Jack of Hearts

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Jack of Hearts Page 32

by Marjorie Farrell


  “Do you really?”

  “Do you think I call every woman ‘sweetheart’?” he asked her with a tender smile.

  “You might have called many a woman that, for all I know.” she said with a spark of her old tart humor.

  “I may have been called the Jack of Hearts, but I have never stolen nor kept a one,” he assured her. He leaned down and captured her mouth, which she surrendered eagerly.

  “You should go back to sleep,” he whispered after they finally pulled away from one another.

  “I am not that tired, Jack,” she told him shyly, putting her hand on his chest. He clasped it in his.

  “Truly, Anne, I should go back to my chair. I don’t know if I can trust myself…”

  “But I trust you, Jack.” And she did. This man loved her. She knew it, not just because he had told her in words. She could feel it in his kisses, in the warmth of his hand holding hers.

  “You shouldn’t have said that,” he told her with a low laugh, and he slipped his hand beneath her nightrail to caress her breast.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

  “How do you know?” she teased. “You’ve never seen me.”

  “But I like what I have seen very much,” he told her.

  Anne reached up and pulling his loosened cravat off, opened his shirt. “You have seen more than I have,” she whispered, and she explored his chest with her fingers, tracing the hair that ran down to his waist.

  “You are playing with fire,” he warned her.

  “Take your shirt off, Jack, and light the lamp.”

  “So you want to inspect the goods, Miss Heriot,” he teased her.

  “My father taught me always to do that, my lord.”

  Jack lit the lamp and unbuttoned his shirt.

  His shoulders and chest were broad, but tapered down to a slim waist. Anne drank in the sight of the black hair against brown skin and ran her hand down his chest again, this time going all the way to the waistband of his trousers, where her fingers, quite on their own, busied themselves with opening his buttons.

  “I must see all of you,” she teased.

  “It is your turn,” said Jack, and pushing her hand away gently, he unbuttoned the nightrail and slipped it off. He buried his face between her breasts and then suckled one. Anne gave a sigh of pleasure and pressed herself against him.

  Jack pulled away. “We have to stop,” he said softly.

  “No, we don’t, not unless you want to. I want you to love me.”

  “I do love you.”

  “I mean with your body.”

  “You won’t regret it?”

  “Not unless you disappoint me,” Anne said with a teasing grin.

  “Oh, I will try very hard not to disappoint you,” he promised, as he stood up and took off his boots and breeches and smallclothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor.

  He stood there bathed in the lamplight, and Anne thought she had never seen anything more lovely than his tall, slender body. She reached out her hand and he took it, interlacing their fingers.

  “Come, Jack,” she whispered, pulling him down next to her.

  At first it didn’t seem that anything could be more pleasurable than his skin against hers and the feeling of pressure against her belly from his manhood. But when he plunged his tongue deep into her mouth, she realized their kisses gave them the intimacy that their skin so desired. Yet it still wasn’t enough. Not enough. When his hand reached down and found her, she was warm and wet.

  “Now feel me,” he whispered and, guiding her hand, placed it on the silky-soft yet rock-hard shaft. She ran her fingers gently down it and felt him shudder.

  She wanted him inside her. Then maybe they would be close enough. So she pulled herself up until he was against her. “This will hurt the first time,” he told her. And it did, the first time. But once he had broken through, the feeling of him filling her was enough to make up for any pain.

  The second time it didn’t hurt at all. She lost herself in the rocking motion of their bodies moving naturally together and the darkness of the place he drove her to, upland up, only so she could fall back down into his arms, crying out her release.

  * * * *

  The next morning Jack decided he would reward the Heriot rooster with an extra handful of corn, for had it not been for the bird’s early-morning serenade, he might well have been found asleep in Anne’s bed with his arms around her. They would be married soon, it was true, but he didn’t want the servants gossiping. He slipped out of the bed carefully, picked his clothes up off the floor, and made his way quietly to his own room.

  When Anne awoke a few hours later and reached out for Jack, she gave a little sigh of disappointment, but she was also thankful for his thoughtfulness.

  She felt wonderfully rested and absolutely ravenous. She dressed quickly, and when she got to the breakfast table, she found Sarah sitting over a cup of coffee. She gave another little sigh, for she had expected Jack to be there.

  Sarah smiled at her. “He’s gone to Shipton with Patrick, Anne. They want to see if the troopers caught Tom Gibson.”

  Anne gave a little shiver.

  “I hope the man hangs for what he did to you,” Sarah said with a hardness very unlike her. “Come, you must be starving.”

  Anne filled her plate and sat down. She didn’t think she had ever enjoyed a breakfast so much. The fragrance of ham and sausage filled her nostrils. The sight of butter melting in the crevices of her muffin delighted her. And a whole potful of tea seemed like a miracle. She didn’t have to measure anything out, and she could drink as much as she liked.

  Perhaps it was the aftereffects of the night before or the food or both, but she had never felt so satisfied or so relaxed. The fear and tension were gone. She was safe at home. She was loved. And she loved. Oh, how she loved Jack Belden!

  She sat back and gave another little sigh, this time one of utter contentment. “I don’t wish Tom Gibson to hang, Sarah,” she said seriously.

  “But he must be punished,” Sarah protested.

  “Oh, I agree. But if he hangs, his family will be punished along with him. And he had some justification.”

  “He had none, Anne! You’ve never harmed him.”

  “My father did,” Anne declared quietly. “He used the Combination Acts to take away what should be everyone’s right.”

  “Machine breaking is not a right.”

  “But machine breaking didn’t send him to jail, Sarah. He was only guilty of meeting with other workers.”

  “Plenty of men have gone to jail and not come out murderers.”

  “Tom Gibson is no murderer. Oh, he’s a vengeful, angry man. But he’s mainly a drunkard. He never intended to kill me.”

  “But you might have died, Anne, had it not been for Ned.”

  “Yes, but only because Tom had drunk himself into a stupor. It would only have been murder by omission, not commission,” she added with a touch of humor.

  “I don’t see how you can joke about it!”

  “I am alive, I have just feasted on ambrosia, and I am marrying Jack Belden,” Anne replied with a euphoric smile. “How could I hate anyone this morning?”

  Sarah looked down to hide a smile. She had her suspicions about where Lord Aldborough had spent the night. She was sure it was not folded up in a small, uncomfortable chair.

  “If Tom Gibson were transported, he would be punished enough. I would see that his family went with him, if they wished, and had a way to support themselves, either here or there. It would be his choice, whether he stopped drinking or not. His fate would be in his own hands, not in the hands of the Heriot family anymore.”

  “You are far more generous than I would ever be, Anne.”

  “I can afford to be, Sarah, for look at all I have.”

  * * * *

  Anne made sure to visit Ned later that morning. His fever had broken, and he was sitting up in a chair, gazing out the window.

  “Are you sure you should be out
of bed, Ned?”

  “Miss Heriot! They did find tha.”

  “Only thanks to you and Ben Rudd.” Anne sat down on the window seat opposite him.

  Ned cleared his throat and asked the question that had been torturing him all morning. “Have t’troopers found Tom?”

  “I don’t know. Jack—Lord Aldborough—and Patrick have ridden over to find out.”

  “I am reet sorry for what Tom did to tha,” Ned told her, nodding at Anne’s lightly bandaged wrists.

  “I am fully recovered, Ned. I wanted to tell you that I will press charges against your brother.”

  Ned looked agonized. “Tha has to, I understand that,” he whispered.

  “He did kidnap me, and I might well have died up there. But I will make sure he is only transported. I am hoping if his family chooses to go with him, he may take responsibility for himself and them again.”

  Ned’s face was transformed. “I can’t thank you enough, miss.”

  “And I can’t thank you, Ned. You saved my life. I can’t reward that by taking your brother’s. Although he will be lost to you in a way,” she added.

  “He’s been lost to me in t’drink for all these years anyway.”

  “I want you to take over as overseer of the carding shed,” Anne told him, taking refuge from embarrassment in a brisk, businesslike tone.

  “There is no carding shed, Miss Heriot,” he reminded her with an ironic smile.

  “But there will be, and it will have a new, safer carding machine. And the children’s hours will be cut.”

  Anne could see Ned struggling with both gratitude and concern. “Without their wages being affected, Ned.”

  “Thank tha, Miss Heriot,” he said with an open-hearted smile.

  “And after a few years, I am hoping to make you a foreman.”

  Ned gave her a look of disbelief. “I don’t think Mr. Trantor will agree to that, Miss Heriot.”

  “Mr. Trantor works for me and will agree to whatever I say.”

  Ned laughed. “Tha sounds just like tha father!”

  Anne blushed. “My father and I have some things to answer for.”

  “Tha father was a fair man, as owners go, Miss Heriot. ‘Twas Trantor that caused some of the problems.”

  “Things will change, Ned, I promise you that,” Anne told him as she stood up.

  “Nance and I can get married,” he whispered joyfully.

  “Yes, and she can do all the whistling she wants about it!”

  They both laughed, and then Anne placed her hand gently on Ned’s shoulder. “I hope we will have many years of working together, Ned. Thank you again,” she said softly as she left.

  “Thank tha, Miss Heriot,” Ned called after her. Then putting his face in his hands, he let the tears fall, washing away the terrible guilt he had felt at saving Anne Heriot’s life at the expense of his brother’s.

  * * * *

  When Patrick and Jack returned, the two women were waiting.

  “Tom Gibson met the troopers like a man, I must give him that,” Jack told them. “He’s in Shipton jail and shall be arraigned at the fall assizes.”

  “I want him spared, Jack. Will you do everything you can to have his sentence reduced to transportation?”

  Jack protested and then agreed. “You are an amazing woman, Anne Heriot,” he told her, his eyes warm with approval, and with something else that made her wish they were alone.

  “No, just a very happy woman, Jack.”

  Patrick cleared his throat. “Lord Aldborough, sor…”

  “Oh, yes, I forgot. We brought Miss Hutton back with us.”

  Anne smiled. “That was kind of you, Jack. Sarah, will you take her up to Ned?”

  “I will.” After a quick glance between them, she and Patrick left Anne and Jack alone.

  “Are you sure you want to spare Gibson, Anne?”

  “I am. Ned Gibson saved my life. I can’t take his brother’s. And I feel my father was partly responsible for all of this.” She hesitated. “I am making Ned the overseer of the sorting shed. I hope you approve, Jack.”

  “The mills are yours, Anne,” he said with a quizzical grin.

  “I know I had it written into the marriage settlement. But I was hoping we might act as partners in everything. I would like to help you in your work also,” she added hesitantly.

  “I am honored to be your partner, Anne. We won’t be able to change the British factory system, but perhaps we can make some small dents in it.” He came over and enfolded her in his arms. “You fit just where I imagined you would. Just under my heart,” he murmured, and she looked up at him and smiled.

  “You have my heart, Jack. Is one enough for you?”

  He laughed and then dropped a kiss on her lips. “We are one heart, now, Anne Heriot.”

  Epilogue

  The wedding was to be held the third week of June, for Jack and Anne couldn’t bear to wait any longer.

  “I would have been married weeks ago, but we wanted our friends and family with us,” Anne told Elspeth when she and Val arrived the day before the ceremony. “And I think we were lucky to get tha, lass,” she added, only half joking. Elspeth had managed to get through six months of pregnancy without showing much, thanks to her height, but she now looked very pregnant indeed.

  Elspeth smiled. “Actually, you were, Anne. Val doesn’t want me going further than the garden, much less twenty miles away! But the baby isn’t due for a month, and I told him I would come by myself if I had to, I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”

  “Especially since I am marrying the man you preferred,” Anne responded with a teasing smile.

  “Especially because you’re marrying Jack,” Elspeth agreed.

  * * * *

  Jack’s parents had arrived the day before. Anne had been very nervous about meeting them, but they were so obviously pleased with her that she relaxed almost immediately. Jack’s mother was a striking woman, her dark hair and skin proclaiming her Spanish heritage, but her blue eyes clearly from her English father. She had all of Jack’s charm, and none of his melancholy.

  His grandmother sent her regrets, since she no longer traveled. “But I expect you to bring your wife to visit me before the summer is over, querrido” she wrote to her grandson.

  * * * *

  So the wedding was small, just as Anne had wished, with their family, friends, and a few of the closest neighbors. Joseph was there, of course, looking even more reserved. And Ned Gibson and his new bride, Nance, were also at the church.

  Anne had considered having Joseph give her away, but she decided she could not ask him to do something that would so obviously be painful. He may have been a harsh man of business, but he did care for her. She had considered Lord Faringdon, but in the end had asked Patrick, for it seemed fitting that anyone who took the place of her father should be a man like him. As fond as she was of Charles Faringdon, she was still just a plain lass from Yorkshire, and Patrick had become as much her friend as her employee.

  As Anne walked down the aisle of the little church, Jack’s face lit up. If anyone there still thought this was a marriage of convenience, he had only to look at the groom to know that this was a union based on love and nothing else.

  * * * *

  “You looked splendid walking Anne down the aisle, Sergeant Gillen,” Mrs. Gordon told him at the wedding breakfast. “And your new suit makes you look every inch the estate manager. Anne was very wise to promote you.”

  “Then ye didn’t see my knees shakin’?” joked Patrick.

  “It was good practice for September, Sergeant,” Major Gordon teased him.

  Patrick turned and gave Sarah a look that made her blush. “I’m not nervous about that a’tall, sor. ‘Tis Sarah who’ll be walkin’ down the aisle and me patiently waitin’ for her,” he added with a grin. “Of course, I don’t feel so patient now. I’d go right back to the church and marry her today if I could.” Patrick reached out and captured Sarah’s hand. “But we agreed it was bett
er to wait until Lord and Lady Aldborough get back from their honeymoon.”

  “I hope the weather holds for them,” said Mrs. Gordon.

  “Even if it rains every day, the house is small and cozy. And I am sure they will find ways to keep themselves warm,” Major Gordon replied with a gleam in his eye. “We always did, Peggy.”

  “It was lovely of you to lend them your house in Scotland,” Sarah interjected.

  “Scotland is a romantic place for a honeymoon, and our little stone house holds only good memories,” said Mrs. Gordon.

  * * * *

  Anne had moved through the morning in a daze. Only odd things stood out: Patrick’s white-gloved hand covering hers as he took her arm, the heady scent of the roses in her bouquet, and the burning look in Jack’s eyes as he turned to her to say his vows.

  The wedding breakfast was lovely, but Anne could hardly eat anything. She smiled and chatted and cut the cake, but everything felt somehow unreal. The only thing real was Jack, and he was as busy as she was, fulfilling their obligations as host and hostess.

  It wasn’t until they had waved the last guests goodbye and Jack was finally at her side that Anne began to realize that they were truly husband and wife.

  “I hope Elspeth doesn’t find the ride home too uncomfortable,” worried Anne as they turned back to the house.

  “I am surprised Val didn’t bring the midwife with them,” Jack said with a laugh.

  “She will have had her baby by the time we get back.”

  Jack leaned down and nuzzled Anne’s neck. “And perhaps by the time we return we will have started one of our own.”

  They were to leave for Scotland early the next morning, and suddenly Anne was very nervous. The whole afternoon stretched ahead of them—their first day as husband and wife—and they had nothing to do until evening.

  But she did have one thing to do, she remembered. “We haven’t exchanged our own presents, Jack,” she told him. “Go into the morning room and I will be right down.”

  “Mine is upstairs also, Anne,” he said with a mischievous smile as he followed her up the stairs. “In our room. Why don’t we meet there?”

  Anne blushed.

  Jack was standing by the window when she entered, carrying a flat rectangular parcel, wrapped in brown paper.

 

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