“Fortuitous indeed,” he agreed, putting a hand gently against her cheek and placing his lips against hers.
Her eyes fluttered closed and her lips trembled against his. He increased the pressure, pulling her tightly against him.
His lips were a delicious combination of soft and insistent as they began to move against hers.
She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her arms went around his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair.
He groaned and, putting an arm beneath her knees to pick her up, carried her to the settee. He sat, settling her on his lap, his lips never leaving hers.
His breath against her lips as he kissed the edge of her mouth was nearly her undoing.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, edging back just enough to gaze at her in the pale candlelight.
They sat, clinging to each other as the seconds passed. Claire wanted the moment to never end.
She whimpered as he picked her up and carried her across the hall to her bed. He untied one shoe and slipped it off her foot, then untied the other and let it drop to the floor.
He helped her under the blankets and brought the quilt to her chin.
“Don’t go,” she whispered. It seemed to be all he needed. He went around to the other side of the bed, crawled beneath the quilt and snuggled against her back.
“Get some sleep, my love,” he said, nestling his cheek against hers.
The words were barely spoken before she did indeed fall into a deep slumber.
Jeffrey lay with his arms wrapped around Claire. Oh, how he wanted her.
But Claire was a lady and he knew he had to convince her to marry him before making her his in every way.
The sooner he could get her to Chene Ruelle, the sooner he could marry her. But he wanted his sister there and his grandfather. They would be shocked, first of all, that he was alive, and second, that he would be bringing a wife.
He scowled at the thought. They would know that he had defected. He may not even be welcome at his family home. At the very least, it may take some time to regain their trust.
As he lay there with Claire, pondering their future, it occurred to him how long it would take to get her home and finally marry her.
Truth be told, he didn’t think he could tolerate the wait.
As she slept, he ran his hand along the smooth skin of her cheek.
No, he decided, there was no reason to wait.
Perhaps Gramps would be willing to delay their trip for a day if he knew the reason why. Tomorrow, he had to find two horses and a new dress for Claire.
Claire woke with the sun in her eyes. Where am I?
As she sat up, shielding her eyes from the sun, she realized she was still in her day clothes… and she was only halfway dressed. Putting her feet on the cool wood floor, she flushed with remembering how Jeffrey had taken off her shoes… among other things.
She went to the washbowl and splashing water on her face, examined her flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
Now, she wanted…more.
Would he think less of her for showing such wild abandon? Would he think her wanton?
She’d fallen asleep in his arms. And now he was gone. Had he lost interest in her now that she’d allow him to hold her?
She dried her face and smiled secretly to herself. Even after all the books she’d read about love, now… now she understood the thing that bound a man and a woman together. The thing that took love to another level.
As she began the task of re-buttoning the ugly brown dress that Hazel had given her, she longed for something pretty to wear. Something that Jeffrey would like.
After putting on her shoes, she combed her hair. She needed a bath and a dress. Simple things, really, but with this war going on, it was nearly impossible to get food, much less something decent to wear.
Expecting to see Jeffrey when she went downstairs, Claire was surprised to see Grandpa—alone.
Stopping at the door to the kitchen, she looked around, then felt Grandpa’s perusal. Which only made her flush more.
“Aunt Becky’s out back,” he said, “but she made breakfast.”
Claire’s stomach growled. She filled a plate and sat down across from her grandfather.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
She nearly choked. And the flush on her cheeks felt like a sunburn. She shrugged. “I slept well enough.” Though she knew she was lying. She had slept like a baby.
“That’s good,” he said.
Despite her discomfort, she was starved. She bit into a biscuit. Closed her eyes as she chewed. Only in these past few days had she come to appreciate good food. Hardtack was the worst thing she had ever tried to eat.
“Jeffrey is smitten with you,” he said.
Claire opened her eyes and looked at him. “I don’t know…” she said, not sure what he was referring to. Did he know about last night?
She felt her face flush again.
“He was up before dawn this morning. Said something about going to find horses and a dress.”
“A dress? A dress for what?”
Grandpa shrugged. “A dress for you.”
Claire glanced down at the ugly brown dress. As much as she would like a new dress, it was disconcerting to think that Jeffrey thought so too.
“Do you love him?” he asked.
Claire wasn’t ready to share these new emotions. Not even with her grandfather. She bit into a strip of bacon and her mind raced with how to avoid this conversation. “I don’t know,” she said.
Grandpa leaned back. “That’s unfortunate,” he said. “If you loved him, you would know.”
“I haven’t known him all that long.”
“It doesn’t take all that long to fall in love, Kitten.” He stood up and turned to walk away.
Claire didn’t answer. She had lost her appetite.
Then he turned back, a wistful expression on his face. “Then sometimes love comes softly. It can take hold of a person and turn their life upside down. Jeffrey is a good catch. If you care for him now, it may take some time to let that affection grow into something… special.” He turned then, and walked outside.
Claire sat staring after him. Was he talking about himself? Had he experienced that with her grandmother?
Claire was in love with Jeffrey. She had no doubt of that in her mind. She would share that when the time was right.
There was one thing Jeffrey hadn’t calculated into his plan for his future with Claire—Grandpa.
Grandpa was up before Jeffrey. Did the man never sleep?
“I’m gonna head into town to see if I can buy a couple more horses for our trip.”
“I doubt you’ll find any.”
“I have to try. That’s not a trip I want to make on foot again.”
“You’re not accustomed to not having a horse.”
Jeffrey scoffed. In another lifetime, that had certainly been true. But since losing his horse and having to fight… and travel on foot, that had changed.
“I think you’re an admirable man to do that.”
“Then you don’t mind waiting another day to leave?”
“It’ll be worth it if we have horses.”
And a wife. Jeffrey’s intentions of the night before suddenly lodged in his throat. He couldn’t just toss out his intent to marry the man’s granddaughter. Jeffrey had been raised better than that. The war may have turned everything upside down, but Jeffrey was a gentleman to the core.
He knew what he had to do. He had to ask for Claire’s hand before he could even mention marriage to Claire.
And today was not the day for that. Jeffrey wanted to procure the horses, get Grandpa’s money, or whatever it was he wanted from the burned house, and get home.
The urge to get home had never been so strong in him.
He wanted—needed to see his sister and his grandfather. Perhaps it was from spending so much time with Claire and her grandfather, but whatever it was, it was pulling him home.
He’d hear
d that twins had a unique connection. Perhaps Alexandra was in trouble. He needed to be with her. To help her, if that was the case.
By daylight, the town was awake and Jeffrey began to make inquiries. The first couple of hours were spent chasing phantoms, but finally, someone directed him to a stable on the other side of town, across the river.
The owner showed Jeffrey two horses.
“Surely you have horses in better condition than these,” Jeffrey said.
The man glanced toward the other end of the stable. “Horses are hard to come by these days.”
“Everything is hard to come by with the war, but there are people who can get things anyway.”
“I have a team, but they’re my personal horses and they’re not for sale.”
“Can I see?” Jeffrey asked.
The man led him to another area of the stable. Two thoroughbreds stood side by side watching the two men as they approached.
Jeffrey whistled. “These are fine quality.”
The man nodded proudly. “The best of the best. Before the war, I dabbled in some horse breeding.”
“Looks like you did more than dabble.”
The man shrugged. “These are all I have left.”
“I have to travel with my fiancé and her elderly grandfather. I can’t ask them to walk a long distance. Due to circumstances I can’t go into, they had to walk to get here. I think it damn near killed them. I have to take them north a little bit, then get them down south to my home.”
The man nodded, “Sounds like a bad situation.”
“Very. I have money. I can buy them. But I understand why you don’t want to sell. Perhaps I could rent them from you. After I get them safely to my home, Chene Ruelle, I can have them sent back to you.”
“Chene Ruelle, you say?”
“Yes, that’s where I’m from?”
“Are you a Couvion?”
Jeffrey nodded. “My grandfather is Ernest Couvion.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so? Ernest and I go way back. I consider him a friend.”
“You don’t say?”
“Tell you what,” the man said. “You take the horses, no charge, and get your girl and her family where they need to be. Then you get the horses on back to me.”
Two hours later, after meeting the man’s wife, who insisted on him staying for brunch, Jeffrey rode off on one of the man’s prized horses, the other in tow.
Turns out the wife had known Jeffrey’s father. “You look so much like him,” she had insisted. “Your uncle once courted my sister. And I met your father, but he was already smitten by your mother,” she’d said, smiling mischievously at her husband.
That had sealed the deal.
The whole exchange had been bittersweet for Jeffrey. It broke his heart that a stranger saw his father in him.
And Jeffrey couldn’t even remember what his father looked like.
He’d thought finding horses was a challenge, but finding a lady’s dress, it seemed, was next to impossible. He found two—one was much, much too big and the other was much, much too small—a child’s dress.
As he was walking out the door of the shop on Main Street, the clerk called out to him. He stopped and she dashed forward, her arms full of red and blue fabric.
Jeffrey went back inside and she spread the fabric across a table. There were two dresses that looked to be about the right size for Claire.
“I found these upstairs,” she said, breathless from running to catch him. “I had made these for a young woman before the war, but when her husband joined the army, she went with him. I never heard from her again.”
One of the dresses was a high neck gown in blue organdy. The other was a red silk. The red silk was a ball gown with a daring neckline and ties up the back.
“If you like one of them, you can bring her by and I can make some minor alterations if needed.”
Claire could wear the blue now and he could save the red one to give her later to wear once they reached Chene Ruelle.
Two days later, Claire, Jeffrey, and Grandpa dismounted in front of what had been their house. Jeffrey held Claire by the waist as she slid from the horse.
Though Grandpa had been watching them closely, he was currently focused on the wreckage of his former home.
Jeffrey took advantage and stole a kiss which brought a smile to Claire’s lips. He took her hand and led her to the area that once been her home.
They would never know if the money survived the heat of the fire. Scavengers had carried away the bricks, picking the place clean.
Grandpa was silent as he walked through the area where the house he had built himself had stood.
Jeffrey and Claire stood back, giving him space.
“I’m too old to rebuild,” he said, his voice wistful. “And Claire won’t be living here anyway,” he continued, his voice growing stronger.
He turned back, gazing straight at Jeffrey. “I can go back to Becky’s house,” he said. Then he looked at Claire. “Do you want to live at Aunt Becky’s with me?”
Claire couldn’t seem to find words. “I ‘um…”
“It’s alright,” he said, turning back to kick at the dirt.
Claire looked up at Jeffrey for guidance, perhaps, her eyes wide.
Jeffrey sucked in a deep breath. It was time.
“Sir,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
Grandpa turned back around, a smile playing on his lips.
Jeffrey ignored it. He needed to get this part over with. If Grandpa said no, he didn’t know what he would do. He released Claire’s hand and took three steps forward, so he could look Grandpa in the eyes. “I’d like to ask for Claire’s hand in marriage.”
“Is that so? And why is that?”
Jeffrey swallowed thickly. Was it always this hard? “Because I love her, sir.”
“Does she want to marry you?”
Good question. What kind of custom was this anyway? He had to make a fool of himself when he didn’t even know if the girl wanted to marry him.
“I hope so. I haven’t asked her yet.”
“Don’t you think you need to find that out first?”
“I thought…” Jeffrey took a deep steadying breath. “Yes. I’m thinking that would be a very good idea.”
What better way, he considered, to begin a new life than in the rubble of the old?
He turned around.
Claire smiled at him and his heart tripped up a notch.
He wanted her more than anything. He had since the day he first laid eyes on her.
He closed the distance between them, took her hand in his, and knelt in the ashes. “Claire,” he said, his voice rough with unchecked emotion, “Will you marry me?”
She went into his arms and he cradled her on his knee. “Yes,” she said. “I will marry you. But…”
He pulled back, filled with dread. “But?”
Her brow was furrowed. She glanced toward Grandpa. “I can’t leave my grandfather.”
Relief washed through him. “Is that all?”
She nodded, eyebrows raised.
“I was planning on bringing him with us anyway.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course.”
“Will he come?” she asked, looking over his shoulder at her grandfather.
“I guess you’ll have to ask him,” he said mischievously. They stood, and hands interlocked, faced Claire’s grandfather.
“I won’t go without you,” she said.
“I know,” he said, glancing around. “It’s not like I’ll be leaving much behind.”
“Then you’ll come?” she asked, with hope in her voice.
“Yes.” He smiled. “I’ll come with you.”
Jeffrey picked her up at the waist and twirled her around. “It’s a happy day,” he said, setting her on her feet. Then he sealed it with a kiss.
When he pulled back and looked into her eyes, he saw a guilty expression on her face.
“What is it?” h
e asked.
She nodded toward Grandpa. The older man stared off into the distance, a wistful expression on his face.
Noticing them watching him, he turned back and moved toward them. “Congratulations are in order,” he said, holding out his arms to hug Claire.
“I’m sorry,” Claire said. “I know this is a sad time for you.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “Life goes on. This is a happy occasion. We’re off to have new adventures.”
“I hope our adventures are better this time around,” Jeffrey said, feeling that pull again toward Chene Ruelle. “Is there anything else we need to do here, sir?”
“No,” Grandpa said, turning his head toward commotion coming from the pond.
“What is it, Grandpa?”
He didn’t say anything at first, but a tear dropped from his cheek. He met her gaze, his voice full of emotion. “It’s Romeo.”
The dog ran full speed toward them, nearly knocking Claire down as he happily licked her face.
Their hearts light, they found a spot near the pond and settled on a couple of fallen logs to eat the dinner they had brought with them.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” Jeffrey said. “Both of you.”
Grandpa and Claire turned to him with curiosity.
“We don’t have very far to go. To get to my family home.”
“What do you mean?” Claire asked, her smile faltering with confusion.
“I know I was dressed as a Yankee when you shot me,” he nodded to Grandpa, “but I’m southern as you are. I’m from south Louisiana.”
“You don’t live up north?”
Jeffrey could see the relief and hope in Claire’s face.
“Thank you,” Claire said, lifting her eyes to the Heavens. Then turned her smile, bright with happiness on Jeffrey.
Chapter Sixteen
The trip to Chene Ruelle had been difficult to say the least. What with dodging Yankees and seeking shelter in the rain, they had more than their share of adventures. Fortunately, it was nothing so trying as the beginning of their journey when they had been captured by the Yankees.
They turned down a road following the Mississippi River. Claire was in awe at the majesty of the grand river. With Jeffrey on the horse in front of her and Grandpa on the horse behind, she watched a steamboat far in the distance of the huge river. Jeffrey had told her the story of how he had survived the explosion. And now, seeing the magnitude of the river, she was astounded that he had survived.
Hearts Under Fire Page 17