Page 70 of Blackthorne's Bride


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Ten minutes later they reached Carlisle, and he left Maddie in the carriage, with the bear in his cage behind. She was full of more promises not to leave or even think about leaving.

Skeptical, Jack turned back several times as he walked away, to make sure she hadn’t moved. His first stop was a nearby tavern. It was the best place for local gossip. And he desperately needed a drink.

He ordered a gin, swallowed it in one gulp, and asked for another. A few minutes later he had the information he needed. He returned to the carriage, pleased to see that everything was as he’d left it. A few curious townspeople were milling about, trying to get a good look at the bear, but the coachman and the outriders were keeping them away.

Jack nodded to the coachman and then inclined his head toward the coach. The coachman gave him a reassuring wave. All was as he’d left it.

Jack allowed the muscles of his shoulders to relax. Maybe this marriage wouldn’t be as difficult as he’d feared. His wife could follow his directions. She wasn’t as unmanageable or stubborn as she’d seemed.

He opened the door of the coach, a smile on his lips. “Guess what? Your professor—What the hell?”

“Jack! Don’t yell. You’ll upset him.”

And right on cue, the small snot-nosed child in her lap began to bawl.

Jack stared, blinked, then stepped back and shut the carriage door. Outside the carriage, the kid’s cries were muffled, and Jack closed his eyes.

He hadn’t had that much gin, had he?

No.

Impossible.

Even when he’d spent the night drinking, coming home completely floored, he had never imagined seeing children.

Jack took a deep breath, opened the carriage door again, and winced. The kid was still wailing loud enough to wake the dead. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but his jaw was clenched too tightly.

“Now, Jack,” Maddie said, holding her hand out. “Don’t become distraught. I didn’t leave the carriage.”

Jack heaved in a deep breath and blew it out again. He stared at the urchin on her lap and willed the kid to shut up.

“And I didn’t find any bears, dogs, or rabbits. That’s what you said. You didn’t mention children.”

He was aware that his breath was coming in short, fast heaves. He probably looked like a man who’d just run three miles. But it was either that or punch a hole in the carriage.

“Jack, are you all right?” Maddie asked tentatively.

The child in her lap had finally stopped crying and now was hugging her, thumb stuck in its mouth, staring at Jack with more interest than fear. Jack didn’t have much experience with children—they all looked the same to him—but he guessed the kid was somewhere between three and ten.

And it was probably a boy.

Or a girl.

He didn’t know if it could talk, but it looked like it could walk. It was dirty, its clothes tattered, and its face crusted with snot.

Jack pointed to the kid. “Where did that come from?”

“That?” Maddie followed his finger and frowned. “Timmy?”

Oh, devil take him. It had a name. “We’re not keeping it. I’ve already agreed to keep the bear.”

“Well, a bear is hardly the same as a child.”

“We’re not keeping it!” Jack bellowed, and Timmy started crying again.

Maddie ran a hand over the child’s dirty curls and glared at Jack. “If you keep yelling like that, I’ll have to ask you to leave. I won’t tolerate yelling in my carriage.”

“Your carriage? This is my bloody carriage.”