Speakeasy, Speak Love

by Sharon G Clark

  “Appreciated, truly, but hope it’s for friendship and not your medical services,” Fiona said.

  “As do I. Good night, you two.” Edward turned and cleared off the table.

  Peter took Margaret by the hand and led her into the hallway. They made their way to the back door, picking up Fiona’s undershirt from the hall table, where Peter had placed it earlier after washing. Outside, at the back of the house, he walked across an immaculate lawn, toward a small structure barely recognizable in the darkness and through the surrounding trees. As they got closer, Finn could see the structure was a small but lovely cottage. “Here we are,” Peter said. He pulled out a key and unlocked the front door.

  Fiona and Margaret followed Peter inside as he turned on a light and hung Fiona’s undershirt on a coat rack secured to the hall wall. The room consisted of a small kitchenette on the left-hand side, a couch, a rocking chair, small fireplace, and against the back wall a full-size bed, and a closed door two feet to the right. Fiona took a step to investigate when Peter said, “Bathroom.” Only two windows gave view to the outside; one on the left behind the table, and one on the right, beside the fireplace, both covered in thick dark cloth curtains. “To keep the outside light out,” Peter said. “And keep the inside light from getting out.” Peter smiled and gave a half shrug. “In the off chance someone happens by, they won’t know occupants are inside.

  Margaret cupped his hands in hers and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Peter, for all you and Edward are doing for us. We are indebted to you.”

  “Nonsense my dear,” Peter said. “There is no debt where the family is concerned. And you’re as much our kin as any blood relation.”

  Fiona stepped forward and extended a hand. “Truly Peter, you’re going above and beyond. Anything you need, which is in my power to provide, just ask me.”

  Peter handed Margaret the key. “Just bring it up to the house when you’re ready to leave in the morning. I’ll provide breakfast before you return home. The bathroom is fully stocked,” he said. “All the supplies you’ll need are in the cabinet for nightly ablutions, and seeing to Finn’s wounds.” With a quick glance around the room, Peter left.

  The door closed and locked behind him, Margaret turned toward her. “Okay sweetheart, time to get you to bed.” The image popping into Fiona’s head of Margaret lying beside her in repose brought Fiona’s face to a burning blush. Margaret chuckled. “Why my dearest heart, you’re positively blushing,” Margaret said. “Rather fetching on you, I must say.”

  “I’m sure it has a lot to do with exhaustion and having a bullet removed. What else could it possibly be?” Fiona asked, making her way to the room’s bed. She turned staring at Margaret. “If you have no objection, I really would like to get some rest.”

  Margaret walked over and gently nudged her onto the mattress. She bent and began removing Fiona’s boots. “I’m sorry Fiona, I shouldn’t have teased.” Dropping the last boot in her hand, Margaret stood and gently caressed Fiona’s cheek. Fiona’s eyes closed in delight from the feeling. “I meant no harm. I truly do find it beautiful when you blush.”

  Fiona shook her head. “It’s something I’m working on controlling. As you can see, I have yet to master this reaction.”

  Margaret unbuttoned Fiona’s shirt gently, careful as not to cause further injury to her wound presumably. Margaret tossed it onto the floor. She stared at Fiona’s bindings. Fiona’d worn it so long, being without made her feel compromised, disconcerted as if all her secrets were as exposed.

  “Is this as uncomfortable as it looks?” Margaret asked.

  Fiona nodded. She wouldn’t speak for fear of alerting Margaret of the roiling emotions zipping through her body, causing heat and wetness in areas she shouldn’t be thinking of, and inciting Fiona’s heart to beat faster. Margaret stared into her eyes for a long moment before she asked, “May I remove it?”

  Again, she nodded. Awkwardly, Fiona turned her head, not only due to embarrassment, but also due to not wanting to witness the revulsion and disgust Margaret might display at her boyish frame. She heard Margaret take a deep breath. “Oh, Fiona, you’re beautiful.”

  It took every ounce of Fiona’s willpower not to turn her head. Fiona felt tender fingertips skim across the skin just below her breasts. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lower lip hard in an attempt not to face Margaret, not to sigh or moan at the ripples of goosebumps cascading across her flesh.

  “Margaret, honey—”

  Margaret placed a finger to Fiona’s lips to halt further words. “No need to sweet-talk me,” she said. Margaret wiggled her eyebrows. “Not that I don’t like it because I do. Immensely.” She reached for the top of the duvet and pulled it down, revealing the blankets and sheets beneath. “Come on, scoot up here.” Fiona did. “Okay, take your pants off.” Fiona shot her a flabbergasted look. Margaret met her gaze with the wicked gleam. “I could do it for you if you’d like?”

  “No, I’ve got it.” Fiona quickly removed her trousers and dropped them to the floor. “Happy?” she asked, glaring at Margaret. She yanked the covers up to her chin, wincing at the jolt of pain the hasty action caused her wound.

  Fiona’s gaze followed Margaret as she crossed the room and turned off the lights. In the darkness, Fiona heard the rustle of clothes as Margaret undressed. A few moments later, Fiona felt the mattress shift as Margaret climbed in bed beside her. She stiffened, not sure what Margaret expected of her.

  “Relax, Fiona,” Margaret said softly, her breath warm against Fiona’s ear. “Let me hold you?”

  “Um, yeah if you’d like.” Fiona felt awkward, and immature like her every day persona. She shifted closer and felt Margaret’s arm reach around her as she pulled Fiona’s head onto her shoulder, Fiona’s body half on top of Margaret.

  “I won’t hurt you,” Margaret said. Fiona felt the kiss placed on the top of her head. “I want to fall asleep with you in my arms. That’s all.” Fiona let her body release tension, only to stiffen again when she felt Margaret’s soft chuckle. Was she laughing at her? Margaret must’ve felt her begin to pull away because her arm tightened around Fiona. “No, stay, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. Honest.” The curtain on the windows did their job, keeping the room in darkness. Margaret didn’t appear to have the same handicap, her aim unhindered. Her hand caressed Fiona’s cheek, her thumb tracing Fiona’s lower lip. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but the boy shorts were just too cute.”

  Fiona moved the hand resting on Margaret’s stomach and tentatively glided it in a small circle. Even though the thin silk of what Fiona assumed to be the material of her camisole, the tender, soft flesh that was Margaret felt wonderful. Fiona inhaled the flower scent indicative of Margaret. She extended the circumference of the circle, and her fingers lightly grazed the underside of Margaret’s breast. She jerked the hand away and pulled her fingers into a fist.

  A warm hand covered hers. “It’s all right. You don’t have to be embarrassed or afraid.”

  “I’m not.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized Margaret knew them for the lie they were. Fiona was embarrassed, having gone further than a kiss. Not that she wasn’t enjoying it because she had—extremely. What made her afraid was that the feeling she had for Margaret might not be returned, might be transitory. She didn’t want this—whatever it was or could be—to end.

  “Fiona?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She wasn’t certain that was a lie.

  “Tell me, are they comfy?”

  It took a moment for Fiona to realize to what Margaret referred. When she did, Fiona rolled onto her back and stared in the direction of the ceiling. The silliness of the situation hit her, and she laughed. “Actually, they are quite comfortable. Can you imagine if I didn’t wear them? If someone was to unexpectedly find girl’s undergarments in my boy’s laundry?”

  MARGARET SMILED DOWN at Fiona’s sleepy expression as her eyes sluggis
hly opened. Her hand rested on the bone between Fiona’s breasts, and it took every ounce of restraint not to caress those small firm mounds. “I thought you were beautiful before, but now it’s a toss-up.”

  “Toss-up for what?” Fiona asked. She tried to sit up, but Margaret held her down with a subtle amount of pressure on her chest.

  “Are you more handsome nearly naked and embarrassed, or just waking up from sleep?”

  “Now you’re just being silly,” Fiona said. She turned her face away, but not before the blush reddened her cheeks. Her embarrassment was also evident in the flush spreading across the rest of Fiona’s exposed flesh.

  “I’m not actually, but I suppose you’ve never learned to accept a compliment.” Margaret did give in to the impulse to explore Fiona’s breast. Leaning down, Margaret gently sucked a nipple into her mouth, flicking the tip of her tongue until it peaked. Fiona gasped, arched into her mouth, while the rest of her body stiffened. “Mm, ambrosia.”

  “Margaret?”

  Margaret released the nipple and raised her head to place her mouth over Fiona’s in a slow kiss, deepening the kiss and relaxing her body on top of Fiona. Even through her camisole, Margaret could feel the heat suffusing Fiona’s skin, felt the contrast of the soft pale skin covering muscles from all the lifting from her deliveries. Her own body responded with a warmth between her legs. Fiona made her so hot. She pulled away when Fiona’s breathing became rapid. “Your kisses send a fire through my blood. I adore the magic of your lips.” She sat up and tucked her legs under her, as she stared down on a now squirming Fiona. “Much as I wish we could spend a lifetime here, like this, I suppose that’s impossible.” Margaret sighed. “There are pleasures I’d like to share with you, Fiona, but you’re healing, and your health is important to me.”

  Fiona pushed herself into a sitting position and leaned her head against the headboard. Her hands trembled as she tugged the sheet until it covered her nakedness. “May I ask—” She inhaled a deep breath. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful of your attentions, but why me?”

  Had anyone but Fiona posed the question, Margaret would be offended and angry. This was Fiona, however, with all her insecurities and lack of experience. She wasn’t fishing for compliments; Margaret doubted she’d know how. Gazing deep into the honey-gold eyes, Margaret could see her honest confusion. “I won’t promise forever, but I hope that’s where we’re heading. Your heart is kind and caring. You hide it from being too obvious, but I can see you’ve an unfathomable love for Sunny, not just in protecting her. That, in itself, has helped heal Sunny and allowed her to return step-by-step to this world, in her head and heart as well as her body. And if you can share even half that affection with me, I’ll be the luckiest woman.” Margaret reached for the hand not clutching the sheet, and held it in her own. “You’re easy to look at, you treat me like I’m special to you, and when we’re together, I feel you’re focused on me with heart and mind.” She squeezed the hand in hers. “The road ahead will be difficult, but I’m willing to do what it takes to keep you.”

  Margaret started to worry she’d offended her when Fiona stared expressionlessly in her direction. After a long moment, Fiona leaned forward and gave a quick kiss to her lips, and then climbed out of bed. She picked up the material for binding her chest and paused, probably realizing the wound would make the action difficult. Margaret jumped from the bed and stood behind Fiona, wrapping her arms around Fiona’s waist, her head resting on Fiona’s back. “I’ll help you dress in a minute, Fiona. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Fiona’s body stiffened. “Nothing’s wrong.” It wasn’t by much, but Fiona relaxed her body just a smidgeon. If she was trying to deflect Margaret’s concern, it wasn’t going to work.

  “Oh, honey, there is. You’ve emotionally distanced yourself from me.” She clutched Fiona’s waist a little tighter, turned her head, and placed a kiss between Fiona’s shoulder blades. “Please don’t hide secrets from me.”

  Lowering her head, Fiona groaned, her posture sagging in defeat. When she finally spoke, Fiona’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know why I feel the way I do for you. These feelings scare me. But, here’s the truth.” Fiona looked over her shoulder at Margaret. “In a perfect world, I’d want forever, but the world is cruel, Margaret. So is Boston.” She turned away again. “As soon as I can put enough money together, Sunny and I are leaving for the west. I would consider it a dream come true if you’d join me, too. I’d do my best to take care of you, give you what you need. I can’t promise it will be easy, not like Eldon can provide for you. In fact, life will be hard, I’m certain. But I’d never hurt you like Jimmy will, like maybe even another man would.”

  Margaret ran a hand across Fiona’s bare shoulder and down her arm. She grinned at the goosebumps that erupted. She took a step back after releasing Fiona’s waist and retrieved the clean gauze roll she’d taken from Edward. “Arms away from your sides,” she said, standing in front of Fiona. She began the task of binding the beautiful breasts in front of her. Lordy, what a shame to hide them, she thought. “Yes, I want to leave with you and Sunny, Fiona, but we’ll have to carefully plan our departure to disguise any trail three lone females will make.” Margaret tucked the end into the layers of gauze. When they went to the main house for breakfast, Margaret would need to get some tape to secure her handiwork better. “In the meantime, we need to conduct our lives much as we are now.”

  Fiona nodded. “I understand.”

  She didn’t want to bring up the next topic, but Fiona would find out soon enough, and Margaret not telling her could cause more hurt feelings than the subject matter. “I need to tell you about a deal I’ve had to make with Eldon just to have more time with you.”

  “What kind of deal?” Fiona asked.

  “Eldon has given me two weeks to find an appropriate suitor, or he’ll accept Jimmy’s proposal.” Fiona’s body tensed again, but she remained silent—if you didn’t count the gnashing of her teeth. Margaret let the information sink in before she dropped the other shoe, and took the time to retrieve the cleaned undershirt and the button shirt.

  As she re-dressed Fiona, taking care to put as little strain on the injured shoulder as she could, Margaret gave a glance into Fiona’s wooden gaze. “In order to comply with Eldon’s demands and make an effort, I’ll be going out more, starting with Janice Hartwell’s party in a couple of days.” Because of the deal with Eldon, the situation would be hardest on Fiona. Finn would be required to conduct business as Eldon’s driver, and as her driver to these festivities. Margaret would have to be more creative in finding time to be alone with Fiona.

  Fiona bit her bottom lip. “Boy or girl, I don’t fit into your world, Margaret. We don’t come from the same culture and status.” Fiona placed her hands on Margaret’s shoulders. “I understand your need to appease your brother. Like it or not, any chance to stay clear of Jimmy is a good move. Can’t say I’ll like seeing you with someone else, but I understand the need.” She dropped her hands to her sides. Margaret saw a flash of pain in the caramel depths of Fiona’s eyes before she masked the emotion. “I just hope the charade isn’t a lengthy one.” With that said, Fiona turned and pulled her trousers on.

  Margaret took her cue to get dressed, realizing this discussion was over. She had to agree with Fiona in wanting this farce to be a short one. Since when had her life become so complicated?

  Chapter Eighteen

  FIONA COULDN’T CALM the anxious beating of her heart. Her nervousness must be evident because Margaret reached over and squeezed her thigh in a gesture of reassurance. “It’ll be all right,” Margaret said. Fiona felt the tremor in Margaret’s hand, realizing she too feared the outcome of confronting Eldon.

  “We will know for certain all too soon,” Fiona said, noting Eldon with arms crossed standing before the front door. She slowed the truck in front of the house.

  The vehicle hadn’t come to a complete stop before Eldon yanked the passenger door open and pulled Margaret
into his arms. “Dammit, Babs, I’ve been worried sick.” Placing the truck in gear, shifting the engine off, Fiona got out and stood a few feet from brother and sister.

  “You should have suspected where I’d take Finn to get patched up quietly. We couldn’t have been safer.”

  Eldon slammed his hand against the truck’s hood. Margaret and Fiona startled. “You would have been safer here. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking,” he said, his voice growing louder. “There were places—”

  Fiona couldn’t stand Eldon berating Margaret any longer. “The decision was mine, Mr. Graham,” she said edging closer to Margaret. If Eldon decided to aim the next blow at Margaret, Fiona wanted to be in place to take the slug. “I didn’t know if I could get Miss Margaret to a safe location before you got word where to find us. I took a chance Detweiler, and whoever sent him, didn’t know about the doc.”

  “No way was I going to let Finn bring me somewhere, even for my alleged safety, while he’s bleeding and hurt after taking a bullet meant for me without some means of helping him.”

  “It could have been Finn’s bullet. You don’t know for sure,” Eldon growled.

  “Neither do you.” Margaret scowled at Eldon. Fiona worried an argument might result, relieved with Margaret’s next words. “Can we finish this discussion inside? Or are you fine sharing this conversation with the neighbors?”

  Eldon remained silent for a long time. “Fine. Let’s finish this in my office. How’s the wound, by the way, Finn?”

  Fiona didn’t fool herself into believing he cared more than superficially. She wasn’t going to slit her own throat being rude now, either. “Got no beef with the Doc’s skills. I’m jake, but Junior won’t be after I give ’im a sockdolager in ’is kisser.”

  “Put that on hold, kid. We have a lot to discuss.”

  Fiona felt nauseous with fear of the unknown. She knew the danger visited upon Margaret put Finn in a precarious position, teetering on being hero or villain in Eldon’s eyes. Fiona hoped for the former.