Midnight Rose

by Patricia Hagan

  He began to suck and lick the champagne from her delicate flesh, and each touch was fire in her blood. Without realizing what she was doing, she released her hold on the pillow and reached out instead to caress him tenderly as he devoured her. Her legs entwined around his back as she arched yet closer. She could feel a strange sweet-hot needling sensation beginning from deep within her belly at the same time the low gurgling in her throat began to fight its way upward.

  Ryan felt it, too, and was not about to give her blessed release—not till she begged for it.

  He withdrew, and her eyes flashed open to stare in pained disbelief. Surely he was not stopping, her tormented mind screamed, but then he was looming over her, to lower his body the length of hers, to cover her lips with his. She could taste herself on his tongue, and she returned his kiss with fervor. Their bodies clung together, perspiration slick and undulating, every muscle taut, tingling, every nerve wild and shrieking for release.

  She wanted him. Oh, God, she wanted him. Inside her. Forever. Always.

  He was further tormenting by allowing his rock-hard member to throb between her legs, not quite touching that burning core that silently begged to be caressed once more. She spread her legs to receive him, boldly reached to cup his buttocks to pull him closer.

  As much as he wanted her, Ryan could not help raising his mouth from hers to command hoarsely, “Admit it, Erin. You want it as much as I do.”

  Erin, far too lost in passion to be incensed by further taunting, could only whisper, “Yes, yes, I want you,’ and clutch him against her even more. There would be time later to admonish herself for her weakness. For the moment, she could only seek to answer the longing, the calling, of her hungry body.

  “Take me,” he commanded, maneuvering on top of her once more and spreading her legs wide. “Take me where you want me to be.”

  Boldly, brazenly, she reached for him, positioning him. He drove deep and hard, shuddering with his own needs, and she cried out, legs wrapping tightly about his waist. He leaned to cover her mouth with his, then traced hot kisses along her neck before burrowing his face in the hollow between her shoulder and neck. She responded with nibbling kisses to his cheek and ear. He was driving into her relentlessly, his movements urgent, hard. His body was convulsing over hers as though he had lost all control. She pulled him ever harder against her as she felt the needles stab once more, and her buttocks were bouncing up and down in unison with his driving thrusts.

  She called his name, gasping, crying at the wonder that wrapped her from head to toe in a cocoon of smothering bliss. He reached to clamp her bottom and hold her secure, firm, as he drove into her mercilessly, taking himself to his own tower of surrender. Never, he realized through the dizzying shroud that was engulfing him, had it ever been like this, never so dazzling or intense. It was as though something in her was reaching out to pull him inside her, and he was drowning.

  He cried out but pounded on, and she answered him with her own call for more, and finally, when he thought he was surely dying, he felt the great, gasping shudder and exploded inside her.

  They became one.

  He gently collapsed on top of her but continued to hold her close. His breath was warm on her neck, and his sweat-damp body melded against hers as if they were truly only one flesh. “Did I hurt you?” he asked her, suddenly remembering it was her first time.

  Erin felt a bit embarrassed to admit, “I’m afraid I have to stop and think about it. I was so…” She could not go on.

  “I know.” Rolling to one side, he looked at her in the mellow glow of the bedside lantern and admitted, “I was lost in the moment, too.” They lay quietly for a time, and then, fearing she might think he had somehow surrendered, he pretended to goad, “Tell me. Do you think it will be so bad, being my love slave?”

  “Ha! We’ll see who’s the slave and who’s the master,” she fired back good-naturedly. It was all so uncanny, this emotion washing over her, tingling, stirring. She never dreamed it would be like this—so good, so right. Wasn’t she supposed to feel subservient?

  He gazed at her in affectionate wonder, then remembered her anger. “So tell me,” he prodded curiously. “How did you find out about Ermine? Not that I was trying to keep it a secret, mind you. It’s just that it never came up, and I saw no reason to mention it.”

  “It’s not important how I found out,” she replied, reaching to pull the sheet up to her chin, because now she felt a bit embarrassed to be lying next to him naked. It was still all so new, and she was not yet comfortable with the intimacy. “I would like to hear about it, though, seeing as I was warned right before we left that when your mother came home, I’d be facing not only her wrath, but your fiancée’s as well.”

  “Ermine won’t care,” he assured her. “She only wanted to marry me for material reasons, same as you. The two of you would probably get on well together. She’ll find someone else. She’s not an unattractive girl. As for my mother, she’ll just have to accept things as they are.”

  “You really make it all sound so callous, so cold,” Erin could not resist saying. “Didn’t you ever think about marrying for love?”

  “Love?” he scoffed. “There’s no such thing. It’s fantasy. Like the pot of gold that’s supposed to be found at the end of a rainbow. The rainbow is pretty to look at it, but it doesn’t exist…just like love,” he added with a bitter smile.

  “So you really didn’t care who you married.”

  “Of course, I cared. I wanted you, Erin, as I’d never wanted a woman before. Maybe in the beginning, I’ll admit my intention was to make you my mistress, but enough about that.” He raised up on an elbow to look down at her in amusement as he queried, “Tell me why you were so angry about the lingerie.”

  She proceeded to do so, mincing no words.

  He chuckled. “What a little hypocrite you are. You gave me the impression you didn’t give a damn what people thought, yet you panicked that someone would think you wore revealing undies. Well, we’ll just take care of that when we get home. You can go to Madame Estelle and tell her it was all a mistake, that you do want the lingerie, after all.”

  “I’ll do nothing of the kind,” she cried, pushing him away as he sought to take her in his arms once more.

  “We’ll argue later.” He laughed, crushing her against him. “We’ve got the rest of our lives to argue, Erin, as well as make love, like this…”

  Chapter Fifteen

  They crossed the Rappahannock River by ferry and proceeded to Westmoreland County alongside the Potomac River. Erin slept most of the way, weary from the long hours of lovemaking. Though Ryan also had cause to be exhausted, she suspected the way he seemed so cool and detached was due to something else. He appeared to be brooding, and she did not know why and was not about to ask. But what could she expect? she pondered. He had only married her to get what he wanted by night. Why should he pay any attention to her by day?

  They spent the night at another guest cottage on a bluff overlooking the Potomac River. Again, arrangements had been made in advance, and they were provided with luxurious accommodations, the best wine and food.

  “You certainly seem to have some rich and influential friends,” Erin remarked as they dined on roast duck and cherry sauce, accompanied by sweet scuppernong wine, which he said was made right there on the plantation.

  “My family has always traveled a lot,” he said matter-of-factly. “The men, anyway.”

  “Well, you’ll have company from now on.”

  Curtly, he disagreed. “Oh, I doubt that. You’ll be too busy having babies.”

  Erin felt a needle of resentment. “In case you’re interested, I happen to have other interests in life besides a baby every year. I want to get out, see things, do things. I don’t intend to have a baby right away. I want to just get used to being married, running a household, and—”

  “You won’t be running anything, Erin.”

  She had just taken a bite of cherry sauce. She quickly swallowed an
d demanded to know what he meant by such a remark.

  Carefully, he laid down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with the napkin before coolly informing her, “My mother is still mistress of Jasmine Hill, and tradition decrees she will remain so as long as she lives. Granted, she’s not an easy person to get along with, but it’s a large house, thank goodness, and the two of you should have no trouble avoiding each other. But you won’t have any responsibilities. She maintains full charge of the household.

  “As for your not wanting a baby right away, I think nature will take care of that,” he continued, watching her closely to gauge her reaction. “I want as many children as it’s possible for us to have. And frankly, I don’t know what you mean when you say you want to get out, see things, do things. The only thing there is for you to do is be a wife and mother. What else do you have in mind?” His eyes raked her almost suspiciously.

  Erin felt a frantic wave. She was going to have to be able to have some freedom in order to work with Mahalia and the Free Soilers. “I like to go riding,” she said airily. “By myself. I’ll be going to visit my mother. And there’s church work. She’s been wanting me to join her in that. There are all sorts of things I can do with my time, Ryan. Please don’t expect me to sit around the house like an old woman, tatting with your mother.”

  He pushed his plate away. As was his way, he got straight to the point. “I’ve changed my mind about taking a mistress, Erin.”

  She shook her head, not understanding, and demanded, “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I wasn’t expecting to have a passionate life with Ermine. I intended to sleep with her for the sole reason of having babies, but look to someone else for the real warmth a man needs from a woman. I imagine that Ermine, like a lot of other women, planned to take a lover from time to time for her own diversion.

  “But it isn’t going to be that way for us,” he fervently declared as he got to his feet, walked around to stand behind her and clutch her shoulders possessively “I’ve found something in you I never thought existed in just one woman, Erin—warmth, passion, excitement, a keen wit, intelligence. I’m not sure just which quality draws me the most. I only know I have no need of another woman.

  “And,” he finished with an ominous tone, “I also know I’m not about to share you with another man.”

  Indignant, she reminded him, “I was a virgin, and you know it. I’m not the type to be promiscuous. You should know that; you certainly tried hard enough to prove otherwise,” she added tartly.

  He ignored her sarcasm and went on. “Decent women seldom are till after they’re married and find themselves bored. That’s not going to be the case with us. I paid a dear price for your body—my pride. I’d kill any man who tried to take you away from me, and if you ever tried to leave me, I’d probably break your beautiful neck.” His fingers closed about her throat.

  Erin knocked his arms away as she bolted from the chair. Whirling about furiously, she saw the devilish grin on his face, the twinkle in his eyes. “How dare you joke about something like that!”

  “Who says I’m joking? Just bear in mind that now that I’ve got you, I’m going to keep you, and you won’t have anything to worry about.” He then lifted her into his arms and headed for the bedroom, ignoring how she held herself stiffly aloof. Nuzzling her cheek, he whispered, “All you do have to worry about is having the stamina to feed my hunger, because I’ll never get enough of you.”

  He laid her on the bed, then delighted in undressing her slowly, savoring every inch of flesh as it was revealed to him. He covered her body with his lips, tenderly, gently, as though paying homage to a rare and fine work of art.

  Though Erin reveled in his every kiss and caress, she managed to hold back a part of herself to keep him from knowing just how much she enjoyed and craved his lovemaking.

  That was her secret, and her only weapon against his ultimate goal of total submission.

  During the nights that followed, there were many times she would pretend merely to submit, just to enrage and make him exquisitely torture her into begging for bittersweet release. Yet, no matter how driven he was to take her, always he was delicate, disciplined, at just the right moments. Never did she feel used or violated. Always, she was completely satiated when it was over.

  It was a triumph to her ego to have had him confess he had no interest in ever bedding another woman, but she was not about to tell him she could never imagine herself in the arms of another man.

  Despite the closeness and intimacy they shared by night, their days were still a war of wits as they battled each other in their own kind of defensive pride.

  Their journey was leisurely. They crossed the Potomac by ferry, then continued on to Washington. They stopped two nights along the way, again at prearranged cottages. Always, there was utmost privacy, and no host, hostess, or servants were ever seen.

  Washington, however, was another story. There, they stayed at a fine hotel. During the day, they went sightseeing or shopping, but at night, they were entertained in private homes. Erin quickly learned her husband was prominent elsewhere besides Virginia, as she met senators and congressmen, the cream of Washington society. She was delighted to feel so respected and stood proudly, regally beside him.

  When she wanted to know how it was that he knew so many people, he matter-of-factly said he was a graduate of West Point and had fought in the War of 1812. “Military, wars, and politicians seem to go together,” he declared with a wry smile.

  Erin was enjoying the social whirl and had to admit to being completely happy in her role as a new bride. Still, she was worried about her mother, as well as Letty. Not knowing what was going on back home filled her with anxiety, and one morning she could not resist asking how much longer they would be traveling.

  “Aren’t you having a good time?” he asked with a frown.

  Quickly, she assured him, “Of course. I was just wondering, that’s all.”

  It was early morning, and they were having breakfast in their room. Ryan picked up the envelopes on the table that had been brought in with their tray. Every day, it was the same. Dozens of invitations were delivered to the hotel as word spread that he was in town. He began to leaf through them, tossing to one side those he had no intention of accepting, deliberating over the others. “Theater. Dinner. A tea party. A weekend of riding and hunting.” He shook his head, amused by the variety offered. “Do you like opera? We’ve been invited to the opening performance of Faust, and…what’s this?” He focused on a cream-colored envelope, opened it with interest, and then nodded to himself. “I think we’ll accept this one. Dinner with Representative James Tallmadge of New York and his wife.”

  “Who’s he?” Erin asked but did not really care. All it meant was another night dressed in elegance, clinging to her husband’s arm, sipping wine and smiling graciously.

  “He’s the one who started all the uproar last February over the Missouri territory’s preparations for statehood. Congress introduced what they called the ‘Missouri Bill,’ which gave permission for them to draft their state constitution, but Tallmadge wanted two amendments to it—a declaration that no more slaves could be brought in and another stating the children of those already there had to be freed when they reached the age of twenty-five.”

  “Now I know the name,” she said. “The House of Representatives passed both amendments, but they were defeated in the Senate.”

  Ryan was impressed. He had never known a woman who even concerned herself with political matters, much less one who obviously knew what she was talking about. “How did you know that?” he couldn’t resist asking.

  She returned his questioning stare with one of her own to counter. “The same way you did, probably. In the newspapers.”

  “You read the newspapers? The political news?” He was still astonished.

  “Of course, I do.” She was beginning to feel defensive, and realizing that made her angry. “Why do you find that so surprising?”

 
“Most women don’t—” he began.

  But she cut him off to remind him tartly, “I’m not most women, Ryan. You’d do well to remember that.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. He resisted the temptation to get into another contest of wits. Standing, he informed her he had some business to take care of and said, “You’ll have to entertain yourself today. Here’s money if you want to go shopping.”

  She didn’t, but quickly took the money. It was not the first he had given her, and she was hiding as much as possible in the lining of her trunk. By the time they got home, she would have an impressive sum to send to Mahalia.

  That night she wore a lemon-colored dress and cape with a flowered band in her hair. Quite dignified, not too formal, she decided, glancing at herself in the mirror. Ryan would be pleased. He had gone over her wardrobe with her, explaining what gowns should be worn for which functions they attended. She was not pleased that he took the position of telling her what to wear, but, since she had not much experience in social matters, decided to yield this once. When they returned to Richmond, however, she would take over her own wardrobe selection.

  The evening began with a social hour. Guests enjoyed wine and hors d’oeuvres while chamber music played.

  At dinner, she found herself seated to the right of Representative Tallmadge. Table talk was generic, broaching no particular subject. Small talk. Trivia. Erin knew it was because politics or serious matters were never discussed in the presence of ladies. Still, she kept hoping some mention would be made of the situation concerning Missouri, because she was deeply interested now, more than ever, in anything that pertained to slavery.

  She knew after dinner it was customary for the men to go into the parlor with their brandy and cigars. The women had tea or sherry in another room and chatted about babies and children and sewing, topics she was not interested in for the time being. Fearing she would never have another opportunity to discuss such a vital subject with so important a man, Erin seized the opportunity during a rare lull in conversation to comment, “I understand, Mr. Tallmadge, that you’re the representative who proposed the two amendments concerning the admission of Missouri as a slave state.”