by Peggy Waide
"A very clever plan. And risky with my money."
She shrugged her shoulders. Her revelations did not seem to ease his mind. "Besides believing that you might care, I thought it necessary."
"Don't fret so. I'm not an ogre set on abusing those who work for me. I plead ignorance. That is not a proper excuse, but the only one I have. How I ever found a single redeeming quality in Nobb is beyond me, but I will give him a second chance. I will visit the mill immediately to ensure things are as they should be." As if puzzled, he scratched his chin, "Your abilities are quite staggering."
"It wasn't so difficult."
"I assume the people are pleased?"
"Yes." In order to convince him of the rightness of her actions, she continued with greater enthusiasm. "Especially the women. I split the jobs so that some do the spinning and weaving while others dye the cloth and hang it in the fields to dry. The colors are richer, more dramatic, and the detail in the patterns is exquisite. I believe we will be able to charge a higher coin and receive the price. If you truly reviewed the books, you should be able to see the possibilities."
"Where did you learn to read and cipher?"
The question, asked so nonchalantly, caught her off guard. "Every girl had to learn. The nuns-" Jocelyn abruptly closed her mouth.
Reyn ignored the accusation in her black eyes. He raised his chin in question. "You were saying?"
"I cannot remember."
"The nuns?"
Lifting her lips into a tight smile, eliminating all traces of meekness, she spoke in clipped tones. "Like a fleeting breeze on a summer night, the thought has come and gone."
"Like hell it has." Furiously, he crossed to where she sat, jerked her from the settee and pulled her close.
"Let me go," she said through clenched teeth as she fought his hold.
"I am tired of this game you play."
"You play the game, sir. Laying traps with kind words and false pretenses, hoping I shall reveal some master plan." Her frustration shot skyward. However could she convince this man to leave her alone? "I have no plan, as I have no memory."
"I have been patient long enough. Who are you? What is your real name? What are you hiding?"
"Is there any particular order in which you would like those questions answered?"
"No.
"Then I don't know, I don't know, and I don't know." By the time she finished, she realized she was shouting as loudly as he was. That would accomplish nothing.
"You run a household with quiet efficiency, understand the teachings of Plato and adore Shakespeare. You read Latin and French, speak both fluently and play the pianoforte with great skill. You facilitate changes in a thriving business, and I discover it will most likely be profitable, yet you can't remember whence that knowledge came? By God, do not come the innocent with me. You're a liar. Your memory is as sharp as mine."
She acknowledged the truth in his accusation, but the arrogant set of his jaw as well as his words made her resolve to see her task through. "And you are a manipulative, detestable-Jack Nasty. Let me solve my own problems." Jocelyn turned to flee.
His arm, shaking quickly about her waist, brought her flush against him, toe to toe, chest to chest, eye to eye. Hard lips fell upon hers. The kiss, sensual and demanding, allowed no escape.
Fighting the erotic sensations erupting throughout her body, she struggled to leave his embrace. His power over her grew each moment their lips touched. She felt his tongue trace a line across her mouth. Wanting to fight, but needing more, she allowed access.
The onslaught to her senses swelled as, relentless in his quest, he ravished her mouth. When she quieted, the kiss adopted a life of its own, changing, softening, se ducing. She knew she should stop him, even as her arms crept up his chest to rest at the nape of his neck. Tightening his hold, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he pulled her against the bold proof of his arousal, his hand caressing the softness of her breast, bringing her nipple to immediate life. She gasped. He moaned.
A fierce longing to remain in his arms battled everything the nuns had taught her. Behaving like a wanton, allowing him such liberties, screamed against her very being. Why did his touch excite her so? Why did she yearn for something more? Why couldn't she pull away? Admittedly, she wanted this.
Coughing. No, a throat clearing. The sudden realization that they were no longer alone diminished the flames to smoldering embers.
"Thank goodness. I thought I might have to find a bucket of water or, at the very least, a bed for the two of you." The warm masculine voice filled with laughter extinguished the embers to ashes.
Reyn snarled beneath his breath. "Great bloody hell."
Jocelyn, extracting herself from her husband's arms, flew across the room into the arms of the visitor, her excitement bubbling over. "Tam!"
The overwhelming urge to do physical harm engulfed Reyn as the two people embraced like long-lost lovers. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything?" Reyn crossed to the arched doorway that framed the entwined couple. "I assume this heartwarming display means you two know each other?"
Jocelyn pulled away from the man she hugged. "Forgive my manners. It surprised me so to see a friendly face."
"Meaning what?" Reyn asked. "That my presence is not preferable?"
After gaping open-mouthed over the sudden accusation, she turned to Briggs, who hovered near the doorway. "Please bring refreshments. Plum cake, if possible." She whispered to Reyn, "Do calm down. You are behaving like an ill-mannered, pernicious ankle-biter."
"I'd say more like a jealous husband," Tam inter jected, then extended his hand. "How are you, my friend?"
Grasping the hand of Tameron Innes, noting the silly grin on the face of his longtime friend and business partner, Reyn responded dryly, "Innes, I have always said you have a scatty sense of humor."
"And impeccable timing," Tam added as he winked at Jocelyn.
Reyn noticed the scarlet color that highlighted Jocelyn's cheek as she obviously remembered the intimate display Tam had witnessed. Good. It served as a reminder of to whom she belonged. Realizing the context of his thoughts, he scowled ferociously.
"What dreary thought just crossed your mind?" Tam asked. "You look as though you lost a shilling and found a sixpence."
Ignoring the question, Reyn continued to glower at Tam. "Sit down. You can explain the purpose of your visit."
"Do I need a reason, now that you have a wife?"
"Of course not," Jocelyn quickly inserted. "Look, here is our refreshment."
Tam beamed with open adoration at the tray before him, eagerly helping himself to a slice of the dark cake and tea. "Plum cake, my favorite. How kind of you to remember, Jocelyn."
Reyn, on the other hand, experiencing another surge of raw emotion, yanked a loose thread free from the edge of the settee. This woman never bothered to consider his preferences. At that moment he hated plum cake. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to ram the entire cake down his best friend's throat, drag Jocelyn, the true cause of his frustration, upstairs and ram himself into her. Repeatedly.
Ignorant of Reyn's simmering state of mind, she laughed and directed her next comment to him. "After Tam and I met, he visited often. One day on a picnic I happened to discover his penchant for sweets. He consumed an entire plum cake in one afternoon."
"How nice," Reyn responded decorously while his thoughts look on a darker edge. Sweets, indeed. "Exactly how did the two of you meet?"
Tam seemed more than willing to tell the story. "Early one morning, when riding the border between our properties, I heard the oddest sound beckoning me from the churning waters above Black Hare's Falls. Lo and behold, I spotted a flurry of yellow silk and white stockings clinging tenuously to a twisted limb trapped beside a huge boulder."
"I wasn't clinging," Jocelyn clarified. "I was crawling.
"Hah!" Tam snickered. "Anyway, Reyn, here crawled Jocelyn, deep into her rescue efforts of one enormous, agitated, thoroughly drenched black feline. I judged she ne
eded a bit of assistance. Being my gallant self, I jumped from Nobility into the freezing water, ruined my newest, most favorite riding trousers, soaked my boots, all to aid the enchanting damsel in distress. Only afterward did I discover she was the newly married wife of my best friend."
"I see." Reyn glanced speculatively at Jocelyn. "I assume I have Tam to thank for the annoying presence of that black devil who now terrorizes my halls?"
She nodded, then giggled like a nervous schoolgirl. "Caesar likes you."
"You would find the various attacks on my person by that overgrown beast humorous."
"The cat attacks you?" Tam asked.
"He prefers the toes, but trouser legs or dangling fingers will do. Just my being seems to incite the cat to violence. Poor Rebel practically swoons when the cat comes near him. So you can see, my friend, I'm not sure I should thank you for that bit of kindness."
"I also rescued your wife."
Reyn snorted, then took a sip of tea, already planning his next line of questioning.
"And have you continued your lessons?" Tam asked Jocelyn as he continued to consume the cake with zeal.
"What do you think?"
Locking his hands behind his head, Tam pretended to scold her. "I think, the moment you escaped my clutches, you abandoned them."
"And you are absolutely correct," Jocelyn admitted cheerfully.
The pair laughed as if sharing a secret joke, unaware of Reyn's wandering thoughts. While he waited like a forgotten schoolboy for someone to clarify the current topic, he watched his wife banter with Tam and realized that she seemed completely at ease. It was as though entertaining his friend came as naturally to her as waking in the morning.
Reyn found himself inspecting his friend of many years more closely. Equal in height, but more muscled than he, Tam owned a jovial manner. His bright green eyes, red-gold mane and handsome features captured the attentions of many a lady. Tam had been close at hand while he had been at sea for several months. Perhaps their relationship had become more intimate. Reyn shook his head at the absurd notion. Tameron Innes was one of his best friends. Jocelyn was simply being cordial. Reyn gritted his teeth. She never reacted like that with him.
Weary of being neglected, Reyn said, "What lessons?"
Tam explained. "When I discovered Jocelyn couldn't properly sit a horse, I took it upon myself to offer her my expertise." He commented to Jocelyn, "Perhaps we can schedule a lesson for today."
Jocelyn laughed. "I think not. My backside finally recovered, and I have no desire to be black and blue again.
"Coward," Tam said.
Excluded from the conversation yet again, Reyn sat as if he'd been banished to the corner. The uncertainty of Tam and Jocelyn's relationship grew by the moment. To that end, Reyn lashed out in exasperation. "Jocelyn, do you not have things to which you must attend?"
Although her eyes darkened over the blatant dismissal, she obeyed. "As a matter of fact, I shall go and exercise my feet and leave the two of you to your business. Dinner will be served at eight." She stopped at the large doorway, turned and smiled sweetly at Reyn. "By the way, my lord, tonight might be a perfect time to solicit the services of a food taster. Good day."
Tam looked perplexed. "Whatever did she mean?"
Reyn glared at the empty doorway. "I believe she just threatened to poison me."
"What?"
"Never mind." Reyn pivoted toward Tam. "What other lessons did you take upon yourself to teach her in my absence?"
Eyeing Reyn curiously, Tam said, "Would you care?"
"Don't bait me, my friend. I find I am not in the mood."
"Why do you suppose that is?"
Standing statue-like, feet braced apart, Reyn tried to gain control of his erratic behavior. He felt like a boar with a noseful of porcupine quills, and eagerly blamed Tam for his foul mood. Reyn deepened his scowl.
Crossing the sunlit room, Tam helped himself to a brandy. "All right, shall we talk about London instead?"
"Fine."
Undaunted by Reyn's surly attitude, Tam maintained his lighthearted mood. "I spent an enlightening evening with Woody."
Reyn's boot heels clicked on the oak floor as he advanced toward Tam and took the crystal decanter into his own hands. "I can only hope Walter will someday take a saber to you for fostering that ridiculous nickname."
"Perhaps, but let's not shift topics. Interesting talk in London these days. What do you think the odds are that a certain marriage is scalding the tips of the wagging tongues of the ton?"
Normally, Reyn enjoyed witty repartee, but today's chosen topic held little appeal. Eager to end the discussion before it began, he stated, "I am sure my marriage provides a great deal of twittering for all of London. Certainly, you have not fallen prey to the ennui endemic to ingenues and old women, and have more substantial news for me than idle gossip."
Tam kept silent for a moment only to retort, "Shock, disbelief, outrage, revulsion, delight. Everyone's initial reaction proved most interesting."
Reyn, succumbing to his curiosity, found himself asking, "And you. What did you think?"
"Ah. I had an advantage, you see. I met your wife before anyone else. I must admit, surprise can't adequately describe my feelings the day I discovered Jocelyn in that river, especially since you supposedly met while up north, under my very nose. By my calculations, you met, fell madly in love and married within four short hours. Then you sailed off to Spain. Peculiar start for a marriage, don't you think?"
Reyn groaned in dismay. Tam, a remarkable man with uncanny insight and a devil-may-care attitude, could be a royal pain in the ass. Lacking the benefit of a title never deterred him, for his tenacious spirit made him what he was today, one of the richest men in England. Knowing Tam would not relent until he had his say, Reyn said dryly, "I surmise you talked with Walter and already know the true nature of my marriage. Do you wish to offer your opinion?"
Shaking his head from side to side, Tam sighed. "I hoped Woody misinterpreted the situation."
Reyn easily detected the chastisement in his friend's voice. "Highly unlikely, given Walter's aptness for details."
Tam crossed to a nearby chair and sat. "Do you remember the first day my father became gamekeeper on your estate?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Humor me. My parents ignored propriety, welcomed you into our home and allowed us to become friends. Later, I asked my mother why she dared defy your father and she said you needed a loving family more than we needed the position. She offered you a happy refuge from your dim existence."
The alcove by the window suddenly felt too restrictive. Reyn began to pace about the room, absently examining a collection of oil paintings on the far wall. He stopped beside the celestial globe mounted on a mahogany stand.
Tam continued. "The more your parents fought, the more you escaped to our house, and the more my mother and father tried to show you that love could and did exist. Do you remember the time my father and you built that tree house?"
Reyn tried to focus on the constellations dotting the small globe, but his mind saw only himself as a small boy, desperate for some small token of affection. He had adored Tam's father, Liam. As they built a special fort, Liam had prodded, pushed, and picked until Reyn snapped. Reyn had called Liam every name in the book. Even threw a shovel at him. Reyn broke into tears. Liam pulled Reyn into his arms, offering fatherly words of wisdom. Reyn needed to know one could behave horridly and still be loved. That people fought, but still loved. Mortified that he had allowed his emotions to run wild, Reyn had immediately assumed his ducal air. He thanked Liam for the lesson and explained that he understood life quite well.
"Well, do you remember?" asked Tam.
Abruptly spinning the painted sphere, Reyn said, "Hell no. I was thirteen years old."
"Odd how you remember your age, but not the event itself."
"Is there a point to all this?"
"You have been given an incredible gift, yet you refus
e to open the package."
"I can only assume that this insight into my past has something to do with my wife."
A wolfish grin curled Tam's lips. "So you finally said the word."
In his mind, up until moments ago, Jocelyn had been referred to as she, her, that woman, and many other epithets too scathing to mention. Already afraid of the implication, Reyn grunted. "Wife is perhaps the wrong choice of word."
"Pity. I've known you for fifteen years, and if you are as intelligent as I know you are, you will rectify that situation. Today."
"An interesting recommendation coming from a man who has forsworn marriage for the rest of his days."
Tam stared into space for a moment before answering. "A man could make an exception for a charming woman like Jocelyn."
Irked by that offhanded comment, Reyn raised his eyebrows, analyzing his friend's true intent and whether it made a difference. "I can't believe that after life with Lisette, you would trust so blindly, knowing that Jocelyn is playing us all false."
"My wife was a cunning, beautiful bitch. Greed and malice directed her actions. Jocelyn is kind, gentle and caring. Her actions are guided by fear. She needs help and someone to trust. You could be that someone. Unlike you, I believe two people, the right two people, can find happiness together."
Reyn snorted at the absurdity of the suggestion.
"Good Lord, Reyn, you deserve some happiness in your life. Forget the past. You aren't your father. Jocelyn isn't your mother, nor is she some mystery woman bent on your destruction. As my mother would say, a ray of sunshine has landed on your window sill. Don't be foolish enough to close the curtains."
Damn Tam's Scottish insight. It frightened Reyn. He wanted to lash out at someone. "You wax poetic, Tam, like the finest of lords. Do you possibly have any other bits of wisdom to share?"
"No. I know when you have closed your mind to anything I might say. I'm not in the mood to beat some sense into that thick skull of yours. If you're determined to play the fool, so be it. I am here if you need me." Tam pulled an envelope from his jacket. "Maddox sent this missive."