Married At Midnight Read Online Free PDF Page A

blushing. He thanked God for the shadows and his sun-darkened skin.
    "Did I dream it?" she asked. "Or are we married?"
    Tension coiled in him. It had seemed so right, yet she could hardly be said to have been in full possession of her
    faculties. "Yes, we are married, Kate. This little one is the legal son of Captain Charles Tennant unless his mother decides to contest the dubious honor."
    "There is nothing dubious about it. I fear it is a terrible imposition on you, though. Such undisciplined weeping and wailing..."
    "Hush." He leaned forward to place the baby in her arms. "I have no particular use for my unmarried status and am
    glad to surrender it in the cause. I fear it's more likely to inconvenience you than me. But war often takes care of such problems."
    * * *
     
    Kate held her precious child close, looking up at Captain Tennant—her husband, for heaven's sake— not at all sure what to say. She knew this campaign was not going well, and Dennis's death was proof of it. In a little while she was going to be very concerned over the safety of herself and her son, but for the moment she was more concerned about this man.
    Charles the Bold, they called him because he seemed without fear. Even just walking through the camp he gave off a kind of energy, a readiness, an extra dose of pure life. He led the charge others quailed from. He captured positions others thought invincible.
    In many ways Dennis had hated him—a kind of envy really—but he'd loved to serve under him because Dennis was above all a soldier. He wanted to be in the thick of things and victorious.
    Part of the captain's boldness came from strength, she supposed. He was an impressively big man, lean and hard with muscle, dusted dark with virile hair. In the intimacy of army life she hadn't been able to

    avoid seeing men in various stages of undress and she'd sometimes feasted her eyes on the captain's fine form.
    And felt guilty afterward.
    His was a boldness of the spirit, though. She'd often seen his dark eyes light with the joy of a terrifying challenge. He didn't laugh much, but his smile, wide and carefree, had terrified her once or twice. It had generally been a prelude to
    him leading his men into appalling danger.
    His smile now was just an ordinary one, yet he seemed to be expecting to die. She'd heard him say that since he didn't fear death, it could not dismay him. Now, he still didn't seem to fear death, but was he walking toward it?
    She'd seen it happen a time or two. It wasn't suicide, and it certainly wasn't fear. Sometimes men just grew war-weary. They cheated death again and again until one day the game palled and death, like a teasing harlot, became not the
    enemy but the seducer.
    Kate didn't have the energy to fight death at the moment, but she'd hate to think that their strange midnight wedding
    might have pushed him closer to the brink. "I would much rather you didn't die," she said simply.
    "Then I assure you I will endeavor not to. I think this greedy lot may have left a little stew. Would you like some?"
    "Yes please."
    When he left her corner, she put the baby down on the bed and pulled back the blankets a little to peep into the room. Now the excitement was over, the men had rolled in their cloaks and blankets to sleep.
    Mr. Rightwell was sitting quietly by the fire. He looked up and smiled at her quite kindly, so she smiled back.
    She'd almost kidnapped the poor man and dragged him along on this adventure.
    The captain had squatted down by the hearth to scrape the last of the stew into the bowl, and the dying fire outlined him like a halo. She grinned at that. Saintly, he certainly was not.
    Good, though. Yes, he was a good man. She'd lived with his company now for over a year and seen the way he cared for his men. A rough caring at times, and he could be harsh when called for, but caring all the same.

    She dragged her eyes away from the sight of him and turned back to her baby. She'd wrapped him in cloths and a blanket for