Fortified with a deep breath, she finished her walk to Thane’s side. She kept her gaze demurely averted as Weston placed her hand on Thane’s arm before taking a seat beside his wife in the front pew, next to Lily and Jack.
Thane glanced down at Jemma’s delicate hand resting on his arm and noticed the slight tremble in her fingers.
As she floated down the aisle in a gown that made her appear regal and elegant, the sight of her made his mouth go dry while his heart thumped in a rapid beat. He could easily picture her as a princess at court with the proud way she held her head and carried herself.
No matter how much he tried to convince himself it was of no importance, his bride was a beautiful woman. One he found himself attracted to, despite the fact she tested his patience and often left him perturbed.
Purposely focusing his attention back on the pastor, the man soon asked for the ring and Thane removed it from his pocket. Sliding it on Jemma’s finger through the slit in her glove, he repeated his vows in a strong, determined voice.
He listened as Jemma recited her vows, her tone steady although her hand trembled in his. When she settled her copper gaze on his face, he gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. Mindful of the fear mingling with apprehension in her eyes, he wondered what upset her most — marrying someone she didn’t particularly like, leaving behind her home, or surrendering her independence to a man.
“You may kiss your bride.” The pastor grinned at him over his spectacles. Thane thought he saw the man wink and smiled back at him.
“With pleasure,” Thane whispered, lifting the filmy veil from Jemma’s face and lowering his head so his lips were close to her ear. “I don’t know how you English seal your vows, but I intend to do a good job of it.”
Jemma’s eyes widened at his comment, but she didn’t have an opportunity to move away from him. As he wrapped his arms around her impossibly tiny waist, he drew her closer and pressed his mouth to hers, gently at first, then with a hungry ardor that took even him by surprise.
Slowly raising his head, he took in her flushed cheeks and the fire burning in her eyes. For a moment, he regretted his decision the marriage would be in name only. From her reaction to his kiss, he thought there might be one area of married life in which they’d be completely compatible.
Abruptly pulling his thoughts back in line, he placed a hand to the small of her back and walked her down the aisle amid cheers from the guests in the packed church. Although Jemma assured him most people would be too busy to attend a ceremony on a Monday afternoon, it appeared her status as a well-loved member of the church and community drew a large crowd.
Ushered into a coach, they were driven to Charles and Catherine’s stately home. Upon reaching the manor, the butler escorted them into the library where a photographer had a camera set up, ready to capture their images.
“Oh, this is a lovely surprise.” Jemma said as the man positioned Thane in a chair and had her stand beside it.
Thane remained quiet as the man fussed with the abominable top hat Weston demanded he wear. Beyond endurance, Thane yanked it off his head and tossed it aside, glaring at the photographer.
“I think the gentleman is ready. Shall I adjust your skirt, madam?”
Jemma turned to fluff her train and accepted his assistance in draping it artfully for the photograph.
Satisfied with their positions, the man prepared to take the photo. Thane glanced over at the two feet of space separating him and his new bride. “Just a moment,” he said, wrapping a hand around Jemma’s waist and drawing her close against the side of the chair. Her hands settled on his shoulder and the photographer took the picture before she could pull away.
“Please, stay perfectly still and I’ll take another.”
Disturbed and simultaneously thrilled by Thane’s familiarity with her person as his hand rested around her waist, Jemma stood motionless.
The photographer prepared to take a third photograph. “Would you care to smile for this photograph? You are just wed, after all.”
While the photographer prepared to take another photo, Thane whispered a comment to Jemma about the photographer resembling a bowlegged monkey, with his overly long arms and protruding lips. She found his words completely inappropriate, but entirely funny.
Plagued by a desire to laugh, she smiled in amusement while Thane looked at her with a smirk on his face as the photographer took the photo.
By then, Jack and Lily appeared and Jemma insisted they all pose together for a photograph, then she had a photo taken that included Charles and Catherine, Mr. and Mrs. Weston, and Mr. and Mrs. Greenfield.
Once they finished with the photographs, Thane took the children with him while Catherine ushered Jemma upstairs to change.
As Catherine helped her out of her wedding dress and into an elaborate peach-colored gown accented with brocade roses and airy lace trim, Jemma thanked her for providing the photographer.
“Thane made arrangements for that, Jem. He asked if I thought it would be a good idea, and I knew how much it would mean to you to have photos. He’s the one you need to thank. Thane asked him to bring his equipment to make prints of the photos tonight and we’ll each have copies. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Surprised by Thane’s kindness and generosity, Jemma didn’t know what to think. The more she discovered about Thane Jordan, the less confident she felt around him.
“I know you think he’s a crude and arrogant beast, but mercy, Jem. He looks quite acceptable in a fine suit with a haircut and a shave. Don’t you agree?”
He appeared far beyond acceptable and much more along the lines of utterly spellbinding. However, Jemma kept her opinion of how appealing she found her husband to herself.
“I suppose he looks suitable.”
Catherine stepped in front of her and took her by the shoulders, giving her a teasing shake. “Could you not see through your veil, Jem? Was it clouding your vision?”
Jemma laughed and shook her head. “Of course, not.”
Catherine gave her another pointed stare and Jemma released a sigh. “I will concede that despite being a brute, he’s quite a handsome one. I thought he appeared dashing and debonair.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Catherine teased, adjusting the short train on Jemma’s gown. “Now, let’s join your party.”
A few hours later, after they’d eaten a delicious meal, those attending the celebration gathered in the ballroom. Uncertain if Thane possessed any dancing skills, Jemma started to look around for him. Before she took a step, she breathed in his familiar scent as his warmth enveloped her.
“I suppose it’s expected for the bride and groom to begin the dancing,” Thane said quietly as he bent near her ear.
“Yes, that’s correct. Do you know how to waltz?” she asked, turning to gaze at him.
With a smirk, he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. “You’re about to find out.”
Surprised by his agility as he waltzed her flawlessly across the floor, Jemma relaxed a little. So far, Thane had filled her day with unexpected, yet pleasant moments. If their marriage proved as harmonious as this day had been, maybe she’d been dreading it without reason. As she cast a subtle glance at the attractive man who held her in his arms, a tingle of excitement raced through her. She was his bride, at least in name.
While they danced, Thane rubbed his fingers along the pale skin of her arm, exposed by the short sleeve of her dress. He knew it would bother her, but couldn’t seem to help himself.
He wondered where she and Catherine disappeared after the photographs. He’d glanced up as she made her way down the stairs in a beautiful evening gown the same shade as the peaches he used to snitch off their neighbor’s tree when he was a boy. The taste of her lips was every bit as sweet. Now that he’d had a sample, he wanted more and pondered how soft her skin might feel to his callused hands.
A compulsion to reach out and touch her skin worried him all through dinner. As they danced, the desire to rub his fin
gers down the expanse of her arm left him distracted. Finally surrendering to the urge, her skin felt as soft and smooth as he imagined, only warmer.
When he turned his gaze to her face, warning sparks shot from her eyes, although she continued smiling. Witness to any number of her smiles during the last few weeks, he recognized this one as a smile letting him know he tread perilously close to invoking her wrath.
It was not the time or place to provoke her, so he tipped his head slightly and led her in another dance.
Once the guests began to disperse, the newly married couple made their way to the foyer where Jemma and Catherine engaged in a series of tear-filled hugs with promises to write and stay in touch. Thane shook Charles’ hand and thanked him for his hospitality and help, inviting him and Catherine to visit his ranch, if they ever found themselves venturing to America.
“We might just take you up on that, ol’ chap, and see what all the fuss over the Wild West is about.”
Thane grinned and slapped him on the back. “You do that. I’ll make sure you get the full western experience, complete with branding cattle and riding broncs.”
Greenfield and Cook took Lily and Jack to the cottage, tucking them into bed after giving them a few minutes to enjoy the ball. The devoted servants would close up the house before moving on to their next position. Thane made sure they received adequate compensation for their years of dedicated work. He also extended an invitation for them to come to America if they ever tired of the English weather.
Weston and his wife, Margaret, who were also staying at the cottage, departed earlier in the evening, leaving Jemma and Thane the opportunity to have a private moment or two on their ride home together.
After settling the top hat on his head at a cocky angle, Thane walked Jemma out to the waiting coach and helped her inside.
He sprawled on the seat across from her, studying her flushed cheeks and the tense set of her shoulders.
“You can relax, Lady Jemma. I’m not planning to ravage you.”
“Good heavens!” Her glance went from the window of the coach to his face. His mocking grin caused her to shake her head. She didn’t know how he accomplished it, but he seemed to grow more handsome as the evening wore on. The hat, set at a rakish tilt on his head, made him appear even more charming than he had before.
It was a pity she knew it was all a façade. Beneath his fine suit and natty hat lurked a man bent on teasing her without mercy and stirring her temper at every opportunity.
As she recalled the kiss he’d given her to seal their wedding vows, she felt her cheeks flush. At least the gathering darkness kept him from seeing the spots of telltale pink.
She’d been kissed a few times as a much younger girl, but nothing prepared her for the sensations created by the touch of Thane’s mouth to hers. Just thinking of the exchange made her lips tingle with the desire to experience his kiss again.
Harshly berating herself for her ridiculous, romantic notions, relief flowed over her when the coach stopped in front of the cottage. Thane stepped out then reached in a hand to help her down.
They strolled up the walk together and she started to go in the door, but Thane put a hand to her arm, stopping her.
“For the sake of tradition,” he said, then swept her into his arms and carried her inside.
Nearly undone by the feel of his strong arms carrying her, his eyes gazing into hers with warmth, something she couldn’t quite describe drew her into the moment.
Inside the foyer, Thane set her on her feet and closed the door.
Befuddled and overcome by the experiences of the day, Jemma decided she needed to go to bed before she said or did something she’d later regret.
She started up the stairs, then stopped and looked back at him. “Thank you for today, Mr. Jordan. I appreciate all you did to make our wedding a happy memory.”
“You’re welcome, Lady Jemma.” Thane removed his hat and bowed to her with a flourish. “Since we’re married, though, I’d prefer you call me Thane.”
“Very well, Thane. Thank you, again, and good night.”
Jemma hastened up the steps to her room, changed into her nightgown and took down her hair. After pulling on a wrapper, she hurried down the hall to check on the children. She stopped by Jack’s room and found the boy spread across his bed with his covers half off, one arm flung above his head.
He looked so like his father and uncle.
Jemma righted his covers, tucking them in around him and gazed at him a moment, hoping Henry and Jane would be pleased that the children would be in the care of their only two living relatives.
After she ran light fingers through the boy’s hair, brushing it away from his face, she kissed his forehead and quietly left the room.
As she stepped into the hall, she heard a deep, masculine voice and followed it to Lily’s door. A peek inside the room revealed Thane rocking the child in the chair by the window.
“Yes, Lily, you looked just like a fairy princess today in your pretty dress. Did you have a good time?”
“Oh, yes, Uncle Thane. It was the bestest day. Did you see me dance, Uncle Thane? I danced and danced.”
Thane chuckled. “I did see you dance, honey. Do you like to dance?”
“Yes. I’m the bestest dancer and I sing, too. Want to hear me sing?”
“Maybe tomorrow. Right now, it’s past your bedtime. Don’t you think you ought to go to sleep?”
“I’m too excited to sleep,” Lily said, then yawned as Thane continued to rock her slowly back and forth in the chair. “Did you see Auntie Jemma? She was so pretty in her gown.”
“She is lovely,” Thane agreed. “Your aunt is a very beautiful woman and I’m sure you’ll grow up to look like her.”
“Oh, goodie. I want to grow up like Auntie Jemma and marry a pretty boy like you.”
Jemma could see Thane’s smile in the light of the lamp sitting on a nearby table. “You don’t call boys pretty, Lily. You should call them handsome.”
“Then you’re the most handsome boy in the world. My papa was handsome. You won’t leave me like papa, will you?”
Thane held her a little tighter and kissed the top of her head. “No, sweetheart. I won’t leave you.”
Lily’s voice grew sleepier and she nestled closer against Thane. “Are you and Auntie Jemma my papa and mummy now?”
“I suppose so, Lily. Your aunt and I promise to take good care of you. Now close your eyes and go to sleep. We have a big adventure awaiting us tomorrow.”
“Okay, Uncle Thane. I love you.”
Jemma watched as Thane carried their niece to her bed and tucked her in, gently brushing the curls away from her face before pressing a soft kiss to her tiny cheek. “I love you too, honey. Sweet dreams.”
Thane blew out the light and backed out of the room, almost bumping into Jemma as she lingered in the hall, brushing at the tears on her cheeks.
He pulled Lily’s door mostly closed then gripped Jemma’s arms in his hands, looking into her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Jemma said, trying to swallow back her tears. She knew Thane cared for Jack and Lily, but his tender attention to the little girl touched something in her heart.
All the excitement of the day made her weepy, or so she told herself as she lifted moist eyes to Thane. “Thank you for seeing to Lily. She sometimes has trouble falling asleep.”
“I didn’t mind. She’s a sweet little thing when she isn’t throwing a tantrum or demanding attention.”
“Welcome to the world of a three-year-old child.” Jemma grinned as Thane released his grip and walked with her down the hall toward her room. “Jack was the same way at her age, but by the time he was four, he settled down quite a bit.”
“I have a feeling Lily won’t be as quiet or solemn as Jack.”
Jemma nodded. “I agree with your assessment. She’s a spirited little thing full of grand ideas and a wild imagination.”
Thane leaned against her doorframe as she stepped in
side her bedroom. “I bet you were a lot like her as a child.”
“Possibly, but I refuse to admit anything.”
She started to close her door, but Thane held out a hand, stopping its progress. “Thank you.”
Uncertain what she could have done to earn his thanks, she glanced up at him and studied his face, searching for a clue. She’d more or less been a thorn in his side since the day he set foot in the cottage. “For what?”
“For marrying me. I think we’ll do fine.” He bent down and pressed a brief kiss to her cheek then walked off in the direction of his room.
Chapter Seven
The sound of Thane calling Jemma’s name echoed through the house as she helped Cook pack a basket of food to eat on the way to Liverpool.
“You better go see what the kerfuffle is about, dear.” Cook tipped her head toward the door. “I don’t think you should keep your husband waiting.”
“Impatience is not a virtue. He can wait until I’m finished helping you. Besides, it is abominable for him to raise his voice in such a disgraceful manner. Mr. Jordan needs to learn respectable comportment.” Jemma finished wrapping sandwiches in brown paper and carefully set them inside the basket. The sound of boots clomping down the hall at a brisk pace made her heart beat faster.
Thane strode into the kitchen, tipped his hat to Cook, then turned the force of his cool glare on Jemma.
“I’ve been calling for you? Didn’t you hear me?”
“Indeed. Bellowing about the house like a caged bull, I’m sure everyone from here to Bolton has heard you. Is it too much to ask to be addressed in a civil tone, sir?”
“It is when you’ve lied to me, you conniving little wench.” Thane cupped her elbow in his hand then propelled her down the hall and out the front door. Marched to where wagons waited to be loaded with their belongings, Thane motioned to the stacks of trunks she’d packed and directed out to the front lawn.
A glance over the piles of trunks assured her nothing had been missed. “What is the problem? How dare you call me a wench or a liar! Why I ought to…”
“Explain yourself!” Thane ordered, glaring at her. “You told me you wanted to take a few things that belonged to your mother and a few things for Jack and Lily to remember Jane and Henry, along with your clothes, the dog, and your horse. This, my dear Lady Jemma, is more than a few things. There are thirty-two trunks out here. Thirty-two! You better decide what you absolutely can’t live without and what you’ll leave behind, because I’m telling you right now, you can take sixteen of them and not one more!”
Crumpets & Cowpies: (Sweet Historical Western Romance) (Baker City Brides Book 1) Page 8