by Jaycee Clark
As it opened, he leaned over and brushed his lips across her cheek even as she stiffened. Jason straightened, tapped her chin with his finger and said, “Until another time, dear, Emily.”
She put her fingers to her chin and nodded, then turned and walked into the house.
Jason watched her. He turned to Cranely and ordered the man to send for a physician to check Mrs. Smith’s shoulder as she’d fallen at the ball and both he and Lord Rayne wanted to ascertain that she was indeed all right. Cranely said he’d send a missive at once. For a moment, Jason stared at the closed door before turning and looking out across the night to his carriage.
Time to pay a visit, or rather plan one for first thing in the morning.
Warnings and promises meant nothing if not planned right. It was time to pay Sir Taber a visit.
* * * * *
“Well, this is different for the bastard,” Sir Taber said, leaning back in his chair watching both he and Rayne. The man was at his own town house and luckily home.
Rayne paced.
Taber frowned. “Rayne, sit the bloody hell down, you’re starting to make me nervous.”
Rayne sat.
Taber, his grey eyes cold as a rapier asked, “What do you want to do?”
“Gut the bastard,” Rayne muttered.
Jason steepled his fingers and tapped them together. “Emily needs a guard.”
“Agreed,” Rayne said.
Taber reached over and dipped his quill into the inkwell, scratching across a clean sheet of paper. “Who do you want?”
“Who’s available?” Jason asked.
Taber looked at him from beneath his brow before glancing back at the missive he was writing. “Several you don’t know about, nor do you need to. However, only a few will work and fit the bill.”
“Two,” Rayne said. “I want two guards on her.”
Taber looked at Jason who only nodded. He’d thought the same thing. Taber’s mouth tilted up on the edge. “Two guards then. And what will the lady think of this?”
“She’ll bloody well do what we tell her.” Rayne stood and began to pace again.
Jason said, “I’ll explain it to her. For now, I believe if they do their job adequately, she won’t even know they’re there.”
Taber tilted his head. “True.” He reached over and jerked the bellpull. “Now that that is out of the way, what do you two plan to do about this man?”
“Nick should be appraised,” Jason reminded his boss.
Taber leveled those cold grey eyes on him. “Why?”
“You know why.” Three years ago, Nick’s wife and unborn child had been murdered. They believed De Fleur was behind the gruesome attack. Nick had sworn vengeance and Jason couldn’t blame him.
Taber sighed. “Sources say De Fleur, or whoever the hell he is, will soon be returning to France.”
“Perhaps. But not soon enough. I’d rather see him dead,” Jason said.
“Yes, wouldn’t we all,” Sir Taber muttered.
Chapter Nine
Bright sunlight burned his eyelids. Slowly, he opened them, groaned at the pain in his head. Where was he? Slowly things came back.
The savages. The dancing. The darkness that ate at his soul bit by bit until he didn’t know if the screams in his head were his imagination, memories, or him. The harvest. The rain. Escape.
He smiled and carefully sat up, wincing slightly. Blinking against the light of day, he looked around. A river raft. The logs beneath him lolled. A dirty muslin sail snapped in the breeze, carrying him even faster down the flooded river. Mud and water filled the air, potent, heavy.
“Monsieur Regard,” a voice said.
He turned saw three men. One of them turned to him.
“You are awake. Good. Worried you might die on us.” This voice was hardened, sharp yet full and rich. The words lengthened, rounded with the thick of the South.
“Dug you out of the river yesterday. Half dead you was.”
He only nodded. “God will bless you, Mister…Regard? Is it?”
“Yes. I run the river. Get my skins and trade whatever fits my fancy.”
Oh. One of those. Well, he would not complain. God worked in mysterious ways.
“Where were you headed? Floating on that log?”
For a moment, he studied the passing landscape, the banks that still held the swollen waters. They would take him back.
“Home. I’m going home.”
“And that would be?”
“Maryland. I’m a minister in Maryland.”
The man spit a long stream of brown spittle. “I’ve no use for ministers, preachers, or vicars, but I’ll get you to a place where you can find your way home.”
Righteousness burned hot in him. “Everyone has need of the Lord.”
Mister Regard nodded. “That I know, that I’ll agree on. Never said I didn’t have use for the Lord.” He genuflected.
A papist.
Eyes as muddy as the river stared straight at him. “Just said I had no use for men such as yourself.”
The old anger grew. He drew himself up. “And first God has appointed the apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles… I am a teacher of His Word, His Law, His Gospel.” He trailed off. Doubtful the man knew The Word.
A smirk lifted Mr. Regard’s mustache. “James wrote that not many of you should presume to be teachers, because you will be judged more strictly.”
Chapter Ten
“Have a nice time, dears,” Lady Redgrave said, waving to Emily then smiling at him.
Emily shook her head. “But I don’t see why Joy cannot ride in the same carriage as us.” She motioned to Jason. “He is after all her father.”
Aunt Elsie, standing with Lady Redgrave, shook her head. “No, no. You two young people should get to know each other better. We’ll be right behind you.”
Jason thought perhaps they were overplaying it a bit. Not that he cared in the least and she was a widow so it wasn’t as if they needed a chaperone. He smiled. They were all traveling to Kent. Emily’s uncle Douglas sent word not an hour ago that Caroline, Douglas’s wife and Jason’s sister, was in labor. The Redgrave heir was about to arrive.
So everyone was off to Kent. Or rather everyone was seeing them off.
“I swear your aunt and my grandmother are playing matchmaker,” Emily mumbled shifting again in the carriage seat.
“Yes, rather like a bad Greek chorus.”
She twisted her gloves between her hands. Jason, content to watch her, said nothing more. They rode for almost an hour with the conversation at a bare minimum. Emily watched the countryside.
“Emily,” he said, sitting forward.
“Yes?”
He looked at her eyes, slightly narrowed at the corners, the way the skin creased between her brows as she slightly frowned. The way her lips disappeared as she pulled them in, only to burst back with color as she released them.
His gaze shot back to her eyes. He reached over and took her hands, noticing they were cool. “The other night when I brought you home, you told me something.”
“Yes?” she asked, her gaze dropping to his lips.
Jason leaned closer, his hands still holding hers. “Are you afraid of me?”
One brow rose. “No.”
“Good.”
Watching her eyes, he moved closer and closer still, stopping a breath from her lips. He watched the pulse beat in her throat, saw the curiosity in her eyes. “I’m going to kiss you.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “You are?” she whispered.
“Yes.” He smiled, as his lips closed over hers.
Emily gasped at the feel of his warm lips on hers. They were soft, undemanding, gentle. She pulled back, looked at his lips, then at him. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back in, covered his mouth with hers.
The voice from her past tried to whisper through, “Harlot! Whore! Wantonness is a wide path to hell.” She shoved the thoughts away.
Jason held her hand
s, pressed his lips more firmly to hers. Butterflies danced in her stomach, a riot of emotions, demanding to be freed. She didn’t know what to do, what to feel, how to act. He traced her bottom lip with his tongue. Emily opened her lips, shivered as he probed, ran his tongue against her teeth. The butterflies became flames, dancing and licking at her middle, consuming her.
The fires of hell consume the wicked!
Emily jerked back, put her hand to her mouth.
Jason’s look never wavered from her face. He tilted his head, reached up, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Did I frighten you?” His deep baritone voice wrapped around her, calmed her as it always did.
She shook her head. Why did that kiss feel so wonderful, feel so incredibly right? What if Theo and her father… No! No! They were not right. She would not, not ever allow them to be right.
She was not a whore.
His brow furrowed, though the hand still holding hers tightened before his fingers caressed her palm. “I didn’t mean to disconcert you so. I thought you enjoyed the kiss.”
How to explain it to him when she couldn’t even explain things to herself. Yes, she liked the kiss, but was she supposed to? She didn’t know. She had been taught all her life that kind of behavior was evil and wicked.
But was it really?
They had been wrong about so many other things, perhaps they were wrong about this as well. She needed someone to ask, but she didn’t know who. Maybe Rayne. Yes, she would ask Rayne. Of course. She could just picture her uncle’s face were she to ask how she should react to Jason’s kiss. Maybe…
“I liked the kiss, but… Perhaps I owe you an apology. I realize I…”
“What?” he asked sharply. “Let me rephrase. For what are you apologizing?”
“My behavior. I realize I shouldn’t have been so…so…so brazen or bold. I apologize if I offended you. I’ve never…”
He growled.
Emily sat back, though he didn’t release her hand.
“You didn’t offend me, Emily, and I never, for even a moment, thought you were being bold or brazen.” While making this remark, Jason leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He was inches away from her again.
“You didn’t?”
His gaze caressed her face. “I thoroughly enjoyed our kiss.” He whispered, his voice caressing over her. “Just as you did, Emily.”
Her heart raced. “How do you know?”
“Let me show you.” He reached across to her, his hand sliding past her jaw, past her ear, sending shivers down her spine. His fingers were cool on the nape of her neck as he pulled her toward him. As their lips touched, the last thought across Emily’s scattered mind was here go the butterflies again.
This kiss was just as thrilling as the last, yet there was something different about it. Jason was just as gentle as he had been before, yet she sensed that he was keeping something back—barely. Tension pulsated off of him. Part of her wanted to know what it was he controlled. Something warned her not to test those waters yet. When his tongue slipped to touch hers, she tentatively returned the play.
Jason pulled abruptly away, leaving her once again dazed. What had she done wrong?
“Good God!” he muttered. “We can’t keep doing this. These sorts of things lead to others, albeit more pleasurable things. However, you’re not some dock side…” He trailed off, raked his hand through his dark hair. “Or even some widow for a brief affair and the Good Lord knows I’ve had plenty of both. You’re a woman of a high-standing family.”
Emily didn’t know what Jason was talking about, let alone thinking, but the look on his face said it was serious. His words made little sense to her. Did he enjoy this last kiss as much as she had? He had proved his point. Yes, she had enjoyed this one just as much, if not more than she had the previous one. How did he know that about her? Was it in the way she kissed him?
Or maybe Theodore was right. No. No. No. She was not going to think about him now, or later, for that matter. Although how could she not, considering she was about to arrive at the birth of a child.
A child…
An old pain slid through her, still sharp and clawed. With a sigh, she shook her head, forcing the avalanche of oncoming thoughts to remain at bay.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She picked at her skirt, then stilled her hands.
After a moment, he said, “I did not mean to offend you.”
That’s what he thought? Emily looked back and saw the confusion on his face, the intense stare. “You didn’t offend me. It’s not about you.”
His brows rose. “Then what is it about?”
Her stomach growled and she felt herself blush. Reaching into the basket Cook had provided them, Emily pulled out an apple. She offered it to him, but he shook his head.
Just as she sank her teeth into the fruit, he said, “I must confess, I’ve wondered what your life was like before you moved here. What kind of man you were married to.” His voice had lowered, hardened.
She blinked, her heart skipping at his words.
He continued. “I find I can’t quite get away from that, for some reason. And the thoughts leave a bad taste in my mouth.”
Did he know something? Surely not.
Those blue eyes stripped her defenses away.
“You won’t answer my questions, will you?” His gaze narrowed and he said very quietly, “Sometimes your quietness and control irritate as much as intrigue.”
She looked down at the apple with a bite missing.
“Emily, do you consider me your friend?”
“Yes, of course.” She sighed. “You are one of the few people I feel I could trust.”
“Could trust,” he muttered. “I suppose we must start somewhere,” he said dryly. “You don’t like to discuss your past very much, do you?”
The pregnant question hung in the air between them.
For wont of anything else to say or do, she bit back into the apple.
Jason watched Emily eat the fruit. A very mundane thing, eating an apple. However, somehow, unknown to him, she made it uncomfortably seductive. With every bite of the apple, he could feel desire rushing through his veins. When the juice started to run out the corner of her mouth, he couldn’t help but notice her tongue dart out to catch the escaping nectar. Lust hit him hard. He wanted her here. He wanted her now. And he knew he would just have to rein in every ounce of control that he possessed. Then he noticed the tiny zigzagged scar on her top lip again. He wondered how he had forgotten about it. Like his own, it was rather noticeable, or perhaps it was the lighting. How she had come by such a mark? At that moment, he didn’t care. He found he only wanted to kiss it. Again.
As if feeling his stare, Emily looked at him, from the corner of her eye. He watched her chest rise and fall, the pulse at the base of her throat beat wildly.
“Dare I inquire as to what you are thinking?” she asked.
“You might, if you really want to know.” Would she want to know, and if she did, how would she react?
“Hmm. That sounds ominous. Perhaps I should wait until some rainy day to explore that rakish mind of yours.” She took another bite of the damn apple.
“There are more interesting things to do on rainy days than to ‘explore my rakish mind’ as you put it.” Leaning forward he couldn’t help but ask, “Care to find out what those things are?”
Narrowing her eyes, she stated, “I don’t think so.”
“Pity. It would have made such delightful conversation, amongst other things.”
“For certain.” Her eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter.
Good. The shadows were gone. He didn’t like the darkness that had shifted in her eyes earlier.
“What are you thinking about, and a ‘nothing’ is not going to suffice, m’dear.”
For a moment, she looked shocked. Then with a shake of her head, she said, “Well, I wanted to ask you something, but felt I could not.”
“Why
not? I hardly think of myself as an ogre. Ask away.”
“I cannot. I would feel like a hypocrite.”
“Ah.” Perfect. “You want to discuss my past. Hmm. This could be interesting. I will make you a deal. You may ask me any question you want, and if I can comfortably answer it, then I will. You must grant me the same courtesy.”
He could see she was trying to decide whether or not this would be an acceptable arrangement. Finally, nodding she agreed.
“Wonderful, we’ve a couple more hours to go. Although, let us raise the stakes a bit. If one of us doesn’t answer the other, then the questioner gets to ask a favor of the questionee. Agreed?”
“What sort of favors?” she shrewdly asked.
He grinned.
Emily waited for his answer.
His grin was devilishly wicked. “I’ve no idea, perhaps they will come to us though.”
She shot him a look, wondering if she should take this chance.
He added, “Nothing untoward, I promise.”
She sighed. “It’s not as we’ve anything better to do.”
“Come, come. Besides this ought to pass the time nicely. You first.”
“Why have you not already married?”
Leaning back, he shook his head, “I didn’t think I’d met the right woman.”
“You didn’t think? But now you think you might have?” He was confusing, although considering the marriages of her parents, and her own, she could very well understand one’s reluctance to tie the nuptial knot.
“I feel very strongly that I have met my future wife.”
A quick stab of disappointment hit Emily surprisingly hard. “She’s a very fortunate woman.” Good manners never failed Emily. She had been through too much to let others see how some things affected her. Not that his having found a wife should affect her. Though come to think of it, why in the world was the man kissing her if he’d found his bride?
Jason’s gaze narrowed on her and she looked down to her lap.
“Does that upset you? My having found my marchioness?” he asked.
“Of course not. Why should it? You must get married and beget heirs and all of that.” She hoped Jason didn’t notice the tartness edging her words. “Though, I should tell you, I will not be kissing you anymore. It is not at all the done thing to kiss one woman when you know you’re about to marry another.”