by Jen Yates
‘Time to live up to your boast about getting me out of my dress.’
‘No, Lou,’ he protested against her teasing lips. ‘You’re not strong enough yet. I'm still not breathing easy from the fright of almost losing you. Don't tempt me, love.’
‘I can't help it. I want you, Levi. We've been on this adventure for a whole week now—and we haven't—exactly—’ She dabbed her tongue between his lips. ‘—been adventurous.’
‘Dammit, Lou, don't,’ he groaned, his body already hardening, aching. ‘We should wait. Another week at least.’
‘A week! I want you now, Levi Longfellow. You said I'm Mrs. Levi Longfellow now. It's time you showed me what that means—and I'm not taking no for—’
‘Lou.’
He couldn't keep his mouth from her, had never been able to resist her, whatever the mischief she proposed. But he’d be gentle. This precious woman was more fragile than she realized—even if her hands were strong enough to unbutton his shirt and pull it from his trousers. He'd be gentle—
Surging upright, he stood her on her feet and tried to catch her hands, but his feisty Lou was back and there was no gainsaying her.
‘Undress me,’ she ordered huskily, loosening his falls so his trousers slid to his knees.
With a soft growl he sat her on the bed.
‘All right, sweetheart, be still. I'll undress for you first.’
He removed his boots and the rest of his clothes swiftly followed. There was no controlling or concealing his body’s desire for her and the anticipation in her eyes only built his own.
‘Are you sure, Lou?’
‘Never more,’ she smiled, coming to her feet. ‘Help me out of this gown so I can prove it to you—husband. If I'm to play the part of your wife then it's time I began to feel the part—’
‘You will most certainly feel the part,’ he growled, finally relinquishing all attempts at controlling her or the hunger she aroused in him. He did manage to lay her clothes over a chair rather than let them fall to the floor, but beyond that the only brain he had functioning was definitely not in his head.
Her breasts were fuller, her belly already slightly rounded with their child.
‘Mine. Sweet Jesus, Lou. You’re mine at last.’
Her hands came up around his neck and he clasped her to his chest and laid them both down on the bed.
‘I've always been yours, Levi. You and I have always known that. It's only everyone else in the world who couldn’t accept that fact. Now—even the world has to accept it. We belong together. I love you. I need to love you.’
Her hands, which weren’t weak at all, pushed him back onto the pillows and she knelt above him, her knees straddling his and her eyes aflame with need.
With a deliberate slide of his fingers he dislodged the dark wig from her head, tossing it in the general direction of her clothes on the chair.
‘Now—you look like my Lou, my woman, a flame so bright you dazzle my eyes—’
Shaking the coiled fiery mass loose, she pressed his wrists to the pillow and trailed the silken strands back and forth across his chest.
‘Witch.’
Her laughter was the music of his dreams.
Then her head lowered, her hair settled in a tangle on his skin, and her mouth, hot and wet, latched onto one hard nipple while her fingers closed over the other, teasing and lightly pinching.
‘Dammit, Lou! I need to be gentle with you. Don't make me forget that.’
‘I don't want—gentle, Levi. I want everything you've got. I want everything we have—sacrificed so much for. I want to be reminded of what we’ve gained—so I can—recall the dream. These last few days I've been forgetting, looking back and regretting—instead of looking forward—and being thankful. I want to show you thankful. I want you to show me thankful.’
Her damned beautiful lips danced hot, tasting kisses down over the ridges of muscle on his ribcage, to the indent of his navel. There she stopped to rim and tickle with her tongue. He gripped her head, his fingers spearing the silken waves of her hair.
‘Tickles,’ he grunted, but she wouldn't let him dislodge her, merely licked harder.
Then her fingers circled his aching cock and all he could do was groan and beg.
‘Lou, dammit, take me, ride me—’
He had some vague thought it might be gentler for her than him taking her with the violence she incited in him, though that thought was hazy at best. He wanted her in any way he could have her.
As she rose up, her breasts hung before him, perfect satiny globes with nipples like small wild strawberries, and he couldn't resist.
Lifting his head he sucked one deep pink bud deep into his mouth and she cried out.
‘Levi! Oh Levi!’
She sagged on to him, her breasts desperately seeking the attention of his mouth.
Lou in his arms, in his mouth, in his heart.
‘Heaven—you taste like—heaven—’
‘Feels like—heaven, Levi. I need you—now—’
Rising up a little, she felt for his cock again, her fingers gloving him with ecstasy. Holding him firmly, she guided him where she wanted him, where he yearned to be, and sank down on him with a deeply satisfied moan.
‘Oh Levi, being with you—like this—makes me whole—’
‘Me too, love—now ride me. Take us both to heaven.’
Heaven. It was definitely that, he thought some time later, as he gazed up into the darkness.
Lou’s head on the pillow beside his.
Her scent, sweet and floral, along with the aroma of their loving, all around him.
The warm reality of her body snuggled into his.
Their dream of a future together finally manifesting.
These were the stars lighting up the deep, rich tapestry of the future he’d so long dreamed for them.
A drifting cloud of worry softened the brightness.
How would his Lou cope? Did she even understand what they were facing now?
‘Do you truly understand we can never go back, my love?’ he whispered into the soft cloud of her hair.
He’d thought her asleep, had really only been wondering aloud.
But she stirred in his arms, raised a hand to caress the curve of his neck, and pressed her lips softly into the hollow of his throat.
Leaning back a little she let her hands rest against his chest. His heart felt too big for his body to contain.
‘Until Goldie came—and brought the letters—I wasn't sure I could do this and I couldn't imagine just leaving England—never knowing—how anyone fared—what was happening back home. It felt like cutting off a limb—voluntarily. I wanted to rush back, hug them all one last time. It felt so final, scary, like I’d really died. But now I realize you will keep in touch—will be expected to keep in touch, and Longie will know all that goes on at the Hall—I feel so different, so—much more—relaxed about it. I think I'm ready for the adventure to begin, Levi. Impatient even. Three weeks seems like a long time—’
Levi smiled gratefully into the darkness.
That was more like his feisty, impatient childhood playmate. She was regaining her strength and spirit and another three weeks of rest and recuperation should rebuild her resilience for the journey ahead.
Running his fingers through the luxuriant abundance of her hair, he let the smile seep into the whole of his being.
She was his now, to shelter against the vicissitudes of life.
Pray God, he was equal to the task.
‘It’ll be a test—of our faith and trust in one another. But we've always had that. Love and trust. It's like facing a blank canvas. Boarding the ship will be the first brush strokes of the landscape we’ll paint together—the two of us, our children and the life we’ll make with them—a life of adventure and opportunity.’
‘How did you get to be so wise?’ she asked, her voice a little slurred with drowsiness.
‘Our Da. You never really knew our Da. He was big, quiet—and a fund of know
ledge and philosophy he would share as occasion demanded. Gruff and to-the-point. He had a saying for most situations.’
He missed the man more than he could ever express and devoutly wished he’d still been there to comfort Mama. But a small part of him was glad his Da was not here to see how close he’d come to risking the livelihood and happiness of his entire family.
‘What do you think he would say in this situation?’
‘When one door closes another opens. When opportunity knocks it may appear as a stranger—and strangers are simply friends we haven't met yet.’
Da would also have had something pithy to say about the wages of sin, no doubt, but he’d not mention that one to Lou.
The pain of his loss and the guilt he carried because his desire for Lou had got him banished when his father had needed him most, was as raw, as gut-wrenching as it was when it first happened.
His arms tightened about his precious woman. He’d given much to bring them to this point where they could be together.
He’d give whatever it took.
‘I wish I’d known him. I used to like catching a glimpse of him when we drove past. Mr. Longfellow at work in his mill. Miss Lally in the cake shop, Mr. Lowe in the bakery. The Misses Walton at the dressmakers. Seeing them going about their businesses felt like all was right with the world. Stannesford was an idyllic place to grow up. No matter where we go, what new life we create, Stannesford will always remain in our memories. It's part of who we are.’
‘And no one can take our memories from us, Lou—even when we make new ones.’
***
A few weeks later and he’d begun to fear memories were all he was going to have after all.
Ocean sailing was not like bouncing about in the branches of the lightning tree pretending they were a pirate and his mate aboard the Jolly Roger. What children they’d been. How naive, right up until they’d boarded the ship, they’d had no idea.
He’d thought Lou fully recovered, and even the bouts of morning sickness had stopped and she’d started to glow and bloom—
Two, three days at sea had changed all that.
He was fine but his Lou was not.
They’d now been at sea for six weeks and she'd not kept a meal down in all that time. She'd lost the baby, the very reason they’d embarked on this journey in the first place.
And now he greatly feared she was losing the will to live.
Please God, he hadn't come this far to lose her now.
The days, hours, minutes all flowed into one another and all he could do was hold her, try to imbue her with his health and strength.
Would it have made a difference if they'd waited, given her longer to build her stamina before leaving England? Would the outcome have been the same regardless—because she simply had no stomach for sailing?
Trouble was, with each day that passed, with each shallow breath she drew, his hope frayed—inexorably, until it was lying about him, tattered beyond recognition. He was beginning to doubt they’d succeed in realizing their dream.
A future without Lou in it would be too cruel when they’d come this close.
He kept talking to her, even though she was only semi-conscious in his arms.
At times he found himself drifting off, his chin resting in Lou’s hair and he’d jolt awake, chiding himself for missing one precious moment of this woman in his arms.
He thanked God on an hourly basis that Goldie had come with them.
There was no imagining how he'd have managed without her.
‘They've sighted land!’ Goldie burst into the cabin, the shadows of exhaustion that had lined her face when she left a few moments before, were miraculously smoothed out and her worried eyes were bright with hope. ‘They're saying we'll make landfall before dark.’
‘Thank God,’ Levi breathed. ‘We're in America, Lou. Hang on, my love, please God, hang on.’
She didn't answer him, but he told himself her breathing eased a little, as if subconsciously she’d understood.
They would be off the ship soon and on firm land.
Would it be soon enough?
***
She'd abandoned the cheerful, intrusive chatter of the lodging house drawing room.
Miss Kendall’s spinster cousins, Miss Hettie and Miss Dorrie were too inquisitive and nosy for Liberty’s comfort. And old Mr. Crombie, who constantly drifted off in his chair and woke himself with a loud snore, would pontificate in a hectoring voice as if he'd been listening to the conversation all along even though his comments bore little relevance.
Tonight, she’d just wanted to sit and dream and cry a little for the baby they’d lost, and long for Levi's return.
When he’d written that he’d purchased a place on the Millstone River in New Jersey, it had felt like an omen, like they were returning to the mill, to something they knew and understood.
Although he’d said it was just a piece of prime land with the river on one boundary, a decent sort of a house and some outbuildings in which to get the business started, there was just something in the name ‘Millstone’ that felt right.
Missing him was a constant burn in her chest, an ache deep in her belly, a dream that teased her senses the moment her eyes closed. This time the dream seemed—closer.
‘Lou, open the door. I'm back!’
Armed with letters of introduction from Lord Thomas Wolfenden to his brother, Levi had ridden north from Philadelphia as soon as he'd been able to convince himself, she was on the mend.
She'd had to work hard at showing him a brave face and proving to him she was well able to manage without him for the weeks he would have to be away securing their future.
‘Lou?’
A fist thumped on the door.
She wasn't dreaming. Stumbling up out of the chair, scattering the sewing from her lap to the floor, she quickly fumbled the lock open and threw the door wide—
‘Levi—uhh?’
Horror washed all through her as she stared at the bearded stranger filling her doorway, clearly intent on entering.
‘Lou—it's me.’
‘Levi?’
Her voice was failing her—but this—this—
‘I haven't shaved since I left, love. It's the first thing I'll do if you don't like it—but—I thought—you might—like it, that is.’
She’d never seen him with a beard, never imagined how—
Breath and thought jumbled in her throat.
‘You look like a pirate—a real pirate.’
Then he kicked the door shut and she was in his arms and all her startled senses coalesced into the simmering, burning need for this man.
Who smelt and felt like Levi, sounded like Levi, tasted like Levi.
Her fingers crept into the black curly beard hiding the square dented chin from her, and it was soft and wiry all at the same time.
‘God, I've missed you, woman—and—I intend for you to discover the sensual benefits of—’
‘Sen—sensual benefits?’
‘Mmm—’
He nuzzled her neck and she giggled, pulling back.
‘That tickles!’
His hands were all over her, finding buttons and ties and pulling them free.
‘I'm going to tickle you—all over.’
Heaven was in Levi's arms.
And he'd convinced her of the benefits of the beard.
They’d come together in a wild frenzy of mutual need at first—their bodies unsated since their first night aboard ship.
Then he’d set about nuzzling and tickling every inch of her with the softly abrasive curls on his chin until she’d been writhing and gasping and begging for his possession all over again.
‘Tell me—everything,’ she commanded when finally they’d caught their breath and lay sated in one another’s embrace. ‘What’s it like? How long will it take us to get there? When can we leave? Miss Kendall has been showing me how to cook—and light the fire—and everything.’
His mouth closed over hers, hard.
‘I really wouldn't care,’ Liberty declared, wrapping her arms tightly about his muscled torso, ‘just so long as you’re there with me.’
‘Always, Lou. Now that you’re mine, being apart from you is purgatory. From here on we do everything together.’
He would get no argument from her on that score.
She was just drifting off to sleep, secure with his body wrapped around hers, when he asked, ‘Is Goldie coming with us to Millstone?’
‘No, she found a building with a shop below and a tiny living area above, which she thought perfect for her purpose. She's already moved in. I really miss her. I’m so glad you’re back.’
Her belly lurched with the worry that had been her constant companion since Goldie had moved into her new abode.
They were still going to starve if they were to be dependent on her cooking skills—and if fresh supplies were only going to be available once a week or even longer, they couldn't afford for her to be wasting food by making inedible meals.
***
It was ten days before they set out for Millstone.
Wrapped in a warm cloak and with a blanket over her legs, Liberty sat alongside Levi on the driver's seat of the big wagon he’d purchased.
Longfellow Stud & Stables would provide various equipages for hire, as well as horses.
‘It's going to be very busy until we can afford to employ help. I'm going to have to do all the work myself.’
‘I can help. I can learn to muck out stables—and harness horses—and I can certainly ride and exercise them—’
He was going to deny her, refuse to let her soil her ladylike fingers with the toil which would sustain them in this new life.
She could tell from the stiffening of his body and the clamping of his jaw, visible through the beard now neatly trimmed much closer to his skin.