Gallant Rogue (Reluctant Heroes Book 3) Read Free Page A

girls running about were the descendants of the old druid priestess.
    Cherie stumbled a few feet from Chloe. She pushed herself up with her hands, looked down at her pale pink muslin gown, noting the green splotches from her knees. She shrugged and wiped her palms on the light fabric, adding to the streaks of green and brown.
    Chloe couldn’t help herself; she giggled at Cherie’s antics.
    The dark head of perfect ringlets turned to Chloe with a look of surprise. Cherie’s surprise turned to joy as she giggled, too, as if sharing a secret. Cherie was given a rare freedom. Her mama, the countess, was not one to expect her only daughter to remain immaculate with three brothers getting into all manner of mischief. Thus, Cherie had developed a devil-may-care attitude toward clothing and didn’t mind if she appeared before her parents in tatters.
    “Dis is for Nuncle Gar-rit.”  Angelica Rose, Lady Greystowe’s flame-tressed daughter, came up on the opposite side of Chloe, drawing her attention away from Cherie. “He like it? He like preddee lellow flower?”  The-four-year old held out a single bloom of some obscure weed. Angelica Rose had a speech impediment. Chloe learned to understand her as the family had been visiting for several weeks already.
    “Yes. Uncle Gareth will love it. Thank you, dearest.” Chloe took the flower from the girl and placed it on Gareth’s grave next to her own offering.
    Chubby little arms wound around Chloe’s neck. “I sorry, Thlo--ee. I sorry nuncle no more here. He in Summer-land wiv Granny Shee-wa. He wuvs oo. No cry, he say.” 
    Chloe made a squeaking noise as she struggled to contain the tears. She hugged the sweet little girl. They clung to each other for several moments, until the soft swishing of skirts heralded the approach of Lady Greystowe, the child’s mama.
    “Angelica, darling, don’t choke Aunt Chloe,” Lady Rose admonished in her soft Irish burr. “Goodness, you’ve hugged her nicely. Let go now.”
    Angelica Rose slowly unwound her pale alabaster arms from around Chloe’s neck and stepped back. She might only be four years old, but the expression in her eyes was ageless beyond measure. Chloe felt her sorrow lessen notably after Angelica’s endearing hug.
    “I hope she didn’t say anything to upset you?” Rose, Lady Greystowe, placed a light hand on Chloe’s shoulder as she stood behind her. “Angelica’s an intuitive. She reads the feelings and emotions of others, especially if she touches them. As she’s young, she doesn’t know enough to not speak her mind or simply blurt out what she sees.”
    “Oh, no,” Chloe demurred as she pushed herself up from the ground and brushed the bits of grass from her lavender silk gown. Elizabeth had urged her to start wearing colors again as a full year had passed since Gareth’s and Baby John’s deaths. It was easy for someone in Elizabeth’s position to suggest such a thing, when she herself had not lost a beloved spouse. 
    “Angelica is a sweet child. She told me Gareth loves me,” Chloe informed the child’s mother as tears welled up. “You are blessed, my lady. Such a lovely little girl, and she has the O’Flaherty gift of seeing, like her father.”
    “Yes,” Lady Greystowe said with some despair. “Makes it a challenge to discipline her. She can sense my regret at doing so and then feels twice as bad. She can sense the feelings of others and takes them onto herself, like a sponge. It worries me as life is so full of sorrow, I wonder that she won’t die of a broken heart before she’s ten years of age-- Oh --oh, do forgive me.”  The soft blue sapphire eyes darted to Baby John’s grave and back to Chloe with alarm. “I meant no disrespect, my dear.”
    "We should return to the house," Chloe countered. “The girls are hungry and my lady will worry if we are gone long.”
    Lady Greystowe placed a consoling hand on Chloe’s arm. “If you wish to stay a little longer I can take the girls to