“Well, Miss, you will marry your young man as I said. He’ll cause you much grief and worry, but in the end, all will be well.” Maggie grinned, showing uneven teeth.
Allison grasped her gnarled hand. “Will there be babies?”
Maggie’s eyes took on a faraway look. “Aye, babes there will be.”
Allison was delighted. “I dearly love children! Tell me more.”
“Your children won’t bear the Flanders name.”
“Oh, Mag! Don’t tell me that you’ve been wrong…”
“Nay, believe what I tell you, and as far as the manor is concerned, it shall belong to those who owned it first.”
Maggie’s words stunned Allison. What was the old woman jabbering about? “That’s ridiculous. Fairfax Manor has always belonged to the Fairfax family.”
Maggie waved her away. “That’s enough, Miss. I see you don’t believe me, and so I won’t be wasting my time on you. Now get on with you. My bones pain me.”
“There’s something else you’re not saying,” Allison persisted.
“I’ve told you enough. ‘Tis up to you what you will do with the knowledge.”
She dismissed Allison by closing her eyes and resting her head against the wall. Allison left the cabin and retraced her steps across the meadow, pondering Maggie’s words. Clearly the woman was failing in health and perhaps the pain had affected her mind, causing her to say such strange things.
Allison rushed back to the manor and prayed that night would come quickly. More than anything she wanted Paul’s comforting arms around her, ached to feel his warmth against her body and wipe her doubts away.
4
The quiet of the night hung suspended over the countryside as Allison ran stealthily across the meadow to seek the refuge of the forest. Only minutes earlier she had silently crept down the hallway from her room, aware of every creak of the floor boards and holding her breath for fear that Cecelia would discover her; but all was silent in her aunt’s room and no one halted her.
Soon she waited beside the pond, clutching her cape about her shoulders, fearful that perhaps she had acted rashly, and also more than a little worried that Paul wouldn’t come. She lifted her eyes to the starry heavens, hoping her mother watched her from above and made a silent prayer. “Am I doing the right thing, Mama, or am I being foolish?” If her mother answered, Allison didn’t know, for at that moment she heard the crunch of dried leaves upon the forest floor and glancing in the direction of the sound, she saw Paul.
“I was almost afraid you wouldn’t dare to come,” he whispered as he took her in his arms.
Burrowing her face in the warmth of his shoulder, she sighed, then looked up at him, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Paul Flanders, you’ve cast a spell over me, I think. This is totally unlike me. I’ve never knowingly disobeyed my aunt’s wishes in my entire life!”
“Ah, my love, that’s because no one has ever made you feel this way.” He chuckled, but a watchfulness dwelled in his eyes.
“Why is that?” she asked and fluttered her lashes like a coy flirt.
Without replying, he tilted her chin and looked deeply into her eyes, seeming to see something there of which Allison was unaware. She drank in his nearness, dizzy with the realization that he was about to instruct her in the ways of love. His arms wrapped around her like a protective blanket, and she melted into him, aware of his strength. His mouth covered hers, gently at first, but the pressure grew more demanding as his lips burned hers like fire.
His mouth moved to the hollow of her throat, tracing delicious patterns with his tongue along the way. Shivers rippled through her as he awakened her to the primitive need beginning to throb through her body. Paul’s hands removed her cape, then he lowered her to the soft grass on which it rested.
“Paul, I love you,” she whispered as he reached into the bodice of her gown but when he touched her breasts, she gasped. His face was dark above hers, and she was grateful she couldn’t clearly discern his features or see the disappointment there. “We—we must stop this,” she faltered.
“I’ll be gentle, Allison, if that’s what disturbs you.”
She stifled a sob. How could she tell him the reason she wished to stop was because she had so very little to offer him, that her breasts were small and nothing like a woman’s should be? “I know you won’t hurt me, but—please, I’d like to go home…” Her voice broke and he placed his hands on each side of her head.
“Tell me the truth. Don’t you want me to make love to you?”
She attempted to turn her face away, but he held it fast in his hands, and she knew she couldn’t leave him. If old Maggie had predicted the truth, he’d learn sooner or later how very inadequately endowed she really was.
“I have very little to offer you, Paul,” she whispered.
His breath softly fanned her face, and if she could have seen him, she’d have known he was smiling.
“I don’t want you for just your body, Allison. I want you for yourself,” he assured her.
“Really?” The idea that a man could be attracted to her, slight as she was, stunned her. “I’m sure you’ve been with other women, Paul, and I don’t hold that against you, but I don’t wish to be compared to someone else. I’m sorry I’m not beautiful and—buxomy like other women.”
“Other women are unimportant. You’re the woman I want, Allison.” His voice was a hoarse whisper and echoed what she wished to hear.
“But why do you want me?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.
He sat up, facing away from her, and his cool tone when he spoke seemed to forbid further questions. “Just accept things as they are.”
Allison lay quietly beside him, watching the star-dappled sky and wished she could still the doubts in her heart, but Cecelia’s warning came back to her.
Almost as if he heard her silent musings, he said, “My father owns a large plantation in Louisiana, and I have money in my own right. I’m not after your precious funds, Allison.”
He sounded so hurt that it tugged at her heart, and she managed to sit up and move closer to him. “Tell me about yourself, Paul. I know nothing about you.” Timidly she touched his hand and watched the sharply defined planes of his face soften.
“Father is a planter, and my mother … well, how do I describe to you the most beautiful, kindest woman in the world? I love her very much, as I do Father. I have a younger brother named Daniel. He is the artistic one in the family and hopes one day to become a famous artist.”
“I gather he is totally different from you.”
Paul nodded. “Yes—he is the perfect one and never shows his anger or says an unkind word about anyone.”
“Are you jealous of him?”
“As a matter of fact I’m very protective of him, because he nearly died as a child from a fever. I haven’t seen him in a few years, not since I’ve been traveling and away at university in Dublin.”
Allison assessed all he told her, yet her expression was still questioning and pensive. “You’ve told me about your family but very little about yourself.”
His eyes narrowed and his back become ramrod straight. “I am Paul Flanders, the son of a Louisiana planter and the man who wants to marry you. What more do you need to know?”
“I want to know if you love me and why you want to marry me.” She didn’t mean to be obstinate, she just wanted to love him, but his answers were so vague as to make her unsure.
His dark eyes settled on her face and flashed their mercurial anger. “I see you still don’t trust me. There can be nothing between us without trust, Allison, so I shall escort you home and leave for Dublin in the morning.”
“No!” He couldn’t leave her, not when she loved him! She rose to her feet when he did, grasping at the material of his shirt. “I do love you, Paul. I’m sorry, so sorry!” Tears spilled from her eyes and streaked her cheeks. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him with such desperate passion she surprised herself.
He looked at her, and
a small spasm of uneasiness flickered across his face. “Then you will marry me?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Wait for me here tomorrow night. Within a day, you shall be my bride.” He bent down and kissed her, a flicker of desire rising between them.
Almost without realizing it, she allowed him to lay her again on the cape, and this time she relished the feel of his hands, strong and warm, as they roamed over her body to seek the secret places. Slowly he removed her clothes, then his own until both of them lay naked and glowing in the moonlight. His hands slid possessively across her body, his mouth seeking the tips of her breasts and sucking until the pink nipples grew marble hard.
She wrapped her hands in his hair and moaned softly. Never had she felt such ecstasy. She writhed beneath him, eager to touch the warmth of his skin and desirous of something she was only beginning to crave. Her slim body fit perfectly against his. His fingers found the soft, pulsing peak of her womanhood and stroked until her tormented groan became an invitation to end her suffering and bring her to fulfillment “I won’t hurt you, Allison, I promise,” he whispered.
He invaded her mouth with his tongue, and she met his with hers. Any qualms were dispelled as she instinctively parted her legs. Paul lifted himself above her, entering her tight softness with a swift plunge. She cried out as a sharp pain momentarily destroyed her pleasure.
He smothered her cry with his mouth and thankfully she grew still. “It hurts the first time, sweet, but soon the pain leaves, and I promise you shall enjoy it.”
She doubted she’d ever enjoy this. Something that she had thought would be so wonderful now hurt unbearably. The throbbing inside her felt as if it would never cease; his body grew heavy atop her, and her small breasts quivered with her suppressed emotions. Allison only wanted him to leave her alone. Her large eyes wandered across his face, and though she was inexperienced, she realized he was holding himself in check.
“You hurt me,” she whispered through a haze of pain. “Please let me go.”
Paul pushed back a lock of hair from her forehead and entangled a long finger in the white-golden strand of her hair. “I can’t. I’m buried deep within you, darling. This is only the beginning. The joy you shall feel in a little while will more than compensate for the pain.”
Allison shook her head. “No, no,” she murmured, but he captured her lips and stilled her voice.
His mouth moved away from hers and trailed low to a nipple, laving it with his tongue. She stiffened. “Relax, my darling,” he said lowly, as if she was a skittish filly. “Move with me instead of fighting me.”
Paul’s hands caressed her waist, her hips, her thighs, gentling her and readying her for the moment when he began to undulate and move his shaft deeper inside her. She gasped, but again his mouth was upon her lips, stifling the sound. Slowly by degrees, the pain eased and his gentle thrusting sent waves of molten lava to the very center of her being.
She moaned and her slender arms drew him closer as she opened her legs wider, arching her hips against him.
“Allison!” she heard him exclaim. He held her so tightly she could barely breathe. She knew she excited him, and the knowledge that she could give him pleasure gave her a delicious sense of power. She shivered at the realization that she could bring such a look of’ dark passion to his eyes.
The melting sensation within her became like sweet fire, burning through her with each steady thrust. She knew the end was near, knew it by the way her body felt like tiny points of sunlight streaming from the heavens onto panes of cold glass. She was ready to explode, meeting each thrust with one of her own, not knowing how much longer of’ this delicious torture she could endure.
Paul’s hands moved down her back to the fullness of her buttocks and pulled her against him until she felt she was truly a part of him, that she was no longer a separate individual. She mouthed his name, but only a guttural sound escaped as suddenly with one powerful thrust, the world spun and threw her adrift in the heavens.
“Sweet, sweet,” Paul rasped in her ear and shuddered.
Their bodies grew still, melting together, and contentment flowed between them.
Slowly Allison’s breath grew steady. She lay, holding him close to her, and when he didn’t speak, she gathered her courage and said, “Did I displease you?”
He felt her quiver in his arms, and he glanced down at her, tenderness in his eyes.
“No, my dear, you were wonderful. In fact, you were more than wonderful.”
Delight shone on her face. “I only want to please you. Do you love me?” It meant so much to her to hear the words that she couldn’t help but ask again.
“I’m going to marry you. Now stop these questions and let’s get you home before you’re missed.” He kissed her again and stood up to dress, but as she gathered her clothes about her, she wasn’t satisfied. Doubts returned to plague her.
~
“Sir Howard?” Beth called softly and looked around the darkened stables, empty except for the horses who whinnied and snorted at her sudden appearance. She stood inside the doorway, shawl tucked about her, long hair streaming in curls down her back. It seemed ages before a door creaked open and Howard beckoned to her from a candlelit room. She followed and curtsied. “My lord.”
Unceremoniously he pulled her into the confines of the room where she found a small cot and a table littered with glasses, a bottle of brandy and remnants of pipe tobacco. “Don’t mind the mess, Beth. This is the groom’s room, but I’ve sent him on an errand to Ballinasloe. He won’t return until morning, so we have time to talk. All night, in fact.”
She grew shy, now that she was alone with him, uncertain. What was she doing here with one of the gentry? She was out of her mind to meet him, even if just to talk, but she loved him. When she gazed up at him, her feelings were evident in her eyes.
“I’m here just as you asked, sir. I hope I’m not late.”
He smiled, showing even, white teeth. He took her hand in both of his. “Your presence means a great deal to me. I get lonely with no one to confide in and I need an understanding ear at times. My father doesn’t think much of me, but I told you that already.”
“I’m sorry for you, sir, but aye, I understand how loneliness feels.”
“A pretty girl like yourself? I’ll wager half the blokes in the county are after you.”
She thought of Patrick suddenly and dismissed the image. She shook her head. “Nay, my lord. I have no one courting me.”
He peered into her face, seeming to assess the situation, then smiled, satisfied. “Would you care for some brandy? I know you don’t drink, but I have nothing else to offer you.”
Beth’s mouth felt parched from the long walk, and she was thirsty. “Aye, thank you, sir.” She drank from the generous portion he poured for her, the warmth of the liquid slightly choking her, but after a few sips she grew accustomed to it and giggled. “‘Tisn’t as bad as I thought.”
“Nothing ever is, my dear.”
He reached out and lightly stroked her hair. “You really are very lovely, Beth. Don’t shy away, I won’t hurt you.”
He wasn’t the one who frightened her. She was more afraid of the strange sensation rising in the pit of her stomach, and when he motioned for her to sit next to him on the cot, she did. The candlelight deepened the shadows on his face and she realized once again how handsome he was. She felt like a princess in a fairy story sitting next to the prince, the man of her dreams. The liquid she had imbibed warmed her until the room grew uncomfortably stuffy. “‘Tis rather warm in here,” she said.
“Please allow me to remove your shawl.” He took it from her, his hands lightly caressing her shoulders for an instant before he laid it on the cot beside her. “It’s good to have your company, Beth.”
“I’m pleased to be here, sir.”
“Do you like the brandy?”
“Aye, but I must stop drinking, for my head is swimming a wee bit.”
He laughed but filled her
glass again. “Take some more. I won’t tell.”
“I’m a good Catholic girl, sir, and it’s sinful to drink.”
“I think you’re only worried because you’re enjoying it,” he teased.
She lowered her eyes. “Aye, ‘tis true.”
“How do you feel about making love, Beth?”
She looked up, astonished at the bluntness of his question. “The couple should be married first,” she said firmly.
“But what if they love one another so much they can’t wait for the exchange of vows?”
“Don’t be asking me because I can’t say, sir.”
He lifted her chin and gently kissed her. “Haven’t you ever been kissed before?” he asked.
“Kissing’s wrong unless it leads to the marriage bed,” she calmly replied, though her head was spinning with excitement.
“Ah, I see a Papist priest has filled your head with nonsense,” Howard noted in amusement. He appraised her in silence for a few moments then placed his glass on the table beside the cot. “Finish your brandy, Beth,” he commanded.
She drank it down, not because she wanted to drink, but because all her life she had followed orders and had never dared disobey someone in authority.
Howard held her hand and talked to her, but after a while she couldn’t concentrate on his words. At one point he again asked if she was warm and when she nodded, he began to unbutton the top button on her blouse. “Oh, no, sir,” Beth gasped.
“Now, now, Beth. It’s quite warm and I can tell you’re uncomfortable.”
The room spun dizzily for a second and she was barely aware when he had undone all her buttons, not realizing her breasts had spilled forth from the too small chemise she wore. Howard reached out and kneaded them, and though she longed to protest, she gave an involuntary moan at the sensations his touch provoked.
“Lie down beside me.” He pulled her down upon the cot and started to remove the rest of her clothes.
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