by Marnie Cate
“You were too harsh with that woman. She was only trying to help you,” Jameson said. The sight of him standing in the veranda doorway surprised me. The sunshine on him seemed right. A life in the warm weather was the life he should have, not the frigid Winter. I wanted to run to him and fall into his arms. Will I always feel like a lovesick fool when I am with him?
“What are you doing here?” I said coldly. I would not let him know how I felt about him anymore. I was married. I loved Roger, and I would be faithful to him.
“I felt you were in her realm. He was waiting for you. I tried to warn you,” he answered, stepping closer to me. “Danu took your magic from you, didn't she?”
I flinched at his reminder. Magic I never really had was taken from me. Why does it still hurt to have it gone? “I heard you, but why would you care what happens to me? Shouldn't you go? Don't you have to run back to tell Snowystra my secrets?”
“She did take it.” He stood inches away from me now as he softly touched my cheek. “I could feel it as if it was my own body being torn apart,” he said, ignoring my coldness.
“I didn't want her stupid magic. It's a curse. Danu won't protect me. Why would I want her gift?” I bellowed, moving away from him.
Before I knew it, Jameson had slipped his arm around my waist and began kissing me. The lingering touch of his lips made my legs go weak. He held me tighter to steady me.
“I've missed watching you,” he murmured in my ear. “I know you have missed me, too.”
“You're wrong,” I struggled to say.
“Then, tell me to go. Tell me you are done with me,” he demanded, loosening his hold on me.
I couldn't tell him to leave me. All I wanted was for him to hold me tighter, and never let me go. I wanted to run away with him, and to be free of the darkness that was always looming over me.
“I can't,” I said, resting my hand on his chest.
If I pushed him away, he would go. It was my choice. Danu had warned me against him, but she wasn't willing to save me. How would I know if I could even trust her? Hadn't she just ripped her gift from me? She was right though. My love for Jameson was dangerous. I would lose Roger if he ever found out, and we already walked a fine line of trust.
Just tell him to go, and he will leave. You love Roger. You are happier with your new life then you have been in many years.
But, I won't be, the voice in my head, who always made me doubt myself, chided.
Soon I will be carrying a child inside me. I'll give birth and claim it died. It will break Roger, I argued. Don't I deserve to have someone to comfort me in my loss?
My internal debate seemed endless. Before I completely understood what I was doing, I made my decision. My fingers stroked the nape of his neck, and I pressed my lips to his. The soft kiss quickly became hungry and consuming.
When Jameson picked me up and he carried me to the bed, I did not stop him. Instead, I held him tighter, wanting him to make love to me like our first time. I wanted him, even though I knew this betrayal would cost me so much.
It was as if there were two parts of my heart. One side wanted the stability and comfort of Roger's sweet love, and the other wanted the strong passion and strength of Jameson. It was confusing to have so much love flowing from and to me. My childhood had not prepared me for such intense emotions. I was a Drygen, so I was never meant to feel this way.
Pushing the thoughts of Roger away, I focused only on Jameson and the love I felt for him. I felt complete in his arms. It was as if the one thing missing in my life since the wedding had been returned to me. I knew I was betraying Roger, but it didn't matter. I tried to block out all thoughts again, and focused on the electric sensations of Jameson's touch. In the middle of the pleasure, a dark thought crossed my mind. I realized I would let nothing stop us from being together. No matter who I had to hurt in the process.
Chapter 11
Lying in Jameson's arms, I wanted to feel ashamed for our impulsive actions, but I didn't. Maybe Snowystra was correct in questioning the mortal rules about pleasure of the flesh? Trying to justify my behavior, I traced the faint scars on his chest. He had hundreds of thin lines covering his body.
“Why do you have so many scars?” I asked.
“A strong soldier requires discipline,” he said, kissing my hand.
“She did this to you?” I sat up and rested my elbow on his chest. I hadn't needed to ask the question. I knew what she was capable of. There was nothing good about Snowystra, and I hated her.
“Beautiful hair,” Jameson said. He stroked the strands brushing against his skin. “Will you always wear it long like this for me?”
“I will, but it won't stop me from changing. Will you still love me when my hair is gray and my body is withered from the passing of time?” I wondered as I searched his eyes for the answer. “You will still be handsome and full of life while I age. Even the most beautiful of women can't keep their looks forever.”
“She has promised me that, someday, I'll be given a great power in her domain. I will be the Shah, the King of Snowstrum. When this is done, I will convince her you should be my queen,” he said, forcefully.
“Why not tell her now? Tell her I will carry your child instead of Roger's. Surely, she would understand the potential of our child. They would hold more power than one with a mortal man,” I said.
“It is not like that with Snowystra,” he replied, closing his eyes. “If she knows, I want you … that I love you, she will —”
“She will what?”
“There are so many cruel things she could do to hurt us. It is safer for her to come up with the idea herself. I will plant the seeds and watch her grow it. If Roger was not able to give you a child, she may be more open to my words.” Jameson pulled me back into his arms. “We will find a way to make sure you never have his child.”
I rested my head on his shoulder, contemplating his words.
* * *
Jameson and I spent the rest of the day lying in each other's arms. Every time he mentioned leaving, I made an excuse to keep him in my bed longer. As the sun set, I realized I had been reckless. Roger could show up at any moment and what would he do if he found me in bed with Jameson? Panicked, I jumped out of the bed and threw on my robe. I opened the window hoping the ocean breeze would remove any trace of my deceit.
“What are you doing?” Jameson asked. He stood bare naked in front of the open window.
“No, you need to go,” I hissed as I tossed him his clothes and dragged the blinds closed. “What if someone sees you here?”
“No one is around. No one can see me. The staff is in the kitchen preparing their evening meal. Roger is still dealing with the boulders blocking his path. We have time.”
“At least put your clothes back on,” I said, feeling ashamed.
“Ok, I'll put my clothes on, and then you will sit with me.” He pulled the bell call for the maids to come. “Order yourself a meal and we will share it,” he said firmly.
“No, you must go,” I insisted.
“Your maid is close. What will she think of me standing here? Wouldn't she be surprised? You know, I heard them talking about their Mr. Kingston and how they missed him warming their beds. Maybe, they would like a replacement? I could fill that void to save your marriage,” he said coldly.
A knock on the door made me jump. “Mrs. Kingston,” Joanna called.
“It is the cute maid,” Jameson said, moving towards the door.
“Stop! I'll do what you want. Please, just go,” I begged.
Jameson waited until the door opened before he disappeared.
Joanna entered carrying a tray of food. “I'm sorry to just come in, Mrs. Kingston. I wanted to make sure you were well. Mrs. Radcliff told me about your fall. Lucky for you, Mrs. Radcliff always knows what to do in an emergency.”
The maid babbled as she laid the meal out. She was very pretty. I could see why Roger would be attracted to her.
“I'm sorry to disturb your rest,” she
said, shifting uneasily. “Mrs. Radcliff told me to bring up your dinner and see if you'd like anything else.”
I debated whether to ask about her relationship with my husband, but thought better of it.
“Are you ok, Mrs. Kingston?” she asked nervously.
Pushing away my thoughts, I smiled. “Tell her thank you and that I apologize for my overreaction earlier. I think I'll retire for the evening after I eat a bit. I am feeling a bit under the weather still.”
“Yes, Mrs. Kingston. I'll return later for your tray,” she promised.
“It can be collected tomorrow. I don't want my rest disturbed again,” I said, curtly.
Nodding, she quickly left. I sat down at the table and stared out at the ocean. The image of Snowystra standing over me on the beach flashed in my mind. I would never be free from her. I would be bound to the Goddess as long as I was alive.
“May I join you?” Jameson inquired softly.
I motioned for him to sit. “How do you know she isn't watching us?” I asked.
“She returned to Snowstrum. She will be gone from this realm for weeks because she needs to recharge her power. The sunshine takes a toll on her,” he explained with a look of disgust.
“She did look horrible. Can't you stop her if she is weakened?” I asked.
“She is still stronger than I am. No one who tried to leave or defeat her has ever succeeded.”
Jameson examined the tray of food on the table. Finally, he picked up the pitcher of iced tea and poured a glass. His eyes never left mine, as he took a long drink. He held the cup out to me, and said, “We will have to share.”
When I didn't take it, he set it down and knelt before me. “I lied when I said the maids had been with him. I was being spiteful. I don't want to share you with him, Blanche.”
Jameson rested his head on my lap and I began to stroke his raven locks. “It doesn't matter what I want. My life has been decided for me,” I whispered.
He sat up. “What do you want?”
“It doesn't matter,” I said. I stood up and tried to walk away from him. I could not say my wishes aloud.
He clasps my wrist gently and tugged me to him. He wrapped his arms around me. “Tell me the truth, even if it will break me.”
“You,” I croaked in an almost inaudible voice. “I want you, and only you.”
“You have me always,” he vowed, lifting my chin. “Forever, Blanche – In this world, and beyond.”
Consumed with an unquenchable desire, this time I didn't feel torn. I knew Jameson would always be the one. Our plan to dine and say goodbye never happened. Instead, we made love, unaware of the world around us.
Lying in his arms, he entwined his fingers with mine. “I will marry you one day. We will be free.”
My eyes closed as I prayed desperately for his words to be true.
* * *
“Wake up, darling,” the quiet baritone beckoned.
The bright sunlight was shining in. It warmed my skin, and I smiled sleepily. “Come back to bed.”
“I've not been to bed yet,” he said. His voice had an edge to it, which told me it was not Jameson waking me.
“I'm so glad you are back,” I lied, kissing him on the cheek.
My heart fell. If Roger was home, it meant Jameson was gone. I sat up worried my deceit was apparent. Relieved I was in a nightgown, I looked around the room for any evidence of my betrayal. Everything was in perfect order.
“Looking to see if your lover left anything behind?
He misunderstood the look of surprise on my face as one of being hurt. He suddenly began apologizing.
“Oh, Blanche, I am sorry for such a tasteless joke. I am still edgy from the stupidity of the situation that took me away from you. Mrs. Radcliff told me you were injured, and said she healed you. Let's see.” Roger pulled my arm to his mouth and trailed kisses up to my shoulder. Nibbling on my neck, he said, “The slight scar will heal with more ointment, and you will be as good as new.”
His touch felt wrong. I wanted to scream and push him away. Instead, I closed my eyes, pretending I was in Jameson's arms. Soon, my lover would find a way for us to be together. Being with Roger was a business arrangement and nothing more. I would play the good wife, but I wouldn't mistake my feelings for him ever again. I would let him make love to me, but I would never open my heart to him. I couldn't.
When it was over, I rolled on my side and he curled himself around me. “What is wrong, dear? Are you ill?”
“I was just thinking how lovely it will be to have a child,” I lied.
“Yes, our son. We could name him Cedric after my father,” he said, nuzzling my neck.
Closing my eyes, I forced myself to accept that, today, I was Roger's wife. Even if I didn't love him, I could try to be happy, and I would make him believe it, even if I couldn't. And I did.
* * *
Roger insisted we stay another month in Brighid's Landing. He wanted to be close enough to work on the rail line's progress before we would return to Starten. Still, he refused to leave me for more than a day or so.
I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the time I had with Roger. He asked my thoughts about business decisions as if my opinion counted. He was doting, and I did have a strong physical response to him. It was confusing to have intense feelings for Roger when every day I wished for him to be called away. His absence meant I would be with Jameson.
During the times when I couldn't be with Jameson, he would leave small signs to tell me he was near. Flower petals would sweep in an open door and form a heart before blowing away. Smiley faces would appear in my tea cup as I poured a splash of milk. One time, he drew a heart on the steamed bathroom mirror. Roger saw it before I could clear it and told me I was the sweetest wife ever.
On a morning, I had turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. My day would be perfect. Jameson had promised to take me to Snowstrum and Roger would be leaving to deal with another issue on the rail line. However, my hopes were shattered when my husband stormed into the bathroom.
“Get dressed,” he ordered. “We are leaving today.” He pulled our suitcases from the closet and threw them on our bed.
“What is the rush, Roger?” I asked, following him. Frustration filled me. I had been longing to feel my Winter magic.
Roger ignored my questions and began stuffing clothes into his suitcase frantically. “Your mother is the problem. She has made plans to sell the cannery.”
“Stop,” I demanded, taking a shirt out of his hands. “How do you know this? She would never sell it.”
Roger reached into his pocket and threw a crumpled note onto the bed. My mother's note made no sense. She babbled on about how the Drygen curse struck again. From what I could make of it, there had been an accident in the cannery, and she thought this was a sign telling her to sell everything and leave Starten.
“We can go now but I will not go with you unless you compose yourself. Please stop and think. My mother probably sent this right after the accident while she was distraught. By the time we arrive home, I'm sure she will have come to her senses.” I inhaled deeply as I paused a moment to think. “We will return under the guise of missing our home in Starten, and your eagerness to work. There will be no mention of the letter being received.”
Roger madly rubbed his eyes and then ran his hands through hair. I watched his panic fade. He flopped down on the bed, bending over with his face in his hands. My breath caught as a need to comfort and protect him rushed through me.
I was his wife. It was natural to want to care for him, but I wasn't going to let myself love him. I would not open that door again. Still, I rested my hand on his back and slowly rubbed soothing circles.
Suddenly, he flung his arms around my waist and began to cry. Beneath me, I watched my husband, a grown man, sobbing as if he was a small boy. I stroked his hair, murmuring words of comfort.
For twenty-seven days, I denied my feelings for my husband. I had convinced myself that any tru
e emotions for Roger would cheapen my feelings for Jameson. However, my desire not to betray my lover melted, and I had to accept the truth. I did love Roger – I loved them both.
“If I have nothing, you will leave me,” he confessed. He let go of his hold on me and sat up straight. “The printing press is hemorrhaging money, as are the trains. It is as if everything I touch now fails. I've even lost you.”
“I don't care about your money. The inheritance my father left me is more than I could ever spend. We will figure out how to fix our business issues together,” I said. Sitting next to him, I took his hand. “I've been here all along. How can you say you lost me? Roger, I don't understand what you mean.”
Roger tensed as if my question hurt him. “This is the first time in weeks you have touched me or made me feel like, maybe, you did love me.”
“How can you say this? We have made love daily.”
“You've been cold as if you were going through the motions to please me. And…” his words trailed off.
“And what?” I asked nervously.
“You say his name in your sleep,” he stated.
“Foolishness. There is only you,” I lied. “What is this name you claim I am saying?”
“James. You call for James,” he said, pulling away from me.
“You have it wrong,” I lied. “Do you know my brothers' names?”
“Of course, Brandon, Charles, Daniel and Paul.”
“James Paul Drygen was my youngest brother. My closest brother.”
I'm sorry to involve you in my lie, Paul, I apologized silently. My eyes welled with tears at the thought of my brother's smile. Paul would've teased me with, `Aren't you mommy's little protégée. She would be proud to know how quickly you can cover your deceit'.
“I've been a fool. I couldn't stomach the thought of you with anyone else, Blanche. You are my world,” Roger said, touching my cheek. “Of course, you would never cheat on me.” A look of warning flashed across his face before easing into remorse. “My jealous heart has always failed me. Tell me you forgive me.”