Jo Goodman (24 page)

"There's no need to look so fierce," she said. "I'm quite all right."

Colin's dark eyes still examined his wife from head to toe. He didn't feel fierce at all, just frightened. "You nearly stopped my heart, madam. From now on, I'm going to carry you everywhere." From somewhere behind him he heard a familiar chuckle. "Better yet, I'm going to spare my back and let
him
carry you." He stepped aside so Mercedes could see Decker.

"Ponty!" She was immediately caught up in his arms. Her own arms went around his neck as he swung her off her feet, her protest lost in laughter. "Oh, put me down! You'll hurt yourself!"

Decker rolled his eyes as he looked at his brother. "She practically fits in my pocket, and she thinks I'm straining my back. I've stolen purses that weigh more than she does."

Colin grinned at his wife as he clapped his brother on the back. "He has you there. Now, just enjoy the ride."

Mercedes looked over Decker's shoulder at her husband and smiled sweetly. "I believe I will."

Colin's brows lifted at her smug and flirty smile. "Tease me, madam, and just see if you don't pay the piper."

"I'll look forward to it," she said softly.

Laughing, Decker jogged up the front steps. "I see why you wanted to save your strength, brother. She's a handful." A servant held the door open for him, and he set Mercedes down inside the entrance hall.

Colin stamped his feet and brushed a few flakes of snow from his hair. "More than a handful these days," he said. "And always needing to have the last word." His coat was taken away. "I can tell you, Decker, she's not to be—" He stopped, his attention caught by the figure on the wide staircase. He stepped around his brother and his wife, unaware their eyes followed him.

As though uncertain of her steadiness, Jonna let her hand hover above the banister rail. She remained poised on the stairs, caught in midstep as Colin approached.

Mercedes laid a light, restraining hand on Decker's arm when he would have stepped forward. She, too, was regarding the young woman on the stairs with interest, but felt none of Decker's urge to interfere.

The guarded, watchful expression faded from Jonna's violet eyes as Colin began to climb the stairs. The shape of her mouth changed, her smile tentative at first, then losing all hint of reserve by becoming broad and open and genuine. The years they had been apart were no longer of any account, and Jonna went into Colin's arms eagerly and without inhibition.

"My God," Colin whispered. He held her tightly, his mouth near her ear. "You really
are
here. I didn't dare believe it when the message came last night. I thought there must be some confusion."

Laughing a little breathlessly, Jonna pulled back. Her eyes remained on his face, searching for changes and finding few that weren't for the better. His smile came more easily, and there was less distance in his dark eyes. His expression welcomed her and unabashedly displayed his happiness. That emotion was one she had rarely associated with Colin, and she understood it existed because of something deeper and more abiding than her sudden appearance in his life.

"No confusion," she said simply.

Colin shook his head as if he still couldn't believe it. He glanced back over his shoulder at Decker. "How did you get her out of Boston?" he asked. "She refused to leave each time I made the offer."

"Abducted her, I'm afraid."

Colin grinned. "I could almost believe you." He looked back at Jonna. "Did he have to knock you out to get you on board?"

Her smile became noticeably more restrained. "Something like that," she managed to say lightly.

Slipping his arm under hers, Colin escorted Jonna down the stairs. "She's afraid of the water," he explained to Mercedes. "Always has been. Or at least she always was. She wouldn't step foot on a Remington ship once it left dry dock."

Jonna felt Decker's eyes on her, but she wouldn't look in his direction. Trying to conceal her discomfort, she fixed her smile on Mercedes. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you," she said. "Colin has written so much about you, I feel as if I've known you almost as long as he."

Mercedes inclined her head. Her smile was soft and engaging. "I had a very similar greeting prepared," she said without guile. "But I'm certain we must have a few secrets held back. He can't know
everything
about us." She took Jonna's arm and led her away from Colin. "For instance," she said conspiratorially. "Did you know that..."

Colin strained to hear what bit of information his wife was giving up, but her voice faded beneath her footfalls. He watched Mercedes and Jonna disappear into the library before he turned to Decker. "How the hell
did
you get her here?" he asked.

"I told you. I abducted her."

The answer didn't raise a smile this time. Colin studied his brother's face critically. There was no easy grin evident, and the light blue eyes were remarkably cool and remorseless. "You're serious," he said.

Decker nodded. "Half the Remington warehouse burned to the ground," he said. "She was almost killed in the fire. I had no choice but to get her out of Boston."

Colin's look sharpened. "No choice? That's a slim explanation. What's the rest?"

There had never been any intent on Decker's part not to tell his brother everything. "Later," he said. "When I know we won't be interrupted. We should join Mercedes and Jonna now." He didn't wait for Colin's reply but began walking in the direction of the library. Just outside the doors he paused and quietly asked the question he had been turning over in his mind. "Is it true about Jonna being afraid of the water?"

"Yes. She won't put her toe in anything larger than a tub, and she can't swim a stroke. Her father drowned at sea. As near as I can tell she's been afraid of it all her life, at least since I pulled her out of Boston Harbor."

"But she was just a baby then," Decker said. "How could she—"

Colin shrugged. He placed his hands on the doors to the library but didn't part them. "Who's to say how she remembers? She just does. Ask her about it." His look was frank. "You didn't know, did you?"

Decker shook his head. "She never let on."

"Did she come topside even once while the ship was out to sea?" Colin asked.

"No."

"Then she was telling you," he said, shaking his head slowly. "You just weren't listening." There was something close to disappointment in his eyes as Colin opened the doors and stepped inside.

Decker followed but not immediately. Jonna had called herself a prisoner once, and he had dismissed that assertion out of hand. Now Colin had confirmed it was exactly what he had made her. Decker felt a certain hollowness where his heart had been. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then steeled himself to face her.

* * *

It was Mercedes, not Colin, who took Jonna on a tour of Rosefield. In construction it was similar to the manor at Weybourne Park, and Mercedes was quite comfortable answering Jonna's questions about the architectural layout and the use of the rooms. Although much of the house was rarely visited by guests, no part of it had been allowed to go uncared for. The conservatory's flowers and greenery thrived, and the spinet in the music room was tuned. The ornate, gilded frames that held family portraits and scenes of the English countryside were free of dust. The furniture was uncovered in all but a few of the bedchambers, and the woodwork gleamed warmly from frequent polishing.

Many of the rooms had fires laid in them, inviting company to linger near the marble mantels. "I can't abide a drafty home," Mercedes told Jonna as they entered the long gallery. "Colin thinks I'm foolish for wanting to keep Rosefield ever at the ready, but I know what it's like when a house falls into disrepair. I don't want to see that happen here as it did at Weybourne Park."

"It's hard to believe that you choose not to live here," Jonna said.

Mercedes's smile was serene. "That's only because you haven't visited the Park, though I admit to a particular bias, of course. I was born and raised at Weybourne, and it will always be dear to me. Colin has no particular attachment to Rosefield so it was an easy decision for us."

Jonna stood back from the portraits on the wall and studied them individually, then as a group. "Family has always been important to Colin. I can understand why he wouldn't want to sell it." She laughed lightly at herself and glanced at Mercedes. "I suppose I've shocked you with the talk of selling. Decker says I'm a thorough Yankee."

"So is Colin," Mercedes said. "For all that his roots are here in this room, he spent too much time with—"

"Me and my family?" Jonna interjected, one of her dark brows rising archly.

"I was going to say with Jack Quincy," Mercedes said.

Jonna felt her prickles fade. "Forgive me," she said softly. "I fear I'm too sensitive."

"Just Yankee proud." Mercedes's smile was gentle now. "I love Colin for it." She paused, sighing. "And for any number of other reasons."

Jonna was silent. Mercedes's words confirmed what Jonna had already observed in the exchanges between Colin and his wife. In Mercedes's burgeoning figure she saw further tangible evidence of their love. Jonna turned her attention back to the portraits. They were a dour group of ancestors, with austere countenances and rather grim smiles. "It's hard to imagine Decker sprouting from this family tree," she said dryly.

Mercedes laughed, as much at Jonna's tone as her observation. "You are so very right." Stepping back, she gave the portraits the same critical attention as Jonna. "Not a rogue among them, though perhaps that's not fair to Ponty."

"Do you always call him that?" Jonna asked. "It's a ridiculous sort of name."

"I doubt he hears it that way. Mere gave it to him."

"Pardon?"

"Mere," Mercedes repeated. "Marie Thibodeaux. His mother." Out of the corner of her eye Mercedes watched Jonna begin to scan the portraits again. "You won't find her there. Even the mother who bore him isn't among these paintings, and Marie wasn't that mother. She and Jimmy Grooms are the ones who took Decker from the workhouse. You know about Cunnington's Workhouse, don't you?"

Jonna nodded. "Colin told me some things. That's where Jack Quincy found him."

"That's right. All three boys were taken there after their parents were murdered. Lord Fielding, the earl here, had been estranged from his son for years. Colin's father, his wife, and the boys were on their way to Rosefield, when their carriage was stopped by highwaymen. The children survived but none of them, not even Colin, knew enough about their journey to say where they were going. There was some attempt to find relatives, as you probably know, but nothing came of it. Greydon left the workhouse first, still a babe in arms. Ponty was next, then Colin. Lord Fielding searched for the boys for years, much as Colin searched for his brothers, but in the end it was mostly serendipitous events that brought Colin and his grandfather together."

Jonna's eyes studied the portrait of the former Earl of Rosefield. He was in his middle years in the painting and there were fine lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. None of them seemed to have been earned through laughter. He had a narrow jaw and fine, aristocratic features. His hair was covered in a powdered wig, but his brows were dark. He was not a startlingly handsome man, but he was not unattractive. There was a certain authority in his features, or perhaps in his carriage, that she had long associated with Colin but only recently with Decker.

"Tell me about Marie," said Jonna. She felt Mercedes's hesitation, and she added softly, "Please. Decker says so little about himself."

Mercedes's nod was slight but knowing. "Colin can be that way. And he uses his eyes to keep distance and privacy. Ponty manages it with a smile. It seems welcoming at first, then you realize he's as remote as the moon."

Jonna's gaze dropped to the floor. Her hands were folded in front of her, fixed and still. "Sometimes," she said softly, in the manner of someone making a confession, "sometimes I want to slap him when he smiles at me like that."

Mercedes wasn't startled by the sentiment, only that Jonna admitted it. She managed to keep her own smile in check. "Marie and Jimmy were accomplished actors," she said. "But they were even better thieves. Decker has never really been clear on which calling they enjoyed more. They traveled off and on as part of a troupe; sometimes they struck out on their own. They posed as missionaries to take Decker from the workhouse, but what they taught him to do was pick pockets. He worked the crowd while they performed, and by all accounts—mostly his—he was quite good at it."

Jonna remembered the way Decker had deftly removed her necklace. "Yes, I believe that."

"I think the odds finally conspired against them," Mercedes went on. "The three of them worked together for eight years, and Ponty became every bit their son. He has nothing but affection for them. For all intents and purposes, Mere and Jimmy were his parents, and when they were gone he never worked with another partner or attached himself to another family."

"What happened to them?"

"They were hanged."

Jonna's eyes widened. "Hanged?"

"You were expecting to hear they were transported, I suppose. I know that's what I'd first thought had happened to them when they were caught. Decker never told me, nor did Colin, the whole of it. We only know that Marie and Jimmy were arrested in London for stealing. Decker somehow escaped, but he was in the crowd that saw them hanged three weeks later."