by Jo Goodman
"I suspect I am explaining this very badly. We are going to New York. To Manhattan Island. It is only a ten day ride from here, but we will take the Caroline for your comfort."
Bewildered, Ashley turned to face Salem. She grimaced at her swollen belly for making the movement so difficult and then keeping her from getting closer to her husband. "Yes," she said, mostly to herself. "I am certainly planning on having some babies. Now, Salem, perhaps a better question would be: Why are we going to New York?"
"Because Washington says the British will go there after they vacate Boston."
"The general is confident as well as prescient," she mocked softly.
"He is both those things."
"Let us say he managed to push the British out of Boston. How does he know they'll go to New York?"
"It's the logical choice. New York is richly populated with Loyalists. Her harbors and inlets make it easy for troops to land. The Hudson River is a natural boundary, cutting off the southern Colonies. And one more important consideration: Lord Howe will look for diverting entertainment, and New York can provide it His favor will be courted. You can be certain the city will be rife with galas."
"You jest," she said.
"About the last? I hope not. It is precisely the diversions that lead to the most interesting bits of information."
"But how can you hope to be included at such affairs? Your family is well known for its politics. No one would believe you to be a Loyalist."
"As Smith was so quick to point out, it is my family who is noted for their politics. I have rarely been vocal about my leanings, and those who know me well will know my role is one of Smith's schemes. This rebellion has split families. Franklin's own son is a fierce supporter of the crown. It would not be surprising that I choose to break with my family over this." He sighed heavily, his eyes grave as he studied her face. What he had yet to say he dreaded the most. "But there is one more reason people will believe I am a Loyalist." And so he told her about Nigel's guiding hand in his affairs.
"It could be a trap," she said softly.
"I am sure it is, but knowing that will keep me watchful."
"Are you afraid?"
"Some for myself. Mostly for you."
Ashley's slim fingers traced the hard line of his chin. "D'you know that I would have raised the roof if you had decided not to take me along, yet it is what I would have expected your decision to be."
He laughed and kissed her fingers, one by one. "If I left the landing on my own, we would have had a terrible row, and I would have worried endlessly that you were following."
She nodded, genuinely pleased he had not underestimated her.
"And if I hadn't confronted you this evening," she said, "when would you have told me about our move?"
He looked endearingly shamefaced. "Actually, I was working up to it. I believe I could have given you a few hours' warning."
"You're an awful tease, Jerusalem McClellan." She chucked him on the chin. "I am hardly of a size to be so threatening to you."
He looked surprised. "The threat is only that I may lose you."
"That is not within the realm of possibilities." Ashley's smile was wicked, a feminine version of the one he so often used to snare her. "And if we could retire to our chamber I should be delighted to remind you of one of the reasons that is so."
"Madam, I am ever at your command."
"Salem! Don't pick me up! Your children weigh a stone!"
He was not deterred. "If you can carry them, then so can I."
Ashley gave in gracefully, wrapping her arms about his neck. She laughed at him as he made a great show of staggering up the stairs.
"I shouldn't doubt the entire house heard us," she said when he dropped her on their bed.
"If they have any sense they'll know you bearded the lion and have him safely in hand." He lighted the bedside candles.
Ashley tugged at her loose-fitting blouse. "You have been a bit fierce lately. But I never wanted to tame you. I like you best when you're—unpredictable."
Once her clothes were cast aside she all but dived under the thick blankets. Since they were so late in coming to bed, the fire laid for them had died. The temperature outside was unseasonably cold. Salem watched her curl beneath the down-filled comforter with some amusement. "That's right, you warm the covers for me." He went to the hearth and stoked the miserably small flames.
Ashley's teeth chattered. "Beast. Get undressed and come in here. Never say you have forgotten where everything is. I didn't think you had to see it to fondle it."
Salem gave a shout of laughter at her audacity, dropped the poker and advanced on the bed, erotic menace in his eyes. Ashley pulled the comforter over her head.
"Come out from under there. I know you're blushing!"
"I'm not!" Her reply was muffled.
Salem stripped out of his things and tossed them on a chair. When he was naked, he snuffed out the candles and jumped into the bed, pulling Ashley's curved back against his chest. Unerringly his hands slipped around and cupped her breasts. "You are blushing! You're warm all over."
"A lot you know. Your hands are like ice." Her hand crept behind her and pinched his buttocks. "Warm me, you rogue."
He started at her shoulders, rubbing her prickly flesh with his palms. While his hands drifted down her narrow back his feet massaged her legs. In the beginning there was some doubt in Ashley's mind as to who warmed whom. Gradually they exchanged body heat until she felt toasty and contented. Battling sleep, she snuggled deeper into the curve of his body, her eyes closing as Salem's hands became more gentle and signaled a different intent. He really was the most loving man, she thought, fighting a yawn. He really was.
Salem held his sleeping wife close to his breast. His heart thudded warmly against her silky back. His arm was numb and his position most uncomfortable, but he could not bring himself to move. When he carried Ashley up the stairs he had envisioned a very different sort of loving, yet what he experienced now was uniquely fulfilling and he could not regret her falling asleep. Ashley gave so tirelessly of herself that he needed this time to return the giving, even if it was only to warm her and provide a shoulder for her pillow.
He buried his mouth in her soft hair and heard the faint whisper of her steady breathing. She felt small next to him, fragile and vulnerable, yet he knew there was a core of strength. When she set out to right a wrong, she was something to behold.
He'd never forget her impassioned plea to end slavery at the landing or the cool September evening she had cried like a babe in his arms when he told her it had been done. She never doubted he would make his father see reason, she had said. She had never lost faith in the McClellans to do right by the principles they espoused. It had hardly seemed right that she should love him for simply doing what needed to be done. He placed a tender kiss on her soft ebony hair.
The sweet odor of steaming chocolate drifted by Ashley's nose as she awakened. It was nearly as tantalizing as the tiny, tasting kisses being placed all over her face. The bedchamber no longer had any of the chill of the previous evening, and Ashley thought the blankets were something of nuisance. Without opening her eyes she stretched lazily beneath the large body that was hovering over her. The comforter slipped over her bare shoulders, and her breasts emerged invitingly. Her smile was one of supreme satisfaction when she heard her husband put aside the cup of hot chocolate.
Salem's lips touched her mouth, and Ashley's arms wrapped loosely around his neck as she accepted his little nibbling kisses. Her fingers ruffled the back of his hair and stroked his neck.
"I think this is a lovely way to wake up," she murmured against his mouth.
"You'll get no argument from me."
Her hand slipped under the collar of his dressing gown and massaged his bare flesh. One eye opened to study his face. "You shouldn't go to the kitchen without putting on your nightshirt," she scolded. "What would Tildy say?"
"She said I was going to catch my death in the updraft if I didn't start wearing o
ne soon. For myself, I thought the robe was sufficient."
"That's because you are shameless."
His lips slid along her neck and his tongue flicked at the hollow of her throat. "Do you want to catalogue my every fault or would you like to make love?" When she paused, pretending to think her choices over, Salem pinched her gently on the thigh. "Never mind. You don't have a say in it anymore."
At first he was playful, teasing Ashley with light kisses and tickling fingers. When her response became hungrier, demanding more from him, he complied with a touch that spoke of his own appetite. Throwing back the covers and shrugging out of his robe, he watched Ashley's eyes lose most of their emerald color as they betrayed her desire. His hands caressed her less gently, forcing her to feel the strength of his passion. She answered with nails that lightly scored the taut flesh of his back.
Salem's mouth tugged on the coral tips of her breasts, eliciting a gasp of sheer pleasure. His lips traveled lower, paying homage to her generously rounded abdomen.
"Are you certain this is all right?" he asked, kissing her navel.
"Salem." She laughed huskily. "We haven't done anything yet."
His palm stroked her belly. "But we are nicely leading up to it."
Ashley pushed herself upright and brought his face up to hers. "Yes, we are. And I wish we would get on with it." Every word was accented by a kiss.
Salem was not proof against such an eloquent plea, and he allowed himself to be drawn down on the bed, this time with Ashley hovering. His dark brows lifted in pleased surprise as she straddled his hips. Her hands massaged his chest and the taut plane of his stomach. Beneath her she could feel the effect of her loving ministrations as Salem shifted, rubbing against her in a most provocative manner. She leaned forward slightly while she offered Salem her breasts. She bit her lip and her eyes closed momentarily when he cupped them in his warm palms. She felt her flesh swell and harden.
Her voice was a throaty whisper, infinitely pleasing to Salem's ears. "I have been giving some thought to this," she said, watching her husband's expression carefully. "And it seems to me we ought to be able to manage quite nicely in this position."
Salem's fingers stroked her sensitive crests and he smiled wickedly. "What weighty matters occupy your mind," he said, twisting a little under her. His hands fell away from her breasts and down to her hips where he guided her onto his erect manhood. He loved watching her enchanted face as she slowly filled herself and sheathed him in her silky heat.
Apparently she had given the arrangement some thought but hadn't anticipated how pleasurable it would be. Affection for her welled up in Salem's breast as they experimented with the rhythm that would bring them the most delight. He felt her satisfaction first, as her body quivered above him and contracted in a spasm of sensual gratification, then his own flesh caught her fiery response and he gave in to the completeness of his pleasure.
Ashley shared a pillow with Salem afterward but, rather than look at him, her eyes were downcast, and she pretended great interest in the embroidered edge of the comforter that covered their perspiring bodies.
"Ashley, what is going on inside your head? I somehow doubt that you are considering some new love position."
She was genuinely distressed. "Don't tease. I behaved so—so—wantonly."
Frowning, Salem took her by the shoulders and gave her a shake that brought her head up. "I thoroughly enjoyed your inventiveness. Will you tell me now I am wrong to take pleasure in a wife who is so passionate?" She shook her head, her hair falling in a silky curtain over one cheek. "Good, because I cannot stop myself." He brushed aside her hair but left his fingers buried in the tangled strands. His grin coaxed a smile in return. "Now give over. When did you think of such a lusty pastime? When you were playing the harpsichord or doing your stitchery?"
"I shan't tell you, else you will wonder if my mind is always so occupied."
"I've hit on it. You have missed your morning ride on King these past weeks, and that thought quite naturally led to another." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Ashley laughed.
"No, you fool. I don't think of you as my stallion." He looked so crestfallen that Ashley kissed him soundly to soothe his bruised pride. "Now, will you let the matter rest?"
"No."
"I thought not. Oh, very well. It occurred to me while I was bathing and I couldn't get comfortably settled in the tub. I began to think of other things that had become uncomfortable of late."
Salem's brows nearly fused above his glittering eyes. "You should have told me that I had been hurting you. I would have left you alone."
"There. D'you hear yourself?" If she had been standing up she would have had her hands on her hips and her left foot would have been tapping double time. "It was only a small discomfort, more of an awkwardness, really, and insignificant in proportion to the pleasure you gave me. I realized things can only get more awkward so I applied myself to thinking of alternate ways we may enjoy one another as long as possible."
Salem fell into a thoughtful silence. His index finger traced her lower lip. "Still, I wish you had told me. It is no hardship to simply cuddle with you. I found last night that I am enormously fond of it."
"I did rather lead you to expect something better when we retired, didn't I?"
"Not better, only different. You more than made up for your lapse this morning."
"Then I can expect you will be interested in my other, er—lusty, alternatives."
His kiss supplied the only answer she needed.
Chapter 11
Christmas morning, several weeks later, a booming cannonade brought Ashley sharply awake. The cannons' roar fairly shook their bedchamber. She nudged Salem's shoulder roughly but his response was only to burrow deeper under the covers.
Without waiting for him to wake she forced her unwieldy body out of bed and stepped quickly to the dressing room. It took a few minutes to find what she was after, but finally, and with great satisfaction, she located the pistol she had put to good use in Newgate in the bottom drawer of the mahogany highboy.
She emerged from the dressing room wearing one of Salem's nightshirts and carrying the pistol in a trembling, two-handed grip. Her hair was in a wild tangle, and her face was flushed with a mixture of excitement and fear. But from where he sat on the bed, mouth slightly parted in astonishment, Salem could appreciate his wife's fierce beauty. If not for her rather rotund middle and the presence of the pistol, she would have looked much as she did on the first night he had seen her. He shook his head, as if to clear the picture she made, but at last he had to admit this was no queer dream he was having.
"Don't sit there gaping at me," she said with some asperity. "Didn't you hear the cannon? The landing must be under siege."
Her words were as bizarre to him as the sight of her. The linen nightshirt she wore was slipping off one shoulder, and the overlong sleeves nearly covered her hands. Her small bare feet were braced apart as she steadied the weapon, but her legs looked too slender to support her burgeoning abdomen. It was only this visible reminder of the late stage of her pregnancy that kept Salem from leaping out of bed and taking Ashley right where she stood.
He laughed. Tears sparkled in his eyes and his shoulders shook. Ashley's obvious bewilderment only fueled his delight. When she stamped her bare foot, demanding an explanation, and stubbed her toes on a stool, Salem had to muffle his merriment in a pillow.
"Well, this is a fine turn of events. I take it very much to heart that you lie abed, laughing at my efforts, while making no attempt to protect your home."
A sharp rap at the bedchamber door brought Ashley's head around while increasing Salem's mirth. "That must be the redcoats." He choked on his laughter. "Damn polite even in the heat of battle." He sat up in bed, yanking the covers around him. "Enter if you are sporting a white flag of truce!" he called out. Rae's much puzzled face peeked around the door. "What ever were you—Ashley! What are you doing with that pistol?" She looked to her brother for an explanation,
but his amusement had rendered him incapable of speech. "Have you and Jerusalem had a falling out?" she asked Ashley. "Are you going to shoot him?"
Ashley lowered her weapon. The sleeves of the shirt fell completely over her hands, and she would have looked charmingly waiflike if it hadn't been for the glowering look she had turned on Salem. "I was just considering it," she said feelingly. "Would you like to watch?"
Rae smiled mischievously. "Oh, yes!" Her auburn curls bounced about her piquant face as she nodded. "I expect I shall marry one day, and it will be important to know how to settle domestic disputes. Now, will you only try to wound him or shall you go for the kill?"
Ashley's lips twitched while Salem scowled at Rae. "I rather think I shall only wound him. You see, he normally does not make light of me, so I suppose I must have done something exceedingly amusing to make him so ill-mannered." She raised the pistol and took careful aim at Salem's shoulder, pulling back the hammer. "You have but a moment to plead your case!"
Salem had gone quite pale. "Ashley, turn the weapon away from me and lower the hammer very slowly."
Ashley was too intent on teasing him in front of his sister to notice his genuine consternation. "Ah! Do you see. Rae? Rather than plead his case, he pleads for his life. At this juncture it is very important to follow through on the original threat, else your husband will think you have no backbone."
Smiling pleasantly, she pulled the trigger.
Salem dove to the floor.
A pistol ball went through the four-poster's headboard, cracked the interior wall, and lodged in the bricks.
Ashley fainted.
Wide-eyed and heart palpitating wildly, Rae decided marriage probably would never suit her.
"What in the name of heaven has happened?" Charity cried out from the doorway. Leah bobbed over her mother's shoulder, trying to get a look in the bedchamber.
Sitting up, Salem grimaced at the bevy of women confronting him and pulled a quilt from the bed to cover himself. "May I be allowed to explain this situation before I am cast in the role of the villain? Rae? Please tell Mother I have not murdered my wife."