Captain Of Her Heart
Page 27
Just then, his wife clawed at his arms and screamed, and Jason feared he might swoon. The ensuing hour passed in a haze of panic and frustration, as Alex emitted one gut-wrenching cry after another and shed a tidal wave of tears.
“Hold her steady, Captain.” In the candlelight, beads of perspiration glistened on his brow, as the physician positioned himself between her legs. “All right, your ladyship. Push.”
With a long, drawn out groan, his amazing bride tensed and gritted her teeth, and Jason whispered praise in her ear.
“I can see the babe.” Dr. Studly grabbed another towel. “Push, my lady. Give it everything you can muster.”
“Come on, love.” Jason braced and willed his strength into her feminine frame. “You can do it, my brave Alex.”
For a scarce second, time stood still, as she froze, with her mouth open in a silent scream. An eerie quiet fell over the bedchamber—until an unholy bellow rent the air.
Misty-eyed, Jason choked up, as his heir entered the world. And in true Collingwood fashion, his son let loose an impressive squall, as Miss Phipps scurried forward to claim him.
“He is beautiful, Alex.” Jason peered at his incredible wife and discovered she had fainted.
“Good God, revive her.” Dr. Studly tossed a bag of smelling salts at Jason. “Hurry. Your second child arrives, even now.”
“But would it not be easier if she slept through it?” Jason retrieved the salts.
“Are you out of your mind?” The physician assumed his position. “Do it, man. Else your other babe will die.”
At that point, Jason had not hesitated. As her eyelids fluttered, Alex moaned and reached for him.
“How is my baby?” She sucked in a breath.
“We have a fine son, sweetheart.” He kissed her temple. “Now be strong, love. As we have one more on the way.”
“I can’t do it.” She wept. “I simply—” Her shrill wail reverberated throughout the master suite.
Blood stained the white towels, and Jason shuddered.
“All right.” Dr. Studly dragged his shirtsleeve across his face. “Push, your ladyship.”
And so the nightmare began again.
Instead of the thirteen hours Alex had already labored, things moved with amazing swiftness. His second son came into being much the same as the first, with a thunderous roar, and Molly took him into her care.
“Thank you, Alex.” Jason gazed on his offspring with pride, then studied his wife and realized she had again swooned. Relief mixed with gratitude, yet he could not translate his emotions into words. “Should I wake her, Dr. Studly?”
“Not this time, as her work is done.” The physician tended Alex. “Her ladyship is in excellent condition, so I shall examine the children and take my leave.”
“I am in your debt, Dr. Studly.” Jason focused on his bride. Damp brown ringlets hung limp about her brow and emphasized her pale skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes. But in that moment, Jason thought she had never looked lovelier. In her ear, he whispered, “I am so proud of you, darling. You have made me so happy.”
“Cap’n, I would like to bathe her ladyship and change the linens. Molly guards the babes in the nursery, if you wish to visit them.” Miss Phipps smiled. “And might I suggest you get some rest?”
“I will, Gertie.” He claimed a kiss, before relinquishing his wife.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Jason strolled into the hall. At the door to the nursery, he met Dr. Studly.
“You have two strapping sons, Captain Collingwood.” The physician extended a hand, and they shared a vigorous shake. “Must take after their father.”
“You are too kind.” Jason chuckled.
“And they are identical, with one exception.” Dr. Studly smiled. “But I wager her ladyship will be pleased.”
Minutes later, as he cradled his sleeping baby boys, Jason understood the doctor’s cryptic comment. Gerald and Gerard, named as his wife had decreed, were perfectly matched twins with a sole distinguishing feature—their hair. One babe boasted a shock of blonde, and the other sported a brunette thatch.
“I suppose we have both left our mark, Alex.” With a son nestled in the crook of each arm, his body trembled with incomprehensible elation, and his heart burst with unfathomable joy, as Jason relaxed in a chair before the windows and wept.
#
“Must say you have healed at a remarkable pace, your ladyship.” Dr. Studly gathered his black bag and hat. “You may resume marital relations, but take it slow, as you seem a bit warm.”
“Thank you, doctor. And I assure you, I am quite well.” Alex gave her back to Miss Phipps, who retied the laces of Alex’s gown. “Will I require another examination?”
“As long as you follow my advice, I think not.” At the door, he paused and smiled. “Captain Collingwood made an excellent midwife. Now, if you have no more questions, I shall check on the twins and be on my way, as it would be nice to dine with my wife.”
“You have been so helpful.” Alex smoothed her skirts. “We appreciate everything you have done for us, Dr. Studly.”
“That is my job, your ladyship.” He plopped his hat atop his head and nodded once. “Good day.”
With a bawdy little ditty playing in her brain, Alex walked to the armoire and set the doors wide. It took all of two seconds to decide on the gown she would wear for dinner. Holding the sumptuous garment to her chest, she turned and scrutinized her appearance in the long mirror.
To the casual observer, she wanted for nothing. She had two healthy, beautiful babies. She had the elegant manor of which she had dreamed. And Alex had more than she could have fathomed in a spouse—except the one thing she wanted most.
Her husband’s declaration.
“Oh, my lady.” Gertie pressed a hand to her throat. “What a lovely dress.”
“Is it not?” She fitted the bodice to her breasts, as she had lost most of the excess weight from her pregnancy. The lone noticeable change in her figure was her ample bosom. “I wore this gown the night I met Captain Collingwood.”
“Oh, I say.” The housekeeper snickered. “Cap’n will fall over himself, when he gets a look at you, in that frock.”
“Indeed, that is the plan.” How she cherished the sweet memory, as she recalled his expression, the raw hunger, when they had locked gazes, so long ago. And she intended to resurrect that yearning—tonight. “Miss Phipps, will you help me?”
“Of course, your ladyship.” Gertie fetched a matching pair of slippers. “What have you in mind?”
“Ring for a bath.” Alex plotted her strategy. “Add some of my rosewater, as Jason favors it. And could you arrange my hair, as Molly and Tom are repainting their bedchamber in the cottage, and I would rather not delay their progress.”
“I should be too delighted to assist you, my lady.” The housekeeper winked. “Shall I air your dress for this evening?”
“What a marvelous idea.” Sitting at her vanity, Alex gazed at her reflection in the oval mirror and almost cried. As she admired her image, she filled not with vanity or pride but with relief. It was as if she had just returned home from a long voyage and welcomed an old friend.
Behind her, the massive four-poster loomed not as a specter of doom but of hope for the future she desperately desired but had not permitted herself to covet, since Plymouth. In an instant, she invoked the vision of her husband, his handsome features marred by worry and fear, as he held her while she gave birth. She recalled his tender care, his words of praise, and his unwavering support—and then Jason had moved into a guestroom.
To her chagrin, he had not returned to their bed.
So for the next couple of hours, she put her altruistic scheme into action, as she washed, primped, coiffed, and garbed herself with the singular objective of catching her knight.
“Hold your breath, my lady.” Miss Phipps yanked hard on the laces. “Just a tad more should do it.”
“Oh, what we do for fashion.” Alex hugged the corner post of the f
ootboard and winced. “This had better work.”
“There, now.” Retreating a step, Gertie admired the results. “Cap’n will be at your command, my lady.”
“I pray your are correct in your estimation.” If Jason rejected her now, she knew not how she would react.
“Arnold will soon ring the dinner bell, so you should join Cap’n.” The housekeeper collected the discarded clothing. “I will tidy the room, set out fresh towels, and turn down the sheets.”
“Gertie, you are a priceless gem.” Alex had done all she could. The rest was up to Jason.
And so she charged into the fray but drew up short as she descended the stairs. Summoning her expertise and cataloguing the skills useful in the pursuit of the male species, she halted, squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and inhaled a deep, calming breath. A lady never rushed into a room, as a gust of wind. Rather, she glided as an elegant swan on a still pond.
Nervous excitement mixed with sweet anticipation bubbled beneath her flesh, as she sailed into the drawing room to await her husband. Standing near the hearth, she laughed, as she pondered the transformation of the timeworn house and grounds into a grand estate.
“Good evening, my lovely wife.” Gorgeous, in a chocolate brown waistcoat, a navy coat, buckskin breeches, and polished Hessians, with the collar of his shirt opened, sans cravat, Jason smiled. “The dinner bell—”
The stillness of his frame, the fire in his blue eyes, and the slackening of his jaw attested to the fact that he had noted the significance of her attire.
“And a very good evening to you, my handsome husband.” Alex lowered her chin, walked straight to her tongue-tied spouse, and splayed her hands to his chest. “How delicious you look. I should just as soon take a bite of you.”
“What?” He blinked. “Uh—yes, I am fine. Shall we dine?”
“As you wish.” As they navigated the hall, she squeezed his arm, and his muscles flexed. “I had my final appointment with Dr. Studly, today.”
“Oh?” At the table, Jason held her chair, and her usual place setting to his left situated her within striking distance. “And what is the estimable physician’s diagnosis?”
“I am free to continue my duties, as your wife.” She pinned him with her stare, as she licked her lips. “All of them.”
Just then, Phipps entered the dining room, carrying a large covered dish. “Shall I commence serving, your ladyship?”
“I will care for my bride, Arnold.” Jason snatched the tongs and a plate. “You are dismissed.”
“We are having braised beef, with carrots and potatoes, one of your favorite meals.” Alex cast a coy smile at her captain. “Darling, I no longer eat for three.”
He glanced at the mountainous amount of fare and frowned. But when she rubbed her foot to his calf, he jumped. “Bloody hell. I will take this portion and prepare another for you.”
“There is no rush, although I am ravenously hungry.” Then she reached under the table and caressed his crotch. “But not for food.”
A telltale flush crept up his neck and spread, into his cheeks. “I initiated the search for tutors, for our boys.”
“What?” She offered herself on the proverbial silver platter, and he changed the topic. “Jason, they are babies, and it is too soon to interview tutors.”
“There is no time like the present.” As he lifted his tankard of ale, his hand shook. “And I want the best of everything for Gerald and Gerard.”
Over the next hour, her husband detailed his future plans for the twins, and Alex noted a serious deficiency. He made no mention of her. But she remained undaunted, as she clutched his hand and drew flirty circles in his palm. When she signaled for the final course, a decadent cherry compote, which she had intended to feed her uncharacteristically shy spouse while seated in his lap, Jason pushed from the table and stood.
“I will pass on dessert.” He tossed his napkin on his plate, stretched, and then bent to kiss her forehead. “If you need me, I will be in the study, as I have much work to complete.”
It took several minutes for Alex to register what had just happened and that she, alone, occupied the dining room. Her husband wanted her, of that she was certain. Yet he had rebuffed her advances. When she leaped from her chair, the floor seemed to pitch and roll beneath her feet, and she swayed.
“Are you unwell, your ladyship?” Phipps steadied her. “Shall I summon Cap’n?”
“No.” She smoothed her skirt. “I am fine.”
Then she turned on a heel and marched into her erstwhile fervent suitor’s private domain. When she stormed into the study, she found Jason at his desk.
“Alex?” He returned his pen to the inkstand. “Is there something—”
“Why do you avoid me?” She folded her arms, as she could take no more. “Why do you refuse to share our bed?”
#
It was a curious question, for which Jason had no answer.
Staring at his hands, he clenched his fists to conceal his trembling. What could he tell his wife? Would she laud the fact that her velvet gown reminded him of the blood that had stained the linens, when she birthed their sons? Would she dance a jig, were he to apprise her that nightmares had plagued his slumber, as he had relived her suffering, again and again, since Gerald and Gerard entered the world? Or would Alex mock his fear?
“I am not avoiding you.” Jason sighed. “I am protecting you.”
“From what?” With her brow a mass of furrows, she neared. “You make no sense.”
“I guard you from myself.” Resting his elbows to the blotter, he cradled his head. “As I cannot bear to lose you.”
“Do you mean that?” his wife inquired, in a small voice.
“Of course.” Jason lifted his chin and peered at her. “Every night, I see you writhing in agony, and I will not risk another pregnancy, after what you endured with our sons.”
“But I am recovered, and the process, though painful, is natural.” She rounded the desk, pushed him back in his chair, and slid to his lap. Framing his face, she kissed him. “And I want more children, so your position is unacceptable.”
“While I am glad you have healed, I may never forget what you braved.” In that instant, he clung to her. “What would I do without my beautiful Alex?”
Without warning, his wife grabbed his hair, wrenched hard, emitted something between a sob and a sigh, and came at him with the force of a brigade. At first, he tried to resist the temptation she presented, but when his bride shifted and situated her knees to either side of his thighs, he dug through the seemingly endless folds of heavy velvet in search of her bare bottom.
As their tongues twined, she moaned, and he deuced near shot his seed in his breeches. But when Alex rocked her hips, something inside Jason snapped.
“I want you.” She bit his lip and ground against his stony erection. “And you want me, so do not dare claim otherwise.”
“Not here.” He slipped a finger into her bodice and teased a pert nipple. “I would take you in our bed, as I prefer you naked and spread for my delectation, and I would lick every part of you.”
“Promises, promises.” With a charming giggle, that again brought him to the brink of sweet release, she stood. “I shall retire to our suite, where I will prepare myself for the much anticipated assault and await your company with baited breath. Do not make me linger too long, my naughty sailor.”
“Madame, I am your most devoted servant.” When she bent and squeezed his Jolly Roger, which had prepared a steely, one-gun salute, he enjoyed a spectacular view of her ample décolletage. “You have twenty minutes.”
“My dear Captain, I am ready for you.” She trailed her little pink tongue along his jawline, and he clenched his gut. Then she all ran from the study, and he could not help but laugh.
“Collingwood, you are in trouble.” Dropping his head back, he collapsed in his chair and gazed at the ceiling. Huffing a breath, he peered at the telltale bulge in his crotch and snorted. “This is all your fault, as you
are but moulding clay in her hands.”
After pouring a brandy, Jason walked to the window and studied the night sky. When the mantel clock signaled the hour, he downed the contents of his glass and set it on the desk.
Candlestick in his grasp, he exited his sanctuary, turned right in the hall, almost skipped through the foyer, and ascended the stairs. Instead of steering straight for the master suite and Alex’s arms, he veered in the opposite direction to check on his sons.
In the nursery, his heirs slept. As always pride surged in his chest when he looked on his boys and imagined the adventures they would share. With care, he tiptoed—yes, he bloody tiptoed from the chamber.
At last, he strolled into the sitting room and set the bolt on the doors, as he would brook no interruptions when he made love to his wife. To his surprise, the inner sanctum was dark and quiet.
Holding the candle high, he was nonplussed to discover the bed empty. A soft sniffle snared his trained ear, and he turned. “Alex, are you there?”
“Jason, help me.” It was then he noticed the shadowy slumped form on the floor, near the armoire, and a chill of terror shook his frame.
“What is it, darling?” After depositing the candlestick on her vanity, he knelt at her side and drew her into his arms. “What happened?”
“The pain is unbearable.” When he lifted her, she whimpered and clung to him as a frightened child. “Send for Dr. Studly, as I am gravely ill.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Alex burned, but hers was not the heat of unchecked passion. She ached, but her discomfit had nothing to do with unfulfilled desire.
Settled in the impressive four-poster in the master suite, she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth against the excruciating pain in her breasts. Intense fever had reduced her to a violent, shivering mess, but she tried to be brave, even as she sobbed.
“I dispatched Tom to fetch Dr. Studly.” Jason draped another blanket over her. “How do you feel, love?”
“I hate to bother him, at this hour, but I feel terrible.” She shook uncontrollably. “And I am frightened.”