Bewitching

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Bewitching Page 25

by Amelia Grey


  But she knew why. She'd told him no reason would be good enough. No reason. Had she been too hard on Austin?

  "Of course what could Jerome Bonaparte ever need from Austin?" Beatrice continued. "Napoleon controls most of Europe, and he's made Jerome a king. What else could Jerome want?"

  His son. Jerome didn't have his son; and Austin, with his ships, his indebtedness was the perfect choice to handle that job for him. She was the one who'd been wrong. Circumstances were such that it had been the right thing for Austin to do, just the wrong thing for Betsy Patterson.

  "Of course, no one in Maryland could be happy about the shabby way Jerome treated Miss Patterson or what Napoleon did to her. But I—I will always be grateful to Jerome Bonaparte for saving me and my son that day."

  "And you should be." Chelly's voice was husky with emotion. "I only wish I'd known about this sooner. Austin never told me."

  "And he probably never would. A man's pride is different from ours. They don't like to be considered weak or in need of help. They like to think they can take care of us with no one's intervention. I'm sure to this day Austin wishes he could have handled all three of those robbers without Jerome Bonaparte's help."

  "Yes, I believe that to be true, too." Chelly bowed her head and whispered, "I need to talk to Austin."

  Chapter 22

  "Miss Worthington, what are you doing here?" Thollie asked when she opened the door and saw Chelly standing on the stoop. "How are you feeling? I thought you were sick?"

  "I have been. I'm much better now."

  "Well, you're still a might pale. Mr. Radcliffe didn't tell me he was expecting you." Thollie paused and looked down at Chelly with her big brown eyes shining. "Is he expecting you?" the housekeeper asked, gripping her hips with her hands, making her skirt hem hike on both sides.

  Chelly smiled. "He's not expecting me. But, may I come in and wait for him?"

  "Of course." She stepped aside and allowed Chelly entrance. "Mr. Radcliffe is working late hours these days. I usually have dinner ready for him about eight. He eats and goes right to bed. Then he's up by daylight and on his way back to his office."

  After stepping into the parlor, Chelly took off her hat and her cape and handed them to Thollie. "Is Jubal here? I'd like to speak to him if he is."

  "Um-hum." She nodded. "He's here. Right now he's in the kitchen having his supper with me before he goes to pick up Mr. Radcliffe at the office."

  Chelly swallowed hard. This wasn't going to be easy. "May I see him?"

  "Won't bother me none. Come on in here. I'll get you a cup of tea."

  Chelly took a deep breath to settle her nerves as she followed Thollie into the small kitchen, Jubal stood up and backed away from her as she entered. It hurt to know that he didn't want to be near her, but she couldn't blame him for feeling that way.

  "Jubal, how are you?" she asked, wanting to smile at him, but not sure she should or that he'd welcome it.

  "Fine," he answered.

  That wasn't much to build a conversation on. "I—the only thing I know to do is say I'm sorry for hitting you that night. I hope it didn't hurt you too badly and that you're fully recovered."

  "I'm fine," he repeated, not taking his gaze off her face.

  "I had no other choice. I knew you would have stopped me and I couldn't allow that. I hope you'll accept my apology and maybe one day forgive me."

  "I know why you did it," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "But that don't make it right."

  "No, it doesn't. Two wrongs don't make anything right."

  He nodded and looked down at his dinner plate.

  She was keeping him. She clasped her hands together in front of her and held them tight. "I'm in no position to ask anything of you, I realize, but when you go to pick up Austin tonight would you allow me to ride with you and not tell Austin I'm in the carriage until he gets there?"

  She was so unsure of everything concerning her relationship with Austin. She'd made it clear they had no future because she couldn't forgive him or trust him. How could she make Austin understand that while she still didn't agree with what he'd done, that now she understood.

  Jubal hesitated.

  Her heartbeat increased. Would he deny her?

  "You can go. I won't tell him you're there—unless he asks me."

  That was fair enough.

  "Thank you." She turned to Thollie. "Please finish your meal. If you don't mind, I'll wait in the parlor until Jubal is ready to pick up Austin."

  * * *

  "Damn, what a hell of a night," Austin said to Jubal as they walked out of his office and into the drizzling summer rain.

  "Yes, sir."

  Austin pulled his hat low and his coat collar up to keep the rain from running down the back of his neck as he and Jubal hurried over to the carriage parked just past the front of the building. It might be the middle of June, but a nighttime rainfall could chill a person to the bone.

  Jubal reached the covered carriage first and jumped up on the driver's seat while Austin jerked the coach door open and stepped a foot up on the passenger step. He froze. Light from the street lamp spilled into the carriage and lit Chelly's face. For a moment he thought he was seeing an apparition.

  What was she doing out of bed, out of his mother's house, out on a rainy night like this when she'd recently been so sick?

  "You're getting wet," she said. "Come inside."

  "I can't believe you're out of bed, let alone out on a night like this," he said angrily.

  Austin pulled himself inside and shut the door with a bang behind him. He took the seat opposite Chelly, and then gave the ceiling two hard raps with his hand to let Jubal know it was all right to take off. He removed his wet hat and threw it on the seat beside him. With his fingertips he wiped dripping water from his face and neck.

  Light came through the windows into the cab from the lanterns attached to the side panels of the carriage. Austin glanced at Chelly again. She held out a handkerchief for him. A stirring started in his manhood. He'd missed her!

  She'd always been able to move him with just a look. For a moment he had to simply look at her. Her eyes glistened in the dim light. He wanted hold her so close to his chest nothing could pry them apart. But no, she'd made her feelings for him clear. He knew how she felt about him. He even understood. He'd done what was required of him in getting her out of jail and taking care of her until she recuperated. Nothing else was needed or expected except her payment.

  "Do you care nothing for your health?" he asked, taking the handkerchief from her.

  "Thanks to you and your mother's good care, I'm well."

  "You won't be for long. Not two weeks ago you were delirious with fever and coughing every other breath. Now you're out on a night like this. I can't believe Mama agreed to let you do this."

  He wiped his face and neck with her handkerchief. Even though he used the small hankie quickly he smelled her sweet scent on it and it made him want to bury his nose in the softness at the base of her throat and breathe in deeply.

  "Don't blame your mother. She didn't want me to leave. I convinced her I had to see you and I couldn't wait. She agreed her driver could bring me into town tonight."

  He wanted to touch her, to hold her, to love her. But his pride said no. She had rejected him and denied his love.

  "There was no need for you to come here, Chelly. I was just waiting for you to get better before I went back and settled payment with you for your services. Naturally I'll see you'll well provided for."

  Her eyes rounded. "Payment? What payment?"

  "What payment, indeed! I haven't forgotten the money I promised you for taking care of Bo. Surely you remember?"

  Affronted she exclaimed, "That has nothing to do with why I'm here!"

  "What's the matter? Have you decided that to take the payment would soil your hands for life and you don't want dirty money?"

  "How dare you suggest such a thing. Money has nothing to do with why I'm here. Besides, yo
u don't owe me any payment. It's I who owe you. I stole money from you when we were aboard Aloof."

  "Pennies."

  This wasn't turning out the way she'd hoped. She wanted to ask his forgiveness for being so rigid, for not understanding, for not trusting that he had good reason for what he did. She wanted to love him, not argue with him.

  "Your mother told me you were expected back to the country in a few days, but I didn't want to wait that long to talk to you." She paused then asked what was uppermost on her mind. "Why didn't you tell me about Jerome?"

  "Jerome? What was there to tell other than that I was taking his son to him? You knew that."

  "Why didn't you tell me he saved your mother's life and that you were indebted to him?"

  "Bloody hell!" he whispered earnestly as he wadded the handkerchief she'd given him into a small ball.

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "It was none of your damn business." He pointed a finger at her. "Nothing to do with you."

  Her chest tightened, and she tried to swallow past a dry throat. She hadn't expected such a forceful argument from him. "How can you say that when you know that what has been keeping me from giving my love completely to you is the feeling that you were not the kind of man I should love? I've been driving myself crazy with wanting you, but thinking of you as a heartless man."

  "In the beginning I didn't think I had to justify my actions or my reasons to you. Then when I wanted to tell you, you told me no reason would be good enough and I believed you."

  "That's because I thought you were doing it for some gain to yourself or your business." Chelly leaned forward. "Of course there's a difference."

  "Why? Why should there be? Does it change the outcome of what I did?"

  She struggled with her answer before saying, "No."

  "Is the deed any less offensive to you because you now believe I had a good enough reason to do it?"

  Chelly searched his eyes in the dim light. She couldn't lie. He'd see it in her eyes. But the truth might lose him to her forever.

  "Is it?" he asked again.

  "No," she whispered softly. "The outcome is the same, but I understand now that sometimes we don't have choices if we're to face ourselves each morning," she answered, remembering how much it had hurt her to hit Jubal and to leave Austin on the sidewalk when she knew he'd been injured. What she'd done hadn't been right for them, but it had been right for Betsy and Bo.

  Austin sighed. "This conversation isn't even necessary, Chelly. I understand why you don't trust me or respect me and I accept that. There's no need to go over this. I can't change what happened."

  She closed her eyes for a few seconds, unable to bear the pain she saw in his eyes. How could she have hurt him so much? She loved him. "I know it can't be changed, but now that I understand why you did it, I can accept it."

  "You didn't trust me enough to have faith that I was doing the right thing for me so I could live with myself."

  "No, I didn't. I have a mind, too. I have feelings and values that tell me what is right and what's wrong. I couldn't love you unconditionally."

  Austin remained quiet, looking at her. The carriage clipped along at a leisurely pace, jostling them gently. She didn't know how to make him see that she loved him and needed him other than to simply come out and tell him so.

  She tried to calm her racing heartbeat. "I left your mother's house to come tell you that I should have known you had reasons other than personal gain or you wouldn't have helped Jerome. I realize that now. I didn't understand how I could love you yet not be able to come to terms with what you had done. I can't explain it, except to say I believe my sister's loss clouded my reasoning. I know what losing her child did to Loraine. I know the anguish she went through that eventually drove her to kill herself. I've always wished I could have helped my sister overcome the loss of her son. Austin, I didn't know how to handle your being party to something I considered so despicable."

  "I know." His voice was soft. "And because of it, you have no respect for me."

  Her own words coming back to her hurt. She moved over to the seat beside him. "I said it, but I don't think it was true even then. I would not have given myself to you and stayed in your bed if I didn't respect you, if I didn't love you."

  He looked into her eyes. "You're rationalizing."

  "No. I wasn't ready to admit that I saw past what you were doing and found a man I loved, respected, and wanted to spend the rest of my life with."

  "I don't believe you," he whispered

  Her heart filled with anguish. Was there no way to make him understand? "I've done a lot of things that were wrong, too, you know. I stole your gun and your money. I left you to the mercy of soldiers in France. I hit Jubal on the head. I left you—"

  Suddenly Austin grabbed her upper arms and pulled her up close to his chest. His expression was intense. "What are you saying, Chelly?"

  "That I love you. I want to be with you forever. When this carriage stops, you can leave me in the street; but it won't make me sorry I came here tonight to tell you these things."

  "Don't tempt me with your sweet lips and words I've longed to hear, Chelly."

  "Why not? All I've said is true. Jerome Bonaparte saved your mother's life and you felt obligated to him. Austin, I respect the honor that compelled you to keep the vow you made. That honorable man is the one I love."

  "Don't make me more noble than I am, Chelly. I know my actions hurt people."

  She looked into his beautiful eyes. Was he softening? Was he willing to forgive her rejection? "Sometimes we all have to do things that hurt other people."

  A slight smile appeared on his face. He cupped the side of her face with his hand. It was warm. She turned into it and kissed his palm. The taste of him was tangy. With his free hand Austin picked up hers and kissed her palm.

  She smiled at him. "I've loved you for a long time. Not without reservations at first, but they're all gone now. I'm bringing nothing with me tonight but unconditional love."

  "I accept it and give you my love and my life."

  Austin slid his hand to the back of Chelly's neck and pulled her too him and kissed her. Chelly savored the kiss. It was soft, sweet, romantic. She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. She closed her eyes and surrendered to his touch, to her dreams of being his forever.

  "I love you. I thought I'd lost you," Austin whispered. "And I didn't know any way to get you back. I couldn't change what I'd done."

  She trembled with need for him. "And I thought you'd never forgive me for doubting you."

  "The only thing you did to me was deny me your love, and, if I have that, I have all I want or need for the rest of my life."

  "You have my love, Austin. Forever."

  "And you have mine. Say you'll marry me, Chelly."

  "Yes, yes, my love. Nothing would make me happier."

  "Hold me tighter," he pleaded as his lips sought hers for a long passionate kiss.

  "The carriage has stopped," she murmured a few moments later.

  "I don't care," he answered, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her neck. "I don't want to let you go."

  "I'm sure Jubal wants to get out of the rain."

  He looked down into her eyes and said, "Your kisses make me so crazy with need that I forget about everything and everyone else."

  Chelly hesitated before saying, "Austin, we've come full circle to the place where we were the first time we met. I have no place to stay the night."

  Happiness lit in Austin's eyes and he laughed. "Then allow me to offer my house and my bed to you for tonight and always."

  "I accept," Chelly said and kissed him again.

  The End

  Author's Notes

  The love story between the beautiful Betsy Patterson and the immature Jerome Bonaparte is tragic but fascinating. While researching this book, I developed great admiration for Betsy's courage, wit, and determination. I felt pity for Jerome, who allowed Napoleon to rob him of such a strong-minded, intelli
gent, and appealing woman as Betsy Patterson.

  All the information in this book about Betsy and Jerome is true except for the kidnapping. History tells no account of Jerome trying to kidnap his son. Jerome wrote Betsy several letters, first asking her to send his son to him, and then later asking that she bring him. At one time, he offered to make her a queen and give her 200,000 francs a year if she would bring his son to Europe. During this time, Betsy refused all his overtures, but in later years Bo was allowed to visit his father in Europe.

  In France, Napoleon had Jerome and Betsy's marriage annulled in 1806, but Betsy waited until 1812 to apply for a legal divorce in America. It was rumored that Betsy and Jerome once met at the opera in France, but neither of them spoke.

  History books tell us that Jerome was the only man Betsy ever loved and her only lover. After Napoleon's fall, Jerome continued to live in splendor because of the good marriage Napoleon had made for him. Jerome was known throughout Europe for his lavish spending, countless lovers, and reckless behavior. He died at the age of seventy-five in 1860, leaving no mention of his American son Bo in his will.

  Crushed once again by Jerome's hand, Betsy spent the rest of her life trying to gain recognition in France for Bo as a legal heir to the throne of France. She never succeeded. She died in 1879 at the age of ninety-four, outliving Bo by nine years.

  Betsy asked to have carved on her tombstone the words, After life's fitful fever, she sleeps well. Having read many accounts of her life, this author believes she lied. She died as she lived, trying to overcome, rise above, and rectify the humiliating misdeed Jerome allowed when Napoleon had their marriage annulled.

  A woman who fought so hard against overwhelming odds and never achieved her goal couldn't possibly sleep well.

  Meet Amelia Grey

  Award-winning author Amelia grew up in a small town in the Florida Panhandle. She has been happily married to her high school sweetheart for more than thirty-five years.

  Though she is currently writing only as Amelia Grey, she has 24 books published in romantic fiction under three different names and one nonfiction book on romance under Amelia Grey.

 

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