Relenting with a chuckle, Jeff brushed the back of his arm teasingly across her soft bosom before his hand left hers and clasped the side of her far thigh. “All right, madam, stop your fretting. I’ll try to refrain from frightening you overmuch. From now on, I’ll just have to ignore those two culprits while you’re with me.”
“And what will you do when I’m not?” Raelynn asked and then gently scoffed. “In the short time I’ve known you, Jeffrey Birmingham, I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re a force to be reckoned with. I just can’t believe you could blandly ignore the presence of those two men even when I’m with you. I sense that you can be quite tenacious when you get your dander up. Indeed, the Corsair pirates would be hard-pressed to deal with you should they ever capture one of your ships and ransom it for booty as they’ve recently been doing to other American ships. No doubt, you’d sail off to confront them with cannons blazing and cutlass at the ready in much the same fighting spirit as you exhibited during my rescue.”
Jeff laughed in amusement at such a farfetched notion and shook his head. “That sounds like something my brother would do, my pet, not me.”
“I perceive that you and Brandon are more alike than either of you realize, Jeffrey.”
“How can you say that, madam?” her husband challenged, tossing a grin over his shoulder. “You’ve known us hardly more than a fortnight.”
“Nevertheless, when Dr. Clarence drew me out of Gustav’s warehouse that night and I realized what you were planning to do with the aid of Brandon and your friends, I came to the conclusion that you and your brother were much in accord. At the time, you both seemed eager to launch the attack against those river rats in spite of the odds against you and the others who were with you. Even considering all the men Gustav has in his employ and his well-stocked arsenal, he really didn’t have a chance against the lot of you.”
“Gustav deserved everything we managed to do to him, Raelynn,” Jeff stated with conviction. “In my estimation it wasn’t nearly enough.”
“I agree, sir, but it’s not very heartening for a wife to realize that her husband enjoys a battle as much as a well-versed cavalier.”
Jeff’s eyebrows flicked upward briefly as he offered a different opinion of himself. “I’ve always considered myself a rather peaceable sort.”
When he turned his head to look at her, Raelynn had a chance to search his face and the sparkling green eyes. Lifting a hand, she lovingly stroked her fingers along his cheek, tracing one of the handsome grooves that always appeared whenever he smiled. “Aye, you truly seem to be that, Jeffrey Birmingham . . . at least until you’re riled.”
“I can’t deny that I was enraged by your abduction, my sweet. It was my most earnest desire to negate the possibility of another such occurrence. You can hardly blame me for making an attempt.”
“You mistake me, Jeffrey. I’m not reproaching you for leading an attack on Gustav’s warehouse, only saying that it’s a little frightening for a wife to discover that underneath her husband’s debonair charm there beats a heart of a warrior.”
Jeff was intrigued by the tempting softness of his wife’s lips and lowered his head to hers, prompting Raelynn to clasp his arm tightly against her bosom. Completely engrossed in consuming the honeyed sweetness of her mouth, he probed its depths with the fiery brand of his tongue, at first gently and then with quickening fervor.
Raelynn all but groaned in disappointment as he drew away. “You shouldn’t kiss me like that when there’s no privacy to be had nor a bed conveniently near. You must be aware by now what your kisses do to me.”
Jeff leered at her. “I know of a nice hostelry where we might linger for an hour or two.”
“You’re only teasing me,” she fussed, dimpling prettily.
His broad shoulders lifted briefly. “Even if I were, the notion is tempting enough for us to consider. Don’t you agree, madam?”
Raelynn rolled her eyes, thinking of the outlandish rumors they’d likely garner from such an interlude. “Just imagine the stares we’d receive if we checked out an hour or so after registering. The whole town would be abuzz.”
“Aye, but think how well we’d enliven the gossips’ rumors for a day or two, my sweet. They’d be ever so grateful.”
“No doubt, but I prefer to be a bit more discreet.”
Jeff heaved an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. “As you will, madam.”
Raelynn perched her chin upon his shoulder, admiring his aristocratic profile. “Would you be at all averse if I were to touch you now?”
His brows gathered in bemusement as he scanned her fine visage. “In what manner?”
Her eyes dipped to his lap, marking the area she was most interested in exploring. “In a wifely manner, sir.”
Jeff almost gasped at the sudden thrill her request elicited. After enduring a lengthy celibacy, he had begun to fear that his wife wasn’t nearly as appreciative of the delights to be found in a marriage bed as he had first hoped. Since their morning activities, however, he had been greatly heartened. Her latest petition brightened his expectations even more. Sweeping off his top hat, he held it protectively over his lap as he captured her hand within his and molded it around the manly protrusion. “Does this attest to my eagerness, madam?”
Cooing softly in admiration, she inspected him through the closely fitting garment. “Your trousers leave much to the imagination.”
Lifting his brow, he eyed her askance. “You can unfasten them as well as I, my pet. I give you leave to do so.”
She peered up at him, but could read nothing in his handsome profile from the angle at which she sat and finally tilted her head inquisitively. “Would it unsettle you if I were to be so bold when the carriage is passing through the middle of town?”
“You’d disappoint me if you weren’t.”
Raelynn grinned like a child who had just been given a new toy. The fact that he welcomed her overtures assured her that she hadn’t shattered any rigid marital standard. What they did between them was suitable as long as they were both in accord. “I’ll see what I can do about working you free, sir.” As she sought to pry the side placket open, she was led to tease, “You know, Jeffrey, you’re not making this any easier.”
Tilting the topper upward, Jeff considered the telltale bulge beneath the costly trousers. “Such are the hazards of being a wife, my dear. You can hardly expect me to sit here unaffected when you’re trying to get into my underwear. As you can see, I’m eagerly anticipating your attention.”
She finally plucked free a packet, and soon her small hand was slipping inside to make her claim upon the warm flesh, snatching Jeff’s breath inwardly for a blissful moment. During the ensuing inspection, he strove hard to remember to breathe.
It gave Raelynn a strange sense of wifely satisfaction to be able to elicit the molding of his male flesh. When she could affect a man of his maturity and experience in such a way, she didn’t feel nearly so self-conscious about her naiveté or her youth. Indeed, she found it immensely pleasing to see just how completely absorbed her husband became while relishing her caresses, for he sat as one completely enthralled, basking in the titillation as if it had been years instead of hours since he had had the like. It came as something of a surprise, but she realized that she found it just as thrilling to please him as it was for her to be on the receiving end of his rousing stimulations. Having been keenly attentive to his instructions earlier that morning, she tested her newly learned knowledge with an enthusiasm that marked her own growing interest in their mutual familiarity.
Caught up in the sensual headiness of his wife’s caresses, it was a long moment before it dawned on Jeff that they were approaching their destination. Clearing the thickness from his throat, he leaned forward and opened the tiny door behind the driver’s seat.
“Thaddeus, forget about the couturier’s shop for the moment. Take us on a short tour of the city instead. I’ll tell you when we want to come back to Mr. Farrell’s.”
3
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A HALF HOUR LATER, JEFF STEPPED DOWN FROM the landau with all the smiling aplomb of a monk and faced his wife with glowing eyes as she moved near the door. They exchanged secret smiles as his fingers squeezed hers meaningfully. Handing her down, he drew her arm through his and escorted her into the three-storied building, which, he explained as they entered, his friend had purchased five years earlier.
According to him, Farrell Ives had reserved the upper two floors of the structure as his own private living quarters, leaving the ground level to be utilized solely for his haute couture. As Jeff further expounded, Farrell normally employed eight people, the most important being a young widow, Elizabeth Dalton, who was solely responsible for making the patterns for the new designs and supervising the seamstresses. She assisted her employer in managing the shop and had many other duties that verified her importance.
As a rule, Ives’s Couture staffed six other seamstresses and a strapping youth who took care of the cleaning chores when he wasn’t fetching and toting. In spite of the limited personnel, the shop supplied most of the haut monde and style-conscious ladies in the Charleston area with stunning wardrobes for the changing seasons as well as modish frocks and lavish gowns any time of the year. Dainty accouterments were also readily available on the premises and didn’t need to be ordered unless a customer had something specific or extravagant in mind.
Jeff ushered Raelynn to a cozily furnished sitting area located near the entrance of a pair of spacious hallways. Long tables, laden with beautiful fabrics in different textures, colors, patterns, and weight, were angled against the walls of both. The smaller corridor provided offices near the front for the employer and his assistant. Behind these were cubicles for fittings. Private sewing rooms for the seamstresses divided the larger hall, at the end of which was a large window of small-paned glass that framed a carefully tended garden. A nearby passageway led to the back door and, off to the side, a stairway supplied access to the upper stories.
Through the doors of the nearest two seamstresses’ rooms, Raelynn espied two dummy forms bedecked in fashionable gowns of breathtaking beauty, readily evidencing the talent of the couturier. At the entrance of the last cubicle, a tall, dark-haired woman, of about a score and five, stood talking with its occupant who remained hidden from view. Upon espying the new arrivals, the brunette quickly made her excuses and, with an ebullient smile, hastened forward to greet them.
“Mr. Birmingham, how good it is to see you again,” she averred in mellifluous tones. Her dark eyes fairly glowed with a brilliance that matched her smile. But then, with an openly gracious manner and a beauty charmingly enhanced by a pale yellow empire gown, she truly seemed imbued with a radiance of her own.
“Elizabeth, you’re looking as enchanting as always,” Jeff declared, with debonair flair sweeping his hat before his chest and clicking his heels in a concise bow. His own broad grin evidenced his unquenchable pride as he slipped a hand behind his wife’s back and made the introductions. “May I present my bride, Raelynn. My dear, this is Mrs. Elizabeth Dalton. She manages the shop for Farrell with the greatest of ease.”
At such praise, Elizabeth softly hooted and banished his claims with a graceful wave of a slender hand before facing Raelynn. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you, Mrs. Birmingham. Mr. Ives has literally been singing your praises ever since the happening outside our shop.”
Raelynn’s pained smile evidenced her chagrin. “Oh, dear, I was in hopes that no one would remember that, but I suppose my expectations were a bit farfetched, considering the number of people who collected around us that day.”
Elizabeth tossed her head in amusement and laughed. “When there’s a member of the Birmingham clan involved, my dear, you can be fairly certain that he’ll reap a goodly share of attention from Charlestonians. Still, when a lady has been bequeathed with your fine looks, Mrs. Birmingham, you needn’t bear the name of a prominent family to gain everyone’s notice. ‘Twill surely be yours wherever you go.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dalton,” Raelynn replied with a gracious smile. “You’re very kind indeed. And may I say how pleased I am to finally be visiting Mr. Ives’s shop.” The blue-green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she admired the elegant interior and, with a womanly appreciation for beautiful things, the bolts of costly materials displayed on the nearby tables. “This definitely looks like a woman’s paradise.”
Warm laughter spilled melodiously from the dressmaker’s lips. “Oh, it is, absolutely, but please, Mrs. Birmingham, do call me Elizabeth. I’d feel especially honored.”
“The pleasure is mine, Elizabeth,” Raelynn warbled. “And I’d be equally gratified if you’d favor me by addressing me by my given name.”
Elizabeth grimaced ever so slightly. “You have a beautiful name, to be sure, but if you wouldn’t mind, while we’re here in the shop, I should use the more formal address for the sake of the other employees. Mr. Ives insists that his seamstresses show proper respect to his customers, and it makes it easier for them if I abide by that standard as well, at least while I’m here.” She chuckled as she added, “He even has them calling me Mrs. Dalton, a formality he considers needful for maintaining discipline in the ranks. If I didn’t know better, I’d be inclined to think he was once a seafaring captain. He certainly runs a tight ship here.”
Jeff chortled at such a farfetched notion. “I’m afraid your employer would be hopelessly lost with a compass and a sextant, Elizabeth. He’s too much of a landlubber.”
The three joined in a moment of mirth before the older woman swept sparkling eyes down the length of Raelynn’s gown. It had been among the prettiest day dresses that Ives’s Couture had recently sold, and she was delighted to see it being worn by such a fetching lady. “Mr. Ives’s business will surely reap a wealth of benefits once the city’s populace catch a glimpse of you bedecked in his fashions, Mrs. Birmingham. In praising you, Mr. Ives went so far as to claim that you were just as beautiful as your sister-in-law. I was sure his assertions were exaggerated until today.”
Raelynn’s radiant cheeks evidenced her delight over the woman’s compliment. “Heather is so gorgeous that I must accept it as a tremendous honor to be compared to her.”
“As well you should, Mrs. Birmingham,” Elizabeth readily rejoined. “I can’t imagine another lady in the area as attractive as the pair of you.”
Raelynn tilted her head thoughtfully as she considered the brunette. Obviously the woman had reservations about her own beauty, but Raelynn was more than willing to enlighten her. “Have you taken a look at yourself in a mirror lately, Elizabeth?”
The other clasped a hand to her cheek in sudden dismay. “Oh, dear, do I have a smudge or something on my face?”
“No, of course not,” Raelynn reassured her with brimming amusement, totally taken with the woman’s lack of vanity. Elizabeth Dalton was a slender, dark-eyed beauty who could definitely hold her own in the realm of feminine pulchritude. “My question was meant merely as a tribute to your own exceptional comeliness, nothing more.”
Realizing her blunder, Elizabeth flushed a deep shade of crimson, but promptly shook her head, denying the possibility that she could compare with such a winsome pair as the Birmingham women. “Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. Birmingham, but you just don’t know how beautiful you are. I could never hold a candle to either you or your sister-in-law.”
Raelynn reached out and gently laid a hand upon the other woman’s arm. “If I were you, Elizabeth, I wouldn’t place any valuable tokens wagering on that assumption. There’s no question you’d lose.”
Jeff offered his wife support in that premise. “Raelynn isn’t just being kind, Elizabeth,” he assured the woman. “She’s being truthful. In fact, my advice to you would be to place your bets on the opposite end of that spectrum if it comes down to such a wager. You’d clearly come out a winner.”
Elizabeth waved a slender hand before her face, making much of her attempt to cool her burning cheeks. “Take pity on me, both of you,” she pl
eaded with an effervescent laugh. “You’re making me blush.”
Raelynn came readily to the woman’s defense by turning the subject elsewhere. “Since being bestowed a fair sampling of what your seamstresses make here in the shop, I haven’t ceased to admire what was purchased for me. As recently as a year ago, I enjoyed designing many of my own clothes. Of course, that was while my father was still alive and we were able to afford far better clothes than the gown I was wearing the day Jeff rescued me from my uncle. My couturier in London was gracious enough to translate my sketches into very fine examples of what I had created. When my family fell on hard times, he paid me for my designs and boldly claimed them as his own to his customers. I really didn’t mind since he kept raising my fee to keep me placated, but I’m afraid I’d be hard-pressed to fashion clothes as sumptuous as the ones I’ve recently been wearing. I understand that Mr. Ives actually made the selections when Jeffrey sent Mrs. Brewster over here to buy me clothes. The milliner was simply gushing over Mr. Ives’s talents when she came back to her shop. She said she had never realized before that day that such a talented entrepreneur was residing right across the street from her.”
Amusement tugged at the corners of Elizabeth’s lips. “Yes, Mrs. Brewster did seem in a rare dither here that day. I don’t think she had ever actually taken a close look at Mr. Ives before she came. He definitely has a way of awing some women when they see him face to face. But in regards to your clothing, Mrs. Birmingham, Mr. Ives would never have left another to choose your gowns and other accouterments considering that your husband and he are such close friends. Yet I must be honest. There weren’t that many garments on hand at the time, so it was a fairly simple task to make the selections.”
The woman continued with a casual shrug. “Usually we make only what our customers order, but an unusual situation developed after the garments were finished. I shan’t mention any names lest I embarrass the fine people involved, but the young lady for whom the gowns were originally made was left bereft of the funds to pay for them by an unfortunate incident. It seems that her brother had laid out the total sum of their recent inheritance on a race in which a stallion he had raised from a colt would run against one other horse. The stallion was indeed very fast. I saw the black race once myself. The brother had high hopes of doubling their combined fortune when he was lured on by the challenges of another who seemed a novice on the subject of fine steeds. Unfortunately the brother’s stallion was found dead in the stall the morning of the race, allowing Mr. Fridrich, the owner of the second horse, to win the purse without his entry even running. Mr. Ives saw no need to burden the girl any more than she was already over the loss of her wealth by demanding payment. If there was a culprit in this tale, then both Mr. Ives and I share the belief that Mr. Fridrich’s hired henchmen poisoned her brother’s horse. Frankly, I think the man should be horsewhipped for what he did.”
A Season Beyond a Kiss Page 5