The Dream

by Jaycee Clark

  Laughing he continued. “Honestly, I never really understood it.” His gaze ran over her face, wondered at what he saw in her eyes. “Until you. I don’t want you beneath me…” Well. “That is, not in the way you mean.” Jason smiled and kissed her wrists. “But I will protect you with my life.”

  For the longest time she only studied him in silence. Then reaching back up, she cupped his face in her small hand. “I’m bound to react sometimes. Just react. I often do things out of habit.”

  He set his hand over hers to hold it to his jaw. “Then I’ll help you break them.”

  “I don’t know anything about love,” she said on one of her half-smiles.

  “I believe I previously informed you that I’d teach you all about it.”

  He could all but hear her walls crumbling.

  “Sometimes I have nightmares and wake up thinking I’m still there.” Vulnerability shifted through the dark brown of her eyes. “Still with him.”

  Ah, this woman was breaking his heart. “I’ll hold you so that you know where you are now, and where I’ll never allow you to be again.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered brokenly.

  Jason wanted to shake her, tell her it was the other way around. Instead, he kissed her brow and muttered, “But think of how wonderfully satisfying your new position will be. How envious. Women who only worry about their gowns and gossip will be utterly distraught.”

  A smile twitched her lips. “Never serious.”

  “I am now. Will you marry me?”

  She sighed. “I’ve decided you’re not only arrogant, you give the word ‘determined’ a whole new meaning.”

  He chuckled. “Did I not share with you the family motto?”

  She shook her head.

  “Through perseverance victory shall be obtained.”

  She muttered something he didn’t quite catch, leaning to rest her head on his shoulder.

  Her hair was soft beneath his jaw. He wrapped an arm around her. “Emily.”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’re supposed to say yes.” The morning fog had lifted and the day seemed to tease for sunshine.

  “Am I?”

  He heard the smile in her voice. “Yes.”

  “I thought that was my line,” she said.

  “It is,” he bit out.

  “What is?” she giggled.

  He pulled back, cupped her face in his hands. “Are you going to answer me?”

  Her lips curved. “What was the question again?”

  Minx. “Will. You. Marry. Me?”

  Her eyes widened. “Well, said that way, so very pleasantly, what can I possibly say.” She sighed.

  Maybe he would strangle her.

  “I suppose,” she said flippantly. “Though I still don’t see why.”

  He jerked her to him. Stopping just short of kissing her, he promised, “Don’t worry. I’ll show you on our wedding night.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Today she’d been married. Emily smiled, thinking of the ceremony. She ran a hand down her creamy beige gown, the silk sliding beneath her fingers. The sapphire pendant her grandfather had given her right before the ceremony hung heavy around her neck. It matched the dark blue stone of her wedding ring. Her smile grew as she watched the late daylight flicker across the faceted surface. The stone of her ring was as large as her thumbnail. She prayed she wouldn’t lose the ring.

  The wedding had gone smoothly enough. And though she knew Jason and was willing to put her trust in him, nerves still skittered from past memories and what could be if things went bad.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he drummed those long elegant fingers on his cream satin breeches and waistcoat shot with golden thread. The light color of his clothing contrasted with his swarthy complexion and the jet black of his hair.

  “Are you warm enough?” His deep baritone voice floated over her, like warm velvet over chilled skin.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  The sun was low in the sky when they reached Ravenscrest Abbey.

  Ravenscrest.

  Home. She’d never really had a home before, but this place still took her breath away as it did simply thinking about it. The magnificent old structure sat on the downward slope of hillside to the east of the old ruins of the ancient monastery. As they passed the last tree, she studied the ruins off to the west. Set amongst the evening weather, the ancient dwelling seemed to eerily stretch toward the sky, forgotten black skeletons against the brilliance of the flaming sky. It was both fascinatingly beautiful and hauntingly lonely.

  But it was the house, always the house that drew her attention. Jason knew the history of the immense home, but to her it was simply very old and very, very, large. Old and new wove seamlessly together, the stitches of age barely scarring the façade where one lord added his legacy onto the estate. Perfectly manicured lawns and gardens surrounded the house, trees replacing the sentinels that must have certainly guarded the place in centuries past. There was something indefinable about this place, something that tugged at her soul as it had the first time she stayed here.

  Whatever the elusive feeling was, she liked it.

  Turning toward her husband, she confessed, “I missed this.”

  “Did you?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes, I think I did. You have a beautiful estate.”

  He dropped his chin just a fraction, his eyes narrowing. “We.”

  “What?”

  Jason leaned over and cupped her chin. “We, darling Emmy, have a beautiful estate.”

  She smiled, something warm spreading inside her. “We.”

  “That’s better.”

  “I never got a chance to check the ruins before.”

  “No, nor would I have let you. Memory seems to recall that you were slightly ill.” His gaze narrowed on her again.

  She only grinned more and asked, “Could we go look at the ruins?”

  “No. It will be dark soon. The ruins are not the safest place during daylight, let alone after nightfall. Perhaps you can wait for another time.” His grin was lazy and devilishly wicked. “Besides, there are other things I had imagined showing my wife on our wedding night than some crumbling old stones.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, his lips on her face sending chills down her spine. In her ear, he softly said, “You will just have to suffice with my humble self this evening. I realize I am nothing compared to crumbling stone, but at least I won’t cave in on top of your pretty head.”

  Emily realized he was right and chuckled. The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the steps leading up to the double front doors.

  “Humble?” she asked. “Did you say? There is not a humble bone in your body.”

  Jason alighted from the carriage and held her hand, helping her down.

  “Humble,” she continued, “is not a word that comes to mind when thinking of you.”

  The servants were all lined along the steps and front portico.

  “True,” he said, still holding her hand as she started up the steps. “I’m charmingly charismatic. Wantonly wonderful. Incredibly irresistible. Or is it incredibly insatiable? Never mind, either will do. Especially tonight,” he added with a wiggle of his dark brows.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of arrogantly absorbed, vexingly vain, and lamentably lecherous.”

  Quick as lightning that devastating smile flashed across his face. “Oh, I like lamentably lecherous. Indeed, I do.”

  Emily gave him a small, unproductive push and tried to free her hand. “You are so impossible.”

  Jason chuckled. “Ah Emmy, you do please me.” He leaned down and kissed her, a gentle press of his lips on hers, but she knew him well enough that she hoped he wouldn’t stop there. He didn’t. When she parted her lips, he moaned. Emily wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled against his mouth. He made her feel so alive that she would have been happy to stand here and kiss him all night. However, a discreet clear
ing of a throat penetrated her thoughts. She whirled as Jason jerked his head up. Grims stood glaring at his master. She didn’t know if it were amusing or shaming. Jason only narrowed a look back and squeezed her shoulder.

  Emily was ready to rush into the house where it was warm, but the servants were all lined up.

  Jason’s hand on her arm reassured. “You all remember Lady Ravensworth. As my wife, I’m certain you will treat her as her ladyship should be treated.”

  Warnings swirled through his words, but she couldn’t understand why or how he would be warning his staff. Shrugging her shoulders, she smiled at all the servants. Mrs. Meddows, the housekeeper, she remembered.

  The woman curtsied. “We are so happy, my lady. So happy he has married you.” The rotund woman still reminded her of Mrs. Boyle, the new minister’s wife from back in Maryland. Sweet and smiling, but bossy and no-nonsense at the same time.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Meddows.”

  “If you need anything, your ladyship, anything at all,” she said, bobbing her head.

  Emily smiled and started to cross the threshold, wanting to laugh at Grims’ very serious bow.

  At the door, Jason grabbed her arm.

  “Not so fast, m’dear.” He swooped her up and carried her, laughing over the threshold and into their home.

  “You are impossible,” she said on a laugh.

  “Well, I do try.” He smiled down at her. “Traditions and all that, don’t you know.”

  “As if that would make a difference to you.”

  In the entry, the black and white tiles gleaming, he said, “There is something very satisfying when your voice mixes with your laughter.”

  His eyes locked to her mouth.

  Emily knew what he planned. Licking her lips, she met him halfway as he leaned down toward her. The kiss, soft and sweet, yet possessive, reminded her of the one at the ceremony. It left her wanting more.

  He grinned. “Soon, Emmy dear.”

  Emmy. He’d taken to calling her that, though she knew not why or even when precisely. Since she liked it, Emily didn’t ask any question, just understood that it made her heart smile.

  Still carrying her, he turned and inquired, “Have my instructions been seen to, Grims? Very good. Oh, and have breakfast delivered upstairs tomorrow morning. I’ll ring.”

  Jason hurried up the stairs and down the hallway to the master’s suite. Even with her in his arms he had no trouble opening the door and then shutting it with his heel.

  Gently, he set her on her feet.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, his voice low.

  “No.”

  “You are lovely in that gown.” He eased closer to her, his hand warm on the small of her back, his fingers stretching across the material, then scraping back to her backbone. She shivered.

  “I almost swallowed my tongue the moment I saw you walk into the drawing room. I could hardly concentrate on what the vicar was saying for the fact that you were distracting me.”

  “Really?” she asked, not certain she believed him, or if he were trying to calm her. He was very good at reading her.

  “Hmmm.”

  She turned and walked to the fireplace. The room wasn’t exactly cold, but the action gave her something to do. She looked from him to that giant four poster bed. The silk hangings were still as deep blue as the sky at midnight. On the dark counterpane lay flower petals of white, yellow, orange and red. Petals on a bed?

  The sight so distracted her, she didn’t realize Jason had moved until he stood behind her. Instinctively she stiffened as he set his hands on her shoulders.

  The bed, though beautiful, made her stomach twist. But she’d survived the marriage act countless times before, she would again. Besides, it wasn’t preformed all that often anyway, a couple of times a week until she conceived. Still, nervousness thrummed through her.

  “What?” he whispered, his breath hot on her ear. “I wonder, what are you thinking?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “You can’t lie.” Amusement lulled words. Gently, he squeezed her shoulders.

  She glanced at the bed and took a deep breath.

  “Emmy,” he turned her to him.

  The single word was like a bucket of cold water on her, shocking her back to who she was now.

  She leaned up and touched his face. “’Tis nothing.” When he didn’t smile, she glanced away from those blue, blue eyes. “I’m a little nervous.”

  “Of?”

  She looked back at the bed.

  “Are you afraid of me?”

  “No.”

  “Do you trust me?” He continued to rub her tight neck. “Not to hurt you?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes narrowed, seemed to see all the way into the deepest part of her soul. Finally, he must have been satisfied with what he saw, because he turned and sat in one of the chairs flanking the fireplace. “Sit here in front of me.” He pulled a pillow out from behind him and tossed it on the floor between his feet.

  Emily looked at him, wondered what he was thinking now. She let go of his hand and sat on the pillow between his legs. What did he want?

  His fingers settled on her scalp and started to remove the pins.

  “Just relax, Emmy,” he said. One by one, he set the pins on the small side table beside the chair. “You like to kiss me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Jason.” If it were just the kissing she’d be fine.

  “The rest is even better than the kissing.”

  She didn’t say anything, just leaned back into his fingers as they messaged her scalp.

  “Your hair is so soft,” he muttered.

  Tensions started to ease out of her, as if he were pulling them out with the simple movements of his hands.

  “You know, Emmy.” His voice was quiet. A log popped in the grate.

  She could smell the spice of his cologne and it relaxed her, yet excited her at the same time. Sighing, she leaned her head back to rest on the cushion of the seat between his thighs.

  “I think everything about marriage depends on the ones in the marriage, don’t you?”

  It took a minute for his words to penetrate. “What?”

  She opened her eyes. His face was inverted above her. His eyes burned with some inner fire as he studied her. Jason removed the distance between them and kissed her again. However, unlike the others, this kiss scattered every thought from her head. He pulled away from her mouth and set his lips to her eyelids, her cheek bones, the tip of her nose, and finally her mouth. Without his asking, she opened and yielded beneath him. Wanting more, she turned until she was on her knees facing him, kissing him as passionately as he was her.

  His hands plunged into her hair holding her still for his conquest. She reveled in his power and the knowledge he didn’t—wouldn’t—use it against her. The kiss soon turned demanding, but for what she didn’t know. As his mouth heated and promised, she softened.

  Emily wanted to touch him, but didn’t know if she should. However, passion took control and she didn’t realize she had placed her hands on his thighs until he gasped against her mouth.

  “Good God, woman, you’re killing me. If I don’t get you out of that lovely gown, and quite quickly, I’m afraid I will embarrass myself and take you here on the floor with that gown still on.”

  Such talk would have scared her before, but with Jason she only smiled. He wasn’t the only one with power. Experimenting, she rubbed her hands along his satin-encased thighs. Muscles tightened beneath her hands.

  Finally, he pulled away. “Emily, you must stop this.”

  “Don’t you want me to touch you?”

  Clearly surprised, he laughed. “My sweet, if you touch me anymore I won’t be able to control the outcome. I want this to be perfect. For you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Come, stand so we can get you out of this dress.”

  Emily stood, facing him as he kissed her and started to unbutton the endless row of tiny pearl buttons down the back o
f her gown, his fingers grazing her back as he opened the gown further.

  He kissed her throat, and her shoulders as the silk slipped free and fell to a pool at her feet.

  Emily, lost in a swirl of passion, pulled away as cold air replaced the silk of her gown. How had he removed her stays and petticoats without her realizing it? Her chemise was all that hid her from him. She asked, “Could we put out the lights?”

  Put out the lights?

  Jason looked at her bent head, her hair a cascade of light brown and dark blonde around her shoulders.

  “Why?” he asked carefully.

  She only shrugged.

  He sighed, put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed.

  “Please?”

  He wanted to give her this, but he wanted an answer first.

  “Why? You’re beautiful, Emily. I want to see you. Every little inch of you.” As he said the words, a thought struck him, but he said nothing of it. He started to lower his head for a kiss.

  “I’m not beautiful, Jason,” she whispered.

  “And why,” he asked, drawing circles along the column of her neck, “don’t you think you are beautiful? I’m considered somewhat of an expert here, you know.”

  He’d said the last in hopes to see her smile, but she only continued to stare at her toes.

  Jason followed her gaze. “Even your toes are lovely. No wonder you’re staring at them. And here I thought there wasn’t a vain bone in your body.”

  “You don’t have to lie. I’m ugly, Jason.”

  Frowning down at her bent head, he was at a loss. Her words made the anger churn to the surface again, but he shoved it away. He took a deep breath and prayed to put her at ease.

  “Ugly? May I ask why my wife believes herself to be ugly?”