easiest of children to manage.

She raised her face to see the young duke watching them in silence. The resemblance to her brother was so strong that she couldn’t possibly bear him any ill will. He might be the Duke of Romsey, but there was a chance he could grow into a good man. Hopefully he would do a better job of treating the wishes of others with more respect than his predecessors.

When she looked up into Constantine’s smiling face, her heart tumbled over, and her legs grew weak. He reached out to touch her face with his warm fingers. When she pressed her face into his hand, he winked. “Now do you know where you belong? You’re the woman we’ve all been waiting for.”

CHAPTER 29

CONSTANTINE PROWLED HIS bedchamber, frustration growing at his lack of success. Yes, he was happy that he’d brought Rosemary home to Romsey. Her brothers had congratulated him on convincing Rosemary and as they’d talked after dinner he’d realized they hadn’t expected him to succeed in changing her mind. He didn’t tell them what the bargain had been. If he had, he feared Mercy and even Blythe would have been upset over his plans.

He shook his head as the clock on the mantel chimed another hour since Rosemary had disappeared. Had she always been so stubborn, or had circumstances been responsible for her utter self-reliance? The problem with Rosemary was she still held back just enough so that he could never be truly sure if she was with him or not.

The only thing he was sure of was that his daughters had her undivided attention. She’d been more mothering toward them than any governess they’d had these past years. She treated them as her own, and Constantine didn’t mind that at all. But he was their father and couldn’t be left out. He wanted some of Rosemary’s attention from time to time. He feared he might have to wait his whole life for that.

He was pleased she hadn’t tried to take his late wife’s place. In fact, Rosemary mentioned her several times during the day. It was as if she knew they all needed those memories to forge ahead in life without Augusta standing beside them.

However, the second part of his plan had failed. Rosemary was determined to remain his children’s governess and that meant he had to keep a respectable distance. Never mind that her stomach would soon grow large with his child. He still wasn’t sure if he’d convinced her to keep it.

Constantine slipped his jacket from his shoulders and rubbed his jaw. It ached less than it had and he was relieved. He’d been an idiot to allow Mercy to winkle out the information about his lover. His only defense was that he hadn’t known she was Rosemary Randall, sister to a man who punched as if he held lead in his hand. He gently tested his jaw again.

The door closed behind him. “Are you in pain?”

He glanced toward the voice and found Rosemary inside his room, robe wrapped tightly around her delicious body. She looked so tempting that his heart skipped a beat. “Some. How is your condition this evening?”

“What condition?” She came closer and caught his face in her hands and inspected the slight bruise forming on his jaw. “Who did this? Leopold, I assume.”

Constantine winced. “He seemed rather protective of your virtue.”

Rosemary snorted and released him, her hands falling to the ties of her robe. “Too late for that. The girls are asleep finally and it’s time you were abed. I realized you must have come straight back to get me. I’m flattered.”

Constantine jerked his eyes away from the white nightgown that was revealed as Rosemary parted her robe. Damn woman. She knew exactly how well she excited him. “I never wanted to leave you in the first place if you remember, but you were very convincing. I won’t be so easily led again.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and fought her allure. “Are the children happier now?”

“They are angels, as I keep telling you. Really, Constantine, if you cannot handle them at this age, then how will you get on when they make their debut? Do you intend to lock them in their rooms and deny them suitors?” Her robe fluttered from her fingers to the floor.

He groaned. “I’m trying not to think about that as it’s not for many years to come. When the time does come, you decide who is worthy or not.”

“Children age in the blink of an eye.”

“So do their fathers.”

A smile tugged her lips as she inched her nightgown up her legs. She struck one out, toe pointed, and teased him. “Won’t you come play with me tonight?”