by Wendy Stone
“Hmm, it’s a lovely sight, a woman who rides as well as you do on a spirited mount,” a voice from behind her said.
Her pulse sped and she took a second to calm her smile before turning to glance at him. He was a handsome vision, fawn breeches tucked into knee-high riding boots, wearing a white shirt and a sky blue coat that matched the shade of his eyes. His hair was windswept and he was without a hat, perhaps due to the bandage that still wrapped his forehead. It gave him the look of a wounded hero and her heart sighed.
“Thank you, sir. You sit a horse well also, though I don’t think that is your normal mount,” she said, eyeing the gray gelding.
“No, my stallion pulled up lame, and I wished him to rest and not give in to the temptation that these hunts inspire. I borrowed this mount from your stable. I hope that is all right?”
“Of course, J…Jason,” she said, stumbling only slightly upon his name. “You may borrow what you need.”
“I…no, forget I spoke,” he said, looking at her with admiration apparent in his eyes.
“No, please,” she said, her curiosity teased.
“I was about to ask if I could borrow your heart, lovely lady. But then I realized that that would be a foolish request, for if I were to borrow it, you could ask for it back. I wish to own your heart and give you possession of my own, Alyssa,” he said drawing nearer until his legs brushed Vixen’s Boy’s side.
Alyssa stared up at him, her eyes huge. Then she burst out laughing. “A bit of faerie magic and a huge helping of blarney is what you have there, Jason. But it was very prettily said.”
“Oh,” he exclaimed, grabbing his chest with one hand and easily controlling his feisty mount with the other. “A direct thrust to my chest and into my heart. How shall I ever survive such a blow?”
“I expect the same way you deal with any woman with the intelligence to see through the thick layer of flattery you put upon your words, Jason.” But she had to chuckle at his antics. And inside, she had to admit that he was helping her put aside the hurt of what Jamie had said and done.
Winfred walked past, fifteen of his charges on leashes in front of him. They were well behaved now, save for the barking. But the excitement was contagious and Winfred called one of his helpers to take a few of the dogs, using whistles to keep them in line amid all the horses.
Soon, they caught the scent and set about baying. The signal was given and the hounds were loosed. Alyssa reined in Vixen’s Boy and turned him before giving him his head. He loved to follow the hounds, to race through the fields with his mistress upon his back.
Her hat went sailing and a laugh trailed behind her as the duke urged on his mount, trying to catch her. They soon lost the rest of the hunters as they trailed behind, Alyssa moving off the trail of the hounds after the fox and slipping onto a trail that led into a forest, Jason not far behind her.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said when he moved up next to her as she stopped her horse. “I love the chase, but when the hounds trap that poor animal, well, what happens next I don’t count as sport.” She gave a very ladylike shudder.
Jason slid from his horse, ducking under its head and lifting his hands up to Alyssa. She slid into them easily and he lifted her down, pulling her against him before her feet could reach the ground. Her hands went to his shoulders, sliding to his chest as he bent his head to hers, taking her lips in a kiss that had nothing to do with passion.
It was soft, almost friendly, as if to say hello, and thank you for being with me. He smiled at her as he lifted his head. Throwing a companionable arm around her, they walked further down the trail.
“What’s down here?” he asked curiously.
“A small stream flows through these woods. There is a place where it’s been dammed and it fills a little hollow every year. I usually come here when I can and go swimming during the summer when it gets hot.”
They talked of inconsequential things as they walked and finally reached the small pond. It was wide at this time of year, the water deepening until it would be just above her head. Alyssa felt the urge to do something crazy, but she could only imagine what the duke would think about her if she gave in and went for a swim.
Instead, she sat upon the bank, slipping off her half boots to wiggle her toes into the grass. Jason sat beside her, not saying much.
“Does your head hurt you?” Alyssa asked him suddenly.
“A bit,” he admitted reluctantly.
“Here,” she said, scooting until her back rested against the bark of a tree trunk. “Lay your head in my lap and rest. Since I am the cause of your wound, it is the least I can do to be your pillow.”
He did as she said, laying his head into her soft lap. His eyes roamed over her, even as her hand came to his hair, softly stroking the silken tendrils. He could hear the insects buzzing in the air around the clearing, smell the scent of the grass and Alyssa’s own unique fragrance. His eyes grew heavy and he closed them, enjoying the sound of the water rushing from the small stream into the pond and then flowing over the tiny dam in a pretty waterfall.
“Did you mean it when you said you wished to marry me?” she asked softly, wondering if he’d fallen asleep.
“Yes,” he said without hesitation, his eyes flashing open to stare at her. “I find myself thinking of you all the time, Alyssa. I wonder where you are, or what you’re thinking. I remember how we met and I smile when I shouldn’t. You are constantly on my mind. This has never happened to me before.”
“So I’ve become an obsession, and that’s a good reason to marry me?”
Jason laughed, he couldn’t help it. She said things no debutante would have the nerve or the confidence to say. She certainly didn’t giggle or prattle on about things like clothing or who danced with whom at some ball. And she made him laugh. “Well, if I were to profess my undying love and devotion for you, you probably wouldn’t believe me.”
“Yes, there is that,” she said, tipping her head to the side slightly. “Still, a girl could only hope to hear such words when a man offers marriage. Most would, you know, even if the feeling wasn’t there.”
“I can only use the excuse that I have too much respect for you as a person to use such blather in an attempt to sway your judgment.”
It was Alyssa’s turn to laugh now. “Nicely said, Jason. You’d have me believe you actually respect me, and care about what I thought. You do know, if you were to press your suit to my father, he’d probably accept and have us wed before the fortnight was out?” She jerked when he sat up suddenly, moving so that he faced her, his mouth but inches from hers.
“I do not wish to marry your father, Alyssa. So his wants and wishes matter little to me. It is you and I that will have to deal with each other and change our lives around. Not your father.” He lifted his hand, touching her cheek with the back of his hand, a gesture that seemed so familiar to her. “I do not wish an ordinary marriage of convenience where I shall bed you to attain an heir and then move on to a mistress or six.”
“Or six? I am impressed if you have that kind of stamina, Jason,” she quipped.
He chuckled as she meant him to, and then fisted his hand and tapped her gently upon the chin with it. “That wasn’t what you were supposed to get out of that sentence, vixen.”
“My father was married before he met my mother, did you know?” She continued when he shook his head. “It was arranged. His father and hers got together and made a deal almost before the children were born.”
“What happened?” he said, though he had little interest in her words. He was fascinated with the way she spoke, and the fact that she would open up to him, to Jason, but not to Jamie.
“They wed, though there was no love between them. And she became with child. The babe was born too soon and complications arose. The doctor, if you could call him such with his leeches and blood letting, had no clue how to stop the bleeding and she died. The babe was sickly, too young to be outside the womb and died also, a week later.”
�
�That is a sad tale. I had no idea.”
“But then a few years later, my father was on the road and he came across a crofter and his family. They had a daughter, a wild redheaded girl named Gabriella. My father took one look and fell in love. He went through hell with society and their laws and stipulations and high horses. But he married her anyway. She was my mother and two happier people I have never seen. My father tells me that I am just like her, just as wild and as untamed.” She sighed, reaching up to take his hand. “The reason I am telling you this, I do not wish a marriage of convenience or one made because we might ‘suit’. I want what that duke had with his wild lass.”
Alyssa stared down at her lap where she was playing with his fingers, afraid to see what was in his eyes.
He lifted her chin with his other hand, moving closer. Then his lips were on hers.
There was nothing friendly about this kiss. This one was heat and fire, light and wildness. His tongue slid between her parted lips, tangling against hers, twisting and playing until her breath came heavy and her hands came up to his neck. She felt the flames inside of her, flames that she thought only Jamie could light. But light them Jason did, almost too easily.
She moaned under the exquisite pressure of his mouth, squirmed as his hands traced patterns over the fabric of her riding habit. Her body pressed harder against his and she silently cursed the layers of fabric separating them. When his hand dropped to her ankle, she didn’t protest, nor when he slid it upward toward her shapely knee, raising her gown.
The silk of her stockings felt soft against his palm, the heat of her leg under it a wonderful contrast. He moved further, finding the soft flesh that was bare above the top of her stocking, stopping there to stroke lightly, fanning the flames of desire he was turning into an inferno.
He jerked himself away from her suddenly, his breath coming at a husky pant, his eyes heavy lidded with need and desire for her. “If that doesn’t count for something in the way of feelings, Alyssa, I do not know what will. I want you,” he moaned, his voice a rasp that sent a shiver of awareness through her.
It took a moment, just a tiny instant in the scheme of time for her to make her decision. “Then I guess we should marry soon, Jason. For I’ll not sleep with you until the vows are spoken to make it legal.”
But her heart hung heavy, for though he made her feel wild and untamed, an inferno of fiery need…he wasn’t Jamie.
Chapter Ten
The weeks had flown by since they announced their engagement the night after the hunt. Everyday they spent time together, either riding or attending one of numerous balls and teas and galas planned in their honor.
Everyone wanted to host something to celebrate the downfall of the unobtainable Duke, the man that no one had thought would fall to a debutante. But then again, Alyssa wasn’t a normal debutante.
They got to know each other, to enjoy each other’s company and to look forward to their time together. But despite all that time with Jason, Alyssa still thought of Jamie.
He hadn’t tried to see her again. And, though every night she locked her balcony doors, she found herself listening for the tread of his foot, for the click of the doorknob or a soft scratching that would herald his arrival. And every night, she felt the disappointment keenly, even as she tried to force herself to think otherwise.
Three weeks after the hunt, she roused from her bed, her body rebelling at the smell of the toast her maid brought to her. Trailing bedclothes behind her, she managed to make it to the basin on her dresser, her stomach heaving to empty its contents. The sickness seemed to take forever, the wretched spasms leaving her feeling weak and washed out. But once it was done, she felt better.
The next morning was the same, the heaving spasms, the terrible washed out feeling, like a rag being wrung out, and then she was better. It was on the third morning that she let herself know the truth, for her monthly time had not come since her time with Jamie. She laid in bed after sending her maid away, her hand cupped over her still flat stomach, cradling the tiny life that lay buried within her. She carried Jamie’s child.
* * * *
Jason sat upon his horse, staring up at the glass door that led into Alyssa’s room. Once again the mask was upon his face. He didn’t know which he wanted. What would be better, for her to open her door to him, to take him back to her bed, a place he desperately wanted to be? Or would it be better for that door to remain closed to him, to know that she wanted to be with him as Jason alone and that Jamie was no longer welcome?
He was a fool.
Playing this game was like playing with fire; someone would eventually be burned. He couldn’t bear it if it were Alyssa. The redheaded goddess had latched onto his heart and drawn it from his breast. It was hers now, to do with as she wished. But a small part of him, a small niggling and antsy part of him, had to know if she still wanted Jamie.
“Argh,” he growled, kicking his horse to get him moving. The approach was simple: standing in the saddle made the balcony an easy leap, and then he was at her door. He lifted the latch, surprised, pleased and disappointed that it was unlocked. He opened the door, waiting to allow his eyes to grow accustomed to the dark interior of the room, scanning the furnishings he’d memorized on his earlier jaunts.
She was sitting up in bed, her bedclothes pulled tightly to her neck, her eyes calm as they looked at him. “I’ve been waiting,” she said slowly, seeing him jerk at her words.
“For me, I hope, love. I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice husky.
“How I wish I could believe that,” she said, staring at him as he started toward her. “But I don’t. I can’t help but wonder how many other rooms you steal into, how many other women’s thighs you part so easily with your glib tongue.”
“Oh, it is only you, Alyssa. I have been with no one else since our last meeting. Other women pale beside your loveliness, their kisses taste like dust compared to your sweetness. They leave me cold and adrift, alone in the dark of the night, pining for you, for one more glimpse of your sleek form, one more tantalizing hint of your perfume. I can no longer lie to myself, Alyssa. I love you.”
She felt her heart leap and thunder in her breast at his words. “Then show me who you are.”
“I cannot, not yet, love. I want with all my heart for you to gaze upon the truth of who I am, but I am afraid.”
“What do you fear? Do you fear that I shall turn from you? Do you have some hideous scar or deforming tick that you hide behind that scarf? Or perhaps you are married, and have a brood of children and hide your identity such that I shall not know who to blame as the father of my own child?” She said the last slowly and succinctly, wanting him to know that she carried his seed inside of her, that it grew to life under her breast.
Jason felt his heart stop. It hitched in his breast as her words shattered round on him. He was to be a father. A slow smile grew upon his lips, a gladness in his heart that seemed to spread through him until he felt light enough to float around the room. He was going to be a father!
“You are glad than?” she asked him, seeing the smile in the shine of his teeth against the shadow he hid behind. “Do you notch some bedpost or perhaps a table leg to let you keep track of all the babes that you father?” she asked him, her voice grim.
He moved toward the bed, slowing when he saw the wariness in her eyes. “You are the one and only, love. I have no need for bedposts or table legs. I do have a need for you. I have missed you more than I thought possible to miss any one person.”
“I am to be married,” she said, using the engagement like a shield to ward off the emotions and feelings his voice and manner aroused in her. “In but one week’s time, I shall be a duchess, married to a fine, reputable man who is willing to wait to take what is rightfully his, wait until our marriage bed. I just pray that when he finds that someone else has been there before him, he will listen and understand my perfidy.”
“But…you would claim this child as his?”
“No, I could not
do such a treacherous act--though my heart fears that Jason will turn from me when he knows the truth. But it is not for me to take your child and claim him as Jason’s, for that child would be his heir and, blast your potent seed, most likely a boy.” A tear streaked down her cheek, quickly followed by another. She buried her face in her hands, letting them come as they would, only to lift her head as his weight made the mattress tilt.
“You will not touch me again!”
“Oh, love, it is only in caring that I wish to reach for you, to allow you to bury your face in my chest, to cry out your soul there. I wish to take you from here, to make you my own and claim the child as my own to all and sundry who wish to listen.” He touched her cheek gently, pushing a strand of hair over her ear and tucking it behind.
“You wish to marry me? To give our child a name that morally belongs to him?” she asked, her eyes shining.
“I…I cannot marry you.”
“Then it is another woman, a wife then, which keeps us from each other. Go! Go from me now, I do not wish to see you again.” She rolled from the bed, her face paling at the suddenness of her movements.
Jamie was up and moving around the bed, grabbing her in his arms and laying his hand across her lips. “Shh, love, before you bring down the house upon our heads. Let me explain,” he urged, feeling her breasts, heavy and unencumbered, against his chest. “Will you?” he said huskily, for the feel of her aroused his senses, making him think of things other than explanations.
Alyssa stood as if frozen, feeling him pressed up against her, the scent of him, male and arrogant, wafting through her senses. His skin was warm, the heat wonderful against her cold form. His arms were strong. She had longed for them these many empty nights as she sought so bitterly to forget him. He was here now, here where her dreams had placed him so many times before.