Brambles and Thorns

by Jocelyn Kirk

  “Leave who where?” asked Elena. “What are you talking about?”

  He stared at her. “I’m talking about James Scott, of course.”

  Elena rose and faced him. “What on earth has James to do with your reason for not marrying me?”

  He walked across the room and stood near her, and lines of perplexity etched his handsome brow. “In the first place, I did not say I couldn’t marry you. But we may have to wait some time until I have the financial means to support a wife. If I hadn’t gone to sea with Andrew to find James and his crew, I wouldn’t have lost the Thistle. Both my boats are at the bottom of the sea and my livelihood with them!”

  “Your livelihood!” cried Elena, with astonishment shrilling her voice. “You are telling me you can’t marry me because of your livelihood?”

  Ben sank onto the settee she had recently vacated. “Of course,” he replied. “What on earth did you think I was talking about? I invested most of my inheritance in the ships and the rest went to saving Rosalie’s farm. My income from transporting freight was good enough to support a wife and children, and my sister also. But now everything is gone.”

  Elena was speechless. So he did not know the woman he loved was tainted by her birth! Good God! It was hopeless! Another barrier to their union!

  Ben was watching her. “Elena, what did you think I was talking about? You accepted that I couldn’t marry right now, but you mistook my reason. Can you explain that?”

  She paced slowly about the room, gathering her courage. “Yes,” she said finally, with her face turned away from him. “I can explain it. I thought you had somehow learned the truth about my birth.”

  He stared at her. “I think I know what you’re going to say. I’ve had my suspicions.”

  “Then you can imagine how it was for me when I learned…that Rosalie is my mother.”

  “And Andrew is your father?”

  “Yes.”

  He walked closer to her and looked steadily into her eyes. He put out a hand and brushed back a strand of yellow hair that had fallen from her chignon. She shivered. His slightest touch inflamed her, but now she would never know the thrill of being truly his.

  Ben put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her gently into his arms. “You didn’t think—you couldn’t possibly have thought it would have made any difference to me.”

  Elena couldn’t answer for she was weeping on his shoulder. He held her tightly until she quieted; then she became aware that he was kissing her. His lips touched her hair and the back of her neck. He gently pushed aside her bodice so he could kiss her shoulder. She quivered as his lips brushed her sensitive skin. If he stopped, she’d die.

  “I love you,” he murmured. “I promise you, I’ll find a means to support us. It won’t be long, my darling.”

  Elena could not speak for his lips were kissing their way down one side of her face. He shifted his position slightly, and a rod as hard as iron pressed against her belly. She shuddered, realizing his manhood was demanding their union.

  She pulled him down on the settee and throwing all caution away, began to respond to him, to kiss him back. He gasped as her flicking tongue touched his neck and her tender lips explored his face and ears. He shifted her slightly away so he could gently caress her breasts.

  “I want you so, Elena. I want you so.”

  “Then take me,” she whispered. “I can’t bear this any longer.”

  He gently pulled away from her and locked the office door. Without a word, he took her hand and led her behind the desk. He threw his coat on the floor and helped her to lie down.

  Ben lay on top of her and kissed her deeply. They entwined their bodies together, and his hands began roaming everywhere. When his probing fingers reached under her gown, she cried out with pleasure. She cared for nothing in the world, nothing at all, except the excruciating ecstasy his caresses were giving her.

  After the final gasps of her climax, he took her hand and placed it on his member. “Rub me there, my love,” he groaned. “Pleasure me that way, please. I want to save your virginity for our wedding night.”

  He showed her how to caress him, and she did so with eagerness. It excited her to give him such pleasure, and she felt an overwhelming exhilaration and triumph when his seed burst forth and he cried out in his own ecstasy.

  They lay still for a few minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms. Elena felt she could stay there forever, holding him. She wanted to never let him go.

  “My darling,” he whispered finally. “I’m very sorry to inconvenience you, but I absolutely can’t leave you today. I couldn’t bear it.”

  “I’ll die if you leave me,” she whispered.

  “You must marry me. My livelihood be damned; the school can support us for a short time. Marry me today, or tomorrow at latest.”

  “Mmmm…today,” she murmured.

  With an effort, he extricated himself from her arms and stood up. He straightened his garments and pulled Elena to her feet.

  “Make yourself ready,” he said, smiling into her eyes. “I’m going to walk home and get my carriage. We’ll drive to North Stonington and find that Reverend Wales person, who was so obliging as to marry Willa and the duke.”

  She smiled also. “Please don’t take long. If you’re two minutes past when I expect you to be here, I’ll humiliate myself by running down the road to fetch you!”

  He pulled her into his arms for a quick embrace and then hurried away. Elena quietly walked upstairs. After washing and dressing in her best day dress, she sought Mrs. Croaker.

  “Mrs. Croaker,” she said with a smile she could not suppress, “I must be away for a time. When my aunt arrives, pray tell her to take the gig back to town, and I’ll fetch it later.”

  Mrs. Croaker looked surprised but then knowing. She knew who had been in the office with Elena for an hour!

  “Miss,” she replied with a smile as wide as Elena’s, “I hope your time away answers all your hopes. The girls will be fine. I’ll set them to making apple tarts, for we have baskets of fruit in the root cellar that must be used.”

  Elena hugged her. “That will be wonderful! Tonight, we’ll have a party, and the girls can practice their dance steps.”

  Ben arrived. Elena ran from the house and jumped into the gig before he could alight and fetch her. She laughed at her own haste. Never in her life had she felt as sure of anything as she did about marrying Benjamin Garrick!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bramble

  The big gray wolf ambled about the farm, worrying the rabbits and ferreting out the interesting scents of deer, bear, and other creatures. It was early summer, and the ground and air were full of the amalgamated scents of the animals that had come forth from hibernation. The schoolgirls had departed a few days before, but the wolf could still pick up their faint scent and occasionally looked about, expecting to see them.

  Andrew Reed strolled nearby, enjoying the sunshine of a mild day. He was surprised that the wolf had remained at the farm when Rosalie went to town. Mrs. Croaker was learning to mind the shop, but Rosalie spent part of each day there.

  Andrew’s own business, which he had entered into six months ago with his son-in-law, Benjamin Garrick, and Ben’s friend James Scott, was thriving. Ben’s idea of using Andrew’s ship Maria Louisa to carry goods and passengers up and down the East Coast had worked well. Captain James Scott and crew stayed near the coastline in order to be able to run quickly into port if weather threatened, and this technique alleviated the fears of the women. Andrew had decided to purchase another ship during the summer, the largest three-master he could find, for he wanted to start running rum, sugar, and fruit from the Caribbean to the eastern American states.

  “But,” he commented to Bramble, “my dear wife is not happy about my going to sea!”

  Bramble wagged his tail, but he was distracted by his own thoughts. Some time ago, he had gone to the river with Rosalie and Andrew. Strange-looking houses floated on the water, and the two people he lov
ed nearly as much as Rosalie walked into one of those houses. He had waited impatiently for them to come out, but they did not, and the house floated away.

  Willa had also gone away on a floating house, and he thought Megan must have too because he could no longer find her scent at the other farm. These events saddened him. To be separated from part of his pack was not a good thing.

  Bramble halted and sniffed the air. He became aware Andrew was watching him, and Andrew made the noises that humans make. Bramble caught the word “Rosalie” asked in a questioning tone.

  Following the scent, Bramble ran around the house and raced up the lane to meet Rosalie’s gig. The horse flicked his ears and side-stepped, and Bramble moved around him to send him the message that he was not prey.

  Rosalie pulled up and jumped from the gig to greet him. She made human noises, and among the sounds were words he knew—“Bramble, Elena, Megan, Willa.”

  In a few minutes, they were all in the parlor together. Rosalie pulled forth some sheets of paper and began to look at the sheets while making noises at Andrew. Bramble could not understand what these noises meant, but he liked to hear Rosalie’s voice. The sound lulled him, and he fell asleep at her feet.

  “Imagine how strange,” Rosalie said to her husband, “to receive a letter from each of the dear girls on the same day!”

  “Let us hear what they have to say,” said Andrew.

  “I shall save Elena’s for last. Here’s Megan’s letter from New York:

  My dear Mrs. Reed,

  I’m not quite used to your new name yet. My pen still wants to write “Miss Murdoch,” but I have now got it under control!

  Thank you for your kind invitation to spend the summer with you on the farm. I can’t comply with your request to spend three months with you (as much as I’d like to!), but I can come for the entire month of August, if that is convenient.

  My work here is going well. Our latest gathering consisted of so many dozens of women I could not count them. Among them, I happened to meet two sisters, Susan and Mary Anthony. Although still very young, they are passionate about suffrage, as well as the abolition movement. I feel certain we will see them again.

  We marched down Fifth Avenue with our banners proclaiming our demand to be allowed to vote. Some unpleasant persons jeered at us, but others applauded, and some men and boys joined us!

  I had a letter from Ben last week. It was brief, of course, but it had an unmistakable tone of happiness. He says he is delighted with the observatory at Oxford and of course is happy to be with Drs. Soames and Garson again. But I read between the lines and must opine that it is his wife who is making his life so joyful!

  The Maria Louisa docked in New York a few days ago, and Captain James Scott called on us. I think he was surprised to see how simply we live. My mother, as you know, is the only woman permitted to teach at Columbia College, and Captain Scott seemed quite in awe of her. He is a good and kind man, and I hope he’ll visit us again.

  The New York newspapers carried a very amusing article yesterday about the Duchess of Simsbury. It seems she has shocked London society by refusing to wear a corset (why on earth would Willa—or any woman—need a corset?). But because she is a duchess, other women followed her lead, and now, according to the reporter who wrote the story, half of the London ton is going about town “jiggling”!

  That is all my news for now, dear Mrs. Reed. Please extend my greetings and best wishes to your husband. I will see both of you soon.

  Your affectionate friend,

  Megan Garrick

  “Well!” said Andrew. “One wonders how long James will have to court that young lady before she says yes!”

  “My dear, she was quite deeply in love with Reverend Ries. As you and I both know so well, one does not recover quickly from such a devotion of the heart.”

  “Very true, but Edward Ries lost no time in replacing her. He seems quite happy with his new wife.”

  “Yes, Miss Florence Pratt was a better choice for him.”

  Rosalie opened Willa’s letter, and Andrew settled back in his wing chair.

  Dear Miss Murdoch, I mean Mrs. Reed,

  I’m happy to tell you that the duke wants to return to Mystic in August. He says he’s going to build us a house overlooking the river. I’m quite homesick and will be glad to have tea and toast in your cozy parlor instead of scones and muffins in some great house here, of which there seems to be very many and all belonging to my husband’s family members and so must be visited!

  Every time one of the servants says “Your Grace,” it takes me several seconds to realize I’m the person addressed!

  We spent a few weeks at Lionel’s country seat (as they call it here). I met his mother, the Dowager Duchess of Simsbury. I was surprised to find she was quite nice, not snobby and horsy like Lionel’s sister Francine. She said she was glad Lionel had found a down-to-earth American woman to marry, and she hoped I’d soon have a son to inherit the title. Can you credit that, Miss Murdoch, I mean Mrs. Reed? My son, if I bear one, will be the Duke of Simsbury someday!

  Elena and Ben are staying in Lionel’s London townhouse with us, as Elena no doubt wrote you. I have an allowance of money for shopping that is enough to feed the entire village of Mystic for a week! I want to spend some of it on gifts for Elena, but she won’t hear of it. She says she’s content without fancy dresses and trifles.

  How strange life is! Now I’m a duchess and wear pretty clothes, but I’m still Willa and devoted to my dear friends, you of course being chief among them.

  My regards to your very handsome and brave husband. Lionel sends best wishes and all that to you and says he hopes to talk business with Captain Reed when we return. I don’t know what he means by that, but I’m sure it involves making a lot of money. My husband does love money…or maybe not money so much as the amusement of finding ways to make it without actually working!

  I miss the dear wolf, Bramble! How sad he looked when Lionel and I boarded ship to sail to England. I hope he’s become great friends with Captain Reed so he does not miss Elena and Ben and me too much.

  Well, I must leave off. Lionel calls me to seal my letter for he’s going to the harbor to get it on board a ship that’s sailing directly to New York.

  My best love,

  Willa

  By this time, Rosalie and Andrew were both giggling merrily, and Rosalie could hardly read the last line for laughing. “Willa as a duchess!” exclaimed Rosalie when she could speak. “One can’t imagine it! She’ll turn London society upside down!”

  “My dear Miss Murdoch…I mean Mrs. Reed,” laughed Andrew, “I wonder what the duke has in store for me. He’ll make me wealthy against my will!”

  Rosalie abruptly kissed her husband, and for a few minutes, the letters were forgotten. When she managed to squirm from his embrace, she opened Elena’s letter. Bramble was awake again, for he always watched carefully when Andrew wrapped his arms about Rosalie. As long as he could not detect a hint of fear in Rosalie’s scent, he would allow the situation.

  Andrew made himself comfortable in his wing chair and prepared to hear his daughter’s news.

  My dearest Mother and Father,

  It has been two weeks since I’ve written you, an inexcusable delay, but the duke and his duchess have dragged us about London unmercifully. I have met so many baronets and earls and their ladies that I’m quite fatigued, and Ben says he’s heartily weary of “bowing and scraping.”

  However, I’m not complaining. Willa’s kindness to us has been extraordinary, and her husband’s also.

  You will be amazed to hear, by chance, I encountered an old friend from New York—Prudence Carville, now Mrs. Wendell Prudie. (Yes, the name is quite funny!) We were very happy to see each other and spent a considerable amount of time together before the Prudies sailed back to New York. Prudence is very wealthy and seems content, but I would not call her happy in the way I am. She married for wealth and position, not love, and when I consider I might have done the sam
e, I shiver.

  I must confess to you, as much as I miss both of you, the face I see in my daydreams of home is Bramble’s. I’m sure he’s sad to have us gone. He has no Elena to feed him too much cake and no Ben to rub his tummy. Father, you must make amends for us and give him a good scratch every day!

  Drs. Garson and Soames are once again trying to prevail on Ben to stay at Oxford for another term or two, but he says he will not. He’s anxious to return home and begin some sort of business project that you, Father, have suggested. He gave me vague hints of it but would not be explicit, so that tells me everything I need to know—it involves some danger. I told Willa, I mean the duchess, about it, and she shrugged and said, “Miss Bellwood, I mean Elena, I mean Mrs. Garrick, men will be men. They thrive on danger.” I believe she is wise, and I must heed her words and try not to tie Ben to my side.

  By the time this letter reaches you, it will be only a few short months before we’re home. Pray tell Bramble so. I send my love to all of you, and Ben’s also.

  Your loving daughter,

  Elena

  Rosalie wiped away a tear. How she missed Elena! Then she realized two pairs of eyes were watching her. She turned to her husband and said, “How wonderful, she’ll soon be home.”

  “Aye,” he replied, trying to hide his own tears.

  Rosalie sat on the floor next to Bramble. She took his head in her hands. “Elena and Ben will soon be home, my dear wolf, and Willa and Megan too.”

  Bramble searched her face for the meaning behind the sounds. Rosalie’s expression and tone of voice and certain familiar words told him what he needed to know: his pack would soon be whole again.

  The great wolf placed his head in Rosalie’s lap and sighed. All was well, and he was content.

  A word about the author…

  Jocelyn’s fascination with life in the 1800s began when she was a teenager and started reading historical novels. She was influenced by Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, and Winston Graham’s Poldark series.