by Diana Lloyd
…
Greeting the rising sun with equal measures of dread and anticipation, Oliver resolved to remember his brief time with Jewel with gratitude. She’d slipped into his life by chance, left her mark on his heart, and would now leave with his blessing. They were meant to pass like ships along the channel, and her ship was sailing away today.
The curricle was ready, his two best carriage horses standing by, waiting to be hitched up. The only thing missing was Jewel. Taking another deep breath of the damp morning air, Oliver transferred Jones from his perch on his shoulder to the branch of a pear tree. There was nothing to do but wait.
“Good morning.” Jewel’s voice sounded too happy to his ears. But why shouldn’t she be? She was going home to see her father again.
“Right on time.” Forcing cheerfulness into his voice, Oliver greeted her with a smile. He waved to the stableboy as a signal to hitch up the horses. “I’ll have a footman fetch your trunk.”
“Elvy is supervising the packing now. I came down early to speak with you.” She stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. “It isn’t an easy decision to leave. I still don’t know if I’ve made the right choice.”
“Time will tell.” Judging by her face, she didn’t find any comfort in his words. Neither did he, for time was another enemy. The faster he could get her out of his life, the sooner he could devote his full attention to his own problems. “Johnstone’s hope of riches should keep you and Elvy safe enough as long as you stay in your cabin. Don’t ever be caught on deck without the captain as an escort.”
“I thought of that,” she said, pulling the ribbons of her cap and sliding it off her head to reveal she’d cut her hair. Once-long wavy tresses were now cut short and bound into a stubby queue. “We’re going to disguise ourselves as young men.”
“Men,” he repeated as the notion ricocheted through his head. “Young. Men. Are you mad?” He wouldn’t have been any more shocked if she had said “sheep.”
“On my journey to London, the ship was full of families, but I understand that Elvy and I will be the only passengers on board the Judith. And, more importantly, the only females.” Jewel brushed aside the wayward hairs that fell into her face. “We’ve decided the safest way to travel is to disguise ourselves as men. We’re going to be Jules and Egbert, traveling to the colonies to apprentice ourselves.”
“You intend to masquerade as a man for forty days on a ship full of actual men?” It was pure insanity. If it worked they’d be conscripted into the navy before they left sight of English soil. If their ruse failed they’d be raped or worse.
“We found your old clothes in the attic, and Elvy retailored them. We’ve cut our hair and will lower our voices. If we stick together and keep to ourselves, we’ll just be a couple of unremarkable young men making their way to Boston.”
“You’ll be dead.” Clamping his mouth shut to keep from shouting, Oliver began to pace. “Forty days,” he said, shaking his head. “Other than the rare deaf, dumb, and blind seaman, you’ll fool no one for very long. You even walk like a female.”
“Not in your old boots I don’t,” Jewel shot back, lifting her skirt to reveal a pair of his old riding boots.
“You’ve small, delicate hands.”
“I’ll wear gloves until I can roughen them up.”
“You’ve…” Patting his hands against his chest, Oliver struggled for the least offensive way to point out what he found obvious without using the words lush or full. “Breasts.”
“Bound with strips of linen.”
“And your bottom?”
“What about my bottom?”
“It’s…” He used his hands again to emulate the shape of cupping her behind. “Big,” was the word that finally left his lips.
“I do not have a big bottom!” Jewel poked her finger into his chest as she spoke.
“I didn’t mean big in the sense of large. I meant more…round and…obvious.” Wincing, he knew his explanation was coming out all wrong. “You are a woman and have a woman’s bottom. The first time you bend over in a pair of breeches any man with half an eye will see the truth.”
“The truth of my big bottom?” Arms crossed over her breasts now, Jewel looked angry enough to produce smoke from her ears.
“I’ve never seen it but I’m sure your bottom is lovely. I’m just making a general assumption. What I’m trying to say is that the entirety of you is most definitely female. Your hair is soft and shiny. Your eyebrows form perfect arches to frame your eyes. Your lips…your lower lip is full and has…”—cautiously, he pointed at her lips—“a dimple right in the middle that begs kissing. Unless you’ve also figured out a way to grow a beard, someone will notice the smooth curve of your chin never requires a razor.”
“Was that a compliment or an insult? I’m not sure.” Shaking her head, she took a few steps away.
“Compliment. And a caution. I suggest you abandon your plan of traveling in disguise. I’m giving Johnstone enough money to keep you safe as you are, but I cannot vouch for his able seamen. Stay under Johnstone’s protection. Arm yourselves and keep to your cabin.” It was all the advice he had to give.
“Oliver, you’re giving him the diamonds, aren’t you? If things don’t go well with my father, I may never be able to repay you.”
“How I pay is my concern. Consider it a gift.”
“I can’t accept such a gift.”
“No diamonds, no passage to Boston. What do you want me to say?”
“Ask me to stay.”
“I am no one to be demanding things of you.” His words were so much colder than what he felt in his heart. He wasn’t above begging but would hold on to his dignity as long as he could. If she stayed, it should be because she wanted to, not because of pity.
“You’re not no one. You’re my pretend cousin. My fake fiancé. And, I hope, my true friend. What would you say to a friend?”
“I would advise a friend not to take this journey. I would ask a friend to please stay.” Dammit. He should tell her how much he looked forward to seeing her each day. Unaccustomed as he was to baring his feelings, splaying his heart open for ridicule, it was his last chance to tell her how much he admired her strength and spirit. For, whatever pain it might bring, he needed to know if those feelings were shared. “It’s a dangerous journey under the best of circumstances. With war efforts escalating on both sides, I fear for your safety. I wish you would reconsider.”
“Thank you.” Her smile was small and contemplative. “I would like to stay.” It was an invitation to say more, to speak all the words that had filled his head since the moment he first saw her.
“Would you walk with me?” He glanced back at the house, hoping Elvy and his footmen were engaged in a long, invigorating discussion over which old swatches of cloth she was allowed to pack. “There’s a folly in the garden, a Grecian temple. I go there sometimes at night just to gaze at the stars.” When the grim line of her lips softened, he offered his arm. “Walk with me. We have time.”
The hour was early, and the flowerbeds they passed sparkled with dew in the morning sun. Not being able to appreciate colorful blooms, he failed miserably in his attempts at horticulture. It was enough this morning to see Jewel’s face light up when she bent down to sniff one delicate petal after another as they made their way to the temple.
“It’s a beautiful garden; I should have explored it sooner.”
“There’s no need for you to stay indoors during daylight simply because it is my habit.” He should have thought to bring her here. Women loved flowers. He’d had lessons in Latin, fencing, and even dancing, but no one had ever taught him modern courting rituals. If she was going to stay, he needed to do better.
“It wasn’t because of you. I was afraid my uncle had hired someone to snatch me away. I appreciate the quiet and peace of your household.” With both hands on his arm now, s
he was smiling and leaning against him ever so slightly as they walked.
“You’re staying then?” He needed to hear it before he allowed himself to believe it. “Might I ask what it was that convinced you?”
“I tossed and turned all night. Something didn’t feel right, and I couldn’t put my finger on it until I saw you this morning.” She stopped walking as she spoke, as if the words required all her concentration. “There you were, all alone, everyone around you going about the business of departure, when it struck me that I knew that feeling. That exact sensation of being left behind.”
“I’ll survive.” He didn’t want her pity, he wanted her love. Trying to make his voice light and teasing, as if it wouldn’t hurt, he added, “I still have Jones.”
“Everyone I’ve ever cared for has abandoned me, Oliver. Everyone. My mother traveled the county tending to sick children. I used to think if I pretended to be gravely ill, she would stay home with me. One day she left to treat a child who had a mysterious fever and she never returned. They burned her things and buried her straightaway to keep the fever from spreading. I never got to say goodbye.”
“I’m so sorry.” He’d not given much thought to exactly how she came to be in London without her parents. Her past, like his, colored her present situation. “You must miss her terribly.”
“I do,” she said with a forced smile. “My father worked hard at being a proper parent to me at first, but his radical politics began demanding more and more of his time. He’s a good man, a good father, and yet I felt that once again I was not as important to him as his other interests. That’s when I turned to Eldridge.”
He brushed a tear from her cheek with the tip of a gloved finger. “If this is painful for you, there is no need to continue.”
“I want you to know. Eldridge and I have known each other since birth. His family lived just next door. It was easy to turn to neighbors for help when my father wasn’t around. Everyone had assumed that Eldridge and I would be married one day. Even me. One day, a perfectly normal Tuesday, I was walking down the street and Eldridge fell into step beside me. He told me his affection for me had ceased, as one would comment on the weather. I meant no more to him than an inconvenient rainy day.”
“Step inside,” Oliver said, guiding her by the elbow. “So we can sit and talk.” Once past the Doric columns and under the domed roof, he placed his handkerchief on the old wooden bench and gestured for her to sit. “You didn’t know Eldridge was coming to London?”
“No, but I should have figured it out. All the royalists were leaving. The streets were full of carts and wagons for weeks. It never occurred to me that I should be so unlucky as to be abandoned yet again.”
“It had nothing to do with you.”
“That’s what everyone says. My mother’s death, my father’s neglect, Eldridge’s escape, and my aunt’s betrayal—I was treated as an inconsequential observer.”
“To me, you are a formidable force to be reckoned with.”
“You make me sound epic,” she said, resting her head back against his shoulder. “The sad point is, I was prepared to abandon you before you had a chance to abandon me.”
“I would never…”
“That’s what they all said, too, at first.”
“Their sins are not mine. All I ask is a chance.” Giving Jewel time to think about his request, Oliver stood, removed his coat, and settled it around her shoulders. When she still didn’t speak, he sat back down and dared to put his arm around her. He was asking for a chance at love, a chance he never thought he’d get.
“It’s not an easy thing that you ask.” She tucked her head down and spoke the words into his shoulder.
“Do either of us ever do the easy thing?” His question earned a chuckle, and after pressing her lips to his shoulder, she finally turned to face him.
“We haven’t made a habit of being sensible so far.” Pulling his coat more tightly around her shoulders, Jewel reached up to stroke his cheek. “I want so badly to believe in you.”
“All we need is a chance, Jewel. Just one chance.” Frowning because the right words refused to form on his tongue, Oliver swallowed hard before speaking again. “A chance to get it right between us. To imagine the possibilities we bring to each other.”
“One chance,” she agreed. “The war will be over soon, it has to be. Everything will be easier then.”
“And until then? Your father’s land and accounts have most likely been seized. Where will you go? What will you do?”
“I’ll find a way to get in touch with my father. He’s a sensible man, he’ll know what to do.” Like it or not, she was going to need a man’s protection. She could postpone the decision for only so long before her hand was forced.
“Not to offend, but some of your father’s decisions were rather insensible. Please forgive my bold words, they are not intended to scold—it is always easier to see other’s mistakes than our own. He should not have sent you away without adequate protection.”
“He is a good man. He is.” Whether she was trying to convince him or herself with her statement was unclear. “My father arranged for me to travel under the protection of a Boston family for the journey here, and I’m certain he trusted his own sister to treat me kindly as well. He’s not a bad father, just a distracted one.”
“I’ve no doubt of that. He has raised a strong, clever daughter. All I’m saying is that I would have made different choices.”
“Was I shipped off and abandoned? Could he have behaved so coldly in order to martyr himself for his ideals?” She squeezed her eyes shut to forestall any more tears.
“We may never know his thoughts and intent. What we do know is that you are now in, as Mr. Shakespeare said, ‘a pickle’.” His comment earned a smile and he pulled her close, resting his chin atop her head.
“How is it that you make me feel safe when your life is in more of a muddle than mine?”
“Misery loves company.” Her body shook as she chuckled, and he kissed the top of her head. Her response was a tight hug, pressing her body against his and wrapping her arms around him.
The fresh scent of her hair, the feel of her breasts against his chest, and her hands caressing his back proved too much temptation. Tilting her face, his lips sought hers, and what was meant to be a gentle exploration quickly turned into heartfelt lust. As their kiss deepened, his hand found its way to her breast and began kneading. Pleasure radiated from his fingertips down to his cock, and he pulled her onto his lap to increase the sensation.
As she maneuvered herself closer, throwing her arms around his neck and rubbing against him, he closed his eyes and mouthed three words into the rose-scented air. I love you.
Chapter Nine
“Did you find anything over there?” Jewel asked. “There doesn’t seem to be anything of interest on this shelf.” They’d spent the morning searching the house for more clues, any other letters from her uncle, or scraps of paper squirreled away by Oliver’s father.
The first letters she found had been hastily packed up with all her other things when she thought she’d be leaving. She’d read them through tomorrow when her mind was clear. After yesterday’s tryst in the garden there’d not been another word from Oliver about marriage. Nothing said about turning their false engagement into a real one. He’d spoken in the vague language of chances and possibilities while his lips and hands had done their best to convince her of true devotion.
Helping him look for more letters and other markers from his father was a welcome distraction. Her room was comfortable, the household staff treated her as an honored guest, and Oliver was both attentive and charming. But he hadn’t mentioned marriage again.
In fact, if she thought about it, which she had all night, he’d never proposed to her properly at all. He liberated her from a carriage by surprise and thought to whisk her across the border for an irregular wedding without
asking her opinion. Did he think to force her to ask him?
“Another marker.” Holding up a scrap of paper, Oliver frowned and shook his head. “I’ll never understand why he hid everything.”
“Both our fathers had secrets we may never know the answers to.” Over the past few days, she’d come to terms with the realization that she’d not really known her father at all.
“Hmm.” Oliver stuffed the scrap of paper in his pocket.
“I know that noise. You’ve had an important thought.” Funny how quickly she’d grown accustomed to his habits. Times like this made her feel as if she’d known him forever.
“After this is all over, I have no intention of ever thinking of my sire again for the rest of my days. His secrets were the result of too much drink and too little logic.”
“Forgive him, Oliver, even if he doesn’t deserve it.” She walked over and slipped her arms around him. “You’re the better man.”
“Thank you.” All bitterness melted away as he smiled and drew her into his arms. “Why didn’t we dance at that ball?”
“You didn’t ask.” Tilting her head up to look him in the eyes, she smiled. “You owe me a dance, your lordship.”
“If I had known then how cruel your aunt was being to you, I’d have asked you to dance atop the dining room table. That would have caused a stir.” Twirling her around, he caressed her cheek with a kiss. “Have I told you lately how brave and clever you are?”
“Not brave enough to dance on a tabletop, but clever enough to distract you.” Rising up on tiptoe, she kissed the tip of his chin. Making their way through the house room by room, each search was completed with a kiss. It was reckless, dangerous, and addictive. He thought her brave and strong, but she was no match for honest affection.
Dancing their way to the next room, they began paging through books, pulling open drawers, and checking under candlesticks. Until the footman returned with the final verdict on the gems she’d found, all they could do was search for a letter that provided any clue as to why they were hidden in the Winchcombe attic and who they might belong to. With every possible hiding place examined, Jewel snuck up behind Oliver and slipped her arms around him.