A Season Beyond a Kiss

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  Olney was still a bit awed over the man’s willingness to expend such a large sum for only one wench when the man wasn’t normally satisfied unless he had a half dozen harlots catering to his prurient bent. “Yer pardon, Mr. Fridrich, but are ye sure ye wants ta deal wit’ a man ye can’t trust? Ol’ Coop may rook ye again if’n ye give him any more slack.”

  “It vill be his last chance tu make everyzhing right, at least for a time. If he cannot do it, he vill die. If he can, I vill give him zhe zhousand minus vhat he stole from me.” The German waved his good hand imperiously. “Summon Frye to mien quarters zhis afternoon. I vill discuss zhis matter vith him.”

  Olney touched his brow with two fingers and proceeded to bestow his own version of an old Arab salute upon his less than honorable benefactor. “Yer every wish is me command, O’ great one.”

  THE BIRMINGHAMS’ SHOPPING EXCURSION CAME TO AN end later that afternoon when Jeff noticed his wife’s fatigue. He hailed the landau and bade Thaddeus to take them on another tour of the city. This time the couple lent their complete attention to the areas through which they passed, Raelynn out of curiosity, Jeff by way of a qualified guide. Later he suggested dinner. “If you’re not too tired, my pet, I think you’d enjoy dining at an inn of which I’m especially fond. It’s just around the corner if you’d care to walk the rest of the way.”

  Raelynn felt greatly refreshed after a leisurely ride in the landau, and although she doubted that anything could surpass the fare normally served at Oakley, she was quite willing to go anywhere with her handsome husband. Being on his arm wasn’t quite as delightful as being in his bed, but it was nevertheless enjoyable. Thus she had no objection to his suggestion.

  “The evening is absolutely delightful, Jeffrey,” she said, clasping his arm against her breast as they meandered toward the inn. “If not for the fact that I’m simply ravenous, I’d be content to just walk around again.”

  “What precisely are you hungry for, madam?” Jeff queried with a meaningful twinkle in his eyes, brushing the encompassed limb provocatively against the swelling ripeness.

  Coyly Raelynn smiled up at him in the waning light and felt a tingling excitement sweep through her as his caress awakened her senses. “Everything!”

  He groaned in mock frustration. “Now you’ve done it, madam. I’ll now have my heart set on taking a private room here in the city and easing my hunger for you ere the hour is out.”

  Raelynn caressed his lapel with wifely familiarity. As the time approached for them to return home, she became increasingly mindful of the fact that for the first time since their wedding vows had been spoken, they would be sharing the same bed for the entire night. If the past morning could be counted as a fair indication of the ecstasy derived from the joining of two beings, she could believe they would be too busy playing together and making love to even think of sleeping. “Oh, but I’d rather go home and ensconce myself in yours. We could lock all the doors and stay in bed until we’re ready to find other diversions.” She glanced up coquettishly. “I have a nightgown you haven’t seen yet. I was saving it for our first night together.”

  The green eyes glowed above her own. “You tempt me beyond my ability to resist, madam.”

  “Well now, wha’ do we ‘ave here?” a voice slurred from nearby. As the couple looked around in surprise, Cooper Frye grinned drunkenly and tottered forward. “If’n I can believe me poor ol’ eyes, I’d be a-thinkin’ it’s me own bloomin’ ken, the Birmin’ams.”

  “I see you’re not above breaking your word, Frye,” Jeff rejoined testily. “According to our agreement, you were supposed to leave us alone.”

  The bewhiskered, slovenly garbed man veered sideways in an attempt to approach his niece, but her husband promptly whisked her to the far side of him, safely out of reach of the man. Only then did Jeff meet the drunkard’s dumbfounded stare. He did so with a noticeable lack of warmth.

  Oblivious to the reeking stench of whiskey that clung to him, Cooper blinked blearily as he contemplated the switch. “Wha’sa matter? Ye thinks ye’re too high an’ lordly ta be associatin’ wit’ the likes o’ me?”

  “You’re drunk, Frye,” Jeff chided jeeringly. “Go find some pigsty and sleep it off.”

  Of their own volition the older man’s eyes seemed to roll about in their sockets until he squeezed the lids tightly shut. Upon opening them again, he waggled his head sorrowfully and heaved a wavering sigh. “They’d only ferrets me out again an’ makes me pays up what I owes ’em.” Bowing his head, he mulled over his tragic situation in deep dejection. Then, upon issuing a loud belch, he rubbed his nose on a filthy sleeve and squinted up at Jeff. “Ye wouldn’t be averse ta lendin’ me a couple o’ hundred o’ yer Yankee coins, would ye, ol’ nephew o’ mine?”

  “I’m not your nephew,” Jeff corrected tersely. “And yes, I would be averse to lending you money. I’ve already given you more than you rightly deserved, but at the time, I could see no other way of getting Raelynn out of your clutches. In your eagerness to sell her, you made it evident that you don’t care a rip about anyone but yourself.”

  “Oh, but look wha’ I did for ye by givin’ ye me niece,” Frye argued and leered drunkenly at Jeff as if hoping such logic would motivate the younger man to be compassionate.

  “You didn’t give me Raelynn,” Jeff corrected pithily. “I bought her.”

  Turning to his niece, Frye tried with some difficulty to focus his gaze upon her. “Didn’t ol’ Coop do well by ye, girlie? There ye be, all decked out in yer finery. But are ye grateful enough ta come ta me aid?” He snorted, emitting more of the foul fumes. “Not e’en a wee bit, are ye.”

  “Move along, Frye,” Jeff urged caustically. “My wife wants nothing more to do with you.”

  “What’s this now? Me own sister’s chit, thinkin’ herself too good for ol’ Coop?” His glaring red eyes came back to Jeff, but keeping them there seemed to pose a problem for the man. “An’ ye’re no better. I give ye this waif ta do wit’ as ye please, but do ye offer me any thanks? Why, given a chance, ye’d likely give me the back o’ yer hand! ‘Tain’t right the way ye’re snubbin’ yer nose at me. Treatin’ me like filthy scum, ye are! An’ here I be, down on me luck.”

  “Perhaps in your present muddled state, Frye, you’ve forgotten the terms of our contract,” Jeff retorted crisply. “If so, I shall endeavor to refresh your memory. At least thirty witnesses can attest to the fact that you signed a contract in full knowledge of what you’d be giving up if you didn’t conform to the restrictions laid out in that agreement. Bother us again, and you’ll forfeit the seven hundred fifty dollars I gave you for my wife. And believe me, if you can’t repay me in full, you’ll find yourself working as a hired hand on my plantation, under the personal direction of my overseer, Frank Fergus. And you won’t be seeing a jug of whiskey until you’ve repaid me to the last dollar. Now, Frye, don’t you think you’d better leave us in peace before you have to work for a living?”

  The sot opened his mouth several times, emitting more of the foul fumes, but the ability to speak seemed to momentarily elude him. Finally he muttered, “Can’t hold on ta a bloomin’ farthin’, I can’t. Slips like water through me fingers. ‘Tis a bloody curse, livin’ from hand ta mouth as I do.” Woefully he clasped a shaking hand to his forehead as if totally ignorant of any blame he might have had in creating his predicament. “An’ here I be, a-fearin’ for me very life. That’ll slip away, too, just like water, if’n I don’t jumps when they say hop.”

  Unable to make any sense of the man’s mumbling, Jeff tucked his wife’s arm within his and guided her around the inebriated sponge. According to Raelynn, almost five months ago the man had appeared at the humble stoop of the cottage wherein she and her mother had taken refuge from the derisive scorn evoked by the treasonous charges laid against her father in London. Much to the astonishment of Evalina Barrett, Frye had made claims of being her brother, who had been lost at sea at a fairly young age. He had maintained that he had been rescued
by pirates who had forced him to serve them until a thrice of years ago when he had been sold to a Spaniard who had later lost both his purse and him in a wager against an Englishman who had finally sailed back to London. From the beginning, Raelynn had suffered doubts about the authenticity of the man’s tales. Like his wife, Jeff couldn’t imagine the relationship having much merit, for the two were as different as the east from the west.

  The couple progressed around the next corner and, from there, approached an inn situated in a private area and surrounded by well maintained gardens and live oaks. Its carefully clipped lawns conveyed an atmosphere of a private residence, but the delectable aromas wafting from the kitchens tempted many residents and passersby to make inquiries into the fare. Having often dined in the inn’s garden amid the delicate scents of roses, jasmine and an abundance of other flowers, Jeff was of a mind to think that Raelynn would enjoy the private areas as well as the delectable repast.

  The proprietor, a genial, round-faced man, hurried forward with a buoyant smile and greeted them enthusiastically as they stepped through the open doors of the entrance. “Oh, come in, come in, Mr. Birmingham. I was told you had brought your lovely wife to our fair city today, and on the chance you might be bringing her here, I took the liberty of saving your usual table on the veranda.”

  Jeff was hardly surprised by how swiftly rumors of their shopping excursion had made their way to this particular area of the city. Nor was he unappreciative of the results. “Nothing happens here in Charleston that you don’t hear about it within the hour, Bertrand. Your customers keep you well informed.”

  “There’s some truth to that,” their host jovially agreed as he led them through the elegantly furnished interior and out to a gracious portico veiled from the street by an artfully draped tangle of English ivy and wisteria vines. A table had been prepared for them behind a lattice trellis, affording as much concealment as the couple desired.

  “This is lovely,” Raelynn murmured in relief as she settled into the chair Bertrand had drawn out for her. Although she had enjoyed meeting Jeff’s friends and acquaintances, she had every hope of relishing the rest of the evening in his private company well secluded from prying eyes and those eager to gain an introduction.

  “Would you like to begin with a glass of your favorite wine, Mr. Birmingham?” the proprietor queried. “And perhaps a shore-crab bisque my chef boasts is his very best yet?”

  “In that case, we’d better sample some,” Jeff replied with a chuckle and turned to Raelynn as the man left. “Take my word for it, my dear. You’ve never had bisque as tasty as what you’re about to receive.”

  “I can hardly wait,” she assured him, smiling eagerly. She hadn’t realized just how hungry she had become. At the merest thought of food, her mouth began to water in anticipation.

  Cooling zephyrs freshened the air with the scent of the sea as it gently ruffled the edges of the white linen tablecloth. An ornate hurricane lamp sat atop the table, encompassing them in a softly glowing aura of light. Along the vine-bedecked porch, other secluded islands of radiance could be seen, all of them set in the midst of an almost magical evening filled with fireflies and the melodic plucking of a harp that drifted soothingly throughout the garden.

  Raelynn sighed contentedly as she glanced around. “What a wonderful place this is, Jeffrey. And what a delightful way to end our first shopping excursion to Charleston together. Thank you for bringing me here.”

  Jeff smiled, grateful their encounter with Cooper Frye hadn’t left his wife feeling distraught or shaken. She had definite cause to hate the man for what he had done to her mother, and yet, for the moment at least, it seemed as if she had been able to thrust Frye from her thoughts.

  As his eyes delved into those liquid pools of aqua blue, he was reminded of that moment wherein they had floated back to reality after making love. It had been apparent that she had never dreamt such ecstasy could be experienced by mere mortals. She had searched his face as if he had been some kind of god, yet he, too, had been amazed at the dazzling heights of rapturous joy to which he had soared while joined to her in the intimate rites of love. He could only lay the cause of such bliss to his good fortune in finding a woman who was the very essence of the one who had haunted his dreams for nearly half his life.

  In the past Jeff had never lent much consideration to the possibility that he might be lonely. After all, he had his brother, his sister-in-law, close friends whom he held in high esteem and more casual acquaintances who were wont to invite him out hunting and to a variety of other functions. Yet he was just beginning to suspect that for at least a decade his heart had been pining for a gentle, loving mate that romantics in poems and verses were wont to claim would eventually come along, the other half of him, so to speak, the one who was truly meant to complete the entity that they would become. During the day of shopping he had taken immeasurable delight in being with Raelynn and especially in being the recipient of her adoring smiles and softly cooing admiration. What he had experienced had been a far cry from the stilted reserve he had maintained while escorting her to social events during the past couple of weeks. Today her tender-eyed gazes and melodious voice had been enough to convince him that all was very, very right with his world.

  Raelynn watched the subtle play of emotion in the emerald orbs and tried in vain to read her husband’s thoughts. Finally she gave up her futile attempt and tilted her head wonderingly as she smiled at him. “What are you thinking about, Jeffrey?”

  “Just considering my recent blessings, my sweet,” he murmured, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I never thought I’d find the woman who haunted my dreams until you came into my life.” His thumb stroked the soft, inner curve of her palm as his eyes delved into hers. “Sometimes, when I let myself muse on the secrets of life, I begin to think that from the dawning of time we were meant for each other. Not too long ago I had foolishly made a mental list of all the requirements a wife would need to please me although I despaired of ever being content once I married. It wasn’t until you came into my life that I began to perceive some change of heart. Now I find myself thinking that you fulfill every facet of those wifely conditions I once mentally conjured, as well as some I didn’t even consider at the time.”

  Touched by his words and the subtle, intimate caress of his thumb, Raelynn could only admit her own reflections. “Some mornings, before the rising of the sun, I wake and think back on the direction my life has taken. At times, I wonder if the situation in which my mother and I found ourselves might have improved if we had stayed in England, if my father might have been absolved of any wrongdoing after his passing, or if we’d have continued to experience hardship. I was terribly grieved by the loss of my parents. For a time, I resented the sea voyage which had taken my mother’s life, yet, for all I know, she might have died from a broken heart had we stayed in England. If we had, I wouldn’t have met you, and I’d never have known what I was missing. Strange, but I now feel as if I’m where I belong . . . with you.”

  A hypnotic grin slowly traced across his handsome lips, bringing into play the enticingly handsome concavities in his cheeks. “I’m infinitely grateful you came into my life, madam, even if you nearly flattened me in the process.”

  Raelynn giggled at his teasing humor. “You don’t know how close you came to getting your face slapped when you swooped me up into your arms, sir. I was highly offended by your audacity to even touch me until I tasted the dust from the passing coach and realized you had very likely saved me from being trampled.”

  Jeff dipped his dark head forward. “My pleasure to be of service, Mrs. Birmingham.”

  “Mrs. Birmingham . . .” she repeated blissfully. “It sounds very nice coming from your lips . . . very possessive, in fact.” Her eyes glowed suggestively as she readjusted the white linen napkin in her lap. “Perhaps we should consider taking a room here in Charleston after all.”

  The green eyes twinkled with amusement as he shook his head in a slow, negative m
otion. “Not a chance, madam. You’ve aroused my curiosity about your nightgown, and I’d fight a whole army of foes rather than deny myself an opportunity to see you garbed in it or, more explicitly, the pleasure of removing it from your soft, luscious breasts and sweeping it down past your pale, sleek thighs. . . .”

  “Shhh.” Raelynn glanced around nervously. “Someone may hear you and think the worst of us.”

  His shining eyes melded with her. “We’re newly wedded, my sweet. Only a prig would consider us depraved.”

  A slight inclination of her head drew Jeff’s attention to the fact that their waiter was approaching with a tray bearing goblets of wine. Jeff winked at her above a tantalizing grin before he leaned back in his chair to await the man. Even so, his fingers remained entwined with hers.

  For the main course, they enjoyed breasts of duck in port sauce, wild rice dressing and a selection of vegetables. Although Raelynn found each dish a sumptuous delight, the bread pudding with rum sauce clearly won her vote for being the most delicious. Afterwards, demitasse cups of coffee were brought to the table before Jeff thought of ordering tea for his wife.

  “I’ll try the coffee,” she volunteered before he could summon their waiter back.

  Jeff arched a dark brow dubiously. “Are you sure? The coffee may keep you awake all night.”

  The corners of her mouth curved upward coquettishly. “Were you planning on letting me sleep?”

  “Drink your coffee, madam,” her husband urged. The taut depressions in his cheeks lent his grin a devilish charm that was irresistible, especially to a young wife who was already well on her way toward being totally captivated. Lifting his own cup, Jeff silently toasted her. “We have a long night ahead of us.”