Honor lay awake for a long time, wishing Adam would take her in his arms. She tossed and turned all night, telling herself it was the gentle swaying of the ship that kept her awake, but she knew deep inside it was this new yearning she had for Adam, and he seemed totally unaware of her feelings.
Unknown to her, Adam was every bit as disturbed as she was, but he would wait. The time was not yet right, he told himself once more.
* * *
Honor loved the ship. She learned many of the sailors' names and often talked to them. They seemed eager to explain what they were doing. The ship's cook made special tiny cakes and fruit tarts just to please Honor. She began to regret that the journey would soon be at an end.
One day she was resting in the cabin while Adam was working at his desk, when there was a loud rapping on the door.
Adam opened the door to an excited Case.
"Honor, you have to come on deck," Case said excitedly.
She swung her feet from the bed and stood up. "What is it, Case?" she asked eagerly.
He grabbed her by the hand and practically dragged her out the door. "There is a school of dolphins following the ship, and I wanted you to see them."
Adam laughed and followed them up on deck.
Honor leaned over the rail and watched the dolphins as they weaved in and out of the water. They jumped into the air as though putting on a show for the ship's crew. Honor laughed delightedly as one of the sailors dangled a fish from a rope attached to a long pole and one of the dolphins lunged out of the water and took it. The act was repeated several times with the same results.
Adam stood beside his captain with his arms folded over his chest. Most of the crew were present and were now laughing at the antics of the dolphins.
The captain smiled. "Mrs. O'Roarke has charmed the ship's whole crew. She is so lovely," he said softly, almost to himself.
"Yes, they seem to go out of their way to please her," Adam said as he studied the captain. There was adoration written on the man's face, and Adam felt the sting of jealousy, for he knew what the man was thinking and feeling. The captain was having the same reaction to Honor that he himself had experienced when he first met her. Looking at the different crew members of the Yankee Clipper, Adam saw similar expressions on all their faces. He strode across the deck and took Honor by the hand. "You are making a spectacle of yourself," he whispered angrily in her ear.
Honor looked at him with a hurt expression on her face. Adam pulled her across the deck and she had to run to keep up with him. Once in their cabin Adam turned to her angrily.
"I am very displeased with you, Honor. You are my wife, and I will not have you make a spectacle of yourself as you were doing just now."
"I am sorry, Adam, if you feel I was doing something wrong. I had not thought, I suppose it was very unladylike for me to . . . to . . ." He saw confusion on her lovely face. "What was it that I did wrong, Adam?"
The anger drained out of him as he realized she was not at fault. It was his jealousy that had caused his anger.
Honor remembered Jordan's anger, and she cringed inside as Adam walked toward her. Seeing her fear, he cursed himself for a fool.
Touching her face softly, he drew her into his arms. "Oh, darling, you did nothing wrong. It is I who am at fault. You see, I became jealous of the affection the crew has for you. One look from your emerald eyes and a man is hopelessly in love with you. I should not feel anger, for the rest can only watch you from a distance and guess what it would be like to hold you in their arms, while I, as your husband, can know all the joys of . . . will soon know," he corrected, "the joys of your beautiful body."
"You are not angry with me?" she asked, raising her lovely face to him.
"No, darling. Let me set your mind at rest on one point. Even if I become angry with you at some future time, I shall never strike you nor cause you any sort of pain. I would sooner cut off my own arm than hurt you. I saw fear in your eyes a moment ago, and it pains me to think you would ever fear me. Say that you trust me never to hurt you."
"I know you would not hurt me, Adam, and I promise never to fear you."
"I thought you and I were making great progress. Have I damaged my cause by my actions today?"
There was a worried frown on Adam's face, and he was startled when Honor's laughter filled the cabin.
"Oh, Adam, I am not such a child that you should think you have to walk on eggshells around my feelings. I am not as fragile and helpless as you seem to think. In fact, for a woman I pride myself on being quite strong. Always be yourself with me. Say what you feel. If you are angry with me, say so. If I have done something to displease you, tell me. I am your wife, not some china doll that must be put on a shelf for fear that I will break."
Adam grinned. "Am I forgiven then?"
"There was never anything to forgive. I find it flattering that you are jealous. My Aunt Amanda once told me about an Indian who jealously guarded his horse. He thought because he treasured that horse that the other Indians also coveted the animal. Maybe it is that way with you. You love me, so maybe you think other men will have the same reaction. I believe you are very mistaken, but I will always want you to feel that way."
"You little vixen, you have no idea what you can do to a man, do you?"
"You have mentioned it once or twice." There was a gleam in her eyes. As she tossed her silver-colored hair he saw the beginnings of the seductress. If she was aware of her charm, no one would be able to withstand her, least of all himself.
"Damn," he whispered, looking upward. "You can tear a man's heart out, make him impotent with other women, and render him mindless.
Honor laughed. "You make it sound as if I carry some deadly disease."
"Oh, assuredly you do, but I think I have the cure."
Honor looked at him provocatively. "And what is the cure?" she challenged.
"You little devil, flirt with me and you may find yourself out of your depth. I might devour you."
"Is that a threat?"
"Let us say it is more of a promise. One day soon you shall find out just what I am capable of."
Honor saw the fire in his blue eyes and threw caution to the winds. She was learning how to flirt and enjoying the effect it seemed to have on her husband. It gave her a feeling of power to know she could cause such a strong reaction in this powerful man who must have moved many women. "You promise much, but you have yet to deliver," she told him playfully.
His hand tightened on her shoulder and she saw the flame that glowed in his eyes flare into a fire. "You asked for what I am about to do to you, you little temptress."
Honor laughed as Adam picked her up in his arms, tossed her onto the bed, then followed her down, pinning her beneath him. His mouth covered hers as she playfully tried to throw him off. Turning her head, she tried to avoid his kiss. But the laughter died on her lips as he captured her mouth. His kiss had a drugging effect. Where moments ago she had been trying to escape him, she was now pulling him to her. She could feel his long length pressing her into the mattress. His hard body seemed to mold itself to her soft curves. He shifted his weight to the side of her, and Honor wanted to protest, but the feeling soon left her as his hands moved over her shoulder, down to the bodice of her gown. Slowly and deliberately he began unbuttoning the front of her gown. Honor felt her body tremble as his hands moved over her now bare breasts. A moan tore from her throat as he lowered his dark head, and she could feel his lips move over her satiny skin. Then his mouth encircled the highest point, and Honor thought she would die from the feelings that shot through her body with such intensity that she gasped for breath.
Encircling his neck with her arms, Honor cried out his name. Never had she had such strong and uncontrollable feelings. Adam's hand wandered down her leg, and she could feel her gown being pushed upward. His hand seemed to burn the bare skin as it moved slowly and sensuously upward to rest on her thigh.
Adam moved his head and looked deeply into her emerald eyes. He saw the pro
mise of her total surrender written on every line of her beautiful face. Was the time now, he wondered? Would she be ready for the love his body craved?
"Oh, God, I want you, Honor," he murmured against her lips. "Say the time is now. Say you want me, Honor," he pleaded. His voice was deep and seemed to sweep her senses of any resistance.
Her hands had started wandering on their own. She felt the powerful muscles on his shoulders. She gloried in the raw male feel of him. This was her husband, the man she loved, and she wanted him to make love to her, she wanted him to satisfy the ache that started somewhere inside of her and moved like a fire out of control throughout her whole body, crying for surrender and fulfillment.
From far off Honor could hear a pounding on the cabin door. She wanted to ignore it. She wanted whomever it was to go away, but the knocking persisted.
"Mr. O'Roarke, the captain wanted me to tell you we are approaching Boston harbor," the voice said.
Adam raised his head and stared down at his wife. Her eyes were soft and luminous, and her lips were swollen from his passionate kisses. "It seems we are home," he said softly.
Honor sat up, blushing at her reactions to his lovemaking. Never had she dreamed she would react in such an unladylike fashion. Shame made her lower her head. She had all but begged Adam to make love to her, and she knew that had they not been interrupted they would now at this very moment be doing just that.
Adam raised her chin with one finger. "When I do take you, Honor, you will beg and writhe beneath me. There should be no embarrassment. You reacted the way I wanted you to, and soon, darling, very soon I will show you the joy that only I can give you."
He stood up and without a backward glance he swept through the cabin door, leaving her to button her gown and do something with her disheveled appearance.
Her hands shook as she reached for her hairbrush and ran it through her tangled hair. What was this power Adam exercised over her body? The touch of his hand seemed to have burned into her skin, and she could still feel the way he had caressed and aroused her senses.
How different Adam was from Jordan. Jordan had never cared about her feelings. He had brutally attacked her body to satisfy his own needs, but Adam set her body on fire, and he had lifted her to the brink of a promised satisfaction only to pull back at the last moment to leave her devastated. If the man had not knocked on the door would Adam had given her what she wanted? How long must she wait before he would make her his wife in deed?
Honor covered her face with her hands. Make it soon, she thought, for I cannot long endure this torture.
* * *
As the horse drawn carriage made its way through the streets of Boston, Honor looked out the window, taking in the sights of her new home. It was all foreign and unfamiliar to her, for she was a southerner, a rebel, and she was now in the North, which was actually to be her home. The town itself seemed quiet at the moment, for it was approaching the dinner hour and the few people she could see on the streets seemed to be rushing, most probably on their way home.
The carriage turned onto a quiet, tree-lined street where huge, elegant mansions stood among the tall trees. Adam had been silent and brooding since they had bid the captain and crew of the Yankee Clipper good-bye. Honor had so many questions she wanted to ask him about Boston, but his silence prevented her from speaking.
The driver turned into a wrought iron gate and swung the buggy down the long tree-lined driveway. Honor gasped when she saw the huge red brick mansion with its manicured lawn. A large fountain was spraying water ten feet into the air.
A woman, obviously the housekeeper, stood on the wide steps with a smile on her face.
When the buggy came to a stop Adam jumped to the ground and extended his arms up to Honor. "Welcome to your new home, Mrs. O'Roarke," he said as he swung her to the ground.
The woman was joined by five other maids and a man who was obviously the butler. They all were very intimidating to Honor as they stood stiffly waiting for her and Adam to climb the steps.
"Honor, I would like you to meet Mrs. Fitzsimmons. She is the head housekeeper and has been with my family for thirty-seven years. I call her Fitz," he said, smiling affectionately at the older woman.
Her face eased into a smile. "That's right, Mr. Adam, and may I say, ma'am, I am delighted to make your acquaintance. We have been ready to burst with curiosity since that sailor came knocking this noon telling us to prepare for the new missus," the woman said in a voice that had a heavy Irish brogue.
"I am delighted to meet you, Mrs. Fitzsimmons," Honor said, warming to the friendly little Irishwoman.
Adam introduced her to all of the maids and the butler, but Honor was sure she would never remember all of their names. Then Adam led her up the steps and into the house.
Honor stared at the lovely rooms he led her through. There were expensive Persian rugs on the floors, and the furnishings were elegant and in impeccable taste. Honor was overwhelmed by the size of the house. She had never expected Adam to live in a mansion, and instead of being pleased by it, she was terrified. She had thought he was a farmer, but if this was only his townhouse, where he spent very little of his time, what must the farm be like?
Mrs. Fitzsimmons came up behind them. "Mr. Adam, I have put you and Mrs. O'Roarke in the master suite, if that meets with your approval. I have unpacked all of your clothing," she told Honor, "if you would like to refresh yourself, dinner is in about one hour."
"Fitz, have you notified my sister that we have arrived?" Adam asked.
"Yes, sir. She sends word that she and Mr. Hollingsworth will be here by nine."
"Good. Honor, Fitz will show you to your room. Perhaps you should rest for awhile."
Honor wanted to ask him what he would be doing, wishing he would go with her. Everything was so strange to her and a little overpowering. The house was so large, and everything seemed so stiff and formal; it did not seem a house one could feel comfortable in. She longed for the familiarity of Landau and Green Rivers, with their small rooms and their overstuffed chairs and settees.
The housekeeper led Honor up the wide circular staircase, down a long corridor, and opened two huge double doors that led into the master suite.
Honor drew in her breath. The sitting room was lovely. It was decorated in bright yellows and soft grays and had a homey, cheerful appearance.
"Mr. Adam never occupied these rooms before," Fitz told her, "but now that he has taken a wife, I think they will be quite cozy."
"Yes, they are very nice," Honor said softly.
"There are bedrooms on either side of the sitting room. I have put your things in the smaller room and moved Mr. Adam's things into the larger one."
"Thank you, Mrs. Fitzsimmons. Would it be possible to have a bath before dinner?"
The woman smiled. "I will attend to it right away. Mrs. O'Roarke, may I say something, ma'am?"
"Yes, of course," Honor said, removing her bonnet.
"We of the staff are delighted that you married Mr. Adam. I have known that there was a woman in Virginia that he cared about. I know you will make him very happy. Seeing you, I know why he took such a liking to you."
Honor warmed to the friendly little Irishwoman. "Thank you. I shall try to be a good wife to him."
Mrs. Fitzsimmons opened the bright yellow curtains so the room was bathed with the rays of the setting sun. She was much impressed with Honor, who was a lovely, soft-spoken woman. It would be good to have a mistress once more.
* * *
Honor surveyed her image in the full-length mirror.
She wondered if Adam was tired of seeing her in the same two gowns. Her other gowns were badly worn and out of fashion. She was nervous about seeing Suzanne and meeting her husband. Would Adam's sister resent the fact that she had married her brother? She remembered the conversation they had had in the garden of Landau, when Suzanne had told her that if she went away with Adam it would hurt him socially. Now that Honor saw what an important man Adam was, she could better un
derstand Suzanne's concern.
Dinner was served in the huge formal dining room that was twice the size of the dining room at either Landau or Green Rivers. The long mahogany table was set with lovely china and crystal and heavy silver serving pieces. A deep wine-colored rug covered the floor, and wine-colored portieres hung at the windows. Honor felt insignificant as Adam held the chair for her.
Two stern-faced maids served the dinner, which consisted of roasted duck served in a lemon sauce. There were so many courses that Honor lost count of them all. At first she tried to taste a little of everything, but by the time dessert came—strawberries and cream—she had to refuse hers.
There was very little chance for conversation between Honor and Adam, the two serving women standing just behind them.
"However did you acquire fresh strawberries in late August?" Honor asked Adam.
"There is a large greenhouse at Penrose," Adam told her. "You can have almost anything you could ever desire at any time of the year." He smiled. "With the exception of apples, of course."
Somehow, Adam's smile did not seem to reach his eyes. He still seemed distant, almost cold, to Honor. She wondered if it was something she had done to make him angry with her—or could it be that now she was here in his home Adam felt that she did not belong, that she would be unable to fit in with his way of life?
Adam wiped his mouth on his napkin and stood up. "We shall have coffee in the sitting room when my sister arrives," he said, addressing one of the serving girls. He helped Honor to her feet and led her into a room that Honor thought was the most beautiful room she had ever seen. The Persian carpet was of a soft floral design in cream and green. The couches were soft green velvet and the chairs were of cream-colored silk. On the walls hung many paintings that Honor knew had been painted by masters of the art. The room was so formal that she thought she would never feel comfortable in it.
Adam was standing with his back to her, staring out into the darkness. His back was rigid and his hands were crammed into his pockets.
Rebel Temptress (Historical Romance) Page 33