by Jillian Hart
"Mr. Hunter." Violet primped her lustrous curls with one soft hand. "How magnificent to have such an esteemed member of the community in our very own house."
" 'Tis a dubious honor at best."
Violet's flirting sagged, and she blinked several times, her jaw slackening.
Turning to climb down the rickety ladder, Tessa tried to hide her smile. She hurried out of Violet's way, who was barreling down after her, her anger at Thomas' insult barely disguised.
"Tessa." A deep bass welcomed from the parlor, proving Violet wrong.
"Jonah." He'd come. Every muscle in her body tensed. The air caught sideways in her throat.
He stood smack in the middle of the room, broad shoulders set, booted feet braced apart. Untamed black hair, windblown and lashed by the rain, framed his strong cut face. A black waistcoat draped his solidly planed chest, and dark breeches hugged his well-muscled thighs.
Fire licked to life inside Tessa's chest. Why was it this man who sent shivers down her spine and heat through her veins? "I did not think to see you before the ceremony."
"Surprise." His gaze raked hers boldly and a brazen grin stretched his mouth, not full-fledged, but just a hint of one, and she had no doubt he was remembering how he'd kissed her and caressed her breasts in the faint light of the moon.
She tingled deep inside at the memory, at the knowledge that he was thinking of it too. And grinning.
"Your grandfather and I have come to an agreement concerning your dowry."
"I didn't know you were expecting one." She flashed her gaze to Grandfather, who stood grave and dour-faced near the parlor's crackling hearth. "Surely there is not much to offer…"
Charity made a gasping sound in the corner, where Violet now huddled beside her. "A much-used bride is worth naught, I can tell you."
A much-used bride. Tessa closed her eyes, willing down the anger before it erupted. Let them think what they wanted. She knew the truth. And so did Jonah. She was a virgin still, yet her stepgrandmother's words did pierce like a well-sharpened edge of a blade.
"I am well enough satisfied," Grandfather grunted, arms crossed over his chest. Despite his unhappy expression, she saw the glint of greed in his eyes, a mostly veiled look of contentment. "All I want is for you to get out of my house before your reckless ways and evil tongue tarnish our good family's name for eternity."
"Amen to that." Charity's shrill voice rang with contempt. "We have Violet's reputation to think of. How many eligible bachelors have refused even to consider her because she is related to you?"
Tessa's stomach roiled at Charity and Violet's accusing gazes. Did they blame her because Jonah did not propose to Violet? She suspected they did.
"Now, Mistress Bradford, a gentle tongue is more becoming than a forked one." Jonah purred the insult so that it sounded less offensive, but all the more effective.
Charity's mouth snapped shut with a click of teeth.
Tessa's chest filled as he extended his hand to her, palm up, powerful and yet infinitely tender. His big fingers curled around hers and gently guided her close to him, not touching, but close enough so that she could smell the wondrous woodland scent of him and see the dark flecks of black in his spellbinding eyes. Anger sizzled there, controlled but definite.
"Come, the good reverend will be at our house in one hour."
"What? You're not marrying in the meetinghouse?" Charity sounded appalled.
"Nay, my father is too ill to leave his bed, and he wishes to see the ceremony." With a half-grin, half-frown shaping his face, he stalked to the front door.
Thomas clomped down the narrow staircase from the second story, after apparently successfully negotiating the attic ladder, her small trunk balanced easily on one capable shoulder.
Jonah jerked open the door and held it for her. She snatched her cloak from the peg, and her heart soared at the tug of his hands on the garment, helping her into it. The way he treated her in front of her family made her want to run out into the yard and shriek for joy.
She was finally rid of those people who had caused her an unrelenting unhappiness, who had been so cruel to her mother.
And yet, as Jonah followed her out into the cold rain and the mess of mud and melting snow, she had to wonder. Was she trading one kind of unhappiness for another?
She'd vowed long ago only to marry for love, and even then always to keep her independence, for she would never forget her mother's unhappiness or the lessons of her death.
As Jonah placed both big hands at her waist to boost her up into his wagon, she could not meet his gaze, could not bear to look at his handsome face. Her body reacted to his touch, swift and hard, and heat spilled into her veins and spread through her abdomen.
She was making a grave mistake. She knew it with an unerring certainty as she settled her skirts on the seat. And yet there was no mistaking how Jonah cared for her.
Love you, he'd said, low and barely audible, and his remembered words melted her heart.
Panic mounted with each step of the horse. When he arrived home, they would marry, he and Tessa. Marry. Damn, how that set his heart a-beating. He fought the urge to toss down the reins and run.
Be reasonable, he told himself. Surely this is a logical reaction to impending matrimony. All men must feel the same way, like a coward, wanting to flee after realizing the permanency of such an act.
Tessa sat beside him, her face bowed against the rain. He could see little of it for the brim of her old hat, but the tight curve of her clenched jaw told him she was having fears too.
He didn't fool himself. He'd feel this way about marrying any female. Love was a ridiculous emotion, one that could not exist in a heart lost long ago on a bloody battlefield. He had seen the true nature of life, of death and brutality, and he ought to take comfort that his bride was no green girl, head full of silly and romantic notions. Tessa was a woman of duty.
Aye, there was a small squeeze to his heart when he looked at her. Thomas had told him of the small chamber she lived in, tucked beneath the roof, as cold and damp as a chicken hut, barely large enough to hold a small pallet and her old trunk. The poor woman had no real bed.
The burning anger in his chest flickered to life again. Ely was a squinty-eyed weasel. And the money Jonah had handed over to appease both him and Horace Walling made him sick inside. Not at the loss of such a substantial chunk of coin, but because the old man had acted as if Tessa was a cow to be sold.
The house loomed up ahead, a gray shape in the gloom of the unrelenting rain. "Are you thinking of running off the minute I stop this wagon?"
She nodded, turning just enough toward him so that he could see the luminous depth of her eyes, filled with worry, pinched with fear. "Aye. It did cross my mind."
"Mine, too." It comforted him that she was as uncertain as he. That showed she had sense, that he had not judged wrongly. She knew marriage was duty, not romance for starry-eyed lovers. "I told Father the news this morning when he asked why you hadn't come to tend him."
"Jonah, I should have come."
" 'Twas best this way. I had time alone with him, as I've been wanting, and you needed to pack. You shall never return to that household again."
Something bright and wondrous gleamed in Tessa's eyes, so compelling he could not look away. "Thank you, Jonah. You don't know what that means to me."
Complaints and heartache, even anger, went unspoken. Rain tapped steadily between them, the sound multiplied a thousand times across the yard as Jonah halted the wagon. One of the horses exhaled loudly, mayhap protesting the weather.
"Here we are." Jonah handed the reins to his brother, who had already agreed to tend to the horses so that he might be able to take care of his bride. "I'll take your trunk up to my chamber."
"Oh." Her eyes widened. She paled suddenly, as if struck ill. Or realizing that tonight they would share a bed.
Heat thrummed in his groin. The thought of her naked beneath him, her head thrown back in passion made his pulse jump, made
him want, just want. He would never forget the heady taste of her passion-laced kiss or the little catch in her breath when he'd first touched her breasts. He wanted to hear that sound again, right now. He wanted to see her with candlelight brushing her full breasts. He wanted her naked and out of control and all his.
Somehow, he managed to help her down from the wagon and shouldered her trunk from the back of the wagon bed. He followed her through the parlor and up the stairs to his chamber down the hall. She didn't meet his gaze as she stood before the window, the gray light limning her lean woman's curves and the sensual luxury of her dark hair.
His groin thrummed, and his breeches felt unusually tight. Aye, he wanted her. Tonight she would be his. "The reverend should be here within the next half hour."
She looked at him with eyes wide with apprehension. "I need to change into my dress."
He set the trunk along the wall by the door and tried not to imagine how she would peel off that dark sensible dress and reveal the soft firm breasts beneath.
"I'll leave you alone, then." He turned before he imagined undressing her further. "I need to check on Father."
She merely nodded, her arms wrapped tight around her middle. He left her then, his shaft bent double in his breeches, hard and pulsing, and closed the door.
Tonight would not be soon enough to make her his.
"Jonah," Father called, weak and thin sounding.
"I'm here." Taking a breath, he tried to will away the very pulse of his blood, then crossed the hall. The chamber still smelled of sickness-a weak, low scent that reminded him of midnight.
Father struggled to turn his head on the pillows. "You caught me reading. The good news of your wedding has helped me improve. I believe I can almost sit up."
"Mayhap I can read to you, as long as you stay lying down." Jonah pulled the wooden chair close to the bed, concern and tenderness for this man warm in his chest.
" 'Twould be a great comfort. 'Tis a new volume of poetry by John Donne."
"Hand me the book. Where is Andy? I thought he would have offered to read to you."
Father's hands trembled with terrible weakness as he handed over the slim, leather-bound book. "Seeing to hiring a few village women for a celebration dinner. Since we lost Sarah when her term was done, we are in sore need of help. We can't expect Tessa to wait upon all four of us men. Not if you get her with child soon."
"Aye, the son you expect of me." Jonah cracked open the book with practiced care.
Dark eyes glimmered. "Have you bedded her yet, boy?"
"What?"
Father's laughter, punctuated by a cough or two, filled the room with his happiness. "I may be a sick old man staring death straight in the face, but I'm sharp enough yet to recognize certain things. I remember what lust looks like. And feels like, too."
"You heard how Ely came upon us last night."
"Aye, no doubt the entire village knows. Tessa is a wise choice in a wife, good and kind. And if you cannot keep your hands off her, 'tis even better. A warm wife in bed makes for a contented husband."
"More of your wisdom, eh?" Jonah leafed past the title page of the volume.
"You chose well." Father closed his eyes. "Read to me, son."
Jonah began reading aloud, hearing the tightness in his own voice. And as the clock ticked patiently on the mantle above the fire, he felt his bachelorhood slip away. It was much to surrender, but his father had asked this of him. So he would marry Tessa and hope for the best
"Tessa, Reverend Brown is here." A knock rattled the closed door.
"I'll be right out." She gave her hair one more brush stroke. Her worries had turned into a full-fledged panic. Only the thought of returning to Grandfather's home kept her steady enough to open the door.
Jonah held out his hand. "Come. Father is waiting."
He was a man used to issuing orders and having them followed, a war hero, a leader of men. Her heart stammered at the sight of him.
"I suppose no one in my family has arrived." She laid her fingers against his palm, rough and callused but solid and comforting and oh, so hot.
"Nay. Ely proclaimed he did not approve of the union, especially since he discovered me with my hands down your bodice." A wry grin twisted his mouth, and pleasure snapped in his eyes.
Oh, he looked proud of himself for that. "I never should have allowed you such liberties. Else you could be marrying a more suitable bride."
He halted at the head of the stairs. One dark brow quirked. "Is that what you think? That I'm forced to take you as my wife?"
She swallowed and nodded.
"Tessa." His voice melted, like butter before heat, supple and warm. "I can think of no other I could stomach as well as you for my wife."
"Aye, so now you make jokes."
"Well, we need a jest to relieve this tension. Besides, I don't want a silly child for a wife. We went to school together, and I survived your sharp tongue."
"As I survived your braid pulling."
"I say we shall do fine enough in a marriage." His dark eyes sizzled, stroking across her breasts with a glittering look of anticipation. "I have sampled enough to expect good things to come."
"Aye, you are a devil's spawn." She blushed, her stomach tumbling to her knees. This man was trouble, pure and simple. And yet he was her best chance for a real future, for marriage and happiness and children.
He cared for her enough to pay Grandfather and Horace Walling, enough to marry her. Not every man who ruined a woman's reputation offered her his last name. Jonah cared for her, and that thought fortified her. Made it easier to flash him a smile as they descended into the parlor where the minister waited.
"Let us start this ceremony before both of us drop dead from the anxiety."
"Brace yourself, Mistress Tessa." Thomas caught her hand to wish her luck. "You're marrying a rogue no other woman would have."
She laughed, for his eyes teased. "Aye, I know. 'Tis a foolhardy thing I do, but mayhap it will earn me a spot in heaven for marrying such a toad."
"An ugly toad, no less," Andy piped up.
"Enough." Jonah boomed, holding up one hand. "Stay the insults. Make fun all you want after the ceremony. I have a great need to make this woman my wife."
His arm slipped around her waist, and they faced the minister together. Laughter filled the elegant parlor, despite the gray weather outside, despite the solemn occasion.
"Dearly beloved," the reverend began and the room quieted so that the tick of the clock sounded loud, louder than the rain tapping at the diamond paned windows, even louder than the erratic beat of her heart.
With the simple words of "I do," and a kiss so hot her toes felt afire, she became Mrs. Jonah Hunter.
"He's asleep." Jonah knelt at the old man's bedside, next to his quiet wife, merely a shadow sitting out of reach of the single taper's light. "Andy will stay with him the rest of the night."
Her eyes widened, and she knew what he was thinking. What had to come next? He had bided his time all afternoon and evening, blood zinging through his veins, knowing she was to be his. He could not explain this physical desire for her, but it grew in intensity with every breath he took.
The knowledge of what was to come shadowed her face. So dark they were, lustrous and inviting. So dark the pupils in her eyes. Luminous with desire. "The colonel is exhausted from today's excitement. I don't want to take my eyes off him."
"Andy will fetch us if there's any sign of trouble."
A rustle sounded from the chair by the fireplace. "Aye, I will. Jonah has already spoken to me."
He shot a warning look at his younger brother, who was still half horrified in his choice of wife. Jonah had made it clear to both brothers he and Tessa were to have their privacy tonight.
With the way the urgency beat in his blood, he was already hard with wanting her. So much want. So very hard. And all she did was look at him.
Aye, Father was right. He would not mind the binds of marriage overmuch with Tessa to satisfy
him. She smiled faintly, her chin wobbling. Aye, she must be feeling this need too. He remembered how she had tossed her head when he'd stroked the peaks of her breasts, and how she arched her back, readily offering up those sweet dusky nipples.
Fie on Ely for interrupting him. But that would not happen tonight. Need wrapped around his lower spine, swift and keen. He took Tessa's hand in his and stood.
She did as well. She had changed out of the soft beige gown of her mother's and now wore a somber homespun dress. The dark fabric shivered around her hips and thighs when she stood. Such a sensuous movement, supple and light. He had no doubt that was the way Tessa would behave in his bed, head thrown back, arching up to meet him.
"Come." He cleared his throat, but his voice sounded husky to his own ears. " 'Tis time to retire for the night."
In the corner, Andy blushed and turned to face the fire. Mayhap he did not see the true nature of Tessa Bradford the way Jonah did.
"Andy, make certain to steep the tea at midnight and again at three in the morning. 'Tis a medicine that will aid his recovery." She brushed at her skirts, a nervous gesture.
Andy made some grunt of agreement, still red-faced. Jonah held back his chuckle at the young man who was more sheltered than the rest of the Hunter brothers.
He held open the door for Tessa, then followed her out into the hall. The shadows and darkness swallowed her, but her hand was warm within his. "I have been thinking of this all day."
"So have I." She sounded shy, and he liked that.
"I have not forgotten our night together in the forest." He led her to his chamber-theirs, now- and released her hand so he could light a taper. Just one, 'twould be enough to see her by.
"Do you regret it?" A weak flame flickered to life, revealing the wide depth of her eyes.
"Only that we could not finish what we started." He still remembered how free she was, this woman renowned for her sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude. How well she had hidden her true nature all these years, passion smoldering beneath dark homespun.