Yesterday's Roses

by Heather Cullman

  “Do you really think that it’s possible? My singing on the stage, I mean?”

  “With your beauty and talent, you’ll be the toast of two continents.” Upon delivering that vote of confidence, Hallie gave Penelope’s cheek a pat and her hand a squeeze, and then rose to her feet. “I’ll leave you to your rest now. If you need me for anything, I’ll be in the library going over the plans for the new infirmary.”

  Before she could move away from the bed, Penelope latched on to her arm. “I-I do need y-your help.” The girl bit her lower lip and turned a dull crimson. Fidgeting with the lace edging on the coverlet, she confessed, “I-It’s my m-monthly flow.”

  Hallie nodded solemnly and sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Lots of women have problems with their monthlies. What seems to be wrong?”

  “I hurt.” Penelope gingerly patted her lower abdomen. “Here. Low in my belly. My insides feel as if they’re falling out … and the muscles in my thighs ache. My back hurts too.” She turned on her side and patted her lower back. “Here.”

  “Is this the first time you’ve had this pain?” Hallie asked, going over the girl’s symptoms in her mind.

  “Oh, no. I’ve had it during my monthlies since they started five years ago.” She threaded a corner of the coverlet between her fingers, not meeting Hallie’s eyes. “It’s not always this bad, though.”

  “But it’s been this bad before?” prodded Hallie gently.

  “Sometimes better, sometimes worse. I told Dr. Barnes about it two years ago.” Penelope’s face turned a livid shade of purple. “He insisted on examining me i-intimately. It was awful. I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.”

  “I know,” Hallie commiserated. “All women are discomforted by such examinations. Especially the first time. What did Dr. Barnes tell you?”

  “That I was perfectly healthy and that I was imagining my pain.” Penelope’s features contorted into a mask of indignation. “But I’m not!” she protested. “I really do hurt!”

  “Of course you hurt, dear,” Hallie reassured her, mentally damning Dr. Barnes for so callously disregarding the girl’s pain. “And any doctor who would say such a thing is an insensitive clod. Lots of women have pain with their monthly flow, especially young ones. It’s just an unfortunate part of being a woman. And though I doubt that your discomfort is due to any sort of serious condition, I would like to examine you to make certain.”

  When Penelope flushed again at her suggestion, Hallie hastily clarified her intent. “I don’t need to make the same kind of examination as Dr. Barnes made. At least, not now. All I need to do is feel your belly and make sure that everything feels normal.”

  The girl chewed her lower lip with indecision, her gaze anxiously searching Hallie’s face. Apparently what she saw met with her approval, because she managed a wan smile and nodded.

  After Hallie had examined Penelope and had satisfied herself that the girl was normal, she set about to ease her pain.

  Normally she recommended a small draught of laudanum to ease menstrual discomfort. However, knowing the Parrish family’s understandable aversion to the drug, she decided it might be best to give Hop Yung’s “No-Mean Head, No-Pain” concoction another try. After all, it had certainly worked wonders on Jake after he had been shot.

  Once Hallie had coaxed Penelope to drink the Chinese herbal brew, to which a dollop of honey had been added to improve the taste, she placed a stoneware hot water bottle on the girl’s abdomen, and another at the small of her back, and then tucked her securely beneath her blankets. That task completed, she sat next to her patient and rubbed her shoulders until she slept.

  As Hallie tiptoed from the room, satisfied that Hop’s potion had worked its magic, she was stopped by Penelope’s drowsy voice. “Hallie?”

  “Yes, dear?” Hallie paused, doorknob in hand.

  “About my dream?”

  Hallie smiled. “You mean to sing on the stage?”

  “Well—” Penelope yawned. “—actually, I have two dreams.”

  “Good. Everyone needs lots of dreams. And when you’re feeling better, we’ll figure out how to make your second dream come true as well.”

  Penelope shifted on the bed and yawned again. “There’s nothing to figure out. My dream was to find a way to make Jake happy again. You’ve already done that. Thank you.”

  Chapter 24

  “What do you say, Jake?” asked Judge Eustace Dorner, taking another sip of champagne from his glass.

  No reply.

  Eustace chuckled to himself. The boy was gawking at his new bride again and hadn’t heard a word he’d said. Clearing his throat loudly, he prompted, “Jake?”

  Reluctantly, Jake shifted his gaze away from Hallie, who was being spun across the dance floor in a quadrille, and looked back at Judge Dorner. “Sorry, Eustace,” he murmured.

  “I was asking if you were the one responsible for thrashing Nick Connelly? The man’s pointing his finger in your direction and whining for justice.”

  “Er-yes.” Like a hummingbird to nectar, Jake’s gaze was drawn back to his wife. She looked beautiful tonight. Seductive. The lady’s maid he’d hired had done wonders with her hair, drawing it softly away from her face and arranging it down her back in a cascade of molten curls. And her gown …!

  For a moment Jake almost regretted selecting the ball gown she was wearing. Made of bronze tissue silk shot with burnished gold, the garment hugged every luscious curve of her body.

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. Curves which that young fool Michael Robbins was holding much too closely.

  “Can’t wait to get the little woman alone, eh?” Eustace commiserated. “I remember when I was first married to my Maudie, thought my manly anatomy would be permanently blue from wanting her all the time.”

  That observation got Jake’s attention, and he had the good grace to flush a dull red. Personally, his own manly parts felt as if they had gone beyond the blue stage and were now a shade painfully akin to deep purple. Acutely aware of his need, Jake let his gaze drift back to Hallie.

  This time she was staring back at him over her partner’s shoulder. As she trapped his hungry gaze with her sultry one, desire, intense and unbearably erotic, heated Jake’s loins. For one libidinous instant, he was tempted to spirit her away to a place of shadowy seclusion, toss up her skirts and bury his throbbing flesh into her welcoming folds.

  He almost groaned aloud at the thought. Knowing his passionate Mission Lady, she would probably enjoy such an impromptu rendezvous every bit as much as he would. At that moment he felt truly blessed. Not only was his wife beautiful, intelligent, and kind, but she possessed a rare sensuality that enslaved a man. Gratefully, Jake gave thanks for the precious gift of his Hallie.

  Hallie smiled at her husband, eagerly accepting the sensual promise in his eyes. Lord! She was hot and flushed all over, and in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room or her exertion from dancing. Distracted, she missed a step and trod on Michael’s toes.

  Heaven help her! She was burning up … feverish with the desire to feel every inch of Jake’s body pressed close to hers, flesh against bare flesh, his muscles hard against her yielding softness. She was delirious with her longing to hear him groan as he quivered beneath her caresses, to know the thrill of feminine victory as he cried out in his masculine surrender.

  Hungrily, she let her gaze slide down Jake’s body, picturing in her mind what lay beneath his superbly tailored suit. Even after four months of marriage, she still found it impossible to believe that this magnificent man was her husband. Proudly, she noted the way his dark formal attire emphasized his powerful physique and how, as usual, his manly beauty made the rest of the men present pale to insignificance. Obviously the other ladies had noticed him as well, for Hallie hadn’t missed the way their longing gazes followed him as he sauntered about the ballroom.

  E
specially that blasted Arabella Dunlap, she observed jealously. Jake hadn’t taken more than two steps away from Judge Dorner before the woman had waylaid him. The flirtatious baggage had been hanging on him all evening long, staring up at him with those dark, slanting eyes of hers and whispering intimately into his ear. It was maddening enough to make Hallie’s hands itch to rip out the woman’s hair.

  Just as Hallie was picturing Arabella bald and resembling a shaved rat, the music ended. Stuttering his thanks, the enamored Michael Robbins escorted Hallie from the dance floor.

  “Will you look at that?” hissed Miranda Wiley, inclining her stiffly coiffed blonde head toward Jake and Arabella, who stood against the opposite wall. They appeared to be embroiled in a very intimate sort of discussion.

  Lavinia Donahue glanced over at the pair with a sniff. “Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised. I knew it wouldn’t take Jake Parrish long to tire of his drab doctor wife. Rumor has it that the man’s been seen leaving Arabella’s house quite frequently of late. Maggie Kemp saw him there just yesterday, and she said that he looked as if he’d been indulging in some fairly—ah—strenuous activities.” She pursed her lips disapprovingly. “We all know that the only kind of exercise Arabella gets is the kind she can get in bed.”

  Standing unnoticed on the fringe of the group, Hallie overheard every word of gossip, and her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. Miserably, she glanced back over toward Jake and Arabella, but they had vanished.

  “Ignore the old cats, dear.” It was Davinia, who had also overheard the women’s prattle. Slipping her arm around Hallie’s waist, she gave her friend a reassuring hug.

  “My sister and her clan are malicious fools. They’re so jealous of your happiness that they’re all about to split a gut.”

  Hallie looked at her friend doubtfully. “Jake and Arabella did look to be having a rather … friendly discussion.”

  “Durned woman’s always throwing herself at the boy. He was probably just trying to fend her off in a gentlemanly fashion.”

  When Hallie didn’t look convinced, Davinia snorted, “Everyone knows that Jake’s had plenty of opportunities at Arabella over the years. If he’d wanted a piece of that tart, he’d have taken a bite long before now.” She gave her friend a naughty wink. “Guess he likes his sweets a mite fresher.”

  Hallie laughed feebly at that. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just that I love Jake so much. The thought of losing him scares me to death.”

  “Well, of course you love him. The man’s more perfect than a maiden’s dream. And anyone with half a brain can see that he’s equally besotted with you. Why, he hasn’t stopped staring at you all evening. Been looking at you like a bear at a hive of honey that’s just out of reach.”

  “Really?” Hallie stared at her friend hopefully.

  Davinia nodded. “Besides, do you think it’s fair to doubt Jake just because a pack of bored old biddies have nothing better to do than to cast aspersions on innocent folks? Hell and damnation, Hallie! I hadn’t taken you for such a blubber brain!”

  Hallie flushed, suddenly feeling very much the blubber brain. Davinia did have a point. Jake had never given her any reason to doubt him.

  “Have you ever known me to be wrong?”

  Hallie shook her head.

  “Of course not.” Davinia patted Hallie’s cheek fondly. “Never fear, your husband knows what a thoroughbred he’s married and he’s not about to take up with a nag like Arabella. Jake might be a bit mule-headed at times, as are all men, but he’s not stupid. Especially where women are concerned.”

  There was an amused chuckle from behind Hallie. “It’s nice to know that I’m not stupid, for all that I’m mule-headed,” Jake quipped, wrapping his arms around Hallie’s waist and drawing her back up against his chest. “I could feel my ears burning from clear across the room.”

  “As well you should, my boy,” scolded Davinia. “May I remind you that you’re a married man now and, as such, should take pains to avoid Arabella’s calf-eyed fawning? It’s causing talk.”

  Jake lightly traced the shape of Hallie’s jaw with his fingertip, enjoying the feel of her backside pressing against his groin. “Believe me, Davinia,” he purred. “I’m well aware that I’m a married man.” Subtly he rubbed the evidence of his desire against Hallie’s rounded buttocks. “Pleasantly so.”

  Hallie gave him a furtive thrust back and it was all Jake could do not to groan. Good God! You would’ve thought that his manhood would have learned to behave itself by now—or at least would’ve been too worn out from their constant lovemaking to plague him so. But he was finding his passion for his Mission Lady insatiable and even now, only several hours after loving her, he found himself aching to take her again.

  “As for Arabella,” he stifled a moan as Hallie moved against him again. “Perhaps if my beautiful wife wasn’t so busy flirting with all of her admirers and deigned to spare me a glance once in a while, Arabella wouldn’t feel so free to exercise her wiles.” As soon as the words were out, he regretted them, for he had been unable to keep the resentment from his voice.

  It was true. It was hard to stand on the sidelines knowing that he was unable to dance with his own wife. It pained him to watch while other men held his Hallie in their arms and brought a glow of pleasure to her face, pleasure which he was unable to share with her. Yet, he would never dream of denying her anything that made her smile and he was ashamed of his jealousy.

  “I’m sorry, love,” Hallie whispered. “You know that I wouldn’t neglect you for anything in the world. If I had my way, I’d stitch you to my side and never let you out of my sight.”

  “Of course you don’t neglect me. It’s just that I’m possessive where you’re concerned.” Bending close to her ear, he whispered, “And I might consider sitting still for those stitches. However, might I suggest sewing us more …”

  “Jake!” Hallie knew exactly what he was about to suggest and promptly turned as red as the Dorners’ ballroom curtains.

  Davinia let out an unladylike guffaw at the pair’s antics. Lucky Hallie, to have such a lusty husband! From the way the rascal was looking down at her, it was clear that her friend had nothing to fear from Arabella or from any other woman.

  And from the look on the Parrishes’ faces, it was obvious that they needed a few moments to themselves. “Excuse me,” she mumbled. “I need to speak to Marius.”

  Jake and Hallie nodded politely. As soon as Davinia had disappeared into the crowd, Jake pulled his wife down the hall and into the Dorners’ deserted library. Without ceremony, he claimed her lips with his. As usual, he was stunned by the intensity of her answering passion.

  God! What she did to him! The sweetness of her tongue as she teased the sensitive recesses of his mouth was enough to make him long to take her then and there, up against the wall. Jake groaned into her mouth. He could imagine how she would feel, his sex tightly sheathed in hers, her body held immobile between the hard surface of the wall and his own thrusting pelvis. He had never made love standing up, and the idea maddened him.

  “Poor, poor darling,” Hallie murmured, breaking off their kiss and boldly plunging her hand down the front of his trousers. Firmly, she grasped his rigid manhood. “It seems as if you’re infected with lust again.” She lightly caressed his length.

  “Hallie. Don’t—” he moaned, feeling as if he was about to explode at any moment. Damnation! She knew how it inflamed him when she stroked him like that. “Sweetheart …”

  Hallie let her hand slide to his firm masculine sac. “Hush now.” She kissed him into silence. “You know that I need to make an intimate examination if I’m to relieve your suffering.” She lightly prodded at the tender flesh cradled in her palm. “Oh, dear. It seems as if you’re badly in need of some of my care.”

  “Hallie!” His pelvis jerked against her hand in response. The woman was shameless … and he loved it. When Jak
e felt Hallie move lower to stroke the sensitive flesh behind his sac, he was sure he would lose control right then and there.

  So caught up were they in their impassioned tryst that they didn’t hear the door behind them swing open.

  “Aha! There you are!” It was Eustace and his wife, Maud. They were standing on the threshold, beaming fondly at the embracing couple. “We were wondering where our guests of honor were hiding. Davinia said she’d seen you headed in this direction.”

  Smothering a frustrated oath, Jake hauled Hallie against him, effectively disguising the fact that her hand was still trapped down his trousers.

  Maud moved into the room to peer at Hallie’s highly colored face. “Are you quite all right, dear? You look terribly flushed.” She glanced up at Jake. “Don’t you think she looks flushed?”

  “Very,” he agreed, studying his wife’s face with mock concern. “She was just complaining about feeling overly warm—hot, actually—and I—” He jumped as Hallie gave his sex a tweak that almost sent him over the edge.

  Crushing his errant wife against his chest, Jake mumbled. “Sorry. I thought the little woman was about to faint. As I was saying, Hallie’s a bit overheated and has expressed a need to retire early this evening.”

  Eustace let loose a snort of amusement. “Needs an evening in bed, eh? Come to think of it, you look a bit flushed yourself, my boy. You could probably use some bed rest as well.” He winked at his friend meaningfully.

  Jake grinned back over Hallie’s head.

  And Maud missed the whole point of the exchange. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up to feel Jake’s forehead. “I do hope you’re not coming down with the grippe. It has been going around, you know. Make sure you both take a spoonful of quinine.”

  As Hallie opened her mouth to reassure the woman of the soundness of their health, she was cut off by Jake’s reply.

  “We haven’t contracted anything that can’t be cured by an evening in bed.” His lips twisted roguishly. “My poor wife especially has been plagued by this ailment of late.”