Page 210 of Historical Hotties
Cora lifted her slender shoulders, thrusting her pert little nose up in the air. “Because Marion de Witt is already betrothed and she is only a year older than I am. I do not want to be an old maid, Dada.”
Creed just looked at her and shook his head. “Marion de Witt is betrothed to Rory Burleson from Hexham because they are close neighbors. And I promise that you will not be an old maid.”
Gaira came back out of the chamber she shared with her five other sisters, sneering as she fussed with the blue cloak on her shoulders. “And Romney Burleson has his sights set on Emma,” she taunted her sister. “She has the breasts of a woman and you are as flat as a board.”
Cora turned red-faced. “I have so got breasts!” she thrust out her flat chest. “See? They are growing larger every day.”
Creed put his hands over his ears. “Stop!” he roared, scaring the girls into silence. When he saw their wide-eyed expressions, he quickly regrouped. “Downstairs, ladies,” he said calmly. “Now, if you please.”
“Dada, do you think I am as flat as a board?” Cora asked.
Creed whistled loudly, pretending not to hear her. Receiving no answer from her father, Cora resumed sticking her tongue out at her sister but dutifully descended the stairs. Emma was right behind the battling pair while Moira, the five year old, was still fussing inside the large chamber. Creed stood in the door of the big, cluttered bower, watching his black-haired, blue-eyed daughter dig under her bed.
“Moira, my love, we must go,” he hissed gently. “What are you doing?”
Moira’s head came up. “My poppet, Dada. I cannot find her!”
Creed set down the bags and cloaks in his arms and found himself on the floor, in full armor, searching under the bed for a doll.
“If you cleaned some of the clutter out from under here, you might be able to find her more easily,” he told her.
“Please, Dada!”
Creed grunted as he was forced to stand up and move the bed aside in order to retrieve the doll. But Moira’s happy face soothed any irritation. He cupped her little head in his massive hands and kissed her cheek.
“Happy?” he asked.
She nodded. “Thank you, Dada,” she said sincerely.
With his child in tow, Creed picked up the bags and cloaks once more and descended the stairs only to find the entry hall at the bottom empty. Holding Moira’s hand, he quit the keep and descended the exterior stairs into the bailey. There was an entire entourage of de Reyne soldiers waiting to escort the baron and his family to the nuptials of Sir Gilbert d’Umfraville. Oddly enough, the spoiled young lad had grown into a rather calm and handsome young man, so the nuptials were something of a joyous occasion.
A soldier came running to him as he neared the entourage, taking the baggage from his arms and going to load it on one of the pack wagons. Creed approached the carriage that held his five daughters, two sons and two nurses and lifted Moira up into the cab. Making sure everyone was properly settled, he looked at Carington as she stood next to the carriage. Their eyes met and he smiled.
“Ready?” he blew out his cheeks in a heavy sigh.
She nodded wearily. “Finally.”
“Do you want to ride with me for a little way?”
She looked into the cab, already seeing that Cora and Gaira were not getting along. They tended to be the most aggressive pair and she shook her head sadly.
“I’d better not,” she said. “I canna leave the wolf pack alone for too long. They might eat each other.”
“Can I at least take Rossalyn? She loves to ride with me.”
Carington shook her head. “She stays with her sisters. I dunna like her on that snappish charger and ye know it. ’Tis no place for a young lady.”
His looked disappointed, yet resigned, as he pulled her into his arms. His dusky blue eyes were soft on her. At thirty-one years of age, she had hardly a line on her face. She was still as beautiful as she had been when he had first met her at nineteen and there were no words strong enough to describe his adoration for her. He worshipped her.
“I have said it before and I will say it again; the girls act just like you,” he murmured, bending down to kiss her tenderly. “You only have yourself to blame for their wild streak.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her body filled with the fluid warmth she associated with her husband. Something about the man filled her, comforted her, like nothing else. He was her rock.
“Then it is my duty to ride in the cab and keep the beasts at bay,” she murmured. “I’ll not be far away if ye need me.”
His lips were on her ear. “I always need you.”
She smiled, feeling him kiss her ear, her cheek. “Which is why we’ve had seven children in twelve years.”
