A Night of Redemption (The Night Series Book 2) Read online

  “Mrs. Church is crying.”

  “I know. I’ll check on her. Go to bed.”

  The boy rolled to his back and sighed dreamily, completely trusting. Confused by his own tumultuous emotions, Nate closed the door and headed toward the governess’ room, pushing worries of the children from his mind.

  Softly, he knocked.

  No response.

  For a brief moment he thought of returning to his room. Whatever nightmare she’d had was over. It was best if he didn’t enter that small chamber. In there anything could happen. He could have her so easily, if he truly wished. A woman alone in her chamber. Even if he didn’t touch her, he would ruin her reputation if anyone found them together. He swallowed hard, his pulse pounding, the demon urging him to enter that room. He rested his palms flat against the wooden panel, as if he could sense her through the door.

  She whimpered once more.

  “Blast it.” He wrapped his long fingers around the handle and pulled the door wide.

  The hinges squeaked overly loud and irritating but the form huddled on the small bed didn’t even flinch. A sacrificial lamb. He could have her skirts up around her waist, have her heated and wet…wanting him within moments.

  He nudged the door shut, enclosing himself in the tiny room with her warm body and her heady scent…utter temptation. Her very essence curled around him, clean and feminine. His knees went weak. Her glorious hair was spread out across her white pillow, the color so brilliant that it was as if he dreamt all over again. His fingers curled as he resisted the urge to go to her, to sink his fingers into the silky strands and press his mouth to those lush lips.

  “I had to do it,” she mumbled, frowning. “I swear.”

  “Mrs. Church.” He edged ever closer, but kept his distance, afraid he wouldn’t be able to control himself if he touched her smooth, satin skin. What demons haunted her dreams? The pale, narrow face was puckered in concern, her limbs thrashing under her sheets as if she tried to fight some monster. How easy it would be to comfort her, to take advantage of the vulnerable woman he’d sensed in his study.

  Ignoring that tiny bit of humanity left that pleaded with him to leave, Nate leaned over and rested his hand on her shoulder. She was thin, frail almost. This was the woman who would bring his children to task? The woman who would protect herself from him? He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

  “Mrs. Church,” he snapped, tired of the games, tired of the need.

  She jerked awake, staring up at him with wide, confused eyes that didn’t fully comprehend the situation within which she suddenly found herself. The same eyes he’d seen in his nightmare. Hell, he had meant well by coming to her…at least that’s what he told himself. But he knew the truth: the beast had led him here. Desire surged, crashed, drowning him like a wave. He stumbled away from her.

  “You were crying out in your sleep,” he tried to explain.

  He realized how ridiculous it sounded. He could read her mind…how had he heard her? Unless he was already nearby. She bolted upright, scrambling across the bed, placing it between them. As if the small piece of furniture could protect her. As if anything could protect her from him. If he decided he wanted her, there would be no stopping the animal.

  “Oh my.” She rested her hand to her heart. She was shaking, trembling with a fear and exhaustion that fed him.

  Hold her, the beast whispered. Comfort her. Take her.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He stared hard at her. She had apologized to him? God, it made him ill. She sure as hell wouldn’t be apologizing if she knew the truth. “Are you well?”

  For one long moment she merely looked at him as if she hadn’t a clue how to respond. Did she have any idea that he could see the curves of her body through the thin material of her gown? That the moonlight made her glow?

  “Yes. I’m well.” She snatched her dressing robe from the end of her small bed and gripped it tightly to her chest. “I was merely overly exhausted from travel. Please forgive me.”

  “There’s no need.” The room was small. It seemed smaller. He was in her chamber, an unmarried man, an unmarried woman. To say it was inappropriate would be an understatement. He stepped back, yet didn’t leave.

  For one very long moment they merely stared at each other. Her innocent gaze caught him, held. The world vanished, only the two of them remained. The very air seemed to leave the small space. Her heart beating, her pulse pounding, her breath harsh and warm…whispering to him from across the room. There was an undeniable attraction between the two of them. He didn’t understand it, but he could sense it. He felt the overwhelming need to know her completely, fully.

  Shite. Bloody fucking hell.

  “I’ll have the maid bring you tea,” he finally got out.

  “That’s not necessary.”

  But he didn’t wait to argue, merely turned and forced himself to leave the room before he did something he’d regret. She had smelled as she had in his nightmare…warm and delicious. Nate moved down the hall, fleeing the woman, outrunning his need. How could he have thought her unattractive?

  With her hair down around her shoulders, she had looked almost ethereal. A veritable angel he didn’t deserve… but wanted. He paused at the stairs, bracing his hands to either side of the wall, his breathing ragged and harsh. Oh, how he wanted her. How he wanted her almost as desperately as he’d wanted that woman in his dream. He stumbled down the steps.

  God save her soul.

  Chapter 3

  She’d lost his children.

  Seven days into her position and she’d lost Lord Brimley’s children. One would think that four rambunctious lads would be rather difficult to misplace, but she’d managed rather well.

  Not that it was quite her fault.

  She’d gotten up with the sun, per her usual routine. She’d dressed, fixed her hair, steeled her nerves while going over the plans for the day, like a general going over strategies of war. Not that it would do much good. The last six days had been a mixture of chaotic events, from breaking up fights between the boys, to cutting molasses out of hair, to freeing a mouse she’d found in her desk drawer. She’d spent more time reprimanding than actually teaching.

  But when she’d opened the door this morning it was to find their beds empty, the room still and quiet. Very strange. A warning prickle trembled over her body. She looked under the beds but found no one. Bemused, she moved to the large wardrobe, braced herself, and pulled open the doors expecting them to jump out and frighten her to near death. But…nothing.

  “Oh dear,” she whispered, closing the doors and leaning against the wardrobe. Surely they wouldn’t be up this early. It would be abnormal, but then nothing in this blasted house was normal.

  Unless…they’d never gone to sleep.

  “Good God,” she muttered.

  A shiver of fear raced down her spine. What if they’d torn up the house on some adventure? Gotten lost in the woods? Run away from home? The possibilities were endless and terrifying. Frantic, she raced down the narrow servant’s steps to the kitchen. She’d made it to the bottom, heart hammering, when Mrs. Turner appeared.

  “Blimey!” the older woman cried, so startled she fell back against the wall.

  “I do apologize,” Beth said. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “Think nothing of it. I’ve been through worse,” she said, although she kept her hand pressed firmly to her chest, right above her heart, and her pale face looked anything but well.

  “Good, wonderful.” Beth hesitated on the last step, knowing she should explain herself, but also knowing if she did, she’d be let go without reference. With a serene smile, she pretended ease all while peeking around the woman to see if the boys were in the kitchen eating breakfast.

  “You’re down early.” Mrs. Turner frowned. “Would ye like breakfast sent up? Is the bell not working?”

  She attempted to keep her face expressionless, but Beth could feel the slow burn of a blush rising up her neck. Sure
sign of guilt. There was no way around it, she was going to have to tell the truth. “Well…you see…did Mary, perhaps, take the children for a walk?”

  “What, miss?” Mary straightened from behind an open cupboard where she’d been cleaning. The entire room slowed as the kitchen staff turned toward her, attempting to understand her odd behavior. “No, Mrs. Church. I haven’t yet gone to the boys.”

  Wonderful. Just bleedin’ wonderful.

  It wasn’t as if she missed the little hellions. But the country estate was the perfect place to hide, and dealing with the boys had at least kept her mind off of the horrifying fact that Lord Brimley had been in her bedchamber that first night. She’d happened upon him exactly twice since their inappropriate encounter. Both times she’d mumbled something incoherent and scurried away.

  Fortunately, the man had left the estate days ago; she could only pray he wouldn’t return until she’d found his devil’s spawn. And if she couldn’t find them? Well then, Mrs. Turner would throw her out upon her ear, and Beth wouldn’t have to worry about seeing Lord Brimley again anyway.

  “Right,” Beth finally replied. “Well then, I’ll just…”

  She raced back up the stairs without further explanation. Where had they gone? Breathless, she reached the first floor. If he returned before she found his children, Lord Brimley would murder her. She had no doubt the man was capable of killing. Perhaps she could be gone by the time he returned.

  The sudden burst of a giggle caught Beth’s attention. She paused, listening. Waiting. Another giggle from the left, down a long, dark corridor of a wing where she’d never ventured. Ire fought with relief. They weren’t in danger. No, they were merely attempting to rile her once more.

  “Tommy?” No response. Beth started down the dark hall where the curtains had yet to be drawn back. “Tommy, I know that’s you…”

  A small shadow darted across the hall and through another doorway. A shadow she recognized only too well.

  “Tommy!” Beth hissed, trying not to speak above a whisper for fear of drawing unwanted attention.

  With a frustrated growl, she lifted her skirts and raced toward the door, only to draw up short. Yet another set of narrow steps, but these led outside, for the bright light of morning pierced the gloom below. What were the wretched lads planning?

  She certainly couldn’t ask for help in catching the boys. Then they’d know she couldn’t do her job. Perhaps she could bribe the boys. But with what? She owned exactly three dresses and she doubted the lads would care for such a trade.

  The staircase ended at a door, left ajar, allowing the cool morning air to seep in to the small foyer. It most likely wasn’t the only hidden staircase. The house seemed as old as Zeus. The stone walls were probably mired in history and secrecy. And no doubt the little darlings knew every hiding place.

  She pushed the door wider and stepped outside. The sun had just risen, brilliant rays, blindingly bright across the top of the rock wall that surrounded the back garden. She paused for a moment, allowing her eyes to adjust. No one near the back drive, no one in the vegetable garden. She shifted her gaze to the small field within the fenced land. When she saw the open doors to the stable she knew where the boys were hiding.

  “Blasted little demons,” she muttered as she moved across the garden, ignoring the chill dew that soaked her boots. She didn’t dare hurry and draw attention to herself. And when a maid scurried by, she forced herself to smile at the young girl, praying she didn’t look the least bit suspicious. It was nearly time for breakfast when she reached the stables. Soon, Mrs. Turner and the others would wonder where they’d gone.

  “Boys?” she called out, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

  She heard the creak of the pail swiveling right before the mud dumped down over her head. Beth sucked in a screech of outrage, clamping her mouth shut and squeezing her eyes closed. It was all she had time to do. The murk splashed over her head, dripping to her face and down around her shoulders. All the while she could merely stand there and wait for the humiliation to end. Over the curses she shouted inside her head, she could hear the giggles fading as the boys raced back to the house. At least she had finally found them. One bright spot to a wretched morning.

  For a few minutes she merely stood there, letting the cold murk settle as she accepted her muddy reality. When it finally stopped dripping, she managed to blink her eyes wide. She’d been warned repeatedly, even by their very own father, that they were hellions. She had no one to blame but herself.

  With a sigh, she pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve and dipped it into a nearby bucket of water. Well, she had thought about dying her hair so as not to be recognized. And she supposed, as she glanced at the horse stalls, it could have been something worse than mud. She was too exhausted to be angry or lose her temper. She’d grown strangely numb. The handkerchief was a pathetic washing cloth and soon grew dirtier than the mud.

  “Blast it.” She tossed the crumpled cloth to the ground in frustration. With the staff in constant attendance, there was no possible way she could sneak in unseen. There was no avoiding it, she would have to find help. The kitchen maids would know, Mrs. Turner would realize the truth, the entire house would find out by midmorning. She’d become a jest. Well, fine then. She’d been laughed at before. Tilting her chin in defiance, she turned toward the door. She would walk boldly into that kitchen with no shame. And she would, eventually, she prayed, subdue the boys.

  She’d made it only two steps when the door swung wide. A woman in a smart dark green riding habit and a jaunty black hat paused in surprise. Her blue eyes found Beth and went wide. Blue eyes Beth recognized in an instant.

  “Oh dear,” the woman laughed. “What has happened?”

  Beth froze, horrified and embarrassed.

  Lady Eliza Palmer. Even eight years later she’d know her anywhere. What the blasted hell was she doing here? They’d been debutantes together so many years ago. Eliza’s family was far prettier than hers, and the woman had set her cap for Beth’s husband. But none of that had mattered because he had chosen her. The entire ton had been shocked when he’d proposed to Beth. Perhaps he had known he couldn’t intimidate Eliza; that she would see through his ruse before the wedding. But Beth hadn’t. No, she’d been too grateful for his attention. Or maybe Eliza’s father had denied the man. Whatever the reason, Beth had been the unfortunate person to marry Christopher.

  “Let me guess…the boys?” Eliza shook her head. “I’ve told Nathan repeatedly that they belong away in school where they can no longer torment innocents.”

  Beth had thought the same thing at least a billion times in the last seven days, but for some reason when Eliza said the words, it made her spine stiffen, and her instinct to protect the lads flared. After all, this was their home too, and it wasn’t their fault they’d been allowed such behavior.

  “If you’ll excuse me, my lady,” Beth muttered, dropping her gaze to the ground. Fortunately, because of the mud covering her face, she didn’t think the woman recognized her, and she’d like to keep it that way.

  Eliza pulled off her gloves, one finger by one finger, as if she had all the time in the world. “Of course, of course, you’ll want to clean, I suppose.”

  But Beth wasn’t so lucky.

  “Mrs. Church?” Lord Brimley’s voice growled from the back of the stables.

  Beth spun around, facing him as he stomped toward her, a veritable stallion of anger. Wonderful, he’d returned.

  “What the hell has happened?” Lord Brimley in shirtsleeves was seductive, but in his fitted riding gear that hugged his muscular body, he was so handsome it almost hurt to look at him. Although he’d been gone for only a handful of days, for some reason it felt like forever.

  “Your boys happened,” Eliza drawled out.

  Dear lord, were he and Eliza friends?

  Lord Brimley’s glaring blue gaze remained firmly on her. “If you can’t handle my sons, then maybe it’s time we had a little talk.”
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br />   The reprimand was ten times worse spoken in front of Lady Eliza. Beth clenched her jaw, refusing to show him just how much his words stung. How she wanted to slap the arrogance from his face. He knew, as well as the entire household, that his sons were incorrigible. How dare he try and blame her for their bad behavior.

  “Oh Nathan, do let her go. You know as well as I that even Attila the Hun would be hard-pressed to handle your children.”

  “Go then,” he growled.

  Beth didn’t attempt to explain, nor did she bother to curtsey, but merely spun around and raced from the stables, for once in her life grateful for Lady Eliza.

  ****

  “Where have you been?” Eliza asked. “I came calling the other day, and—”

  “Why are you here?”

  Mrs. Church had been furious with him. Oh, she hadn’t said anything, nor acted in such a way. But he’d seen the flash of anger in her amber eyes and the fury only made her all the more beautiful…even covered in mud.

  “I missed you. Really, Nathan.” Eliza sighed as she slapped her gloves against her palm. “When are you going to place your sons in school, where they belong, and when are you going to marry me?”

  Here was Eliza, a woman men would murder for, and he was thinking about his mouse of a governess. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He’d made the mistake of kissing Eliza years ago and as any titled woman would have, she assumed he’d wanted to marry. Any other time he would have proposed. Widowed young, she was a perfect catch: wealthy, from a titled family, her land attached to his. With their combined acreage, he’d be one of the wealthiest men in England. But he wouldn’t do that to her. She wasn’t for him. No one was for him.

  Eliza trailed her bare fingers down the sleeve of his jacket, a light touch, but an inviting one. Hell, it was becoming more and more difficult to dissuade her. He should have been interested, he’d always been attracted to the beauty before him, so why then was his gaze on the retreating governess? For some reason the woman fascinated him. Strong-willed and full of secrets, she was an enigma whereas Eliza was clear as day.