Remember My Love

by Elise Dee Beraru

  Telling himself he hated such displays, Blair stiffened uncomfortably, then slowly--and astonishingly--drew his arms around her shoulders and held her while she cried. Amazingly, as he held her, it became more and more natural to him and he gently tightened his hold, raising one hand to cup her head to his chest. The man who hated women didn't even notice that her tears were dampening his shirtfront. Her hair felt so soft under his hand; her slender body seemed to melt into his as no woman in his memory ever had. It seemed so right it surprised him.

  Finally, Adele's sobbing diminished and she became aware of her position. She bolted upright, wiping her cheeks with her hand. Blair handed her his handkerchief to finish the job.

  "Now, suppose you tell me what's happened," he said.

  She told him about Donelli. Blair swore violently at the news.

  "Why come to Stephen?"

  "Uh, because he's a lawyer. I thought maybe he'd know what I could do."

  "It's plain what you need is another job."

  "But what? After what's happened my reputation is worthless, even if Donelli writes me a glowing recommendation. Besides, I can't work as a dressmaker."

  "Why not? I've never had garments better made than these. Antonio himself doesn't sew this well."

  "And you've never seen me in anything except ready to wear. Mr. Carroll...."

  "Now that you've cried all over my shirt, I think it's time you started calling me Blair."

  "I come from a farm in Wyoming. I've never made anything but patchwork quilts, serviceable, plain dresses and men's clothes. I've never used silk for anything but a lining. I've certainly never owned or even tried on a silk gown. I know very little about the mode in women's fashion. How could I possibly compete with experienced ladies' dressmakers? And why would I want to make dresses for women who would accuse me of accepting indecent propositions from their husbands? I'm a respectable woman. I've always prided myself on my integrity."

  "Somehow, Mrs. Strange--Adele, isn't it--it doesn't surprise me in the least. You are a very unusual woman, I've found," he added uncomfortably.

  "I'm not so unusual where I come from, Mr. Carroll--Blair."

  "Do you like children, Adele?"

  Adele smiled. "Why I love children, Blair!"

  "Maybe I've another solution. Stephen tells me my son is afraid of his governess. She is an old battle-ax. But he says all he talks about after you come here with clothes for him is `Miss Adele' this and `Miss Adele' that. Why don't I let her go and you be Joshua's governess?"

  "I can't do that."

  "Why not? It seems simple enough."

  "I wish it were. First, I'd hate to be the cause of another person's losing her job...."

  "I was probably going to have to do it anyway."

  "Second, I have a family. I have an eleven-month-old baby, an adult younger sister and a tomcat. I can't leave them in a boarding house while I take care of someone else's child. Third, I have very little education beyond what my father and mother taught me themselves. I'm hardly governess material."

  Blair frowned. "You can keep your baby in the nursery with Joshua. Stephen would probably approve of the boy having a playmate. And I suppose the cat will own the house within ten minutes of moving in. How old is your sister?"

  "Eighteen. And she works."

  "This house isn't exactly full, what with two bachelors and a child. I'm sure we can find an empty room for your sister. You probably make a sufficient chaperon for her. Is she seeing anyone socially?"

  "Yes." Good, he doesn't know. "She's being courted by a very nice young man. I think they're serious about each other."

  "Well then, she'll be married and out of the house soon anyway. What's her young man do?"

  "Actually, he's an attorney."

  "Does my brother know him?"

  "Stephen knows him as well as anyone would."

  "And as to your education level, what the boy needs is an adult supervisor until he can start school. Nursemaid is too condescending a title. While governess isn't exact, it will do for now." Before Adele could make another objection, he slapped his hands on his thighs and said, "Good, then it's settled. How soon can you start?"

  Adele frowned suspiciously. "Mr. Carroll, why are you being so nice to me? You don't even like me."

  "What gave you that impression?"

  "You don't seem to have much regard for women in general."

  "Most of the women I've met have been largely ornamental. I can't stand anything useless. Most women aren't bred for productive pursuits. They're a complete waste of time."

  "And I'm a woman...."

  Blair picked up her hands and held them palms up. "Look at your hands, farm girl," he said with surprising tenderness. "Your hands show that you've worked hard all your life. I'd be willing to bet you were never an ornament to anyone, not even your husband. I'll bet you walked behind the plow spreading seeds behind him...."

  "When I wasn't pushing the plow myself."

  "That's just it. You've earned these hands. There's strength in every inch of you. You're the most interesting woman I've ever met."

  Adele slid her hands under his. "Your hands show the remains of calluses and scars. You're a businessman. You wear custom-tailored suits and sit behind a desk. How do you explain your hands?"

  Blair stiffened. He pulled his hands away, stood up and walked toward the French doors that led to the outside of the house. "I can't explain them, because I don't know how they got that way. I've been able to speculate about how I came to lose my finger, but the remainder is a mystery."

  Adele looked at him. His gray eyes were dark with misery. Her arms ached to gather him to her, but she knew the timing was wrong. He would not be likely to accept comforting in his current incarnation. Hastily, she said, "I must go. I left my sister with the baby. I've got to get back home."

  "When can you start?"

  "You tell me and I'll give notice at the boarding house and start packing."

  "Three days, then. Let me get Lopez to take you home."

  WHEN ADELE GOT home, Susannah and Stephen were waiting in the parlor, having forgone going out until she got back. Adele ran to Stephen and threw her arms around him.

  "Oh, Stephen, I'm so happy."

  "What's happened, Sissy?"

  "Susannah, I've got a new job--and you're not going to believe it."

  "What is it?"

  "I'm going to be Joshua's governess. We move out of here in three days. Blair's going to put us all up, even Little Gent. Oh, go, have a nice evening. I'll explain everything in the morning."

  Once outside, Stephen looked at Susannah. "Did you understand any of that?"

  "Not really, except it sounds like we're going to be living under the same roof."

  Stephen closed his eyes. "Oh, God, no."

  Susannah got defensive. "What's the matter with you?"

  "With you so close by, I'll never be able to keep my hands off you."

  Susannah pulled him into an embrace. "I'm not going to complain, my darling."

  He bent down and crushed her lips with his. His kiss was demanding and possessive. He pressed her against his length; she could feel the hard ridge of his desire building in him. Mischievously she slid her hand between them.

  He released her with a gasp.

  In the gaslight, her brown eyes were smoky with desire. "Just think. Once I'm living in your house, I can finally get a look at that."

  "Oh, you'll get more than a look, I assure you."

  "I can hardly wait."

  Chapter 14

  THREE DAYS later, Adele, Susannah and Bea took up residence in the Carroll mansion. Adele moved her things into the nanny's bedroom adjoining the nursery. A crib last used when Stephen was an infant was brought down from the attic, thoroughly cleaned and put in place for Beatrice to use.

  Adele went into this new living arrangement with a great deal of foreboding. Though it seemed to serve the purpose she, Susannah and Stephen had discussed in the Chinese restaurant of putting h
er where she would be more in Blair's company, Adele was far from certain this would work. Independently, however, the idea of taking care of Joshua Carroll pleased her enormously. She thought he was a bright and delightful boy who had suffered a tremendous amount of upheaval in his very short life. She was willing to love and care for him merely because he was Blair's child. She quickly found herself loving him for himself.

  Joshua was overjoyed. He was already more than a little bit in love with Adele from when she was fitting his new clothes. His former governess had stifled him with her overbearing strictness. Now he laughed, sang and chattered merrily. He tried to take possession of both Beatrice and Little Gent as his own. Beatrice loved his tickling and teasing and silly little songs. She followed him around as fast and far as her toddler's legs would allow. Joshua was so happy to have a playmate, even one who was still a baby, he purposely slowed down so he could keep Beatrice's hand in his as he walked her around the house. When she would plop down on her bottom and laugh, Joshua would find himself laughing with her, sharing her delight at her newly developing skill.

  Little Gent was having none of it. Children were, after all, far beneath his feline dignity. He did, however, decide to adopt Blair, who would often unceremoniously carry him by the scruff of the neck and deposit him back in the nursery, only to find the little tom sleeping on his bed when he would turn in at night. Blair did not know what prompted Little Gent's behavior, since he could not remember that in Wyoming the cat often curled up on his lap when he read and would sleep in whichever bed in the house suited his fancy. Little Gent had always been partial to the scent of Brian Strange and this was the same man with the same scent as far as he was concerned.

  Susannah blossomed. She set up in the little servant's room in the eaves like it was her own private atelier. She left every day with her easel and workbox to the railroad station, the square or the park where she would sketch people for a fee for hours. She started wearing her hair up. She began to spend the money she earned from her drawings on fashionable clothes that made her look so sophisticated that Stephen began to take her places where he could show her off.

  She usually met Stephen outside the house and entered separately when they returned. They decided not to spring their growing relationship on Blair for fear of complicating matters.

  About a week after they moved in, Susannah visited with Adele in the nursery, joining Bea and Joshua in play and then wished them goodnight. As she walked down the hall toward the back stairs, she checked to see if the coast was clear. Then she knocked twice on Stephen's closed door. He opened it and swept her in, locking the door behind him.

  "Did anyone see you?" Stephen asked breathlessly.

  "No," she responded confidently.

  "Adele?"

  "In the nursery with the kids, sewing Joshua's clothes. Blair?"

  "Blair's out with business associates. He'll probably come home too drunk to hear anything."

  "Then we're alone."

  "Good." His arms were about her, crushing her to him. His mouth slanted against hers as he plunged the depths of her mouth, tasting her overwhelming sweetness. Her tongue dueled his, twisting and caressing. She nibbled on his lower lip and trailed wet kisses across his five o'clock shadowed cheek.

  "It's been a long day," she said, stretching. She was well aware that reaching back thrust her full bosom into greater prominence.

  Taking the hint, Stephen swept her up and carried her to his bed. He fell with her into its soft feather mattress and she wrapped her arms around him, feeling his whipcord leanness through the fine linen of his shirt. Susannah had grown up in the presence of work-muscled farm hands; first her father, then the reapers, then the massive musculature Blair had developed during the two years he lived with them in Wyoming. It often amazed her that she was so aroused by his reed slender younger brother. She pulled Stephen's face down to meet hers and plundered his mouth as he had done hers.

  Stephen's hands roamed along her sides. Pulling her upright, he quickly undid the buttons down the back of her basque and pushed it down about her waist. Her chest heaved, causing her full breasts to strain against her muslin chemise. He bent down and began to suckle at her nipples through the thin fabric, feeling them tighten into hard buds.

  "Please," she gasped, "I can't breathe. Let me up."

  He did. She slid off the bed and turned to face him. With a wanton smile on her lips she pulled her arms out of her basque sleeves and dropped it to the ground. Untying the tapes that held her skirt and petticoats she slid them off her hips. Then, with agonizing slowness, she unhooked her corset hook by hook and dropped it on top of the pile. As she watched, she saw Stephen's desire growing harder by the minute beneath the meager protection of his trousers.

  Susannah took a step towards the bed and Stephen grabbed her by both arms and pulled her on top of him. She kissed him full on the mouth and then drifted down to kiss the hollow at the base of his throat. Stephen yanked the hairpins out of her hair and put his fingers through the thick sable mass until he'd spread it out over her back. She began to undo the small bone buttons on the front of his shirt, following the opening with nips and kisses, nuzzling her nose in his thick wiry mat of black chest hair. She thought briefly in passing that the Carroll men were both finely furred--and that she liked it in Stephen--very much indeed. She felt no guilt whatsoever at these thoughts. She was an artist--a creature of the senses. Such observations were her nature.

  Susannah reached the waistband of Stephen's trousers and began to pull his shirttails out of his pants. She spread his shirt open and followed the path of her hands to one of his flat copper paps. She nibbled on the sensitive bud until he nearly screamed.

  In a quick move he had her on her back. Sitting beside her, he pulled open the buttons on her boots and drew them off. The misshapen boot that protected her clubfoot was harder to remove, but he gently pulled it off. Her stockings followed. He kissed her legs, beginning behind her knees and working his way down each calf as he uncovered it. He then positioned himself to sit between her thighs and bent her knees so her feet rested on his chest. He slipped his hands between his chest and her feet and laced his fingers between her toes, using his thumbs to massage her soles. Susannah moaned in her desire as he continued to massage her feet. A languid heat flowed through her starting at the base of her womanhood that lay partially open to him through the unsewn seam of her pantalets.

  Stephen again shifted until he straddled her. He loosened the drawstring that held the top of her chemise and the waistband of her pantalets. He pulled both garments off so she was naked to his gaze. He shrugged off his shirt and reached for her. He ran his hands up her ribcage from her hips until he hefted the weight of her firm, full breasts in his hands. She was soft and gently round--almost plump--and it drove Stephen wild to touch her. As she had done to him, he took one pale pink nipple in his mouth and suckled possessively, raising the nipple to a hard pebble. Susannah moaned as lightning shot through her again and again. Stephen shifted to the other nipple and Susannah was sure her body would explode with sensation.

  With his hands still caressing her breasts, Stephen once more took possession of her mouth, then lowered himself so his chest flattened her breasts against him. Both of them were breathing raggedly, unconsciously grunting and groaning as they caressed each other. He rose slightly and looked at her eyes. They were smoky with desire. She stared back at eyes dark as steel yet almost glowing silver.

  "I know you're a virgin, Susannah," Stephen rasped. "I've never been with a virgin before, but I need you desperately. This is your last chance to say `no,' Susannah. If you do, I'll stop right now, even if it kills me. But from this point on there's no turning back."

  "I love you, Stephen. I don't ever want to say no to you," she murmured.

  "It may hurt some," he warned.

  "I can bear it."

  Stephen rose to his knees and unbuttoned his fly, then slid his long legs out of the trousers. His manhood sprung out--long, thick and b
lood-engorged with need for her.

  "Oh, my!" she gasped. "You are so beautiful!"

  "Open for me, Susannah."

  Her thighs parted and he touched her dark mound. She was moist and open as her hips rose to meet his hand. Stephen knew she was never so ready as now and he thrust home with one powerful stroke, piercing her fragile maidenhead as she bit her lip to keep from screaming in pain and pleasure. She was small, tight and wet inside and the rubbing of his engorged organ within her small passage raised both his arousal and her sensation. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he thrust again and again. Her nails dug into his back and she moaned more and more, her vaginal muscles trying to draw him further inside her.

  Suddenly, wave after wave of powerful explosion crashed through her. Her body became covered with a sheen of perspiration and her eyes closed as her climax shattered her. With a groan, Stephen released his seed deep inside her until he collapsed, spent and sated, on top of her.

  She held him in her arms, hardly feeling his weight on her, and stroked his coal black waves, lacing them through her fingers. His breathing evened out until she knew he had drifted off to sleep. She nudged him until he rolled off her and covered him with the sheet and coverlet, with her snuggling beside him until she, too, closed her eyes for the night.

  When Stephen woke up the next morning, Susannah was gone, having gathered up her things and sneaked up to her room to avoid suspicion. The only hints to her presence were a few hairpins in the bed, a trace of blood on the sheet and--he saw later in the mirror as he dressed--some very noticeable love bites on his neck and shoulders.

  Touching the marks she left on him as tenderly as he would have touched her, Stephen said aloud, "Soon, beloved, you won't have to leave before dawn. Soon you will be mine forever."

  A FIRE CUT down the March chill, but did little to warm the atmosphere of the office Blair kept at home. The furnishings were heavy and Victorian; mahogany desk, bookshelves and filing cabinets; dark leather wing and desk chairs; dark wood paneling; heavy curtains. The overall impression was oppressively somber. It was a room fit for an individual who was trying very hard to keep contentment and happiness out of his life.