The passion left her. She lowered her head. “Yes.”
He was silent. She lifted her eyes at last, and she could read nothing from his harsh, dark gaze. “I don’t always hate you,” she said. Then she emitted an impatient oath. “Why offer, then? You have no love for me. Why do you make this proposal?”
“I, at least, want you,” he said softly. He grabbed her hand suddenly and pulled her over to the canopied bed, and he cast her upon it. He clutched the canopy rod and stared down upon her. “This is my bed, mistress. If you go through with this, you will have no room of your own, you will join me here. Nightly. You will not have headaches, nor will you suffer distress. And you are still willing to marry me?”
She furrowed her brow. The image of the dirty attic room and the death’s-head rose before her.
“Yes,” she said coldly.
He laughed then, and pulled her up. “You are a whore,” he told her.
She lunged at him furiously, and he caught her wrist. He did not pull her close but just held her. “If you would engage in battle, my love, be assured that I will ever be ready to enjoin it. Take care, lest the injury you would inflict upon me fall home upon you. I saved you from Henry’s wrath only because I had made up my mind that I would wed you. I think a few more lashes would have stood you well, but should they ever be administered, I think I would prefer to raise the rod myself.”
“Let go of me!” she raged, jerking her wrist.
He quirked his brow. “Come, love! Are those the words of a tender fiancée?” He held her a moment longer, then released her. He returned to his window seat, and she saw then that he had a number of documents there and had been studying them before her arrival. He had dismissed her, she thought. And she was all too glad. She was ready to turn and flee.
“The wedding will be on the first of June, as I have said. I shall send the dressmaker today, for there is very little time. Tell her that she is free to hire as many seamstresses as she deems necessary to finish your wardrobe by June. Jane and Lenore have excellent taste if you wish advice, though I wonder if you are not as talented with style as you are with accent and manner. I shall send a purse to Henry for anything else you might require before the wedding.”
“There is nothing that I will require.”
“What? You are marrying me for money, and you are shy about taking it?”
She did not know how to tell him that she was marrying him not so much for money as she was for the mere security of steady meals, a soft bed, and a sturdy roof over her head. For heat against the chill of winter and bread against the bite of hunger.
“There is nothing that I require,” she said simply.
He was silent for a moment. She wondered what he thought as he watched her. “That will be to your discretion,” he said at last, and he turned his attention back to his documents.
Jassy didn’t move. Now that the arrangement had been made and she had refused his purse, she thought of a few things she might have done with it. She cleared her throat, and then was annoyed with herself for her manner. When he looked up at her again, clearly irritated by the interruption this time, she spoke sharply. “There are a few things that I would—that I would like done.”
“You will be mistress of the house. You may do as you please.”
She lowered her head. “Molly … the girl at the tavern. She was very good to me. Always. May I bring her here?”
“You may. I’ll have her sent for. She can be here for the wedding.”
“And … and Tamsyn too?”
“Tamsyn?”
“He was a doctor once, I believe. He works at the tavern.”
“That old drunk—”
“He is not an old drunk. He is a man down upon his luck. I can make him work well. He will be sober, I swear it!”
Jamie shrugged. “The servants are your domain. I have vast holdings, and we shall need many of them. Hire whom you will. If this Tamsyn can be found with Molly at Master John’s tavern, then I will see to it that he comes here with Molly. Is there anything else?”
She shook her head. He waited. She moistened her lips.
“Thank you,” she managed to say to him, and then she fled.
The dressmaker came that afternoon, and the afternoon after, and the afternoon after that. Her small room became filled with velvets, taffetas, silks, laces, linens, and brocades. She was fitted for day dresses and evening dresses, warm dresses and summer wear. She was to have several warm muffs, jewelry, caps, elegant hats, and fashionable purses. Jane and Lenore were very much into the spirit of things. Jane produced numerous fashion dolls from Paris. “One must be careful, though, for the king was raised by strict Presbyterians. Alas, fashion hasn’t changed much! At least the ruffs are gone. I remember as a little child that we had to wear them. So uncomfortable!”
“The queen is very fashionable,” Lenore protested.
“Anne of Denmark adds jewels to old styles!” Jane complained.
Jassy barely heard them. She watched her wardrobe grow around her. Sometimes she would touch the soft fur that rimmed a collar or a sleeve, and she would marvel that such beautiful, costly things could be hers.
Then she would realize that the cost of a single muff might have saved her mother’s life and she would be morose again. The days were rushing forward. May passed in a blaze of glory.
On the twentieth of the month, Jamie came to dinner. He and Henry were cordial friends again. Henry, in fact, considered himself the extreme benefactor. Thanks to his good graces, Jassy had been given the opportunity to rise above her station in life.
The meal was good, duckling and early vegetables, but Jassy could barely eat. She could hardly lift her glass to her lips. Robert was with Jamie, and he and Lenore were planning their own wedding. It would take place two weeks after Jassy’s.
Jassy was seated next to Jamie. She could not speak to him, nor could she join into the other conversations. Lenore laughed and said that it was nerves. Jamie commented that it certainly was.
When the meal was over, Jassy fled outside. She went to the stables, and to her mare. Robert found her there again. Bitterly she remembered the first time he had met her there.
He kissed her soundly on the cheeks. “Ah, Jassy, it has come well for you, hasn’t it? Had I but had Jamie’s resources, it might have been different. You are so beautiful.”
“And you are a man betrothed to my sister,” she said to him.
“The sister with the dowry,” he murmured.
“Be good to her,” Jassy warned.
He laughed. “Oh, I will be. Lenore is a beauty too. There’s something about you, though, Jassy. Alas, it is my best friend to wed you. You’ve come so very far. Who would have imagined this of the wench in the tavern?”
“The wench in the tavern makes her own way, Robert,” Jamie said, entering the barn. Jassy did not like the sizzle in his eyes. It was harder than usual.
“Robert was congratulating me,” she said.
“So he was.”
“I’m happy for both of you,” Robert said, and grinned.
“Ah, a haystack! I shall leave you two young lovers alone.”
Jamie remained at one end of the stables. Jassy nervously stroked the mare at the other.
“Strange, how it comes to mind the way that I found you two together the last time I was here.”
“There was no contract between us then,” she said.
“Ah, but there is a contract now. I’ve even the king’s blessing upon my endeavor.”
Jassy held quiet for a moment. He was still; he had not raised his voice. Yet she sensed the leashed fury of him down the length of the stalls, and she spoke defensively. “There was nothing between us.”
“Did I say that there was? I accused you of nothing.”
“Because there is nothing to accuse me of.”
“I came quickly.”
“You are absurd.”
“You claimed to be in love with him once. I am merely hoping that you have curbed the emotion.”
“Don’t threaten me.”
“My love, this is no threat. This is a deep and grave promise. If I ever find you so close with any man again, you will find the lashing you received from your brother to have been a tap on the hand, and nothing more, compared with what you shall receive from me.”
Jassy urged Mary back into her stall with all the control that she could summon, then she started walking down the length of the stable. He was between her and the doorway. She tried to walk around him. He blocked her.
She tried again. This time he caught her shoulders. She cast her head back and stared at him coldly.
“Please, milord, take your hands from me.”
“You are something!” he murmured. “Airs and graces lie all about you.”
“You are about to marry me. I thought that you wished me to play the part of a lady.”
He shook his head. “Not in front of me, mistress. Not in front of me. For I swear, I will strip those airs and graces from you.”
“Never, milord. Now, may I step by you?”
His hand moved. It traveled from her shoulder to her throat. He cupped her chin and she held still. She willed herself not to shiver, not to betray the rampant tempest that played throughout her like a storm, hot and windswept. His fingers moved down her throat. He spoke to her harshly.
“Aye, mistress, you are beautiful.” He lowered his face to hers. His lips touched hers. They were gentle enough at first, then they moved with force. She was in his arms, her mouth was parted, and he played within it easily and with leisure, with the wet blade of his tongue. She clung to him, for she could not stand. The weakness seized her, and the shivering came violently.
She tore away from him, afraid of the volatile emotions and sensations inside her.
“Please! Let me by. We—”
“We what?”
“We are not married yet.”
He smiled with humor, with the patient grace of a stalking tiger.
“Alas. We are not married—yet. But that is soon to be rectified, isn’t it?”
She started to run by him. He caught her arm once again. “No cold feet, milady?”
She looked from his hand upon her to his eyes and back down to his hands again. “No cold feet, my Lord Cameron.”
“You haven’t forgotten that I shall expect everything from you. And that I am not a patient man.”
“I have forgotten nothing.”
“It is all an unfortunate price that must be paid.”
“Yes, yes! What difference does it make?”
For the briefest of moments she thought that he appeared disappointed in her. Then he seemed nothing more than hard and cold and ruthless again.
“There is no difference to any of it, Jassy. No difference. We both know what we want, and we are going for it. You are the adventurer, as much as I. The savage heart, my love.” He released her. “Go. Run. You’ve only a matter of days left now. Oh, my father will be coming by in the next few days. Be cordial to him.”
“Why? Shall he command you not to marry me? Shall he stop your allowance?”
He touched her again, his fingers digging into her arm cruelly. “I do as I choose, mistress, in all things. You had best remember that. And my fortune is my own, I receive an allowance from no man. You will be decent to him, at your most courteous best, because he is a fine old man, and I would have him think that I chose a beauty for her spirit, rather than that I made a deal with a harlot, my money for her person.”
She jerked away from him, blinking furiously at the tears that stung her eyes. “May I go now, my Lord Cameron?”
“You may. Oh, I have your friends. They are already situated at the manor.”
“Molly? And Tamsyn?”
“Yes. Both of them are with me.”
She hesitated and lowered her head. “Thank you. Thank you very much,” she told him. Then she ran back to the house.
Three days later his father, the Duke of Carlyle, arrived in a magnificent coach. Jane and Henry sat with her in the receiving room while she greeted him.
He was a wonderful man. She had trembled before meeting him, wondering if he would despise her as a strumpet who had ensnared his son. He greeted her as if Jamie had chosen a grand duchess for his bride. As tall as his son, with the same dark, flashing eyes, he reached out his arms to her and stood on no ceremony. “Welcome, Daughter,” he told her, and he took her into his arms.
She nearly burst into tears but managed to avoid them. He did not speak of her past, he spoke of the future. Jane teased him and they all laughed, and when the duke had departed, Jassy tried to run out of the room. Jane called her back. “Jassy, whatever is wrong? Papa was not so bad, was he?”
She shook her head. She was going to burst into tears.
“Your father is wonderful,” she said. And then she ran, and Jane did not try to stop her.
The wedding came too soon. The morning dawned ominously dark, with rumbles of thunder and lightning. Kathryn, Elizabeth, Jane, and Lenore ignored the weather. They all met in Jassy’s room early, decking her out in her wedding gown. It was in ivory satin, with pearls and glass beads sewn throughout it. The bodice was low, and lined with white fox. She wore a tiara of diamonds that held her veil in place, and the veil, too, was embroidered and studded with pearls and little sapphires.
Jassy stood still the entire time they dressed her. She could eat nothing, she could drink nothing. She clenched her hands nervously, and released them again and again.
At one o’clock it was time to go down. Henry called for the carriage, and she was handed into it. They arrived at the old Norman church in the village within minutes, and she was handed out of the carriage. Thunder cracked and rolled. “Get in, get in!” Henry urged her impatiently.
He would give her away. Robert was to stand as Jamie’s witness, and Jane as her own. Jane and Elizabeth walked down the aisle before her, and then Henry tugged on her arm. “Jasmine!” he urged her. “Now!”
She started to walk. Jamie was at the end of the aisle, resplendent in black breeches and doublet and a red silk shirt and silk hose, his hair just curling over the lace at his collar. He watched her as she came down the aisle, and he betrayed neither impatience nor pleasure. As usual, she did not know at all what he was thinking.
Suddenly she was there, beside him, and she was handed over to him. She felt his touch, his hand hot, his fingers a vise upon her own. She felt the startling heat of him, as he was close. She saw his clean-shaven cheeks and breathed in the scent of him. She was trembling again before the service ended. She could not speak her vows, and the priest had to prompt her twice. Jamie stared at her curiously, a smile curving his mouth. She managed to answer.
He spoke his own firmly, with no hesitation.
Then it was over. He kissed her, and kissed her freely, and the young men in the pew called to him with laughter. Robert cleared his throat, and told Jamie that they must depart; the wedding feast awaited them.
She left the church in her husband’s carriage, suddenly very aware of the band of gold on her middle finger. She moved it nervously, aware that he stared at her while they rode, that he assessed and studied her with curiosity. He moved the curtain on the carriage. “Your prize, milady. Your manor looms before us.”
The carriage moved through the gates. When he lifted her down from it, she stared at the beautiful mansion, and a thrill rippled through her. He had called her “milady,” and it was her rightful title now; he had made it so. And this was her home.
If she could just keep from thinking that the night must come!
“Come, love,” he whispered to her. The other carriages were arriving. He lifted her off her feet and into his arms, and he carried her over the threshold of the house for luck. Applause followed them, and then the manor came alive. Liveried servants were everywhere, supplying guests with plates and crystal glasses of wine and ale in the hallway. Her father-in-law kissed her, and Jane kissed her, and Elizabeth gushed, and even Henry kissed her. She was
introduced to nobility and gentry, for she was a lady now, the wife of Lord Jamie Cameron.
It was a fairy tale. She was the bountiful mistress of this. She had become a princess, and this was her palace.
“You should have taken your bride to Paris,” Lenore told him good-naturedly. “I should have demanded it.”
“Ah, but my bride could have demanded and demanded, and it couldn’t have been, for I sail in two weeks. No …” He paused, and his gaze lingered as it fell over Jassy. “In the time we have as newlyweds, I shall seek the comfort of my bed, the service of my trusted friends here.”
Jassy turned away. Her head was pounding. Musicians began to play, and she was happy to dance. She even laughed when she danced with Robert, for he was always funny, and he was able to lift her mood. Until she discovered Jamie watching her again. Still, she wanted the music to go on and on. But, of course, it couldn’t.
And finally the last carriage rolled away. Lymon announced that he would seek her council about the household in the morning.
Lymon left them at opposite ends of the hallway. Jamie lifted his wineglass to her.
“I shall give you thirty minutes, Jassy. No more.”
She could not breathe. The time of her reckoning had come. She could not set down her own glass and turn to the stairs.
“Thirty minutes. No more,” he told her again.
She gripped her glass more tightly and turned to the stairs. She fled up them. She knew the way to his room. She ran into it and closed the door. Leaning against it, she closed her eyes. She swallowed down the last of her wine, and in a sudden pique, she sent the glass flying across the room and into the fire.
“Jassy!”
She looked up, and there stood Molly, all beautifully dressed, her eyes bright and her cheeks rosy. “Molly!” Jassy hurtled herself across the room and into her friend’s arms.
“Lord luv you, girl, but you’ve married a lord! Oh, bless you, lass, and you remembered me and old Tam. Oh, Jassy! We’re together again. I cannot believe me own eyes! This fine place is yours!”
She swallowed. Yes, this fine place was hers. The crystal and the silver and the silk and the marble. Fine things, and they were all hers.
Sweet Savage Eden Page 14