Highroad

by Jeanie P Johnson

  Grange just didn’t know how he would be able to stand by, knowing that the child Lavonia carried was most likely his, and not do anything about it? He had waited seven years, hoping to win her over, and now there was even less hope for him, then there had been before he became the Irishman.

  He would wait for her forever, though. What else could he do? But for now, he needed to give her space to get over the Irishman, and perhaps look his way in some distant future. After all he had waited seven years, what would a few more years matter, he tried to convince himself?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The sun’s golden fingers reached into the drawing room, creating streaks of light, as it filtered through the lace curtains, casting a pattern on the low oval table, placed before the settee of the Drawing room. Lavonia hovered over the sketches that Jock Lamont had scribbled out for her, while they lay on the table before them. He certainly seemed to know his trade, because everything he had sketched out pleased her.

  She lifted her brown eyes to the man before her. Jane had been right. He was extremely dashing, in a rugged laidback way. Dark hair, with blue eyes, a cleft in his chin, chiseled jaw line, and straight nose, resting above full masculine lips. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his muscles protruded below the material. He wore no tie or coat, and his shirt was unbuttoned enough for Lavonia to notice the dark chest hairs, peeking out through the opening. His eyes were focused on her, not his drawings.

  “I saw the end results of the Dewberry’s remodeling,” Lavonia murmured, “and I like all your sketches so far. The only thing left to do is to give the estimation to Mrs. Paddington, and choose the colors,” she gave Jock a smile.

  “Oh mon-Cherie, I am going to be delighted working closely with you. I hope your schedule is open, because there is much to go over, before I begin.”

  “My days are free, and I shall be here any time you wish to begin the task,” Lavonia informed him.

  “And I shall be at your beck and call while I work for you,” he responded.

  “Do you have the costs?” she asked.

  “Only for my service. The merchandise that needs to be purchased, the Madam of the house will have to pay for separately. When the time comes, I will take you shopping. It will take a better part of a day. Perhaps two, and we will have to go to London in order to purchase everything, since there is a better verity to choose from in London.

  “I have only been to London once,” Lavonia stated. “That was when I was a mere child. I would love to accompany you to London.”

  “And I will look forward to showing London to you, while we are there,” he assured her. “We can take the train.”

  “The train sounds exciting,” she smiled. She was so happy that she had been given this responsibility. Already it was lifting her spirits. “I will take the costs to my mother-in-law, and get us some train tickets. Is tomorrow morning to soon to leave?”

  “Non. I should look forward to it. I am at your disposal completely until the job is finished,” he smiled.

  “Then I shall see you tomorrow morning,” she told him, as she stood up, walking to the door with him.

  “I cannot wait,” he breathed, as he took her hand and placed a long meaningful kiss on it.

  As he was kissing her hand, the doorbell rang, and the butler, opened the door. Lavonia glanced over to see Grange standing there. “Good day, Mr. Lamont,” Lavonia said to Jock, and then, “What is it you want, Grange?” she asked.

  “I was hoping you would invite me in first,” he responded, looking from Mr. Lamont to Lavonia.

  “Very well, come in then,” she said impatiently.

  Jock went out of the door, as Grange came in, and Lavonia turned and headed back to the drawing room, sitting down on the settee, gazing up at Grange.

  “All right, you are in my house now Grange, so tell me what you are here for. I have a lot of things to do.”

  “I’m here because I will not take no for an answer. He told her. You turned me down once, but I shall not let you do it again. I am rather certain that child you carry is not Max’s child. It is most likely your highwayman’s child. However, if you refuse to marry me, I will claim the child to be mine. I will insist you were my lover, and the child is the result of it. Since I am willing to take on that responsibility, the Judge will order you to marry me.”

  “You would force me to marry you? But what ever for, Grange?”

  “For your own good,” he told her. “For my peace of mind.”

  “Is there something more you would like to tell me, Grange?” she asked, looking closely into his eyes.

  “You are going to hate me for telling you this, but I have made up my mind to come clean to you.”

  “About what?” she asked, knowing full well what he was about to tell her.

  “I knew the highwayman. I knew you were the other highwayman. I hired him to try and stop you from continuing your madness. Instead he became your lover. If that child belongs to him, it is only right that I father it for him, seeing as how I am the one who actually got him killed.”

  Lavonia started laughing. The gall of the man! One lie after another! Why was he so desperate to marry her all of a sudden?

  “What is so funny?” Grange asked.

  “You are!” she chuckled, trying to catch her breath. “You know you are lying to me!”

  “About what? That I shall force you to marry me?”

  “You are using any ploy you can to persuade me,” she accused.

  “I would rather persuade you, than force you,” he said truthfully.

  “You want to marry me because you think the child is yours. Your little charade backfired on you, and now you are getting a conscience.”

  “What do you mean, I think the child is mine?” He was starting to fear she knew more than she had indicated.

  “You know exactly what I mean, and you continue to live in your lie, Irish! You were never shot or killed, it was all a ploy to humiliate me however you could, and now the crowning humiliation is to force me to marry you, before ever admitting you were the Irishman!”

  “You said you loved the Irishman,” he whispered. “You said you would marry him,” he reminded her.

  “Only because I knew you were the Irishman, and refused to admit it, even when you thought the baby may be yours! You were despicable as the Irishman for forcing yourself on me, and you are despicable now, for trying to get me to marry you, so you can continue to make me suffer. You will never get over your grudge of me, because when I was young and silly, I turned down your offer. The child is your’s Grange, but I will never marry you. Not the person who deceived me the way you have and are continuing to do!” Lavonia glared at Grange with hatred in her eyes. “You may very well try and force me, the way Max did, but I will never submit to you again!”

  “I almost got killed because of you, Lavonia. My love of you led me to do things I never would have done, otherwise!” Grange opened his shirt and showed her the scar. “I took a bullet in order to keep you from taking one. It could have been you out on the moor that night. But you were so stubborn that even Irish could not persuade you to stop. What I did to you, was wrong, I know. But I have loved you all these years, and you would have nothing to do with me. It was the only way I was ever going to get to hold you, and love you. You seemed to enjoy my touch, but I see now you never loved the Irishman, any more than you loved me. Sorry to have darkened your door, love,” he muttered, and turned to leave.

  “I didn’t know you had really gotten shot,” Lavonia said, putting her hand on his arm.

  “Nothing can be changed now,” he whispered. “When you told me that you loved the Irishman, that you would have married him if he asked you, I thought you were telling the truth. You knew it was me, and yet you continued to make love to the Irishman. Why, Lavonia?”

  “It was entertaining, letting the Irishman think I enjoyed it, while you as Grange could never touch me,” she said purposefully. “You never loved me, Grange. It was the challenge th
at drove you. You were determined to break me someway, and you almost succeeded. The ink on your hands gave you away. As far as anyone knows, I am not with your child. The child I carry belongs to Max,” her voice broke.

  “I wish you luck, then, love,” he said in his Irish accent. “It is you who broke me though. You beat me at my own game, it seems. We are so much alike, you and I,” he smiled woefully. Then he opened the door, and left the room.

  Lavonia sank down on he settee, and put her face in her hands. He had said something about his love for her. He thought it was love, perhaps, but she had been right, all along. Eventually putting her down in his paper was not enough for him. He wanted her to fall in love with him, even if he had to deceive her into doing it. Well, he had succeeded, and it wasn’t her who beat him at his own game. They were both losers now.

  Lavonia met Jock at the door, despite the frown that the butler gave her. She handed him his train ticket, and he offered her his elbow. She was glad for the outing because it would distract her from thinking about Grange. “I thought that after we had finished shopping, we could take in dinner and a play. Would you like that?” Jock asked in his thick French accent. She realized how fake her accent had sounded, when she was presented with the real thing.

  “I would love that,” Lavonia told him, as he assisted her into the rented carriage.

  “I like the way you look,” Jock smiled. “You have mischief in your eyes.”

  “Do I?” she laughed.

  “Yes, and it is very intriguing.” He brought her gloved hand into his, and started pulling off her glove, a finger at a time. “I wish my lips to touch your skin, not merely your glove,” he said at her astonished look. And then he began kissing her fingers, one at a time. “Such lovely fingers,” he whispered.

  “Please Jock, I have retired from flirtations. I am a widow who is carrying a child.”

  “And a beautiful widow you are too. The child will probably be as lovely as you are, and just because a woman is with child, does not mean she cannot make love. To me it makes you all the more alluring.”

  “But you have come to be my designer, not my lover,” she complained.

  “The two can mix very well, if you would allow it. Nothing serious, of course, I am not the marrying kind, and you being a widow, makes it all the easier to accomplish, mon-amie.”

  “Jane warned me about you,” Lavonia smiled. “Did you try to seduce the Dewberry daughter?” she asked.

  “Oh, she is much too young for me, and is a virgin. I do not seduce virgins, mon amie. I can tell you are a woman of experience. It is a sense I have, you know.”

  “And our little affair would end when you finish the house?” She asked, toying with the idea.

  “I do believe it is going to take a very long time to finish your house,” he smiled. “When we get on the train, I will pay for a private compartment for the two of us, and give you a sample of what you can look forward to.” he offered.

  “You certainly are bold to suggest such an arrangement so soon into our acquaintance,” Lavonia murmured.

  “I don’t believe in wasting time. Time flies by too fast, you know.”

  She thought of how long Grange had waited, hoping that Lavonia would give into him someday. Perhaps the man was right, she thought.

  “We are at the train station,” she said, changing the subject.

  “So we are,” he chuckled, as he handed her down, and they both got on the train together. “There is the conductor,” he motioned, as he took his ticket out, and she also removed her ticket from her purse. “I will ask him for a private compartment.” He took her ticket and his, handing them to the conductor, and speaking to him in a low voice. The conductor nodded, and money was exchanged. “Right this way,” Jock, whispered in her ear, and pulled her into the adjoining car.

  When he opened the door for her, she felt a little timid. It had been over a month since she had been with the Irishman, and she realized her body craved what she had been missing, after Grange left. Jock, put his hand on her waist, encouraging her to enter, and then he closed the door, locked it, and pulled down the blind to the window of the door.

  “Just you and me, mon amie,” he smiled, as he lay his lips on her neck.

  “I….I don’t know if I should consent to this,” she faltered.

  “But you already have, by coming in with me,” he informed her, with a chuckle. “Do not be shy. It will be several hours before we get to London.” He turned her towards him, and ran his thumb slowly across her lips. “Such beautiful lips need to be kissed on a regular basis, etes-vous d’accord?” he whispered, as he leaned his head closer to hers.

  Lavonia took in her breath, and tried to steady herself. She had offered Herald her breasts, so why was she so unsure of herself? The Frenchman had started to consume her lips, in a tantalizing way, taking his time to build the kiss into something that caught at her stomach in that old familiar way. Slowly, he drew her down onto the seat, as he continued to kiss her, placing his hand over one breast, through the material of her dress.

  The kiss engulfed her, and she hadn’t noticed when his hand found it’s way under the low cut collar, to get a better sample of her breast, until she felt him teasing her skin with his fingers.

  Eventually his lips slid from her mouth to her neck, making its way to the place where his hand played at her, Lavonia, started to pull back, “Jock, I don’t think……”

  “Just don’t think at all,” Jock said, lifting his lips from her. “It is better if you just allow me to demonstrate my talents,” he chuckled, and started to push his hand up her leg until he found what he was looking for. “Lay back, and I will give you what is called the French Kiss,” he murmured, and then his head was under her skirt as well, attempting to perform the so called French Kiss.

  In some dark recess of Lavonia’s mind, she felt like she was betraying the Irishman. Grange, she had to admit to herself. Not the Irishman. It was Grange she was betraying. “Please stop,” she said, as she sat up. “I can’t do this with you. I cannot have a love affair with someone I don’t even know, only to have you leave in a few months, to go on to the next woman.”

  It was then that she realized she could never enjoy making love to anyone but the Irishman, but the only way she could ever do that, is if she consented to marrying Grange. Could she lower her pride enough to admit that he was the only man she ever wanted to be with? “I must get off this train,” she said, suddenly. “At the very next stop.”

  “But I don’t understand,” Jock said, wrinkling his brow. “We are to go shopping in London. Have I upset you in some way? Most women are pleased with how I treat them.”

  “You go shopping. Charge it to Mrs. Paddington, but I cannot go with you. I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

  *********************

  Lavonia stood in front of Grange’s front door, for the second time in her life. It took her a long time to actually lift her hand and tap the knocker against the wood. She could hear the sound echoing in the entrance hall. The sound thudded in her chest like her beating heart. She didn’t even know if Grange was home? He wasn’t at his office, and it was late in the day. It was way past dinner time. But she couldn’t wait until morning. She would lose her resolve by then. What ever she did, she would have to do right now, tonight, and then face what ever the consequences afforded.

  At last, the butler came to the door. “I would like to speak to Mr. Gordon,” Lavonia said in a small voice.

  “Mr. Gordon has retired for the night,” the butler informed her.

  “Tell him to un-retire,” Lavonia said in a determined voice. “If you wish, I will un-retire him for you.” She boldly stepped forward. “If you will direct me to his room.”

  “This is highly unconventional,” he told her. “Perhaps you should wait here.”

  “I think not,” she said with more determination. “I can’t wait for him to come to me. I….I might just end up leaving while I am waiting.”

&nbs
p; “I see,” the butler smiled. “You must be the young woman who has been breaking my master’s heart.”

  “The very one,” she smiled.

  “And are you going to finish him off now?” he questioned.

  “He may finish me off,” she responded.

  “I think not,” the butler laughed. “Very well. His is the second door on the right.”

  “Thank you,” Lavonia murmured and headed up the stairs before she could lose her nerve.

  She did not bother to knock. She opened the door and entered the room. The moon shining through the window landed on Grange’s face. He seemed to be sleeping soundly. Unhurriedly Lavonia began removing her clothes, letting them fall to the ground, until the pale light was shimmering off of her own skin. Once she had discarded them all, she approached the bed. Bravely, she leaned over and kissed Grange on the cheek. He stirred and slowly opened his eyes.

  “Move over, Irish,” she whispered. “I am in need of a lover tonight.”

  Grange suddenly sat up. “Lavonia? Lavonia! What in the……?” His eyes caught her naked body in the moonlight. “Lavonia,” he whispered, opening up his arms, and she fell into them.

  “Yes,” she said. “I have reconsidered. I will marry you.”

  “Why? He asked.”

  “Because I discovered that I don’t want anyone’s hands but yours touching me. So I have to marry you,” she murmured.

  “Is that the only reason?” he quarried.

  “You mean other than you making me fall in love with you?” she asked in return.

  “Did I?” he smiled.

  “Stop talking,” she whispered. “You are wasting time,” and then she was crawling under the covers with him, crushing herself against his hard muscular body, covering his mouth with hers, and drinking in her happiness, as his arms encircled her, and his mouth devoured her. Irish had been resurrected.