Midnight

by Beverly Jenkins

  He said to her in a soft voice, “I believe this round is mine, sweet Faith.”

  Charity couldn’t seem to hide a grin.

  “Go away, Nicholas.” It was all Faith had. He was so uncontrollable. “Charity, let’s go to the parlor.”

  Sailing past the grinning Nicholas, Faith escorted Charity to the parlor and wondered where she could buy a barrel of extra hands.

  Faith closed the double door and they both sat on the large love seat.

  “Well,” Charity exclaimed.

  Faith ran her hands over her eyes. “He’s incorrigible.”

  “I noticed.”

  Faith looked her way. “He’s asked me to marry him.”

  “What?”

  “Yes.”

  Charity stared, shocked. “Ingram said you were to be the housekeeper.”

  “I was, but after he left this morning, things changed.”

  “Oh my goodness. What did you say?”

  “I said yes,” she said plainly. “I’d be a fool not to.” Faith let her friend digest that for a moment before asking, “Did Ingram tell you what happened between my father and me?”

  “He did. I’m so sorry you had to suffer that but it is so good to see that you are well.”

  “Only because of Nicholas. Implications to the contrary, his lack of sleep is due to the nursing he gave me. He tended me for four days.”

  “Very commendable. When I’m ill, Ingram goes and fetches my mother. He doesn’t do well around sickness.”

  Faith wasn’t aware of that. She knew it wasn’t right to compare the two men, but after being with Nicholas she was certain that her feelings for Ingram were those of a young innocent girl and not a woman full grown.

  Charity asked, “So he just up and asked you to marry him?”

  “Yes. He’s termed it an adventure.”

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “You think so?”

  “Have you taken a good look at the man? If I didn’t love Ingram with all my heart, I would have already pushed you into the harbor.”

  Faith grinned and her friend did as well.

  Charity asked, “But what is this about your father and Elizabeth Sutter?”

  So they spent a few moments discussing that topic, and when they were done Charity looked as disgusted as Faith had been at the news. “That’s appalling. Do you think he’s the father of her babe?”

  Faith straightened. “What babe?”

  “Elizabeth is carrying.”

  “Oh my goodness. How do you know?”

  “Mrs. Bentley.”

  Mrs. Bentley was the local midwife.

  “You know that woman can’t keep a secret.”

  Faith was stunned. Could the babe be his? She supposed it had to be because surely Elizabeth wouldn’t go into the marriage carrying another man’s child. “Has it become common knowledge?”

  “Not so far. The people that do know are being discreet, but the cat is out.”

  Faith shook her head and sighed aloud. “Poor Father.”

  “You’re very Christian to say that in the face of how he treated you. Had my parents tried to give my hand to Will Case I would have run out into an ice storm, too.”

  Faith thought back on that awful day. Had it not been for Nick, Charity would be helping to plan Faith’s funeral. “So, catch me up on what’s been going on in Boston. Nick has had me so wrapped in cotton I’ve no idea if war’s started or if Gage has been tarred and feathered and tossed into the bay.”

  “The city should be so lucky. His soldiers are marching all day every day. People are afraid. Everyone says we are getting closer and closer to war.”

  Faith thought about General Gage’s plan for mid April and hoped things might be settled before then, but the time was looming.

  “Does Nicholas know about Lady Midnight?”

  Faith shook her head. “No, and I’ve decided to let her die. The risk is too great, especially since he thinks she may know something about his father’s arrest. He may not believe I don’t.”

  “So you won’t be telling him anything?”

  “Other than that I support the rebels. No.”

  “Sounds sensible.”

  “I’ve debated it, but I can’t seem to find a way to bring it up, not that I’ve tried, but I think remaining silent is best.”

  Charity nodded her agreement. “He’s quite a catch. You’re going to make a great number of women green with envy. Are you ready for your wedding night?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure.” She thought back on his powerful kisses.

  “Understandable. Mine wasn’t what I expected at all.”

  Faith’s confusion must have shown on her face.

  “Let’s just say I expected more.”

  Faith still didn’t understand.

  “It was over so quickly, I wasn’t sure anything had happened at all.” She took a look at Faith’s puzzled face and added, “Maybe I should explain.”

  “Please.”

  “When l lived with my parents, I slept in the room right below theirs, and on some nights, I’d hear them having relations.”

  Faith’s eyes widened.

  “The bed would be knocking around, my papa would be yelling, Mama would be making all kinds of high-pitched shrieks, and frankly it sounded like they were having a good time.”

  “So are you saying you and Ingram aren’t?”

  “Aren’t. Ever. Never. Pick any word you’d like. He taps me on the shoulder, does his business, and rolls away. Five minutes later, he’s asleep.”

  Faith didn’t know what to say.

  “I love him so much, and it’s maddening because I know there could be much more. However, I play the dutiful wife and don’t complain.”

  Faith had a good idea of what Nicholas would be wanting, but it never occurred to her that she might have wants, as well.

  Charity said sagely, “I don’t think you are going to have that problem with your Nicholas, though.”

  “No?” Faith asked, unable to mask her amusement.

  Charity shook her head. “No.”

  Both women smiled.

  A few moments later, Charity asked, “Do you have something to be married in?”

  “Nothing that doesn’t make me look like the church mouse that I am.”

  “I probably have something that will fit in my armoire. I’ll bring it with me when I come to do your hair.”

  Faith opened her mouth to protest being fussed over but closed it; she knew better than to argue with Charity. “That’s fine.”

  “Thank goodness you did this without notice, otherwise my mother would want to make a special dress and drive you batty for weeks on end like she did me when I married.”

  Faith remembered. “We’re going into town in the morning. He wants us to stop by her shop and ask if she would sew me up a few new shifts.”

  “She’d love to, I’m sure.” Charity studied her intently. “Are you certain you want to marry him?”

  “I do. It isn’t like I’ve suitors lining the walk, and for now, he and I seem to be getting along.”

  “As long as you are content.”

  “I am.”

  “Have you decided when and where you’ll marry?”

  “No planned date as of yet, but we agreed it should be here in the parlor.”

  Charity glanced around. “It’s a lovely room. Who’s the woman in the painting?”

  “Primus’s wife and Nicholas’s mother, Adeline. She died giving him birth.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Yes it is.”

  “He favors her.”

  “I think so as well.” Faith wondered what kind of person she’d been inside. Had her marriage to Primus been an adventure?

  “Should I bring food for the dinner?” Charity asked, bringing Faith back to the wedding plans. “How many others are you inviting?”

  “Just two. His neighbors, the Cleggs.”

  “Then I will bring food and the wedding cake, so you must
let me know the date in plenty of time.”

  “I will.”

  * * *

  While Faith and Charity were sequestered in the parlor, Nicholas made a quick trip over to the Cleggs.

  Arte answered the door.

  As Nick entered, the red-haired Bekkah appeared and asked, “How is Faith?”

  “She’s well but Arte, I need your uncle Absalom to marry us.”

  “Marry whom?” he asked, sounding confused.

  “I’ve asked Faith to marry me and she said yes, so we need a pastor.”

  Arte held up his hand. “Hold on a moment. How did she go from being deathly ill to your intended?”

  “By agreeing to be my housekeeper.”

  “Have you been drinking?” the puzzled Arte asked.

  “Not that I remember.”

  Bekkah chuckled and said to her husband, “Arte dear, you know how Nick is. He’ll have you chasing your own tail until Easter. He loves to tease. You’ve known that all your life.”

  Arte dropped his head and grinned. “So you were just jesting?”

  “No. I’m quite serious.”

  Both Cleggs stared, thunderstruck.

  Arte asked with alarm, “She’s not carrying, is she? Nick, you didn’t—”

  Nick raised an eyebrow.

  “My apologies. None of my business.”

  “True, but to answer your question, no. So, will you be seeing your uncle soon, or should I drop by the church while I’m in town tomorrow?”

  “I’ll see him in the morning when we drill. I’ll give you his answer when I return home. Where will the wedding be?”

  “My house.”

  “And the day?”

  Nick shrugged. “Friday. Saturday. Whatever day or time is convenient for him.”

  “All right, I’ll ask him.”

  “Thank you. I’d also be honored if you’d stand up with me.”

  Arte smiled. “You know I will.” After a short pause, he asked Nick, “Do you really wish to marry?”

  “To her, yes.”

  Bekkah said, “You’ll need a wedding dinner, so consider that my gift.”

  “Thank you, Bekkah.”

  Arte was studying Nick with such a serious face, Nick sought to reassure him. “Everything will be fine, I promise.

  “I’m writing that down,” he teased.

  Nick grinned. “I have to get back. Thank you for your friendship. We’ll speak again tomorrow.” He departed, leaving the outdone Cleggs to stare at each other in wonder.

  Chapter 16

  Nick came in the door just as the women were leaving the parlor. Faith blessed him with a beaming smile that melted him inside just as it had before.

  “Charity’s going home,” she said to him.

  “It’s been a pleasure, Mrs. Trotter.”

  “For me as well. Congratulations on the upcoming wedding. I know that you will treasure her as much as Ingram and I do.”

  “That is my intention,” he pledged, and saw the satisfaction his words put in Faith’s eyes.

  “I’m going to be making the wedding cake and bringing food.”

  “My neighbor Bekkah has volunteered to feed us as well. Faith and I should know the date by late tomorrow.”

  Faith asked Charity, “You’ll be my matron of honor?”

  “I’d fight anyone else you asked.” She gave Faith an emotional hug, after which she said to Nicholas, “Thank you so much for saving her.”

  Nicholas noted the sincerity in her eyes. “You’re welcome.”

  After her departure, he and Faith stood together in the silence. “I like Mrs. Ground Squirrel.”

  Faith dropped her head and chuckled.

  “Are you enjoying our adventure so far?” he asked her.

  “I am. And you?”

  “Yes.”

  Nicholas used the silence that followed to admire the shape of her mouth, the sheen of her blemish-free skin, and the raven black eyes and matching midnight hair. She was passionate and witty, and he’d chosen her to be his wife. He’d made a good choice. The urge to stroke her soft cheek slid like smoke from beneath the hold he’d placed on himself and next he knew he was doing so. In response, her lids lowered. Leaning down, he kissed her gently and followed it with one filled with his growing ardor. When her parted mouth opened on a breathless sigh, his manhood rose in concert.

  He eased her into his arms; kissing, savoring, dying to have her nude so that he could feast his way down her body without restraint and brand her as his alone. Her warm skin was enchanting; her mouth, hot and sweet. Before he knew it, his fingers were conquering the buttons of her blouse and he was tasting each patch of newly bared skin while she trembled. The thin ivory shift covering her body gave his adoring hand access to the soft breasts unbound by stays. He teased the nipples until they ripened and her sighs and moans increased. Drawn as if by a siren’s call, he kissed his way back to her mouth while his hands on her breasts continued their play.

  Faith was being buffeted by spiraling sensations that obliterated every lecture she’d ever received about the conduct of a proper woman. Her lips were parted, her nipples pleading, and in answer to their soundless cry, he pulled down the shift and took a bud into his mouth. It was too much. Her body exploded into a hundred brilliant pieces and she cried out, shuddering, eyes closed. Staggered, she backed away from him, her hand over her pulsing breast, her breathing harsh.

  “Welcome to the world of pleasure, sweet Faith.”

  Faith had never felt such an explosion before.

  He smiled into her passion-lidded eyes. “It’s your body’s natural response.”

  The echoes continued to drum inside and remnants of the silken bliss closed her eyes again.

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “I did,” she confessed, and wondered if that made her a fallen woman in the eyes of polite society. In truth, her body didn’t care. Her still pulsing nipples concurred.

  Nick knew she was unaware of what an alluring picture she made with her blouse opened and her shift in erotic disarray around her bared breasts. It took all he had to maintain his position and not back her gently against the door and pleasure her nipples again. She was indeed sweet, and he wanted to taste her until the roses bloomed in June.

  But he planned to wait until the wedding night. That was important to him, and it also felt right. She wasn’t a camp follower or a whore purchased to service drunken sailors or a gilded courtesan he’d contracted with for one night. Faith was a stunning, high-spirited beauty who’d graciously agreed to become his wife. “Would you do something for me?”

  “What is it?” she asked softly, her body still humming from being pleasured so well.

  “Close your blouse. The sight of you is threatening my hold on myself. I want to wait for the wedding night to be with you fully, but it’s difficult to keep my distance when you look the way you do.”

  Faith nodded. Under the scrutiny of his glittering eyes, her fingers slowly did up the buttons. Watching him watch her gave Faith her inkling of the sensual power a woman wielded over a man.

  When she was done, he said in a tone that made the echoes return, “Thank you.”

  She could tell by his manner that his hold on himself was tenuous. A part of herself eagerly anticipated his loss of control, but she thought it best if she distanced herself and let the air between them cool. “I’m going to fetch a book from the den and go up and read awhile before I sleep.”

  His eyes moved from her mouth to her eyes. “Then I will see you in the morning.”

  Memories of the ways he’d kissed her threatened to distract her so she forced them away. “What time would you like breakfast?”

  “Early might be best since we’re driving into town.”

  In the face of the day’s myriad happenings, she’d all but forgotten about the trip. “I’m accustomed to starting the fire at four, will that be suitable?”

  “Perfectly.”

  His gaze was holding her with an intensity that ma
de a singular craving rise from between her thighs and slide through her blood.

  “Good night, Faith.”

  “Good night, Nicholas,” and she retreated.

  Later, lying alone in Adeline’s large bed, Faith gave up trying to read Hamlet and set the bound volume of the Bard’s tragedies aside. How could she read with her body so restless? Everywhere her mind turned he was there, pleasuring and kissing her until the passion carried her away. When she told Charity that she didn’t know what to expect, she’d no idea how truthful that admission had been. Who could have imagined such a kaleidoscope of sensations or that her body would bloom and burst the way it had? She was glad he’d had a measure of control because she’d had none and there was no telling how it might have ended. He’d pledged to go slow, but the only slow thing about their encounter down in the foyer had been the pace of his seduction and the explorations of his expert hands. It was obvious he was as well versed in passion as he was with a woman’s body. Once again she thought it very unfair that a man would know more about her body than she, but the parts of herself that he’d made croon and plead were glad he did. Now she knew what desire and lust were capable of instilling and that she could lose herself in it as a result. He’d not been wrong in terming their marriage an adventure because it was proving to be just that.

  The following morning, Faith had the fire started and was cooking breakfast when he entered.

  “Good morning, Faith. Smells good in here. I hope you slept well.”

  She turned from the fire to reply, “I did, and you?”

  The questioning look in his eyes was lit with such humor she wondered what he was about. Attempting to figure it out, she looked down at herself and found the reason. Appalled and embarrassed, she snatched her skirt free of the waistband so it would hide the male wool leggings she always wore for warmth during the cold months. “They keep me warm, and I don’t want my skirt to catch fire.”

  “I don’t want you to catch fire, either, sweet Faith.”

  He’d only just entered the room and Faith was already on the threshold of swooning. Unbidden memories of last night rose to mind. By the light in his gaze she sensed him to be on a similar track so she turned back to the fire and picked up the fork to fiddle with the bacon. “Everything’s almost ready. I can bring it out to the dining room if you’d like.”