by Lyn Horner
Realizing he must have come to make peace with her, Jessie struggled to put David from her thoughts. “It’s all right, Blake, I’m glad ye came,” she said, clutching the edge of the door.
He glanced up and down the hall. “May I come in? Please.”
She felt a stirring of alarm. His request was highly improper. But for heaven’s sake, this was Blake. He wouldn’t harm her. Even when angry the other night, he hadn’t laid a hand on her, putting to shame her unfounded fear. She couldn’t turn him away.
“All right, but I’ll have to leave the door open,” she replied, stepping back to let him in. “And ye can’t stay long. The others might be returning at any time.”
“Of course.” Walking in, he glanced around the room, no doubt finding it very plain compared to what he was used to.
“Would ye care to sit?” she invited, indicating her one straight-backed chair.
He shook his head. “I’m fine.” Again fingering the brim of his hat, he cleared his throat. “Jessie, I realize how deplorably I behaved the other night. My only excuse is that I’ve grown very fond of you over the past few weeks. But that doesn’t give me the right to question you the way I did. I’m truly sorry. Will you forgive me?” he asked with a pleading look.
Her eyes grew wet. “Oh, Blake, of course I forgive ye. And I’m sorry, too, for what happened.” She brushed at her overflowing tears.
Laying his hat on the chair, he stepped close and wrapped his arms around her. He patted her back soothingly. “There, there, none of that. Everything will be fine now.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and returned his embrace, comforted by his assurances, by the smell of starch and cologne, and the friendly warmth of him. She was so glad to have the old Blake back.
“Let’s forget the whole incident, shall we?” he murmured against her hair. When she sniffed and nodded, he held her close a moment longer, then transferred his hands to her shoulders and stepped back a bit. “Now, I have something to ask you,” he said in a solemn tone.
Blinking away the last of her tears, she gazed at him trustingly. “What is it, Blake?”
“As I’ve told you, my business here will soon be concluded. In fact, I expect to leave for New York in a few days.” He paused, watching her closely as his news sank in, causing her to swallow hard and bite her lip. He smiled. “But I don’t want to go alone. Will you come with me, Jessie? Will you be mine?”
“Saints preserve us!” She stared at him, hands clutching at the lapels of his coat. He was asking her to marry him!
He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head as if not quite believing her shock. “You never suspected I would ask?”
“No! How could I? I m-mean I didn’t think you . . . felt that way about me.”
His skeptical look disappeared in a flash of white teeth. “I should have spoken sooner. But frankly, it wasn’t until after our tiff the other night that I realized just how much I would hate losing you. And I’m in hopes you feel the same about me.”
David’s face flashed into her mind, and she guiltily dropped her gaze. Damn that green-eyed fiend! Would he forever stand between her and every other man?
“I’ll miss ye sorely, never doubt it, Blake. But . . . I’m only a poor Irish lass,” she said, looking up with a plea for him to see reason, hoping she wouldn’t be forced to hurt him. “Your family, your society friends, would never accept me.”
He burst out laughing, and she frowned in confusion. She didn’t see anything funny in what she’d said.
Controlling himself, he gave her a little shake. “My dear, you needn’t worry about such things.”
“But –”
“No, just listen. Let me explain a few things about myself.”
Feeling she owed him that much, she nodded.
“You believe I grew up with wealth because that’s what I’ve led you to believe. The truth is I grew up in a tenement in one of the worst parts of New York City.” When she widened her eyes in shock, he grinned. “You see, I’m what you might call a self-made man. I dragged myself up out of the gutter and made a place for myself among the society bluebloods you just mentioned. I taught myself how to speak, dress and act like them. In the process I also came to live quite well, and those high and mighty fools have no idea how I . . . .”
Checking his bitter sounding outburst, he rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “The point is, I can do the same for you if you’ll let me.”
Jessie thought she must be as big a fool as all those bluebloods. He’d certainly pulled the wool over her eyes. “You’re a good actor, Blake. I never would have guessed ye aren’t exactly what ye seem.”
Releasing her, he grinned and smoothed his mustache. “I do my best. So, do you accept my offer? Will you come with me?”
“I . . . I need to think,” she said, turning away.
“Yes, of course,” he said tersely.
She walked over to the window, cold hands tightly clasped, and stared through the glass pane, not seeing a thing. Sighing, she closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Her headache had returned.
For a moment she wondered if she could possibly say yes to Blake. While she didn’t love him in the passionate way she would like to, she did care for him. Could she bring herself to marry him for companionship, for the creature comforts he offered? Was she willing to lie to him, to pretend she did love him? No, and no again. She couldn’t do that to him or herself.
Again, she saw David’s face. If he were the one asking her to marry him . . . but he never would. And even if he did, just because his kisses set her on fire did not mean she was fool enough to tie herself to a man who treated her with no concern for her feelings.
She recalled Blake’s jealous suspicions about her and David, and it struck her as even more unbelievable that he would propose to her. Had he decided he loved her enough to overlook his suspicions? He hadn’t actually used the word love. He’d said he was “very fond” of her. Did it matter? She knew what her answer must be. It was the telling she had no stomach for.
Reluctantly, Jessie turned to face him. He stood in the same spot, watching her, a hopeful smile on his face. It faded when she met his eyes.
“Blake, I thank ye most sincerely for your offer, but I . . . I can’t accept.”
He shook his head incredulously. “You can’t mean that.”
“Aye, I’m afraid I do.” Seeing his expression harden, her gaze fled before the anger in his eyes.
“Have you lost your senses? Do you know what you’re turning down? Aside from myself, that is. You obviously don’t care about me!”
“That’s not true!” she denied, wounded by his cutting words. “I do care about ye, very much. But I don’t –”
“Then come with me! I’ll give you everything you could ever want. Clothes, furs, jewels!” Walking toward her, he coaxed, “You love the theater, don’t you? I’ll take you there every night. We’ll dine at the finest restaurants and mix with the elite of society. All you need do is nod your head.”
By now he stood directly in front of her. Feeling trapped, Jessie swallowed hard and stared at the gold stickpin in his russet tie. The glittering picture he painted didn’t alter her reasons for turning him down.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to meet his eyes. “Blake, all of those things sound grand. But I . . . I’m sorry to say I don’t love ye. ’Twouldn’t be fair to either of us if I were to accept your proposal.”
For a moment, his face looked totally blank. Then his handsome features twisted with fury. “Just who do you love as you call it, Jessie, your soldier friend?” he sneered. “Do you melt in his arms, or are you the block of ice that you are in mine?” At her shocked gasp, he laughed nastily. “Oh yes, I realized you were only pretending to feel something whenever I kissed you, my dear.”
She bent her head and, telling herself to make allowances for him because she had hurt him, attempted to explain. “Blake, I never meant to –”
“Just as I sensed you were kee
ping something a secret,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Although I never would have guessed it was a man until I saw you with Taylor.” His eyes narrowed into baleful slits. “You played me for a fool with your innocent act. And how could I resist when you seemed so perfect – beautiful, spirited, and all alone except for that worthless brother of yours. Easy pickings.”
Shocked to her core by his malicious words, Jessie gave a choked cry. It obviously pleased him because he bared his teeth in a feral grin.
“I didn’t press you, though, because I was after the prize at the end of the game. Now I see what an idiot I was. All the while I was dancing attendance upon you, acting the perfect gentleman, coaxing you to trust me, you were whoring with Taylor behind my back.”
“No! That’s not true!” she cried, appalled by his accusation, yet guiltily knowing it might have been true, given more time that evening in the parlor with David.
Blake lifted one eyebrow and jeered, “Such a passionate denial. But I saw the way he looked at you, as if he could hardly keep his hands off you. I knew then that there was something between you, and your behavior afterward confirmed it.”
Jessie’s shock gave way to outrage. Planting her hands on her hips, she fired back, “I don’t give a fig what ye saw or think ye saw, Blake Stanton! I’ll not stand here and be insulted by you any longer! And to think I actually considered, even for a moment, accepting your proposal and marrying you.”
“Marry!” He looked her up and down disdainfully. “I would never marry a common, garden variety trollop like you. But I’m certain you would have made a delightful mistress, Jessie. Until I tired of you.”
Horrified, she shook her pounding head, feeling sick with humiliation and loathing. How could she have been so deceived by this fiendish, grinning trickster who spoke so casually of how he would have used her? Why, oh why hadn’t she heeded Ivar Andersen’s warnings? He’d sensed Blake Stanton’s true nature all along, but she’d been too stubborn to listen. Heaven help her, she’d even tried to deny what her own eyes and ears had told her two nights ago.
Her temper reached the boiling point. Clenching her fists, she glared into his wicked eyes. If they were flame-orange instead of hazel, she would think him the madman from her water vision. “Animal! Swine!” she hissed. “You belong in the gutter ye crawled out of!”
His hand rose with lightning speed, striking her cheek a brutal blow, not with his open palm, but with his fist. Crying out, she reeled against the corner of the window frame. Her knees buckled and she would have fallen, but he caught her arms and jerked her upright. Her surroundings seemed to spin. Trying to focus on Blake’s cold, hard face, she saw double and shivered to think there could be two such monsters.
“I would advise you to curb your tongue, Jessie,” he growled in her ringing ears. “I won’t put up with any more name calling. Do you hear?” When she didn’t answer – because she couldn’t – he gave her a bone jarring shake. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes!” she choked out. The spinning in her head slowly subsided, but the left side of her face was on fire and she tasted blood from the torn inside of her cheek. Because of him!
Hatred swept through her like a flash fire, and she defiantly ignored his warning. “Damn your black heart! Let me go, ye bastard!” Pushing at his chest, she tried to break free, but his hands were like iron manacles cutting into her arms.
He cuffed her bruised cheek again, just a light slap this time, but enough to make her cry out in pain again. He smiled cruelly as unwanted tears welled up in her eyes.
“Now, just to confirm what I already know, my little firebrand, you’re going to tell me the truth about you and your captain,” he said softly, menacingly. “You’ve lain with him, haven’t you.”
Jessie set her teeth, refusing to answer yes or no, and glared her hatred at him. Laughing, Blake released one of her arms, grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. She couldn’t smother an agonized cry.
“Haven’t you, Jessie?” he snarled. When she clawed wildly at his torturing hand, he gave her hair another, harder yank.
Feeling as if her scalp was about to be torn off, she gave in. “No, never, I swear! Pl-please, stop!”
He snorted in derision, thin lips slanting cruelly, and eased the painful pressure just a bit. “I like hearing you beg, Jessie. But since you insist you’re not the slut I believe you to be, I think it’s only fair that I give you a chance to prove it, don’t you?”
Tears streamed down Jessie’s cheeks. She was ashamed of herself for crying and pleading with him, but his last comment made her breath catch in her throat. She stared at him, her blood running cold. “No!”
He gave a nasal laugh that sounded almost like the hiss of a snake. “Oh, yes, I believe I’ve more than earned a few moments in your bed, my pet. And if you should happen to be telling the truth, why, who knows? I might yet overlook your lies and take you back east with me.”
“No!” Jessie gasped again, wishing with all her heart that David would magically appear and rescue her from this demented fiend as he had from Wolf Gerard. But he wasn’t going to save her this time. She had only herself to count on.
Fear and hatred merged into a blind determination to resist no matter what. Ignoring the pain from her tortured scalp, she shrieked furiously and clawed Blake’s cheek with her free hand.
He bellowed in pain and jerked his head away, then released her hair and grabbed her hand before she could do anymore damage. Viciously wrenching her arms back, he trapped both hands behind her and roared, “You’ll pay for that, you goddamned bitch!”
Pleased to see four bloody furrows down his cheek, she glared back at him, teeth bared. “You’ll not have an easy time of it, ye black-hearted devil! Upon me mother’s grave, I swear I’ll fight ye tooth and nail!”
“Such fire, Jessie!” he scoffed. “But then, I always knew you were a fighter. Not that I don’t appreciate your other charms, of course.” Dipping his eyes to her heaving breasts, he laughed at her snarl of outrage.
“Believe me, it hasn’t been easy restraining myself all these weeks. But, you see, I’d hoped to conduct your initiation at leisure, in more suitable surroundings. Alas, that won’t be possible now, so I’ll simply have to make do. If I tie your hands and feet to the bed posts you shouldn’t give me too much trouble.” Grinning savagely at the fear she couldn’t hide, he added, “Nor do I think you’ll do much screaming with a rag stuffed in your mouth, do you, my pet?”
Jessie tried to scream now, but he clamped a hard, silencing hand over her mouth. When she tried to bite him, he pressed harder, smashing her lips against her teeth, making her whimper. In desperation, she hooked one foot around the protruding leg of the heavy bureau standing to her right, beside the window. When Blake attempted to drag her toward the bed, she strained away from him with all her might. She managed to resist for a few seconds, but then he cursed furiously and jerked her forward, wrenching her foot from its tenuous hold.
The sudden shift caused her to lose balance and fall against him. He stumbled and lost his footing, yelping in surprise as he toppled backward, taking Jessie down with him. Her cry of alarm ended with a sharp explosion of breath when she landed on top of him.
It took her a few seconds to realize his hands had fallen away from her. Then she quickly rolled off of him. Pushing unsteadily to her knees, she saw that his eyes were closed and, except for the rise and fall of his chest, he wasn’t moving. When she noticed the blood trickling from his temple, past his ear, she caught her breath, and her gaze darted to the footboard of the bed, standing right next to him. He must have struck his head when they fell, knocking himself unconscious.
Her own head pounded, and the left side of her face throbbed with pain. Gingerly touching her cheek, she found it already swollen; soon, it would be black and blue. Probing with her tongue, she discovered a raw gash on the inside of her cheek, where her teeth had cut into it when Blake hit her.
He groaned, and Jessie screamed
. He was coming to; she had to get away!
Fighting with her tangled skirts, she lurched to her feet and staggered to the open doorway. She was almost through it when she heard Blake curse. Glancing back, she saw him clap a hand to his forehead and sit up.
She ran for the stairs, heart drumming with fear.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“You can’t get away from me, Jessie!” Blake shouted.
Jessie started down the stairs with her heart in her throat. When she was halfway down, she heard his footfalls in the upper hall. Throwing a terrified glance over her shoulder, she slipped and nearly fell. She saved herself by grabbing at the railing, but it cost her precious seconds. The back of her neck prickled, making her turn her head to look up again. Blake stood at the top of the stairs, eyes glittering with hate.
“I’ll kill you for this,” he gritted.
Oh God, he would do it! Picking up her skirts, she flew down the last few stairs, hearing him behind her. She dashed across the foyer, intent on making it out the door before he caught up with her. Once outside, she would scream for help. Surely someone would come to her aid. They must!
Nearly to the door, she gasped when a figure darkened the oval window from the outside. Hearing women’s voices, she stopped short as the door swung open.
“I know I locked this door,” said Eleanor Wilson, stepping inside. “If that little tart went off and . . . .” Coming face to face with Jessie, she shrieked, drawing startled cries from Minerva Novak and the other borders, who stood grouped on the porch
“Thank God!” Jessie whispered, with a hand over her thumping heart. She didn’t even mind Mrs. Wilson calling her a tart.
“Son of a bitch!” Blake growled, somewhere behind her.
Mrs. Wilson shrieked louder, and Minerva gasped as she squeezed inside past her. The other women remained clustered outside as Jessie whirled to face Blake. He stood two steps up from the bottom of the staircase, his face red with rage. A ribbon of blood trickled down the side of his head onto the collar of his shirt. Meeting his venomous gaze, she caught her breath and backed up, nearly treading on her landlady’s toes.