Taming the Wicked Wulfe (The Rogue Agents) (53 page)

“I thought you might have some issues with the dark,” he said.

Tears pricked her eyes at his thoughtfulness, and she could only nod her head in response.
 

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up.”
 

She let him undress her and lead her over to the bath.
 
The hot water chased away the last of the chill she had been feeling.
 
She did not lift a finger the entire bath.
 
Thorn saw to her every need and she let him, having reached her limit on being tough.
 
When she was finished he helped her out and dried her and gave her a comb to work on her hair.
 

He then stripped and bathed as well.
 
Rebekah combed her hair while listening to him splash.
 
Then she heard him stand and heard the rush of water as he rinsed off with a pail of fresh water.
 
She watched him dry off, the lamps illuminating every glorious inch of his magnificent body.
 
He stalked towards her, bent, and hefted her into his arms.
 
Rebekah dropped the comb on the floor, and he carried her across the room to his bed.
 
Both of them had new age lines on their faces, but neither cared.

Thorn gently laid her on the bed, before crawling in after her.
 
He pulled the covers over them.
 
He lay with his head propped on one hand, while he played with her damp, silken tresses with the other.

“I’m not going to break,” Rebekah said, looking at her husband.

“I worry about you.
 
You don’t have to be strong for all of us.”

“I understand that.
 
I did what I had to do.
 
That man was threatening to take the other half of me, and I couldn’t let him do that.”

“Rebekah, I spoke the truth.
 
I love you.
 
I love you because I choose to love you, not because we were thrown together by some proxy marriage.
 
I’m not sure when it happened, I just know it did.”
 
He bent and tenderly kissed her.
 

“Thorn, I love you, too,” she whispered, tears slipping from her eyes.
 
He chooses me
, she ecstatically thought.
 
Is it possible for one’s insides to melt?
she queried, because it felt as if hers were doing just that.

“I am done,” he said between kisses.

“Done?”
 
She pulled back, curious.

“I have worked my last mission.
 
Someone else can operate the
Lady Luck,
or it can close its doors.
 
I have done things that I am not proud of for the good of this country.”

“Such as?” Rebekah asked curiously.

“I cannot speak of it.”
 
When she started to speak, he held up his hand, halting her.
 
“It is not because I do not want to, but I cannot.
 
Perhaps someday I will be able to tell you everything, but I must know that you can live with merely knowing that everything I did, I thought it to be in the best interest of the country, or because it was a direct order.”

“Of course I know that.”

“Now, I have a wife and children to care for.
 
A duke to see raised and trained.”

“You won’t grow bored?”

“With you to fight with?
 
I very much doubt boredom will be a word that I ever know.”

“Thorn, I have loved you for so very long,” she reached up and cupped his unshaven cheek.”

“I have some catching up to do.”

“You had better start soon,” she said, a daring smirk on her face.

“Yes, lady wife.”

“Thorn,” she whispered against his lips.

“Yes, love?”

“Give me your child,” she said, looking straight into his eyes.
 

“Are you certain?” he asked, his voice sounding very raspy.

“Extremely,” she pulled him down for a kiss.
 

“Bekah, I will love you always and forever.”

“Always and forever.”

“And we will face everything together.
 
I will never leave you alone again, I swear.”

“I know.”

Epilogue

April 20, 1813

“I now pronounce you man and wife.
 
Lord Wulfe, you may kiss your bride,” the rheumy-eyed reverend announced to the small gathering.

Thorn turned to Rebekah and lovingly cupped her face.
 
“I love you, my beautiful wife,” he whispered.

“And I, you, my wicked Wulfe” she returned before he kissed her sweetly.
 
Sighs, sniffling, and clapping could all be heard among the small crowd that had been invited to share the renewal of their vows.
 
Rebekah did not want two wedding dates, and so they had waited.
 
Last year had not proved convenient, as she had been very pregnant at the time with little Jeremy, who even now could be heard chatting nonsensically in Edith’s arms.
 
So here they were, two years after their proxy wedding, finally exchanging their vows to one another.

“Mama, Mama, Mama,” Jeremy babbled and all of the guests laughed warmly.
 
Rebekah walked over and took her son from her mother.
 
She never got tired of feeling the warm weight of him in her arms.
 
The twins were growing and flourishing.
 
Thorn had taken over Zachary’s education, making sure he knew all that he needed to run a dukedom, but he also made certain that the boy still had a childhood as well.
 
Ivy was growing into a beauty and would be breaking hearts and keeping her Uncle Thorn on his toes.
 
Rebekah could not hide the smirk that image presented.

Rebekah watched Thorn work the crowd of guests much like he used to work those that visited the
Lady Luck
.
 
Thorn had seen to it that they remained in contact with their friends they had made in London.
 
He felt Rebekah had missed out on too much growing up, and she needed the closeness of the other women.
 
In a way he had been right, and she had been grateful for their friendships.

Jeremy began to whimper and Rebekah laid him on her shoulder, gently patting his back and soothing him.
 
She moved to the group of women and began visiting with them, Ivy, following close by.
 
Rebekah hugged Ivy to her side, making certain to never let either of the twins feel as if they were inferior to Jeremy or any future children that might come along.
 
Rebekah felt and smelled Thorn’s presence before she felt him behind her.
 
He dropped a kiss on Jeremy’s cheek before taking him from her.

“How is the little man?” he asked.

“Another tooth,” she gave him a lopsided smile.

“Poor thing.”
 
He nodded at someone and Edith came over.
 
“Is everything ready?”

“Yes, dear,” she answered her son-in-law.
 
“Now give me back that precious little boy.”

Thorn handed his son over and then grabbed his wife’s hand.
 
“Ladies, please excuse us.”

“Of course,” the group of women chorused, then giggled.
 
Every one of them remembered what it had been like to be newlyweds, some more so than others.
 

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, blushing at the cheers they were receiving.
 

“You’ll see,” he answered mysteriously.
 
He led her down a path that wound through budding trees and blooming flowers.
 
They came to a lake where a rowboat sat perched on the shore, awaiting its occupants.
 

“Thorn,” she whispered, and she could not help the tears that gathered in her eyes.

“Let me help you into the boat,” he scooped her up, and gently placed her inside before pushing off and jumping in himself.
 
He leisurely rowed across the lake while Rebekah reclined, enjoying the trip.
 
She moved her fingers, watching the sun catch the stone on her new wedding ring that Thorn had picked out just for her.
 
It matched her eyes, sparkling with glints of blue and green.
 
They talked quietly until the boat ran aground.
 
After they were both out, Thorn pulled the little boat ashore and tied it to a tree so it would not float away.
 
They scampered up the path like two children playing tag until they stood in front of a little nondescript hut that had served as the gamekeeper’s cottage until he had a family of his own and outgrew it.
 
Wulfe opened the door but stayed Rebekah when she would have walked inside.

“What are you doing?” Rebekah laughed as Thorn swept her up into his arms.
 

“Carrying you across the threshold,” he said.

Rebekah took in the little hut.
 
Someone had been here and cleaned and prepared it for them to stay.
 

“Well?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Remember the last time we were here?”

“How could I forget?”
 

***

They had been rowing on the lake much like this time.
 
The only difference was she was miserably pregnant with Jeremy.
 
She had been so very uncomfortable that Thorn had suggested they go swimming.
 
Willing to try anything, she had agreed.
 
He had rowed them to a little hidden cove of the lake, well past the old gamekeeper’s hut, where they would not be disturbed.
 
They had splashed and floated and that was where Rebekah’s first real labor pain had made itself known.
 
She had ignored it, assuming she had hours ahead of her, having only her one other time to compare it to.

Together they had been walking out of the water when a pain so sharp and intense had taken her to her knees.
 
Thorn quickly loaded her in the boat, and began rowing; however, it soon became clear they would not make it home.
 
Thorn turned the boat towards the gamekeeper’s cottage.
 

Shore was just in sight when Rebekah growled, “I have to push!”

“We’re in a bloody boat!”

“The baby doesn’t care!” she yelled as she bore down.

“Stop that!”

“I can’t just stop!
 
Are you bloody mad?
 
You expect the baby to just do as you dictate?
 
Is that…
 
Aaahhhh!”

“Dammit, Rebekah, I’m going to strangle you.”

“You were the one that suggested swimming.”

“You were the one complaining you were so miserable!
 
I was only trying to help!
 
Don’t you dare push again!”

But Rebekah did, because she couldn’t not.

“You did that out of spite!”

“I can’t believe you!
 
You think I want to be out here in the middle of nowhere with you as a midwife?
 
Do you know how safe…
 
Grrrrrrrr!”

The boat slid to a halt along the shore.
 
Thorn jumped out, sloshing through the water and picked his wife up in his arms.
 
He moved as quickly as he dared to the old hut.
 
He had quickly settled her on a decrepit looking bed.

“Rebekah, I don’t know what to do.”
 
He looked up when she did not answer to see her in the midst of another contraction.
 
He gave her his hand and she gratefully squeezed it.
 

When the contraction passed, she managed to answer him.
 
“You have to make sure the cord is not wrapped about his neck, and catch him.”

He took a deep breath and saw the most amazing thing in the world when he pushed her dress upwards…the very top of his son’s head.
 
“I see the head.
 
Rebekah, did you hear me?”
 

But she was in the throes of another contraction, working to bring their child into the world.
 
They were not allowing her to rest, rolling in on her as waves from the ocean, one after another.
 
Thorn could only give her his hand and encourage her.
 
Not very long after they arrived at the gamekeeper’s hut, his son slipped from Rebekah’s body and into his hands.
 

“We have a son,” he announced hoarsely over the infant wails that filled the small building.

Rebekah collapsed tiredly against the bed.
 
“Let me see him,” she demanded.
 
Thorn laid his son in his wife’s arms.
 
He gave her his shirt to tuck around him, then sat behind her so she could study him.
 
“He’s perfect.”