Kissing in the Dark (46 page)

“Yes, sir.”

Faith admired her new dresses, fussing over the lace and ribbons. But when she opened the package containing a new pharmacopoeia book, she let out a shriek that sent the puppy scrambling under the sofa. “Oh, Duke! How did you get this?”

The book had been hell to come by, but with Doc Milton’s help and a good bit of money, Duke had acquired it.

She hugged the book to her chest. “It’s the best gift in the world.”

He knew better.
She
was the best gift in the world. She planted a sizzling kiss on his mouth, her sparkling, love-filled gaze locked with his. If not for Cora’s giggles and Adam’s groan, Duke would have whisked her upstairs to their bedroom.

Faith gazed into her husband’s shining eyes, clutching the book to her chest, unable to believe it was hers, and that he was hers. “Thank you.”

He winked, then pulled a rolled paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Adam. “I’d like to make you a Grayson,” he said. “If you sign this adoption paper, then Faith and I can legally adopt you.”

Adam’s mouth gaped open as he stared at the paper.

Astonishment and love surged through Faith’s chest, and she bit her lip, moved to tears.

A broad smile broke across Adam’s face, and he leaned down to speak to his puppy. “I’m going to be a Grayson,” he whispered.

Faith understood what being a Grayson meant to Adam. He would carry a name that was respected and valued in this community. And he would belong; he would have a father who would love and guide him into manhood with all the values Adam respected and admired.

Looking over at Steven Cuvier, the sad acceptance she saw made her heart squeeze. Her father would have been there for them if he’d had the opportunity, if Rose had been truthful. He was happy to become a father to Faith, but Adam needed and loved Duke, and considered him his father. Steven gave a solemn, kindly nod to acknowledge his understanding. “You have my blessing in this,” he said to Adam.

Faith laid her book on the coffee table and got the ink stand and quill for Adam. Her father looked on while Adam signed a document that made him another man’s son.

When they finished, Adam frowned at Faith. “If Duke’s my dad, what does this make you?”

“Exactly what I’ve always been, Adam, your motherly sister.” And her son by possession. The darling little boy she’d loved and raised from birth.

His nose wrinkled. “Does this make you my grandfather, Mr. Cuvier?”

Warmth filled his eyes and he smiled at Adam. “I’d be honored to be your grandfather.”

Chapter 43

Adam marveled that Faith and his aunts, with the help of Duke’s family and Anna, had made the second floor of the greenhouse into a festive hall. He’d carried up chairs and coffee tables that Faith had grouped around the edges of the room, leaving the middle of the hardwood floor open. But the best part of helping was watching Duke’s brothers and Patrick haul a piano upstairs. When they finally set it down, they were panting and sweating, and Adam was staring with awe. Someday he was going to be strong enough to lift a piano.

“It’s so pretty in here,” Cora said, her eyes wide as she stared at the pine wreaths and ribbons and candles that decorated every wall and table.

It looked kind of bright and girlish to Adam, but he and Cora had sure been enjoying the food table in the back. It was loaded with cookies and pies and food they had never tasted before.

Someone touched his shoulder, and he wheeled around to see if Faith was fussing with his shirt collar again. But it was Rebecca, looking pretty in a green dress and shiny green hair ribbon.

Her eyes were almost as sad as the day he’d told her he couldn’t see her anymore. “Are you mad at me?” she asked.

“No,” he said, glad his voice wasn’t croaking as often. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I was just . . . I’ve missed skipping stones and walking to school with you.”

He’d missed it too. Nicholas Archer had been coming around, but it wasn’t the same as being friends with Rebecca.

Cora skipped across the floor to see Amelia’s new baby, leaving him alone with Rebecca.

“Want to go raid the cookie trays together?” she asked with a smile.

He was going to say no, that he’d eaten more than his share, but the hopeful spark in her eyes wouldn’t let him disappoint her. “If you’re allowed to be around me.”

“I’m allowed. Daddy said we can be friends.”

Friends. It was less than he wanted in his heart, but he’d thought he’d lost everything. “Do you want to be friends?” he asked.

“Yes, Adam. But only until I’m sixteen.”

Confused, he wrinkled his nose. “Girls are so odd.”

“When I’m sixteen you can kiss me again.”

His mouth fell open.

“If you want to,” she said.

“Yeah. I mean, sure.” He wanted to kiss her now! “If your dad will let me court you.”

“He will. And when I’m eighteen we can—”

“Gads, Rebecca! Don’t even say it.”

“Why not?”

“Because you might be overheard, and . . . gosh, it’s all I’ll be able to think about now.”

She laughed. “Is that bad?”

“It’ll be torture. I’ve got three years to wait before I can even kiss you.”

“Two and a half. I’m thirteen and one-half years old,” she said, spelling it out for him. She stuck out her hand with those pretty long fingers that could skip stones better than Adam sometimes. “Friends?”

He closed his hand over her soft, warm skin, his heart lifting. She was worth waiting for, and someday he would make her his wife. “For now,” he said, feeling shaky and eager. “But I can’t WAIT until you’re sixteen.”

“I can’t WAIT either,” Rebecca squawked, and they both laughed, their smiles fading slowly as they held hands.

“Will you hate me if I steal a kiss now and then?” he asked, knowing he would, that despite his effort to be good and honorable and live up to the Grayson name, Rebecca’s sweetness and warmth would be too tempting to resist.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

God knows he wouldn’t disappoint her desire for a kiss. He just hoped he could keep his urges under control and not disappoint himself.

“Maybe we should go get some cookies,” he said, because he couldn’t stand there and look at her without wanting to kiss her. She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, and he guided her to the food table, proud to have her at his side.

Adam wove through the crowd and greeted everyone who’d been at Duke and Faith’s wedding. Duke’s younger brother Boyd caught him as he passed by, and clapped a strong hand over Adam’s shoulder. “I hear you’re a Grayson now,” he said, clowning like he did at the sawmill.

“Yes, sir.”

“That’s yes, Uncle Boyd,” he said, scrubbing his knuckles on the top of Adam’s head.

Adam laughed and elbowed him away, but it was the best night of his life. He had a dog, a dad, and Rebecca’s friendship. And later, maybe more.

o0o

Duke watched Boyd joke with Adam and his heart flooded with warmth. He linked hands with Faith and drew her to his side.

The joyous sound of bells filled the room and drew their attention to the front of the room. Bells in hand, Iris stood with Patrick beside the huge pine tree that Tansy, Claire, and Anna had strung with red and gold ribbons. “Welcome to our first annual family soiree,” she said, giving the bells a jolly shake that made everyone clap.

Everyone except Duke. He wasn’t chancing any activity that would make his shoulder ache, because come hell or high water, he was making love to his wife tonight.

Iris winked at him. “This year we have much to be thankful for. I’ll start listing our blessings by giving thanks for each one of you with your loving, forgiving, accepting hearts that have allowed me and my family to find a real home.”

Duke lifted his glass of ale. “Here’s to you, Iris, and your outrageous family, who has taught me not to take what I have for granted.” A loud cheer shook the rafters, then everyone fell quiet, waiting for him to go on, but he was so choked by emotion he could barely speak through the gratitude and love filling him. He moved his glass in an arc to encompass and salute his friends, his brothers and mother, his wife and children, and the Wilde women he’d come to love. “To each of you, for being too stubborn and noisy to let me die in peace.”

His comment made them laugh, and one by one each person in the room added to the long list of their blessings. Rebecca said she was thankful to have a mother and father who loved her.

“I’m thankful to be a Grayson,” Adam said, casting a half-grin at Duke that made his chest tighten with pride. “And to have a bunch of uncles who are as crazy as my aunts.”

“Crazy?” Boyd lunged at Adam, and the boy danced away with a laugh.

“I got a pony!” Cora shouted.

When the laughter died down, Duke’s brothers joked that he would have to carry the piano downstairs by himself, and teased him about taking so long to get back to work at the mill, but they all gave thanks that he had survived his injury.

“Amen.” His mother raised her glass. “I’m eternally grateful to Faith and Doc Milton and this big, crazy family for nursing my son back to health.”

Faith’s arms slipped around Duke’s waist, and she smiled at him with those lush lips. “I miss you,” she whispered, making him want to ravish her on the spot. Her smile faded and tears glistened in her eyes. “I love you, Duke. I’m so grateful for you and for what we share. I feel so much love and . . . Oh, darling, there just aren’t words—” She broke off and pressed her lips to his jaw. He drew her close, agreeing that what they were feeling was too big, too deep, and too powerful for words.

He pulled her closer, tighter, longing to make love with her. “Tonight’s the night,” he whispered near her ear.

“I know.” She looped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him.

“Whoa you two!” Boyd lifted his palms. “Before you start a fire, I’ll go play Faith’s special request.” He swept Claire into his arms and danced her across the floor to the piano. They sat and began playing “Kissing in the Dark.”

The rich sound of the piano filled the room and Duke gathered his wife in his arms and kissed her in front of everyone. “I love you,” he whispered. He would kiss her in the light of day and in the dark of night and every chance he got.

He opened the dance floor right where they were standing, holding his wife in his arms, sharing their deep and true love. He longed for Faith and the privacy to love her, but he savored the moment and the blessing of having this big, loving family gathered around him.

The dance floor filled, and Patrick and Iris twirled past, their bodies close, their eyes sparking with desire and fixed on each other’s face. “She’ll marry him,” Duke said, resting his hand against the curve of Faith’s waist.

“I hope so.” She looked at Iris and sighed. “But you don’t know my aunt like I do. She’s stubborn and independent and terrified of giving her heart to a man.”

“Well, I know Patrick, and my money is on him. He won’t quit until Iris speaks her wedding vows with him.”

“Good.” Faith smiled. “Ste needs a strong man who isn’t afraid of a challenge.”

“Then Patrick is her man.”

“And you’re mine,” she said, drawing him closer, making him tremble with the need to love her.

He felt the unmistakable tug of Cora’s small hand on his suit- coat. She looked up with bright eyes and a chocolate-smudged cheek that wrung his heart. “Will you dance with me, Daddy?”

He wanted to, but he couldn’t hold her in his arms yet. Faith reached down and lifted Cora onto her hip. “We’ll both dance with Daddy,” she said, and Duke gladly, joyfully drew his girls into his arms.

Chapter 44

After a long night of celebration, Faith reached for her husband, missing him, eager for his loving touch. But he stepped away from her and set the lantern on the table in the bathhouse.

“I want to give this to you first,” he said, pulling something from his coat pocket.

To her surprise, he placed her mother’s silver-handled hair brush in her hand. Her breath sighed out and she held the brush in her palms. “You found it!”

“I’d forgotten about it until I put my coat on tonight.”

“Oh, Duke, this is . . . it reminds me of the times Mama brushed my hair.” She stroked her fingers over the painted roses on the porcelain back, remembering those brief but warm moments with her mother. “She loved me.” The truth flowed into her heart, washing away the ache, leaving behind peace and love and forgiveness. “I was loved,” she whispered.

“You were. And you are.”

She drew the brush through her hair, feeling the delicious tug against her scalp and hearing the raspy sound of the bristles slipping through her hair. Her mother had loved her.

“I’ll brush your hair if you like,” Duke offered.

She raised her eyes to her husband, touched by his tender consideration, but she shook her head. She didn’t need her hair brushed anymore; she needed to be in her husband’s arms. She laid the brush on the table, at peace. “I want you to love me.”

“I do,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity and conviction. He embraced her.

“Even after all I’ve cost you?”

“You’ve brought me riches I never dreamed of.”

“Would you have chosen me if you’d known the truth?”

“The only truth that matters is that I met and fell in love with a brave, compassionate and loyal woman, and I chose with my head and my heart when I asked you to marry me.”

She cradled his firm jaw in her palms, loving the textures of his body and the smoldering heat in his eyes. “I could have been a wealthy princess with a kingdom of men to choose from, and I would have chosen you as the love of my life.” He would always be her friend, her lover, the man of her dreams.

o0o

A sense of homecoming filled Duke, and he kissed his wife, feeling a deep, burning need to make love with her. “I wanted to sneak you down here hours ago.”

“I’d have come willingly.” She kissed his neck. “I’ll always welcome your touch.” She nibbled his earlobe. “And your love.” She slid her hands down his sides. “And your passion.”