She stood there, stiff and unyielding. “Goodbye, Reiver.”
If only he could coax her upstairs into bed…
Cecelia read his intentions, for she knocked his hands away and stepped back. “Don’t you dare try to seduce me, Reiver Shaw.”
His pride stung, Reiver gave her one last long, level look, then turned on his heel and headed for the door. When he reached it, he stopped and turned. “Then go ahead and marry him.”
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He left without looking back, though he heard Cecelia’s sob of anguish just before a rolling clap of thunder rocked the house.
Cold rain poured out of the darkening evening sky like water gushing from a pump, dripping off Reiver’s narrow hat brim and soaking him to the skin the moment he stepped out of the stagecoach and started down the drive.
He had lost the one woman he had ever truly loved.
He trudged down the muddy drive, rain—or were they tears?—stinging his eyes and blinding him. His soul felt as if it had been scraped raw and salt rubbed into the open wound. Reiver swallowed hard. He wanted to sink down into the mud and never get up.
Through the wall of water he saw the warm, welcoming glow of lights up ahead, and as he drew closer, he discerned Hannah standing on the porch waiting for him, the lamp in her hand illuminating her worried expression.
She motioned to him. “Hurry, or you’ll catch your death.”
But he didn’t hurry. Death would be preferable to the pain.
Hannah gave him an odd look. “Welcome home. Did you have a good trip?”
Beneath the shelter of the porch roof at last, he removed his wet hat. “Very pleasant.” He surprised himself by kissing her hard and swiftly on the mouth, hungry for the feel of a woman’s soft lips against his.
Startled, Hannah drew back and stared at him, her lips parted. She hid her confusion by turning and opening the front door. “You’re soaked. I’ll heat supper while you change. James and Samuel are eager to hear all about your trip.”
“They’ll have to wait,” he replied, following her into the house and setting down his valise. He exchanged greetings with his brothers seated before the cold 100
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fireplace. “I’ll tell you boys all about my trip later. I’m exhausted and going straight to bed.”
But James wasn’t about to let him. He sprang from his chair, his face shining with excitement. “We’ve got to convert the looms to belt drives, Reiver. We’ll have less breakdowns and—”
“Hold it,” Reiver said, holding up one hand. “You can tell me all about the Jewells and their invention later, James. I’m going to bed.” And he wanted his wife with him. He turned to Hannah. “Will you find some dry clothes for me to wear?” It was as good an excuse as any to get her alone.
She nodded and headed up the stairs with Reiver following.
“The boys are in bed,” Hannah said over her shoulder. “Ben wanted to wait up for you, but I told him you might be very late.”
Reiver couldn’t take his eyes off Hannah’s gently swaying hips. “I’ll see the boys tomorrow morning.”
Once in their bedroom, Hannah set down her lamp and went right over to the chest. She glanced back at him. “You’re shivering.”
He closed the door and locked it. “Then warm me, Hannah.”
She hesitated, her blue eyes wide with confusion, for in their entire marriage he had never once asked her to love him.
He removed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, just to make his intentions plain, and smiled when Hannah turned down the bed. When she went to blow out the lamp, he said, “Leave it on this time,” and found his pulse quickening when a knowing blush suffused her cheeks.
She turned her back to him and undressed, peeling away the many layers of feminine clothing, revealing the graceful curve of her naked back and hips that had lost their boyish narrowness to childbirth. Naked himself and fully aroused, Reiver went to her, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her against
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him so he could nuzzle the sensitive spot that always smelled of warm, sweet spices just below her ear. He felt her involuntary shudder, though he suspected it was more distaste than feminine arousal.
Cecelia! he cried in silent desperation, sliding his hands up beneath Hannah’s breasts so he could peer down at the enticing mounded flesh rising and falling with her every rapid breath.
Stiff and unyielding as a virgin, Hannah said, “Reiver, please, you mustn’t—
” but he cut off her protest in midsentence by raking his teeth against her sensitive earlobe.
“Get into bed.” Tonight of all nights, he needed both to conquer and satisfy to soothe the soul-searing pain of Cecelia’s rejection.
Hannah complied dutifully, as always, but pulled the sheet up to her chin and stared at the ceiling in glassy-eyed resignation.
Reiver stood beside the bed, his hands on his hips. “Look at me, Hannah.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head.
“I can’t understand why you won’t look. I’m not so ugly that I’ll turn you to stone, you know.”
The gentle teasing in his voice so startled Hannah that she turned her head, her eyes flew open of their own volition, and she saw her husband naked for the first time. She tried to look away, but couldn’t despite her embarrassment. His powerful, stocky body was beautifully formed, from his broad, muscular shoulders and chest down to his narrow waist and flat stomach. His desire for her was all too evident.
She blushed and looked away again. “You’re not ugly at all.”
He reached over and flipped her sheet away. “Neither are you.” His hungry blue gaze roved over her. “And since it gives me great pleasure to look at you as well, we’ll keep the lamp on this time.”
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She swallowed hard. “You never wanted to before.”
“Well, I do now.”
As Reiver slid into bed beside her, Hannah stiffened, preparing herself for their usual hasty coupling. Tonight, however, he drew her into his arms and kissed her mouth slowly and deeply. When his hand began stroking and fondling her bare breast, Hannah’s bewilderment turned to astonishment at the heat pulsing through her body. She melted inside, her breathing becoming shallow and ragged as Reiver’s mouth closed over a taut nipple and his hand slid down her thigh.
She closed her eyes and wished it were Samuel giving her such pleasure.
Reiver kept touching her everywhere, using his flicking tongue and teasing fingertips to ruthlessly explore every inch of her with a tormenting slowness that enslaved her to sensations she had never experienced.
At what point had she turned into this wanton creature writhing and moaning, greedy for more? She didn’t know, for time had stood still. All she knew was dizzying, heart-stopping, endless pleasure.
Reiver finally possessed her, moving above her and within her with consummate skill, building the fires higher and higher. When Hannah finally climaxed for the first time, the only way she survived its intensity was to scream.
Later, Hannah looked down in wonder at Reiver’s tousled head nestled against her shoulder, his breath warm against her breast. Something had changed between them, something major and inexplicable. Never had he loved her like this. Never had she felt so close to him. She closed her eyes, remembering every shocking, tormenting caress, and felt her body clench in response. She had never dreamed her marital duties had this hidden, dangerous, exhilarating side.
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She opened her eyes and absently ran her fingers down Reiver’s muscular arm. Now that she had experienced such ecstasy once, she wanted to experience it again. And again. She regretted that it could never be with Samue
l.
Downstairs, Samuel stood at the window, his mood as black and volatile as the evening sky.
“It’s still pouring,” he said to James, who was crudely sketching some piece of machinery at the dining room table.
James glanced up. “What’s keeping Reiver? His supper will spoil.”
He’s bedding her, Samuel thought. He doesn’t give a damn about his supper because he’s bedding her.
The moment Reiver had walked in the door, his expression bleak and haunted, Samuel knew some monumental catastrophe had befallen his brother, and he suspected it had everything to do with Cecelia.
Tomorrow he was going to find out exactly what had sent the faithless Reiver rushing to warm his wife’s bed.
When the following morning dawned bright and clear, Samuel left the house early and went for a walk down by the brook so he wouldn’t see Hannah at breakfast. He returned just as Reiver left the house for the mill.
Samuel joined him. “Something happened between you and Cecelia yesterday.”
Reiver’s eyes darkened with pain. “She’s broken it off. She’s marrying Amos Tuttle.”
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Samuel stared at him. “Cecelia’s getting married? To the banker’s son? He’s quite a catch.”
Reiver grunted and kept on walking, forcing the stunned Samuel to hurry after him.
Samuel said, “Can you really blame her? You’re a married man. She’d have no future with you.”
Reiver stopped and whirled around, his head lowered like a bull about to charge. “I love her, damn it! How could she do this to me?”
“If you weren’t so hurt, I’d feel sorry for you.”
“She said she loved me. She said she understood why I had to marry Hannah.” Reiver stopped at the top of Mulberry Hill. “She knew I’d always take care of her. And what does she do? Leaves me for some whey-faced banker who’s tied to his daddy’s apron strings.”
Samuel shook his head. “Reiver, you may run a successful business, but you know nothing about women.”
“Oh, I don’t, do I? Well, my wise little brother, I know that women want to be loved and cared for. I was doing both.”
“Most of them also want the respectability of marriage and their children untainted by the stigma of bastardy.”
Reiver’s broad shoulders sagged in surrender: “You’re right. I couldn’t expect Cecelia to go on being my mistress forever.”
“Magnanimous of you to admit it. And what about Hannah?” Samuel held his breath and waited.
“I’m going to try to be a better husband to her. She’ll never take Cecelia’s place, but I’m going to try to love her.”
The fool makes it sound as though it’s such a chore, Samuel thought.
Reiver grinned and clapped him on the back. “I got a good start last night.”
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Samuel forced himself to smile. “You rogue.”
“Well, I’ve wasted enough time talking to you. I had better get to work.”
Samuel watched him stride toward the mill, then he turned and went back to the house.
He found Hannah alone, smiling and humming to herself as she cleared the breakfast dishes. He watched her, unobserved, seeing a contentment on her face that had never been there before.
She looked up and saw him. “Samuel… I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Are we alone?”
“Yes. Mrs. Hardy is upstairs with the boys, and James went out to the barn.”
She wiped her hands nervously on her apron. “Samuel, about what you said to me yesterday…”
He held up his hand to still her. “While I meant every word, it’s best forgotten for all our sakes.”
Hannah nodded. “I don’t know why, but Reiver has changed.”
His mistress has sent him packing, that’s why, Samuel thought. But he said,
“Perhaps he’s finally realized that he’s a fortunate man to have you for his wife.”
She blushed shyly. “Perhaps.”
“I’m very happy for you, Hannah.” He hated to lie, but he had no other choice.
“It’s going to be better from now on,” she said. The brilliant light of optimism banished the doubt from her eyes. “I’m sure of it.”
It pained Samuel to see her so trusting, so confident, for he knew his brother, and he was sure Reiver’s fidelity would never last.
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Later, after forming bread dough into loaves and setting them aside to rise, Hannah wiped the flour from her hands, removed her apron, and went outside to find her husband and tell him of her plan.
She found Reiver in the mill yard helping to unload two wagons stacked with baskets of cocoons that had traveled from China by clipper ship to the coastal town of New London and overland to Coldwater.
Hannah watched him work, his shirt sleeves rolled up out of the way and his furrowed brow beaded with the sweat of exertion on a hot summer morning. She remembered last night, and the strength of those arms around her.
He jumped down from the wagon, drew out his knife, and ripped open one of the baskets, the covering of which was stamped with strange black markings that Hannah knew were Chinese writing.
Reiver plunged his hands into the cocoons, straightened, and bellowed an epithet that made all the men freeze and stare.
“Broken!” Red-faced, he cursed again and held up the cocoon for all to see.
“Those bastards have cheated us again!
“Let’s get these baskets open and see how many more are broken,” Reiver said to his men. He turned and noticed Hannah.
The anger faded from his blue eyes, and he smiled. He stopped working and walked toward her.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your work,” she said.
He looked back at the baskets in disgust. “You’re a most welcome interruption.”
He’s never said that to me before, Hannah thought. She said, “Isn’t there anything you can do about this…this thievery?”
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Reiver shook his head. “Short of going to China and watching them select the cocoons myself, there is nothing I can do except complain to the middleman and take my business to another company.”
“They’re cheating us, and it’s just not right!”
Her indignation on his behalf must have surprised him, for he placed a soothing hand on her arm. “I’m just as furious as you are, Hannah, but I’m afraid this is just a cost of doing business with the Chinese. Since I can’t raise my own silk, I have to import it.” He raised one brow. “But I’m sure you didn’t come down here to discuss Chinese silk with me.”
She knotted her fingers together. “I—I’d like your permission to buy some books for the women to read in the skein room.”
His face clouded. “But I don’t want to encourage laziness. I want them to work.”
“Reading wouldn’t encourage laziness. It will make their work go faster and improve their minds. I thought they could take turns reading aloud and taking the books home at night.”
“Why do you wish to do this?”
She looked away shyly. “Because the mill is important to you, and I want to help.”
“But you do help me by taking care of my home and children.”
“And I will continue to do so. But the mill is our family business, after all, and I feel that I should know something about it.” When he hesitated, she added,
“Running the mill itself is men’s work, I know, but at least I could concern myself with our workers’ welfare just as I do for my own children.”
Reiver rubbed his wide jaw thoughtfully, then nodded. “All right. You may buy books for the women in the skein room. We’ll try this plan of yours for three months. But if their productivity falls, no more books.”
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“Agreed. Thank you, Reiver.” Hannah stood on tiptoes and kissed him swiftly on the cheek, delighting in the way his eyes darkened expectantly before she turned away and returned to the house.
The following day, when Samuel left for Hartford, Hannah gave him a list of books she wanted, and the moment he returned with them she went to the skein room to put her plan into action. Constance, Henrietta, and Sadie were wary at first, but once Hannah began reading, they relaxed and their fingers flew. That evening Constance and Sadie took books home.
By the end of the week Hannah deemed her project a success.
As the summer passed and Reiver made no comment about the success or failure of Hannah’s plan, she grew increasingly apprehensive. But he had given her three months, so she would just have to wait until the fall.
The leaves blazed red, yellow, and orange on the cool October evening that Hannah would learn the fate of her daily readings with the mill women.
Holding Davey in her arms, she touched her lips to his downy head before putting him to bed and murmured, “You and Ben are going to have another little brother or sister soon.”
After bearing two children, she knew the telltale signs all too well. Watching Davey’s eyelids droop as he fought sleep, Hannah smiled to herself. While she loved her two sons with all her heart, this child was going to be special because it had been conceived in mutual desire. And she hoped that this time it would be a girl.
Once Davey drifted off to sleep, Hannah went downstairs to tell Reiver her own news.
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She found him in the parlor, reading the newspaper. Suddenly he sat up straight and his expression contorted in pain and anger. He swore and flung down the newspaper before bolting out of his chair and stalking off to the window, where he stood running his hand through his hair and muttering.
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