Bertrice Small

by Unconquered

  She pulled away from him, and he immediately ached with loss. “Your permission? I do not need your permission to spend my money,” she said angrily.

  He couched his statement as diplomatically as possible. “I’m afraid you do, Miranda. You are legally underage, and I am your legal guardian.”

  “Oh.”

  He laughed. “Sweet Miranda, don’t fight me so hard.”

  “I will never stop fighting you,” she whispered suddenly, fiercely. “Never!”

  “I think,” he answered her seriously, “that there will come a day when you will have to, my dear.” He bent, and sweeping her into his arms once more, took her lips in a swift, savage kiss that left her breathless. Then, setting her back on her feet, he said, “Good night, dearest wildcat. I wish you sweet dreams.” And then he was gone.

  She remained in the cool night air, clutching her shawl to her breasts nervously. It was all happening too fast. She was to marry a man she didn’t even know, a man who could render her helpless with a kiss, and who promised—no, threatened in a voice that brooked no refusal that she would indeed love him one day.

  Why was she so afraid that in loving him she would lose herself? Men, she had been taught, were superior to women. Did not the Bible teach that God created man first, and then woman as an afterthought? Miranda often wondered why, if women were so unimportant, God had bothered to create them at all. She wanted no master. She would marry Jared Dunham because it was the only way she might keep both Wyndsong and her father’s fortune, but she would never love him. For to love him would be to give him an advantage over her.

  This resolved, she returned to the parlor. It was empty, and lit only by dying embers, carefully banked for the night. In the hall outside, a lit chamberstick had been left for her, and taking it up she ascended the stairs. The house was quiet. She used the taper to light her own candles, and found her nightdress laid out, and a basin of lukewarm water.

  Undressing quickly, for the air was chill, she bathed her face and hands and cleaned her teeth. Slipping beneath the covers, she was relieved to discover that Jemima had placed a flannel-wrapped hot brick at the foot of her bed.

  “Miranda?” came the whisper.

  “Mandy, I thought you asleep.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Yes,” replied Miranda, throwing back the bedclothes. Amanda placed her chamberstick on the nightstand and hurried to climb into bed beside her sister.

  “Are you all right, sister?” Amanda asked anxiously.

  “Yes.”

  “Jared is most forceful. I am so relieved that I was previously contracted to my dearest Adrian. Did you swoon when he kissed you?”

  “I did not say he kissed me.”

  “Well, I can’t believe he didn’t.”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you swoon?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Oh, come sister! I know for a fact that you’ve never been kissed until Jared. Are you going to tell me that you felt nothing? I won’t believe you.”

  “I … I felt possessed! I didn’t like it.”

  “Oh, Miranda, your feelings were shared by Jared, for if he possessed you, so you possessed him also. It is the way of a kiss between two people,” said Amanda gently.

  “You speak with such authority, little sister,” was the mocking reply, but Amanda heard confusion in the mockery.

  “Oh, Miranda, you are such a ninny! I should hope that I speak with authority since I have been kissing since I was twelve. In five and a half years I have learned something about kissing.” She laughed softly.

  “You must listen to me, sister, for Mama will tell you nothing on your wedding day but to obey your husband. And although men place a high price on their bride’s virginity, total innocence can be dangerous. Our guardian is a magnificent creature, and I imagine that when the two of you finally make love it will be like a wild and wonderful storm!”

  “Amanda!” Miranda was shocked, and suddenly shy of her twin who now seemed a stranger. “How can you have such knowledge? Surely you haven’t dared to do anything improper!”

  At first Amanda looked outraged, then she giggled mischievously. “Oh, sister, if you spent more time with females and less time by yourself and with books, you would know everything I do—and at no cost to your virtue. Women trade information.”

  “I’m sleepy, Mandy.” Miranda was embarrassed.

  “Oh, no, Miranda! You’ll not escape my lessons. Come, dearest, did you not help me with our studies when we were younger? Let me return the favor now.”

  Miranda sighed. “If I must, I must. I can see you’ll give me no peace until you’ve shared your knowledge.” She sat up and, crossing her legs, began to braid her long hair, a task she’d neglected before climbing into bed.

  Amanda hid a smile as she pulled the patchwork quilt over her shoulders to keep warm. Her little blond ringlets bobbed from beneath her white lawn and lace-edged nightcap. The cap was tied beneath her chin with pink silk ribbons. “Did Jared touch you?” she demanded.

  “What?” Miranda’s voice was absolute confirmation.

  “Oh ho, he is a bold one!” murmured Amanda. “I almost envy you, but I do not believe I could withstand such passion as I see in those green eyes of his. Where did he touch you?”

  “M-my b-breasts,” came the whispered reply.

  “Did you like it?”

  “No! No! It made me feel hot and cold—and helpless! I don’t want to feel like that!”

  “He’ll feel that way later on,” came the surprising reply.

  “He will?”

  “Yes. First you must yield to him, and then he will yield to you, and finally together you will reach paradise.”

  “How can you know such things?”

  “My friends in London, Miranda. The ones you think too silly to bother with.”

  “I think them even sillier having heard what you have to say so far, Mandy. How can you believe such drivel?”

  “I know that when Adrian kisses me I die a thousand little deaths, and when he caresses my breasts I am in Heaven! I long for the day we may truly be one! I had hoped to have the opportunity to instruct you in these matters from personal experience, but suddenly you will be wed before I, so I can only tell you what I have experienced so far and what my married friends say.”

  “Let us go to bed, Amanda.”

  “No. Have you ever seen a naked man?”

  “Good heavens, no!” Then, curiously, “Have you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Oh, Amanda, what have you done?!”

  Amanda laughed delightedly. “Why, Miranda, I do believe I have shocked you!” She chuckled again. “Remember last summer when I went off with friends for a picnic outside London? There was a party of us, and Lord and Lady Bradley were the chaperones. It was a terribly hot day, and toward midafternoon we decided to go bathing in the stream that ran through the meadow in which we had been picnicking.

  “The young men were to go around the bend in the stream while the ladies were to stay upstream. We’d taken off our gowns and petticoats, and were in our vests and drawers. Thanks to you I can swim, and so does my friend Suzanne. We decided to sneak downstream and peek at the men, which we did.

  “We got a good deal more than we bargained for, I must say! The men were totally naked! Miranda … surely you have noticed the way horses are built?”

  When her sister remained silent, Amanda went on. Miranda was keeping quiet either because she knew nothing or because she chose not to discuss what she had seen in the animal kingdom. Miranda being Miranda, she was not going to speak of it unless she wished to. Taking a deep breath, Amanda continued:

  “Men have—well, appendages that hang from between their legs, the way animals do. Some are big and some small, some long and some short. But they all have them. And they have hair on their triangles, the way we do. Some even have hair on their chests and legs and arms.”

  “And you stayed there looking at them?” Miranda was
shocked.

  “Listen! Soon several girls came along. They were gypsies, I am quite sure—bold girls with big breasts and dark hair. They called to the men, joked with them, and the gentlemen invited them to swim. Well, Miranda, those girls threw off their blouses and skirts—they had no underdrawers, vests, or stockings on—and were quickly as naked as the men.

  “They were not one bit shy about jumping into the water and splashing around with the men. For a while that’s all they did, and then the men’s appendages changed, becoming bigger, and sticking straight out from their bodies.

  “Soon the girls lay on the grassy banks with their legs spread wide, and each man in his turn knelt between a girl’s legs and pushed his stiffened appendage in and out of her body until he collapsed. The girls cried out, but they did not seem to be in pain. We saw that when the men stood up afterward their appendages were limp again.”

  “What was it the men were doing with the gypsies?”

  “They were making love! Caroline says that to have a man inside of you is a delicious feeling, although I will admit that the gypsies looked kind of funny. So did the men. Anyway, Caroline says that there is pain the first time, when you are still a virgin, but that there is never any pain after that one time. And …”

  Here Amanda paused, nearly overwhelmed by her own knowledge. Then she added brightly, “Oh, yes! Babies are born through the opening we use for making love.”

  “But how can that be, Amanda?” Miranda was beginning to sound doubtful again. “A whole baby getting through there? That doesn’t sound right.”

  “Caroline says the body stretches. She should know. She has a son!” Amanda stoutly defended her friend.

  “Caroline is certainly full of facts,” said Miranda. “I wonder she did not leave this to Mama to explain.”

  Amanda chuckled. “On the day you are married to Jared Mama will tell you nothing. She will tell you to trust in God, and obey your husband in all things. If she has had enough rum punch she may be bold enough to say that there are certain things in marriage that are necessary even if unpleasant. You will be left believing that babies are found under mushrooms, and in bluebells!”

  Miranda was amazed. For all these years she had believed she was protecting Amanda, the gentle, slower twin, from the harshness of the world! Now it appeared that little Amanda knew far more than she did of things necessary to survival in a man’s world. In her quiet way, Amanda had great strength.

  “Do you have any questions?” asked Amanda matter-of-factly.

  “No. You seem to have answered them all.”

  “Good! It really isn’t fair to send a girl to her marriage bed with no real knowledge,” said Amanda.

  “One little thing, twin?”

  “Yes?”

  “If a girl is supposed to be a virgin on her wedding night, then how do men gain their experience?”

  “Miranda, there are good girls, and there are bad girls in this world. Not all bad girls are necessarily gypsies.”

  The grandfather clock in the hall struck ten. “Go to bed, Amanda,” said her sister.

  “All right! I do feel ever so much better having spoken to you, Miranda.” She slipped out of the bed, and picked up her half-burned candle. “Sweet dreams, dearest,” she said, and then she was gone and Miranda heard the door close behind her.

  Replumping the pillows, she yanked the crumpled quilt up over her shoulders. What a lot of bother this was going to be, she thought irritably.

  I must be a woman now, she thought sadly, and I don’t think I’ll like it at all. But oh, Papa! I won’t let Wyndsong down! I’ll do what I must. And so resolving, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 4

  “A TRAGIC DEATH, AND SO DAMNED—YOUR PARDON, LADIES—SO damned unnecessary,” said John Dunham. He stroked his thick gray sideburns. “So, Jared, you’ve come into your inheritance, and are now the lord of Wyndsong Manor. Have you had a chance to see where on the island we might place a boat yard? Don’t worry about skilled workers, for we’ve more than enough to bring down; we’ll build them their village right around the yard. I hear there’s a vast forest on the island of both hard and soft woods. Good! We’ll not have to import wood to build the ships.”

  Imagining Miranda’s reaction to his father’s speech, Jared almost laughed aloud. Instead he said quietly, “There will be no boat yard built on Wyndsong, Father. The manor is an extremely prosperous farm and the horses bred there are justly famous. A boat yard would in a few short years render a green and fertile land barren. My inheritance would have little value then. Perhaps that matters little to you, but it matters greatly to me. If I destroy Wyndsong, what will my sons have?”

  “You must marry to have sons, Jared,” said his mother, knowing an opportunity when she saw one.

  “Another part of my news, Mother. I am to be married shortly. I came home particularly to invite you all to the wedding.”

  “Mercy!” Elizabeth Lightbody Dunham fell back in her chair, her slender bosom heaving. Instantly her daughter, Bess Cabot, and her daughter-in-law, Charity, were fanning her and patting her wrists.

  “Congratulations!” grinned Jonathan. “I have no doubt that she’s your match.”

  “Brother Jon, you have no idea how near the truth you are.”

  “You may be thirty, sir,” boomed John Dunham, “but I must approve this match, or you’ll not get my blessing. You’ve studiously avoided every respectable girl in Plymouth since you were breeked; now you come home to tell me you’ve inherited Wyndsong and you’re getting married! Who the hell is this woman? Some fortune-hunting doxy, I’ve no doubt! You’ve never had any sense! Refusing to take your place in the yards here, running off to Europe all the time!”

  Jared felt the anger well up in him, but he forced it down. It amused him to hear his father’s threat about a blessing. The old man had been nagging him to marry for years.

  “I think,” he said, “you will approve my choice of a wife, Father. She is young, an heiress, and from a well-bred family whom you know personally. Like Jon, I fell in love at first sight.”

  “The name of this paragon?”

  “Miranda Dunham, Cousin Tom’s daughter.”

  “By God, I do approve, Jared!”

  “I am delighted that my choice meets with your approval,” said Jared wryly. The sarcasm eluded his father.

  After a large family dinner the two brothers walked together in the back garden. Jared and his brother were almost identical in features. There was but a half-inch difference in their heights, Jared being a full six-feet three. Jared’s dark hair was cut short à la Brutus, whereas Jonathan wore his long and clubbed back. There were subtler differences. Jonathan’s step was not as long nor as confident; his hands were less elegant than Jared’s, and his eyes were gray-green in contrast to the bottle-green of Jared’s.

  Jonathan Dunham came right to the point. “Love at first sight, Jared?”

  “For me, yes.”

  “So fate has finally dealt you the blow you so richly deserve, my heartbreaking brother. Tell me about Mistress Miranda Dunham. Is she petite, and blond and round like her Van Steen mama?”

  “Her twin sister, Amanda, is. Amanda is to be wed next summer to a wealthy English milord.”

  “If they are twins then they must look alike.”

  “They are twins, but as different as night and day. Miranda is tall and willowy with sea-green eyes and silken hair like a silvery-gold moon. She is a fairy child, as innocent as a fawn, as elusive as the wind. She is proud and defiant, and I will have my hands full, but I love her, Jon.”

  “Good Lord, Jared, you are in love. I certainly never thought to see you brought low by the tender passion.”

  Jared laughed good-naturedly. “She does not know how I feel, Jon.”

  “Then why did you ask her to marry you?” Jonathan was puzzled.

  His brother explained.

  “So you’ve behaved like the perfect gentleman, eh, Jared?” Jonathan’s mouth was twitch
ing. “What if she’d been as ugly as sin?”

  “But she isn’t,” said Jared.

  “Only reluctant. That’s a problem you’ve never faced before, brother.”

  “She’s very young, Jon, and she’s been very sheltered despite a season in London.”

  “And you love her! God help you, Jared!” Jonathan shook his head. “When is the wedding?”

  “December sixth, on Wyndsong.”

  “Good lord, you’re not wasting much time! What of the mourning period for Cousin Tom?”

  “His will said he wanted no mourning past a month,” replied Jared. “I can’t leave the manor unattended over the winter, and I am too young to remain alone on the island with a lovely widow but twelve years my senior, and two young girls thirteen and a half years my junior. What a field day the gossips would have!

  “So a wedding on St. Nicholas Day it will be for the fair Miranda and me, and you’re all invited. I’ve planned for you to go overland to New London, where the yacht will be waiting to take you across the Long Island Sound to Wyndsong. I’d like you to be there a week before the wedding so you can visit with Miranda and her family.”

  “When are you going back?”

  “In a few days. I’ll need the time to gentle my wildcat before you come. It was hard enough on her that I inherited Wyndsong, but my being involved in her father’s death was too much for her. We need to know each other better.”

  “You couldn’t have found a sweet, quiet girl, could you, Jared?”

  “Sweet quiet girls bore me.”

  “I know,” grinned Jonathan Dunham. “Remember the time we followed Chastity Brewster …” and he was off on a reminiscence that soon had both brothers laughing uproariously.

  A few days later Jared Dunham left Plymouth, and returned to Wyndsong Island. He sailed on the Dunham family yacht that Dorothea had thoughtfully sent up the coast to Buzzards Bay. A crewman had ridden overland to inform him that his own ship awaited him. Jonathan’s admiring glance surprised him, and Jared suddenly became fully aware of his new position.