by Wendy Stone
* * * *
Alyssa slept deeply for about an hour, waking with a start and wondering where she was. Then the familiar room came into view and she smiled, stretching her long body lazily. Except for the mornings, she felt wonderful; though she did tire easier than normal. But from what everyone had told her, this was to be expected while you were expecting.
As she was laying there, her hand softly caressing the small bulge just under her navel, a sudden fluttering startled her. It came again and she stared down at her stomach. Was that her baby? Was he moving? She waited, but the small movement didn’t return.
She hadn’t felt it with her hand. No, it had been inside, like the tiny beating of butterfly’s wings caught in a spider web. A sense of awe flooded her, a sense of understanding. She carried life inside of her, life that was just making itself known.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Alyssa felt a tear streak down her face. It wasn’t for herself, or for the baby that she carried, but for Jamie and all that he was to miss. She couldn’t help but wonder if the baby would look like him. And then she laughed.
“I don’t even know what your poppa looks like, little one,” she whispered.
That thought sent another tear down her cheek. This one she wiped away angrily. She would not cry for him, not again. She had Jason, her husband. He loved her with everything he was. He told her that over and over. But she still had been unable to tell him back. It was Jamie; it was his fault, for he told her that also and she had believed him. And now, was she just scared?
She rose from the bed, going to her open trunk. Pulling out her dressing gown, she slipped it over her shoulders and tied the sash loosely at her waist. She went to Jason’s desk, sitting on the chair and staring at his things scattered on the top. She picked up a tiny miniature, a woman’s face and shoulders, her hair elaborately coiled around her head, her shoulders bare. It was done on a small disk of ivory, the painting small and delicate.
Did she love him? She wondered to herself. She liked him, he was hard not to like with that engaging grin and irresistible manner. But did she love him?
Her thoughts ranged over the past few months, thinking of the things he had done; to her, for her, with her. She thought about nights spent blissfully exhausting each other in their bed or on the floor in front of the fire. His touch was exquisite, his kisses fiery and passionate. He touched her and she burned for him. She loved being with him. She loved hearing him speak and arguing with him when his ideals butted up against hers.
But did she love him? Closing her eyes, she set down the miniature and listened to her heart.
Jason found her like that, eyes closed, her hands folded across a miniature of one of his ancestors.
“Love? Are you all right? It isn’t the baby is it?” The questions flew from him as he hurried toward her.
“I’m fine,” Alyssa said, smiling at him when he dropped to his knees in front of her, his hand going out to touch the soft mound of her stomach. “I was just thinking.”
“Oh, a dangerous proposition indeed. Especially if it’s me you’re thinking about,” he quipped, leaning forward to press a kiss upon her lips.
“Cad,” she accused without any heat to her tone.
“Through and through,” he agreed without hesitation, going back for another taste of her luscious lips. “Do I dare ask what you were thinking of?”
“You, actually,” she said. “And the baby,” she finished a slight pause between her words. She didn’t often bring the baby up in conversation, worried that he might be upset hearing about another man’s child.
“Well, now, I’m not sure I like the idea of you being so deeply in thought over me, but I’ll ask anyway. What were you thinking?” His hands touched her, pulling her closer, as if he hated to be separated from her.
“I was in bed…” she began.
“A worthwhile place to be thinking of me, I am sure,” he grinned.
“Do you want to hear this or not?” she snipped at him.
Jason nodded, putting his hand to his lips to indicate he’d be silent.
“The baby moved, or at least, I think it did. It was such a strange feeling, a fluttering-- like incredibly tiny feet kicking.”
Jason’s eyes grew big and his hand dropped to her stomach, pressing against it gently. “Can you make him do it again, so that I might feel it?”
Alyssa laughed, earning her a dirty look from Jason. She put her hand to his cheek. “Oh, love, I can’t make this baby do anything right now.”
“But you felt it? Felt him?”
“I think so,” she said, smiling at the excitement in his voice. And then it struck her, like a quick blow. Why was she thinking about it so hard? How could there be any other answer to her question. “I also had an epiphany.”
“What’s that, Alyssa?” He didn’t look up, pulling at her shift so the fabric molded to her body, pressing his hand gently to her stomach. “Is he moving now?” he asked.
“No!” She grabbed his hands off of her stomach. “Now, will you listen to me? I’m beginning to feel like a brood mare.”
Jason chuckled, leaning forward and letting his lips linger against hers for a moment, feeling them cling so wonderfully. When he pulled away, her face was flushed and her hands had crept up and wrapped in the lapels of his jacket. “What was this epiphany, love?
“Hmm?” she said, “Oh, yes, sorry, someone is very good at distracting me.”
“The bounder, he should be keel-hauled. Now, tell me your thoughts.”
“They are simple ones, really.” Noticing a mischievous sparkle in his eyes at her words, she added a quick warning. “Don’t say it!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it love. I like having my own bed to sleep in.”
“Do you remember the day you told me you loved me?” She continued when he nodded, his eyes now serious as they stared into hers. “I couldn’t say it back then.”
“And now?”
“I love you, Jason,” she whispered the words first, then said them again, louder. “I love you.”
His grin was huge as he sprang to his feet, lifting her off the chair to spin her around. “Say it again,” he ordered.
“I love you, Jason. With all of my heart and soul, I love you.”
He let her feet slide down until she was standing and then his mouth captured hers. There was passion there, but there was also tenderness and a depth of emotion that could only come when one is loved completely. His hands roamed her body, caressing her gently before sliding into her hair to hold her mouth to his.
He changed the direction of the kiss, melding his mouth deeper to hers until she no longer knew where he began and she ended. His tongue was a fiery fury, his kisses drugging her senses until she could barely think of anything past the next sensation and taking her next breath.
When the knock came upon the door, neither heard it. It came again, louder, more insistent until Jason lifted his head, his eyes blazing. “What?!” he snarled at the closed door.
“A note was delivered, Your Grace. From Lady Alyssa’s father,” the footman said, the tone in his voice apologizing for the intrusion.
“You don’t move,” he told his wife with a tiny flip of his finger at her nose. “Keep my place for me.”
He opened the door to take the note, almost chuckling when he saw how pale the footman was. “We don’t wish to be interrupted again tonight,” he told the man. “Have cook prepare a meal and bring it to the door.” And then he slammed the door as punctuation.
“Well, just announce that you plan to ravish your wife this evening, Jason,” Alyssa said, her face blushing.
“As if they wouldn’t know anyway, Alyssa. You know how quickly news spreads through the servants.” He brought her the note, sitting upon the bed and pulling off his boots.
Alyssa read it quickly, smiling. “Father wishes us to come for dinner tomorrow night. It seems as if he missed me.”
“I missed you, too,” Jason said, putting a forlorn look on his face.
She smiled at him. “Good,” she said simply. She went to his desk once more, pulling open the myriad of drawers and rummaging around.
“What are you doing?” he asked, standing up and starting towards her.
“Looking for ink and paper, love. I want to answer father and tell him we’ll be there tomorrow night.” She smiled sweetly at him over her shoulder. Her hand reached into a small drawer and she picked up a square of black cloth. “You can have the footman deliver it, can’t you?” Her eyes dropped to the cloth in her hands.
“What is this?” she asked curiously, holding the square up, noting the wrinkles in some of the ends, the two slits cut into the fabric.
Her eyes snapped to Jason and then back to the cloth. They grew huge as recognition struck. Horror and disbelief exploded inside of her. “What is this, Jason?”
“I can explain,” he said too quickly. He tried to snatch the cloth away from her, but she pulled it back and out of his reach.
“I think you’d better start, Jason. Or should I call you Jamie?” Her tone was fierce and hot, but inside she felt cold, as if a demon of ice had grabbed her heart in a frozen claw.
“I didn’t want you to find out this way. I didn’t want you to find out at all, love. There was no reason for you to know…”
“No reason,” she said, interrupting him and rising to her feet. “No reason for me to know? I’ve spent the past four months knowing you, being wooed by you, courted and married. I bared my soul to you, telling you about my promiscuous behavior and that I was carrying another man’s child. And there was no reason for me to know?”
“Listen to me, Alyssa, please!” Jason begged as his worst fears came true. “I wanted to tell you that last night I came to you as Jamie. I tried to tell you, but there was so much pain in your eyes, I couldn’t. All I could do was hope that when we married, you’d forget there ever was a Jamie and let me love you and our child. I knew if you found out, I would lose you. I couldn’t let that happen. It would kill me to lose you.”
“I guess we’ll find out if it will!” Alyssa stalked by him, her fury running rampant. She couldn’t stay here. She just couldn’t. She had to get out, to get away from him. His arm brushed her sleeve as she passed and she turned, snapping out at him in her rage. “Do not touch me, ever again, do you understand?”
“Alyssa, please…”
“No!” she snarled, cutting him off. She shrugged out of her robe, grabbing a gown from her trunk and pulling it on, doing up as many buttons as she could without help. Hoping her hair would hide the rest but not really caring, she turned and glared at him. “I’m going to my father’s. I never want to see you again.”
“You can’t mean that, Alyssa,” he begged, shaking his head in denial of her words. “We’re married. We have a child on the way. You belong with me.”
She picked up the mask she had dropped, wadding it into a ball and flinging it in his face. “I quit being your wife the moment I found out you wore that mask, Jason. I hate you for what you’ve done. I hate you for how you’ve ruined my life. I hope to never, ever see you again.”
Jason felt his hopes crash and his anger rise. She would deny him his child? Deny him his wife? He’d be damned to hell first. He grabbed her arm when she passed him again, this time not dropping his hand when she turned on him. He caught the fist she swung at his face, wrapping his arms around her and holding her wrists in one of his hands behind her back.
“You are my wife. You will stay here at my side, until I decide otherwise. Do you understand?” He growled the rhetorical question, his mouth fastening on hers with a desperation and rage that she’d never felt from him before.
He bruised her lips with his kisses, narrowly avoiding the teeth that snapped at his tongue. Cursing, he pulled at her gown, the buttons slipping through their holes until it gaped in the front, his mouth and hand running over her like the fiend she had accused him of being. He heard her gasp, felt her struggles, but he was beyond caring. He wouldn’t let her go, he couldn’t.
Alyssa hated him. She felt her body respond to his mouth and his hand, to the urgency she could feel rising from him. But she denied that part of her and continued to struggle, unable to forget what he had done. With a curse of her own, she brought up her knee, striking him hard enough between the legs that he let her go and fell to his knees in front of her.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried, ignoring the tears streaking down her face. Without fixing her gown, paying no mind to how the skirt dragged down in the front because of the unbuttoned bodice, she hurried from the room.
Jason drew in one breath after another, waiting until the first blaring wave of nauseous pain flowed over him. He had spots in front of his eyes, and he wondered if she’d permanently injured him. He managed to stand after a few pain-filled seconds, taking the first hurtful step toward the door, not willing to let her go no matter what agony she put him through. Being without her would be worse.
Her scream was like a sharp knife cutting through the haze of his pain. Fear banished his discomfort and he tore at the door she’d slammed, ripping it open and running to the stairs. The sight that greeted him was one of horror so profound, he almost went back to his knees.
“Alyssa,” he whispered, forcing his feet to start moving. “Alyssa!” he shouted, flying down the stairs and dropping to her side.
Her body lay on the floor, head cocked to one side. A huge welted bump marked her forehead and her arm lay at an unnatural angle beneath her. With a shaking hand, he felt for her pulse.
Chapter Sixteen
Jason wore a path in the floor at the end of the bed while the doctor finished his exam. The doctor had tried his best to make him leave the room, promising to reveal all when he’d completed his examination of Alyssa, but Jason was having none of it.
It was his fault she was laying there, so still and pale except for the red welt that was quickly changing to black and blue upon her face. He was responsible for the fact that she had been injured. The guilt weighed him down, the panic and worry making him physically ill. If anything happened to her or the baby because of him, it would kill him.
“The baby,” he said suddenly, lifting his head and turning towards the bed. “My God, Doctor Wells, she is pregnant. The baby’s all right, isn’t he?”
Doctor Wells held his hand up, waving Jason back from the bed. “There’s been no bleeding that I can see. She has bumps and bruises and her arm is out of the socket. I shall have to put it back. If it weren’t for the contusion on her head, I would say Her Grace was an extraordinarily fortunate lady. But until she wakes, I can’t make any more of a determination. Such a conclusion may be premature.”
“Oh, God,” Jason whispered, sinking down on the small sofa that sat at the edge of the bed. “How long before she wakes?”
“It could be minutes or it could be a week, Your Grace. There is no way of knowing. Now, if you will send your housekeeper in here so that we may get Her Grace more comfortable and to help me with her arm, I would be most grateful.”
“I’ll help you,” Jason said, his tone brooking no argument, though the doctor tried.
“Your Grace, I would not subject you to such. Although she is unconscious, there is a great deal of pain involved. If she awakens during it…”
“I’m her husband and I’m staying here. Besides, you know I am a sportsman and have seen such injuries before. You might as well use me, for I am much stronger than my housekeeper.”
They worked together well, Jason following the doctors orders, lifting Alyssa gently while clean sheets were placed upon the bed by the housekeeper. He held her while her arm was jerked harshly back into place. A bandage was wrapped around it, taping her arm firmly to her breast to keep it from moving and causing her pain.
When she was in bed once more, her wounds dressed, a cold cloth across her brow, the doctor closed his black bag, handing Jason a small vial of white powder. “If she is in any kind of pain when she wakes, give her this. A pinch in a glass
of water is all that is necessary. I expect a summons when she awakes. If I do not hear from you, I shall return on the morrow to check her condition.” He bowed stiffly, and with almost a click of his heels, turned and left the room.
“See him out,” Jason said to his housekeeper before turning back to the slight figure that lay so still in their big bed.
He took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips as he stared at her quiet face. Her hair seemed so brilliant and fiery against her pale cheeks and the white of the sheets and pillow beneath her. It seemed almost wrong, that it should be such, alive and glinting with passionate flames while she lay so still and lifeless.
“Alyssa, my love. If you can hear me…please love, come back to me. Come back to me and give me the chance to make amends, to woo you back and give you reason to trust me again. Please God, Alyssa, even if you never want to see me again, please come back.” Jason didn’t bother to brush away the tear that ran down his cheek, not caring as he begged God with everything in him to let her come back.
* * * *
Lord Edward heard the news and was out the door instantly, making the ride to Jason’s townhouse in haste. He was barely off his horse when the door opened and the butler waved him in, showing him up the stairs to where his daughter lay, her husband seated on a chair beside her, his eyes upon her face.
He glanced up when Edward walked in, hearing the older man’s gasp at the sight of the bruise upon her face and the way her arm was bandaged.
“What happened?” Edward demanded, going to his daughter’s side and staring down at the man supposed to take care of her. “Why the devil did my daughter fall down the stairs?”
“We’d had a fight,” Jason said dully, barely glancing at the man as he spoke. “She was angry with me and she fell down the stairs.”