Time After Time

Home > Other > Time After Time > Page 53
Time After Time Page 53

by Elizabeth Boyce


  “May I beg a ride with you, Miss Wentworth? When I found an enchanting sea nymph in the forest, I slapped Neptune’s flank to send him back to the stable for relief of that hot, heavy saddle.”

  Reluctantly, they all rose to return to the manor. Jonathon clasped his hands as a step for Emily to mount Shadow, and then swung up behind her. He wrapped one arm about her waist and held the reins with the other. Having nowhere else to put her hands, she gently clasped them over the hand that held her waist. She was intensely aware of his lean body pressed against hers, and this closeness caused warmth to course through her. Their thighs lay against each other’s atop the horse’s sides, and they moved together with the rhythm of its gait. Emily felt exhilarated and hated to see the afternoon end.

  Deidre was furious when she saw them arrive together. Rumpled and damp, they joined her and Joanna on the veranda, and Jonathon ordered tall, cool drinks for everyone. Jonathon sat beside Emily on a bench and casually laid his arm behind her. A surge of warmth swept through Emily at his nearness and Deidre shot her a cold look. Joanna laughed when they explained their appearance; she also noticed Deidre’s disapproving frown.

  “I have brought you something interesting, Jonathon,” Randy said, handing him a pamphlet from his saddlebag.

  Taking it, Jonathon read the title aloud, A Summary View of the Rights of British America.

  “It is written by Thomas Jefferson, one of the Burgesses. They have convened in Williamsburg and are chafing at the interference of Parliament,” Randy explained.

  “Again — the interference of Parliament!” Emily burst out. “How can a government interfere with a colony it rules?”

  “Well, the House of Burgesses has completely denied the authority of Parliament over the colonies,” he replied.

  “Denied the authority? Why that is insane!” she cried.

  “Think of it, Em. They have tied our hands in trade, taxed so many commodities, limited our expansion — they will drain us dry and we shall never prosper,” Jonathon said.

  “But we are loyal British subjects …” she sputtered. “Of course we are under the authority of Parliament.”

  Deidre snorted. “You cannot expect a child to understand the politics of the day, Jonathon, darling. I am sure it is quite beyond her.”

  Jonathon dismissed her with a scornful look and turned to Emily. “Em, we are loyal British subjects. No one is denying that, but Parliament is too far removed from our needs. They have suspended the legislature in New York and taken drastic measures in Boston.”

  Emily was disturbed as she listened to their discussion, for they were talking of her beloved England. Jonathon offered her the pamphlet to read, and she accepted it. The restlessness that had crackled in the air in the Raleigh Tavern their first night ashore was present here. And it frightened her.

  • • •

  Conversation turned to more agreeable topics as they ate a light supper of eggs, corn meal, and cider. In a more affable mood, they returned to the veranda to watch the stars appear in the deep velvet night. Crickets chirped their soothing symphony as the evening enveloped the group with a welcome, cool breeze. Their voices fell softly upon the night, and candlelight flickered on their faces.

  Deidre had taken Emily’s place next to Jonathon and locked her arm through his, nuzzling against him so her full bosom pressed against his arm. Emily was reminded of a cat arching its back and rubbing against a table leg. She sat across from them and, looking up, met Jonathon’s eyes. There was warmth there as he smiled at her, and her returning smile showed dimples that enchanted. She lowered her eyes and picked up the strands of conversation.

  Their laughter floated on the gentle night, and their conversation rose and fell in pleasant tones. Deidre and Randy left, and the others prepared to retire. Joanna and David went up first, soon followed by Andrew. Emily felt as if she, too, should leave, but the night was so lovely… and she wanted to stay. In the silence she began to feel uncomfortable and wondered if her decision to stay had been a wise one.

  “There was a small smile playing on your lips as you looked at Deidre. May I be so bold to inquire as to your thoughts, Miss Wentworth?” Jonathon asked.

  Emily looked at him for a moment, and then said boldly, “She reminds me of a cat. A … silky cat.”

  “Would the adjective you were searching for have something to do with her appetite? And I do not refer to food.” He laughed softly.

  Emily was grateful for the blackness of the night, for then he could not see her turn scarlet. She did not answer.

  “I see. Well, you are right; she is like a cat.” He became serious, “And she has particularly sharp claws, Em. Be careful of her.”

  “Is that a warning, Captain?” she asked lightly. “Why ever should I need to be wary of her? What do I have that she could possibly want?”

  It was Jonathon’s turn to be silent.

  They sat watching the stars, pointing out different constellations and listening to the night sounds that surrounded them. It was peaceful as they talked softly. Emily felt a warmth and closeness toward Jonathon that began to wash away the resentment and suspicion that she had harbored more in her head than in her heart.

  “I enjoyed our frolic in the stream today, Emily. You are quite lovely, you know.”

  Emily’s heart lifted at the compliment.

  “And you are quite impetuous, Captain,” she laughed. “I enjoyed it, too. Especially when you got the soaking you deserved!”

  “As I recall, madam, I am not the only one who got soaked. Nor that deserved to!”

  “Why, Captain, you cannot mean me!”

  They laughed together remembering the gaiety, and their laughter faded to smiles as they remembered lying in the grass.

  Emily found Jonathon’s eyes upon her and, for a moment, time stopped. Her heart raced in her chest, and her body longed to be in his arms. The memory of his kiss aboard the Destiny seeped into her mind; her lips felt the fire as if it had happened just a moment before. She looked down at her hands, and then rose. He rose, too, and stood in front of her.

  “Well, I think I shall retire,” she said softly.

  Clenching his fists at his side, Jonathon fought down the urge to take her in his arms, press her body close, and kiss her long and full.

  “Good night, Em.”

  She chanced a look at him, blue eyes meeting brown, and the flicker of candlelight golden upon her face.

  “Good night,” she whispered and swept past him.

  Jonathon went inside and poured himself a brandy. Returning to his seat on the veranda, he silently toasted Emily. He sat deep in thought until the grandfather clock in the hall struck midnight.

  • • •

  Emily was puzzled as she entered the parlor, where Dulcie said Deidre awaited her. The morning sun streamed in, and a light breeze billowed the lace curtains. Muted voices drifted in from the gardens as Joanna supervised the work there.

  Deidre maintained a cool, sophisticated mien when Emily appeared, though no doubt anger and jealousy roiled within her. She looked the girl over, taking in her tawny hair, highlighted golden by the sun, and her shapely figure enhanced by the simple, yellow frock she wore. The result of her scrutiny served only to increase her reined emotions.

  “Good morning, Deidre,” Emily said as she took a seat across from her.

  “Well, Emily, you look just lovely today.”

  Not sure how to take this, Emily merely smiled.

  “Quite a contrast to the scene I witnessed yesterday.” Deidre lowered her eyelids as if properly scandalized. “That is what I came to talk to you about, my dear. At your age I am sure that you do not understand about… well… proper decorum. I thought we might have a little chat so I could help you begin to act more… uh… ladylike.” Deidre looked at her feigning concern.

&nb
sp; “Just how old do you think I am, Deidre? Why not cease this charade and tell me why you came?”

  Deidre, kept her composure momentarily. Then, deciding on a course of action let her guard down, and the motherly smile that had been on her face melted into a sneer.

  “All right, Emily, I shall be frank. I have known Jonathon for many years, very intimately,” she stressed the word. “He is a mature man who appreciates a woman who is… shall we say, knowledgeable. I do not wish to see our relationship disturbed by you and your conniving ways. I see your game here; you have wormed your way into this house, and you have set your sights on Jonathon. It does not take much to see through your scheme, and I must compliment you on the success of it so far. But I warn you, Emily, find a nice young man your own age and keep away from Jonathon.”

  Emily was livid at the woman’s impudence, but she sat calmly, not showing her rage. Picking an imaginary piece of lint off her skirt she casually looked at Deidre.

  “Tell me this, Deidre. In my grand scheme, as you call it, how did I arrange for my father to drown at sea?”

  Deidre recoiled as if she had been slapped. Emily did not intend to let her off that easily.

  “Deidre, my dear,” she said sweetly, “Jonathon is a man of the world; both of us understand that. I appreciate your jealousy because, as we both know, Jonathon is so… virile.” She looked down delicately. “I think we should just be grateful for any opportunities we have to… enjoy his attentions… and leave it at that, do you not agree? Otherwise, we would be opponents, and then it would come down to youth versus experience.” Emily looked her squarely in the eye.

  “You have not heard the end of this, you little — ” Deidre seethed, rising from her chair.

  “Are you not staying for tea?” Emily asked brightly as Deidre stormed out of the room.

  Emily sat staring ahead of her as she listened to the carriage roll down the drive. Her cool exterior was betrayed by trembling as she sat lost in her thoughts.

  “So that is how it is,” she whispered. Her heart was heavy as she thought of Jonathon lying in Deidre’s arms. Why had she led Deidre to believe that she was also Jonathon’s lover? But then Emily recalled the smug, condescending look on the older woman’s face, and she knew why. But Deidre’s claim did not fit somehow. Jonathon certainly had not acted enamored of Deidre last night. In fact, he seemed a bit put off by her attentions. He certainly was not shy. Was he wanting to keep their liaison a secret? Emily puzzled over this for a while. Finally, rising, she joined Joanna who was carrying in a basket vibrant with freshly cut Rose of Sharon, lobelia, lupine and tuberoses from the garden.

  Emily took the flowers while Joanna removed her large sunbonnet.

  “Joanna, how long have you known Deidre?”

  “As long as I can remember. Our families have been friends for years. In fact, it was expected that she and Jonathon would marry, but she married Robert Manning instead. It caused quite a sensation,” Joanna explained as she arranged the flowers in a crystal vase.

  “When did Robert Manning die?” Emily asked.

  “Oh, about six years ago. They had only been married a few years. They found Robert’s body in the river. It was a terrible shock, and Deidre was in such a state that she stayed with us for a short time. You see, she was completely alone as her parents had both died by then.”

  “And she never remarried?”

  “No,” Joanna answered absently, intent on rearranging an errant tuberose. Then she turned to look at Emily. “Why?”

  “I was just curious.”

  Joanna looked at her for a moment. “Deidre is a strong-willed woman, and when she does not get what she wants she can be quite disagreeable.”

  “Is that a warning, Joanna?” Emily asked.

  Joanna stopped fixing the flowers and again looked at Emily. “It is information that might be useful.”

  • • •

  The hazy, hot days of August slipped into September, which brought some relief with cooler temperatures. Emily enjoyed riding more and was becoming quite familiar with the area surrounding the manor. Sometimes Andrew or Joanna would accompany her, and she never ceased to be amazed at the vastness of the tobacco fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. She and Andrew were also learning to shoot pistols; between David and Jonathon, they were getting expert instruction. Andrew enjoyed it immensely and practiced whenever possible. Emily did not enjoy it as much as he, but the others convinced her that it was necessary, especially if she planned to continue riding alone. So she practiced, too, and they both became quite proficient.

  Jonathon also invited Emily to enjoy the books in his study, so Emily took advantage of his offer. The titles he owned impressed her; she savored the moments she spent in that room surrounded by knowledge and great thinking set to paper. This is where Joanna found her one afternoon.

  “Emily, I would like to speak with you,” she said.

  Emily set her book down. “Yes, Joanna?”

  “I know it is only six months since your father died, Emily, but we would like to introduce you and Andrew to our friends. We thought perhaps a ball in honor of your eighteenth birthday.”

  Emily’s eyes danced. “Joanna, how wonderful of you!” She walked over and hugged her impulsively.

  “Oh, I am so glad you approve. David and I were not sure if it was too soon, but Jonathon said we should celebrate your arrival. Now we shall make some plans.”

  The two of them spent a delightful afternoon drawing up a guest list. With each name, Joanna gave a brief description to help Emily ease into the society to which she now belonged.

  • • •

  Emily checked her appearance in the mirror. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement and her face glowed. Her royal blue gown lay just off her shoulders and revealed the fullness of her creamy white breasts. She wore a sapphire necklace and drop earrings that had been her mother’s, and her hair was swept up in curls intertwined with blue ribbon and lace. She twirled about in anticipation, her skirts billowing about her legs. Joanna knocked and entered.

  “Emily, you look lovely,” she smiled. Joanna wore a sea green gown and emeralds at her throat.

  “Thank you, Joanna, as do you. It is wonderful of you to do this.”

  “Birthdays have always been cause for celebration in our family, and now you are a part of our family. And it is a good way to show you off to our friends.”

  Emily hugged her. “You have made me feel so welcome here. I thought when I left England that I would never be happy again, but — ” Tears filled her eyes.

  Joanna hugged her and smiled. “Come, Emily, it is time to go downstairs.”

  Many of the guests had already arrived, and their laughter, mingled with the strains of La Royale, floated up the stairs as Emily and Joanna descended. Jonathon saw them and waited at the bottom of the steps. His gaze rested on Emily, and an appreciative grin settled on his face. Joanna suppressed a smile, and Emily felt suddenly shy, but warmth surged throughout her. He offered the women his arms and escorted them into the ballroom.

  Voices softened to a murmur and Emily saw a sea of faces turning toward her. Jonathon reached to a passing tray; he gave each woman a glass of champagne and took one for himself. He signaled Andrew to join them.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present my wards, Andrew and Emily Wentworth, late of London, England, now of Brentwood Manor, Virginia. And I pray you all, drink to the health of Miss Wentworth whose birth we celebrate today.”

  Emily blushed as the guests drank to her health. Then Joanna began a round of endless introductions. Emily murmured polite replies to the myriad questions posed and found it impossible to remember all the names.

  Soon Randy approached and scolded, “Enough, Joanna. Let the girl have some fun, too. She can dance with me.”

  “Diversion, perhaps, Rand
olph, but her feet will not find it fun to be trod upon,” Joanna teased.

  “I was born with light feet and a lilting voice, Mrs. Sutton,” he retorted and drew Emily onto the floor.

  “You look beautiful, Emily,” he smiled down at her.

  “Why thank you, Randy. And you are light on your feet.”

  Randy noticed Jonathon on the far side of the room. Although engaged in what appeared to be deep conversation with Deidre, Jonathon’s eyes never left Emily. Deidre noticed, too, and plucked at his sleeve to get his attention. But when Jonathon met Randy’s gaze he averted his eyes and finally looked back at Deidre.

  The music ended for a brief intermission. People milled about, and Randy led Emily toward the table laden with refreshments. He offered her another glass of champagne, which she accepted gratefully for, although the doors were flung wide, the mild September night and the large crowd caused the room to be quite warm.

  “Will the belle of the ball promise a dance to her knight in shining armor?” Jonathon was beside her.

  Looking up at him, Emily noticed Deidre behind him. She gave him her warmest smile and replied, “Of course, Jonathon.”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise when she used his first name.

  “My warmest wishes for your birthday, Emily,” Deidre said sweetly, her eyes as cold as ice.

  “Why thank you, Deidre,” she answered graciously.

  A tall, handsome young man approached and said, “Well, Jonathon, will you introduce me to this lovely lady, or do you intend to keep her to yourself?”

  Deidre’s lips tightened.

  “Myself? I have yet to dance with her. It seems the bold rakes that are present tonight,” he cast a meaningful glance at Randy, “have been claiming all her dances. Emily, may I present Phillip Beaumont. Phillip, Emily Wentworth.”

  “I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Beaumont,” Emily said extending her hand. Phillip bent and kissed it.

  “The pleasure is mine, Miss Wentworth. May I have the honor of the next dance?” he inquired.

  “She has promised it to her aging guardian,” Randy laughed.

 

‹ Prev