by Diane Story
“Rowen please, you’re embarrassing me. I’ve told you I won’t allow us to make love. It just isn’t meant to be. Besides, we don’t love each other. That may seem a bit on the old fashioned side to you, but love is important to me, it always has been.”
“Just admit you’re curious, Fern. We would be dynamite together and you know it.” Rowen knew it would be like fire against fire, their union would be fantastic. He’d never been so physically attracted to a woman. As he waited for her reply he imagined his hands pressed against the small of her back as they exacted their pleasure from each other. How her small waist blended with her rounded hips and thighs. Torture, pure and simple.
“Physical attraction is exactly what it is, all it is, Rowen, but for me, love comes first. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sleep now.” Rolling over, she tried to keep the vivid image of what he was talking about off her mind. “Tomorrow is the eleventh, isn’t it? We have only seven days left; let’s get some sleep, all right? Goodnight!” Closing her eyes, she tried to force the image of Rowen’s muscled arms holding her as he made love to her under the moon out of her mind; it was with that image that she finally fell into a restless sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I’ll go for the doctor, Sarah! Lie back down until my return.” Jonathan had arrived home late to find Sarah awake, writhing in pain. Her labor had started while he was with Rowen and Fern.
“No, don’t leave me again, I need ye here, Jonathan!” Sarah practically screamed the words as if they were being torn from her body like the child that was so impatient to make its arrival into the world. She’d been laboring all day and all night with no relief, she wasn’t about to be left alone again.
“I must go fetch the doctor, Sarah, ye need his help to deliver our child. Now, let go of my hand so I can go find him.” Her pretty young face was twisted into a grimace. He did care about her, not the same as he did for his Mary, but enough to hate seeing her in this agony. “Please wife, let go. It won’t do our child any good if his mother dies. Let me go for help, I promise to return once I have found him.” He watched the tear slip down her cheek, and wiped it away with his free hand.
“To the devil with ye, Jonathan Nichols, go then if ye must. I’ll bear my child alone.” Sarah turned her head to the side and bit back the scream that had welled up in her throat from the strong contraction. If her papa were here from the other colony he’d have beaten Jonathan for leaving her again.
Although it was morning, it was still dark as Jonathan made his way from farm to farm looking for the village doctor. His wife said he’d gone to the Solomon Farm to tend to one of their eight children that had fallen from a tree, but when Jonathan arrived he’d already left. He would have to go back and assist in the birth of their child alone if he didn’t find him soon. By the time the sun shined bright, he’d come to the conclusion that he would have to go back and deliver his child on his own. There was only one other soul in Salem Village capable of birthing a child and he’d never call on her for help.
But when he heard Sarah’s screams before he could tether his horse he knew she was in trouble. She lay in bed still with her face wrenched in pain, drenched from sweat with eyes that begged him for relief. “My darling wife, I am sorry to be gone so long. I have been unable to find the doctor. I will need to deliver our child myself.”
Sarah’s next scream came from deep within her lungs. With brows creased, she looked at Jonathan in disbelief. “My husband, ye cannot help me. Go for Elizabeth Wilds, Jonathan, I fear I am to die soon without help, please go, husband.”
Jonathan watched as she rolled from side to side. But it was the blood pooling underneath her hips that made him move. “Aye, I will go fetch the witch as ye wish me to, my wife.”
* * * *
Fern hardly slept a wink. It wasn’t due to discomfort. Oh no! The bed was downy soft, engulfing her in its folds. It was the knowledge of Rowen sleeping across the room from her that kept her awake. After realizing he’d seen her undress, she couldn’t keep her mind off him or how it made her feel. She couldn’t believe it took going back in time over two hundred years to start questioning her virginity. Rowen was able to heat her up with just one of his looks, a sensation she wasn’t accustomed to.
He was still asleep when she decided it would be a good idea to get up. She didn’t want him to see her nude again if she could help it. Quietly she slipped out from underneath the quilt and reached for her clothing. She would tiptoe past him to the other room and get dressed before he woke up. She was just past the settee and smiling to herself when he spoke, bringing her to a halt.
“Sneaking away so early, Fern?” Rowen watched her through barely opened eyes. She stood with her back to him and her clothes clutched to her chest. As disappointed as he was that he couldn’t see her beautiful face, he didn’t mind. Because her derrière was just as amazing. He remembered the feel of it in his hands when they were at the ocean. But now as she stood there in front of him, he could see from his point of view where her long legs ended and those soft mounds began. Perfect, just perfect.
“I’m not sneaking away, I just wanted to get dressed so we would be ready to go when you woke up.” Turning her head, Fern didn’t move. She looked down at him and blushed when she saw how he was scrutinizing her body. Funny, it didn’t make her feel uncomfortable, just sort of warm all over. “If you’ll excuse me, Rowen, I’ll go get dressed now.” Her feet felt like logs; she realized she actually didn’t want to leave. She was intrigued with how he made her feel.
“Just one kiss to start the day, Fern.” With gentle hands her circled her small waist and brought her around to face him. “Just one kiss, is that too much to ask?”
Rowen had somehow managed to get up without her knowing. Fern felt his hot breath stroke the nape of her neck before his strong fingers sunk into her waist. Slowly he turned her back around, bringing her close to his body. With their faces only inches apart, she clung to her dress, thinking she wouldn’t allow herself this pleasure. She tried yelling in her mind to break the spell he held her under, but when breast raked against breast she lost the battle. As his lips descended to hers, she was forced to respond in a way she didn’t know she was capable of. Her fingers relaxed and the dress fell to a heap on the floor.
Rowen’s hands fell to her derriere instantly. Cupping the firm mounds in each of his hands he drew her hips close until she was pressed hard against him. He wanted her to feel what she was doing to him. As her dress fell and he felt the fullness of her breasts against his chest he growled deep in his throat, and pulled her so close that he felt sure their bodies would mold into one. His fingers slipped into the crease where her legs merged with her bottom then up gently to caress the soft skin of her delicate shoulders. His mouth hungrily claimed hers in heated determination.
Fern rolled her head back, allowing Rowen access to her neck when his lips slid down to bite her chin, sending shivers down her spine. She could feel her pulse as it beat hard against his lips and wondered if his was doing the same. Her whimpers of pleasure escaped before she could stop them and she was rendered completely helpless when in one swift movement Rowen picked her up against his chest and carried her back to the bed.
Rowen smiled devilishly as he gently spread his body over Fern’s. He was completely under her spell and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. She lay engulfed in the deep folds of the down mattress with her copper hair strewn about her head like a female lioness. Propping himself up with his hands by her head, he looked down in her eyes. “What to do, what to do. Can you tell me what I should do with you, Fern?” He drummed his fingers on the pillow next to her hair. Her pupils transfixed him as they expanded then shrunk as she watched him. “Damn it, Fern, you are a lovely vixen. You have absolutely no clue what you do to me, do you?” He didn’t know why she insisted on teasing him in this way; all he knew was that he couldn’t resist her. God help him, he had to have her.
Fern’s lips parted in heated
anticipation. When Rowen lowered himself to take her mouth again she greeted him eagerly as if she was starved for what he was offering. It was as if a woman other than herself had stepped into her body and soul, taking over and letting her feel what she should refuse. She didn’t care that she lay naked in the arms of Rowen Nichols allowing him to make love to her, bringing her pleasure she never knew existed. Only his breeches separated their hips, but she knew what he wanted, it was apparent each time he pressed himself against her. As he devoured her mouth, then her neck, then on down to caress her quivering abdomen with butterfly kisses, she couldn’t keep her mouth closed any longer. “Oh my…! Rowen!” The words scorched her throat when his lips circled one of the soft erect peaks of her breasts. She wasn’t quite sure what it was that finally woke her from her delirium; maybe it was the shock of how intense his lovemaking had become. But her mind began to scream, louder with each beat of her racing heart. Stop, she had to stop, they had to stop. “Please, Rowen! We must stop!”
Rowen had never tasted skin like Fern’s; it was so pure and perfect. He let his tongue trace the perfect mound of each breast over and over but always came back to each peak to savor the feel of her body as it reacted in response. His mind was blank; he didn’t hear her pleas for him to stop. Her body was telling him a different story and he wouldn’t or actually couldn’t stop the fire that had settled between his loins. It wasn’t until he felt her knee come up between them that her words rang clear. As the shock of what she’d just done drove its way home he couldn’t help but let loose with a disgusting reply in language he normally wasn’t capable of. Grasping his hand to his mouth to keep himself from vomiting, he rolled away from her in painful retreat.
Fern lay breathing hard against the pillow. Her eyes blinked several times as she tried to bring her mind back from wherever the hell Rowen had taken it. He lay next to her side breathing just as heavy, but his panting was now from pain, not the same delicious pleasure she was still reeling from. Her voice was hoarse from her cries of pleasure when she finally dared to speak. “I’m sorry, Rowen. I tried to stop you but you weren’t listening. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“For Christ sakes, Fern, you could have done anything but that. Bite me, slap me, but never ever kick me in the groin. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make love to a woman again.” Rowen rolled to his side and curled into a ball; if he held still maybe he’d keep himself from vomiting.
“It isn’t r...right Rowen” She stuttered. “I mean, now isn’t the time. I want you, that I can’t deny. But lovemaking is supposed to be special, loving. I cannot give my virginity for the sake of desire, I just can’t.” Jumping to her feet, she snatched her dress and underclothing from the floor. “The river is just a few yards out back, Rowen, I’m going to go gather some water for a bath before we leave.” Before he could reply she let the door slam behind her.
It took Rowen almost an hour to regain his composure. When finally he was able to sit up, he gathered his clothing and got dressed. He’d had a lot of time to think about what Fern said. He didn’t know any other women like her. In the last ten years he couldn’t ever remember a time that he ever had to coax a woman to his bed.
Oh sure, they wanted his money and would do anything for it. But never had he met one that challenged his libido as much as Fern. From the day he’d first laid eyes on her, he was attracted to her both physically and emotionally. They were linked, and he knew it. He’d always known it. He couldn’t remember when he had actually ever fallen in love… “Love?” He spoke the word out loud before he realized Fern had returned.
“What about love?” Fern smiled at him as she made her way across the room. Her hair was still wet as it clung to her neck. She’d decided to bathe in the river instead of bringing water up for the bath. It was perfect, and helped cool her down so that she could get her thoughts back on track. “I guess I should apologize again for hurting you, Rowen.” Sitting down by his side, she took his hand in hers and held it tight against her lap. “Please forgive me for hurting you, I promise it will never happen again. Just promise me that we’ll never find ourselves in that predicament again, and we’ll both be safe.”
Rowen swallowed a lump as her fingers gently rubbed the back of his hand. “Love!” He looked back up and met her eyes. “While you were gone I lay here crumpled in pain. And as I thought about our situation, I began to realize how much you have come to mean to me.” He picked up her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “I want you, desperately. And if it takes until we are back home, I’ll have you. I promise you this Fern; I will be your first, and your last.” Releasing her hand he stood and looked down into her beautiful wide eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have my own bath to attend to.” Whistling a tune of satisfaction through his lips, he left her to stare after him. He might have walked a little more bowlegged than normal, but he wouldn’t let her see he was still in pain.
By the time Rowen came back Fern was busy plotting ways to get home. She had Rowen’s note pad and was trying to think of anything about the man at Elizabeth’s house that seemed familiar. “Rowen, can you think of anything familiar about that man? I know we didn’t see him, but I thought his voice sounded familiar. I’ve tried to think of all the places we’ve been since we’ve been here and there haven’t been that many. Maybe we should retrace our steps.”
Rowen stood over Fern and looked down at the notes she had written on the note pad. “Yes, I agree, Fern. The voice was familiar.” Sitting down, he took the pad and wrote down the numbers one through ten then started writing his own notes. One by one they listed all the places they’d been. By process of elimination, they realized there were only actually two men they’d heard speak. Judge Hauthorn and Jonathan.
“Why don’t we go back to the village and find Judge Hauthorn, Rowen. You can think of a reason to speak with him while I listen. We know the voice wasn’t Jonathan’s, so it must be the judge’s.” Then she frowned. “But then, what would Sarah Nichols want with Judge Hauthorn? He must be three times her age. Elizabeth said Sarah was his adulteress. That wouldn’t make sense, would it?” She grimaced at the thought of it.
Rowen shook his head. “I agree. But now that I think about it, there are no writings in my family journals about Sarah having an affair. Maybe we heard the old witch wrong.”
“No, I heard her loud and clear, Rowen. Elizabeth called Sarah his adulteress. Maybe your family was too ashamed to write down that part of your history. And really, if Mary is actually hung from the gallows, Sarah would have never had to tell. The truth would actually have never been told. Do we know if the judge is married?”
“We’ll know by the end of the day, I’ll guarantee that.” Rowen folded the note pad and tucked it into the pocket of his coat. “Ready?”
* * * *
Elizabeth handed Jonathan his newborn son without caring if the bastard child fell from her arms in the transition. “Take thy child, Jonathan Nichols, so that I can take my leave of this place.”
Jonathan looked down at the downy blond hair and frowned. “Tis it normal for a child to have hair different from his parents, Elizabeth Wilds?”
Elizabeth cackled as she dragged her tired feet away from the bed. “Tis not normal, Jonathan Nichols. Might’s ye have words with thy wife after I take my leave? The truth lies in her heart.”
Jonathan watched her leave then turned back to look at the sleeping face of his wife. The tiny cry of the infant brought his attention back to look at the little face. The eyes were dark but they took focus nonetheless. His heart raced, this child was not of his blood, how could he have been so blind? Gently, he placed the babe next to Sarah then turned and left the room.
It seemed hours before Sarah woke. Jonathan heard the child cry and the soft soothing of his mother’s words before he became quiet again. Choosing to ignore her calling for him, he sat in front of the dark empty fireplace and contemplated how to handle his situation. He would go back to his and Mary’s cottage and ask Rowen wha
t he knew of this child. He would know whom his wife had bedded down with and he would make him take responsibility for the child. He would have grounds for divorce. His heart leapt at the thought of a life with Mary. But all too soon his exuberation was stilled. Sarah would be put to death for adultery, but not before telling the judge of his own affair with Mary. With his head in his hands he wept, as his wife continued to call for him from the other room and the child’s shrill cry chilled him to the bone.
* * * *
It was noon by the time Fern and Rowen closed the door of the cottage behind them. They’d decided to look for Judge Hauthorn first as Rowen wanted to hear his voice again. “Fern, I think we’ll find him at the court, don’t you? We can sit in and listen to him condemn another poor woman to her death for witchcraft.”
“I suppose so. Rowen! If we decide his voice is the one we heard at Elizabeth’s house, what will we do then? I mean, nobody will listen to us. I wonder if we really know what we’re doing?” Fern held tight to Rowen’s back as the horse stepped over a pile of rocks. She didn’t pull away once she became steady again and neither did he. She let her hand rest against his shirt where she felt the firm muscles against her fingertips.
Rowen tried to ignore Fern’s hand. She was doing that funny little tickle thing again that drove him nuts. “I think I would like to try and visit Mary again today, Fern. Maybe if she knows our plans, it’ll give her hope.”
“I agree, Rowen. The villagers treat her so badly. Maybe we can take her some food and drink. When I was locked in there all night they didn’t bother to bring either food or water. It was horrible.”
Rowen felt her lay her head against his shoulder as she talked. They hadn’t spoken about her night in the cell; it wasn’t something he wanted to think about. It was bad enough that the old lady had managed to cold cock him in the head and kidnap her out from underneath him, literally. He still sported a bruise on his temple over that. He stiffened again when he felt her cheek rub against his shoulder blade. What he’d give to get down from the horse and lay her down in the thick Hydrilla Grass. “What do you plan to do when we get back home, Fern? I know you buy and sell antiques, do you think you’ll have an advantage now that you’ve actually seen some of the antiques you sell, when they were new?”