Traveled Hearts (First In Series Book 1)

by Veronica Mahara

Chapter Twelve

  Resting her head against the trunk of the oak, Jessica placed her hand on Jacob’s chest. The pulse under his tight abdomen beat strongly. While she ranted about the social event she attended last night, part of her mind was taking pleasure in his half-naked body, and part of her was abashed she was again seeing and feeling him in this way. The desire for him was mounting and it gave her a pleasant dizziness. This was love, no matter what society would have to say about it. The birds in the trees chirped, and the dragonflies skidded across the pond in the early August heat. Large bumblebees hovered over the flowers in the grassy area surrounding them. The swim had cooled her body, but now another heat rose up under her skin.

  “Jess,” Jacob said. His voice was low and hoarse. Placing his hand atop hers, he stopped its motion. “I should take you home. This may lead to something you’re not ready for.”

  “Do you really want to take me home, Jacob?”

  When she turned her head to him he brought his lips to her mouth. It wasn’t the first time, but Jessica felt something different from him. Jacob’s breathing was audible as he moved his body over hers. She felt herself become weak. Her mind flooded with waves of ecstasy mixed with fear. Pulling down her pantaloons and raising her petticoat, he kissed her lips, then her neck. The blood rushed to her head as she helped him remove his damp long johns. Every touch of his body enthralled her. She lie back in sweet surrender, anticipating the great unknown.

  The unexpected pain of his penetration made her cry out.

  “Jessica,” he whispered. Unable to face him, she wiped the tears streaking her face. “I’ll stop, Jess.”

  The air was thick around her, but his heavy breathing hit her face like a soft breeze from heaven. It filled her with courage. “No … no,” she said. Her throat was tight with emotion. Turning twenty last week was a milestone in her life. Now another threshold awaited her, and she would cross this one with Jacob.

  “Look at me, Jess.”

  His eyes were damp, and his brows were knitted in concern. Kissing her cheeks, then slowly moving his lips to her ear, she heard him whisper, “I love you.” Feeling her body relax, she let him try again. This time she embraced him within her, the pleasure mixed with pain. She felt as if she was about to lose her mind as the smell of his sweaty chest threw her into an explosive state of ecstasy. Before she realized what was happening, he was removing himself from her with a moan of agony. A silence followed.

  The world felt as if it had become a bubble around them. It encompassed the sound of her heart beating in every part of her body along with the soft waves of the pond lightly cresting the pebbled shore and the wind barely stirring the leaves. Clearing her throat, Jessica asked meekly, “Are you all right?”

  “Mmmm.” His voice was low and she caught a satisfied grin across his face.

  Waiting for his next move, she lie still. After a while, he rolled over and began to kiss her as if she were some kind of dessert. Confused, but relieved, she laughed. “Stop, that tickles.”

  Joining her gaiety, Jacob gently placed his hand onto her cheek. She was lost in his eyes, the deep brown with just a speck of yellow in one of them. Moving her lips to his mouth they lingered in their oneness. Jacob slowly pulled away and spoke quietly. “Are you all right, Jess? Was that too much? I mean … did I hurt you too much? I know it was your first time.”

  “I’m fine.” Having no other words for it, she let that suffice. Maybe in the future she would share with him the tremendous feeling she had experienced, or maybe not. A part of her felt protective of it. When she moved the lower half of her body, she noticed it felt different, she felt different. Then she wondered about his actions. “Jacob? Did I hurt you?”

  He chuckled. “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you sounded and acted as if—”

  He interrupted her with another short laugh.

  “What?” Propping up on an elbow, she looked down at him.

  “What do you mean, what? You’re twenty years old, Jess. Don’t you know about the ‘birds and the bees’?”

  She lowered her body against his. “Well of course I do. Mother told me. Some things, at any rate.”

  “Such as?” He gestured for her to continue.

  With a raised chin, she replied, “Mother said that the act of love between a man and wife is sacred.”

  “Is that all she told you?” He smirked. “We are not a man and wife.”

  Jessica wrinkled her nose and he kissed it. Her friend Sarah had filled in some of the gaps of her education on the subject, but she could see now that it was not as helpful as she had thought it to be at the time.

  “Jess, I didn’t want you to become pregnant.”

  “I see. Of course. I understand that.” Sliding a loosened strand of hair behind her ear, Jessica wasn’t satisfied. “I still don’t know why you …” Then her embarrassment surfaced. She knew she was not his equal, and as a male he would be worldlier than she, even if he was only three years older. It had never seemed to matter, until now. Wanting to run away and hide, she began to redress herself.

  “Girls aren’t told about these things. Perhaps some are, but most aren’t,” Jacob explained while he struggled to get his pants on.

  Swiping at the skirt of her dress to remove the wrinkles she looked at the bunched-up back and continued to mindlessly iron it out. Jacob reached out his hand to her. “I’m sorry, Jess.”

  Barely hearing his apology over her own feelings of inadequacy, she closed her eyes and noticed that her body was unusually calm. The pleasure of it eased her disturbed mind. The thick, warm air embraced her, and she was lost in her own thoughts.

  “Where are you, Jess?” she heard him whisper. Feeling the warmth of his breath through her hair, she pushed aside her embarrassment.

  The mighty oak provided a canopy of shade and the grass felt cool under her. Sitting side by side, they languished in the afternoon, but Jessica was determined to know more about sex. When she asked Jacob to tell her all he knew, she leaned against his shoulder and listened intently.

  Hanging on his every word, she stopped him now and then to make sure he wasn’t just making some of it up to tease her, and he assured her it was all true. At the end, he wrapped up the lesson in a professorial voice saying, “So in conclusion, my dear, whenever a man and a woman copulate it could result in a child. The end.”

  A bit dumbfounded, but glad of the knowledge, she couldn’t respond right away to his glibness. How exactly a child was conceived was no longer a mystery. The truth, however, seemed more impossible than any of her own imaginings. Did her mother know all this?

  They made love again that afternoon, and the sweetness of it gave Jessica a sense of belonging to him in a way she had never experienced with any other person.

  When the daylight began to change, she knew time would not stand still. Tucking this glorious day away in her heart, she would return to her life, but not as the same person. The blooming of her womanhood was hers to embrace, and no one could take it away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Waiting for Frederick Moore’s arrival, Jessica sat dutifully in the parlor. Her mother had insisted on a low fire to dry out the room from the oppressive August humidity. There was also one set in the dining hall and in the kitchen. Nothing seemed to help including the fan Jessica waved over her face and chest. Considering the night ahead, she planned on being polite while making it perfectly clear to Mr. Moore she was not interested in him. She longed for the evening to be over, with the Englishman in his place.

  Thinking of Jacob helped to distract her. She had to admit she was nervous to see Mr. Moore. In spite of the risks, she and Jacob continued to meet at their usual place by the pond, where she felt as if they were the only two human beings on earth. They talked and laughed, kissed and petted with lusty abandonment. Jessica did not allow them to take it as far as they had in the past. After Jacob’s speech, she knew she had to protect herself. His passion for her came through, and it was all she needed t
o confirm their feelings for one another were real. Yet, when Jacob talked of leaving, she felt the vulnerability of their tender relationship. She put it out of her head, letting his last kiss replace any doubts.

  The minutes felt like hours. The strap on her new shoes felt tight, and she tugged at each one to no avail. Straightening the lace and satin around the square neckline of her bodice, she then inspected the deep-red dress with strips of cream-colored lace running down the skirt of her favorite gown. It should have been worn for a more important occasion, but her mother insisted this was the dress to wear tonight with a small crinoline, not just a bustle. “It will show off your figure,” she advised.

  Jessica didn’t care for the stiffly structured undergarment. Her corset was enough. The latest fashions had neither, but her mother would hear nothing of it. Jessica much preferred the softer bustle when sitting for long periods of time. Standing, she smoothed the back of her dress and heard her mother rushing down the stairs.

  “Jessica! Jessica!”

  “I’m in here, Mother, no need to shout.” The sharp chime from the front door set her heart racing.

  Her mother’s skirts swished as she turned to stand by her daughter while Winnie answered the door. “Oh, I only wish your father were here!”

  “He said he would meet us at the restaurant, Mother. Please calm down.”

  “Calm down? I think you are too calm. Yes, yes, well, let me take a look at you.” Bethany gave her daughter a once over, then stood as rigid as a soldier.

  Holding her breath, Jessica closed her eyes and practiced again, in her head, how she would avoid showing any interest in Frederick while entertaining his every word. Letting out a puff of air, she was ready. Then her insides twisted at the thought of having to go through a long, dreadful evening of pretense.

  “Good evening, Mr. Moore,” Jessica began formally.

  “Good evening, Miss Messing.” He dipped his head, his English accent enhancing the formal air between them. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Don’t you look very handsome tonight,” Bethany remarked.

  “As do you, madame.”

  “Oh, why thank you, Frederick.”

  Although her mother’s girlishness made Jessica cringe she had to agree, he did look very handsome. Before she could rekindle thoughts of Jacob, Mr. Moore interrupted. In a deep, melodic voice, he said, “And may I also say that you are looking especially lovely tonight, Miss Messing.”

  An unwanted blush warmed her cheeks. “Thank you. You may call me Jessica.”

  Frederick nodded politely. “I have a carriage and driver waiting for us.” He gestured for the ladies to go before him.

  Indeed, he had arrived in one of the finest hackneys in town. Bethany gleefully exited the house while Jessica walked by him without a glance.

  ~

  The restaurant her father had chosen was a favorite place for engagements, weddings and anniversaries. Now they could add arranging marriages to the list, Jessica thought ruefully. Thomas was waiting at their round, white-clothed table, which was lit only by candles in the center and a gaslight sconce on the wall. The intimacy of it jarred Jessica.

  “My dear.” Thomas greeted his wife with a kiss on her cheek, then turned to his daughter. “Jessica, my girl, you are looking well tonight. Please forgive my meeting you here. A difficult case had me stuck at my desk. I had to rearrange everything my clerk had …” Thomas turned to Frederick. “Thank you for delivering our beautiful dinner companions.”

  Embarrassed by her father’s suggestion that she was somehow already attached to Frederick, Jessica acutely regretted agreeing to this evening. Maybe I’ll be sick and we’ll have to leave. She held steady, hoping the time would pass quickly. Frederick waved on the maître d’. Her eyes grew wide as he offered her a chair. Gently, he helped push her in closer to the table. “Thank you.”

  The touch of his hand sweeping lightly over her shoulder and brushing her cheek sent a tingle up her spine. Sitting straighter, she looked at her parents, but they didn’t seem to notice, and Frederick was now in his own seat. Taking the menu in hand, she would order the most delectable items. Tonight, she would indulge as much as her corseted waist would allow.

  In spite of herself, Jessica was drawn to Frederick’s maturity and confidence. The way he included her in the conversation made her feel like an adult, something she rarely experienced with her own family. Even at twenty years old, her brother still sometimes referred to her as “the baby.” She had to admit this acknowledgment of her as a woman was quite satisfying, though with every bite of food, she pushed down any further attraction to him.

  “I would love to see your paintings. Your father tells me you’re quite good.”

  With little enthusiasm Jessica answered, “If you stop by the Cromwell Gallery on Benton, you’ll see a small painting of mine in the window. Mr. Cromwell, the owner and my employer, said it is better than average. He displays it to encourage other novice artists to take his classes. It isn’t one of my best works. I’d be glad to show you my recent landscapes.” Returning her attention to the filet mignon, she sliced it into small pieces.

  “You’re employed?” Frederick turned to Thomas. The pause in the conversation was palpably awkward.

  Her mother leaned in, a look of dismay sweeping across her face. “It’s only temporary. The gallery is nothing more than a hobby.”

  Jessica placed her utensils to the sides of her plate. “Yes, I do work, Mr. Moore. My art is my work, and spending time at the gallery is inspiring.” That would do it. He would be turned off to her for sure.

  “Still, I would enjoy seeing your work.” His large, hazel eyes lingered on her, and she became uncomfortably self-conscious. What were his intentions? Was a relationship already decided? A feeling of dread entered her body. She brought her hand up to her lower neck and held herself in check as she smiled at him and her parents.

  ~

  The ride back home was relatively quiet, except for a comment on the excellent meal and the weather. Jessica had to avert her eyes several times away from Frederick’s stares. The horses clattering on the graveled drive came to a stop in front of the large veranda. The men stepped down and helped the women exit the carriage. Frederick was nearly on his way when Jessica heard him ask her parents for their permission to see her again. “Perhaps the theatre or ballet?” They cheerfully gave their approval. She stepped onto the first landing, needing air. Her feet were hurting and her corset pinched. This evening could not end soon enough.

  To her surprise, Frederick looked up. With soft eyes and in a clear voice he said, “Of course, if that is to your liking, Miss Messing.”

  His genuine consideration beyond her parents’ approval had her saying, “Yes, that would be fine, Mr. Moore.”

  “Very well, then I shall call on you soon. Good night, Jessica.”

  “Good night,” she answered with a slight dip of her head, which she immediately regretted.

  Taking a fistful of her skirt in each hand, she climbed the stairs to her room. The food had upset her stomach. Or maybe it was something else. Once in her nightclothes, she was more comfortable. Then she got into bed, drawing only the cotton sheet over her. Tomorrow she would write a note to Sarah, telling her about Mr. Moore. It would amuse her friend to learn she’d been treated like an adult–even by her parents. The feeling of being on equal ground with Frederick, despite their age difference was quite enjoyable. As she fluffed her pillow and tried to get comfortable, she heard her parents enter the house.

  The thin walls of the house allowed her father’s voice to penetrate her sanctuary. “That went well, but we must encourage her to be even more gracious next time. Jessica? Well, where is she? Jessica!”

  Pressing her pillow around her ears, she sat up and gave out a great belch. Relieved, she lie back down, hoping to escape into sleep. Her parents crossed the threshold of her bedroom door, and she heard her mother say, “You know this is her first experience of this nature, so we mu
st tread lightly.”

  The comment had Jessica feeling a daughter’s guilt. Her mother knew nothing of her unspeakable behavior. Tears welled in her eyes as she mourned her lost childhood. Suddenly the child in her ached to call her mother “Mommy” and to sit on her warm lap while she hummed a lullaby as she had so long ago. Her desire to separate from her parents left a great void in her heart. She wiped the tears from her face. Was this what womanhood felt like?

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Victoria House was growing on Frederick. Its cozy rooms of upholstered chairs and thick rugs, and the brick fireplace in the parlor and one in his bedroom, welcomed him back each time. Knowing these rooms would not be his residence forever added to their appeal.

  The desk clerk greeted him from behind the front counter. “Good evening, sir. We started a fire in the hearth. Your bed has been turned down and the bar has been refreshed. Would tea or coffee suit you this evening?”

  “Nothing, thank you.” Frederick headed for the comfort of his rooms.

  “Oh, sir.” The clerk stopped him. “This came for you this afternoon. I meant to deliver it to you earlier, but it got buried under some of my papers.”

  “Very well.” Frederick impatiently took the small envelope from the man’s hand and saw Molly’s handwriting. His head began to pulse painfully. Upon entering his suite, he placed the letter on the polished end table in the sitting area. After fixing himself a nightcap, he picked up the letter and relaxed into one of the wingback chairs that sat in front of the fireplace. Staring at the low, flickering flame, he wondered what possessed the maid to start it as the August heat was stifling. He sniffed his brandy and let out a sigh. The evening had gone quite well. Jessica amused and aroused him at the same time. With a huff, he scratched his head. He’d have to teach her many things.

  Turning the letter over in his hand, he drifted further into his fantasy about Thomas’s daughter. It slipped, and the corner of the envelope hit his foot. Molly was in the room, demanding his attention. A curse came to his lips as he tamped down the fire. Picking her letter up, he turned it over and smiled. The back of the envelope had been sealed with her red-stained lips. Breaking the seal brought a brief scent of perfume to his nose. “You harlot.” She knew exactly what he liked. It took him back to their intimacy, stirring his feelings for her. Remembering how freely she gave herself to him tested his resolve. Her love and devotion were his for the taking. Yet he had decided to leave everything behind and start fresh. Perhaps he had been foolish to let her go. It was easier to get her out of his mind with the Atlantic between them, but as he looked at her handwriting and took in her scent, he was pained with regret and longing. He took a good swig of his drink and read her words.