Petals on the River

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  A chorus of chuckles came from his men. More than any others, they had seen the moody depths into which Gage Thornton had sunk after Victoria’s death—and now, in sharp contrast, they witnessed the heights of joy to which he was soaring. The four cabinetmakers settled in to wait once more, but Gage was as good as his word. After bathing away the residue of sweat from his body, he garbed himself in a white shirt and stock, a handsomely tailored dark blue frock coat, and a waistcoat and breeches of a lighter gray hue, all of which he had worn at his first wedding several years prior.

  The sight of her groom in gentlemanly apparel made Shemaine recall her mother’s concerns after Maurice proposed. The elder had fretted that her daughter was being lured to the altar by his splendid face. That was not entirely true in this case, Shemaine decided in waggish reflection, for she was just as fascinated by her master’s exceptional physique.

  The Bruton Parish Church was just west of the palace grounds. It was there the small wedding party gathered for the ceremony. At one hour past noon, the rector quietly united Gage Harrison Thornton and Shemaine Patrice O’Hearn in holy matrimony. Mary Margaret and the four men took up positions on either side of the couple while Andrew stood close beside his father. Proudly wearing the wedding ring on his thumb, the boy faced the altar in anticipation of that moment when it would be needed. He was pleased that he had been included in the service, and when asked to provide the ring, he held the tiny digit aloft with a toothy grin.

  The pronouncement that the couple had been joined into one was sealed with a kiss, and though it was brief and gentle, Gage’s eyes glowed warmly into Shemaine’s, assuring her that it was but a small sampling of the passion that would be forthcoming. Taking her hand, he pulled her arm through his, and together they turned to receive the good wishes of their friends.

  “A handsome couple, ye be.” Mary Margaret sniffed, dabbing at the moisture in her eyes.

  “Ye’re a lucky man,” Ramsey declared, grinning broadly. “But then, I think ye knew that the first time ye saw her.”

  “Aye, I did,” Gage admitted, thinking back on that moment when he had first espied Shemaine sitting on the ship’s hatch cover. He had hardly been able to believe she was real and not some vision he had conjured in his mind, but he distinctly recalled having been startled by the sudden clarity of his thoughts almost as soon as he laid eyes on her.

  Andrew was somewhat baffled by all the well-wishing, but his father lifted him up in his arms and presented him to his new mother, hoping to help him understand. “We’ll be a family now, Andy, and you’ll have a mother, just like Malcolm and Duncan do.”

  “Sheeaim my mommee?” the boy asked curiously, looking at his parent intently.

  “Aye,” Gage replied with a nod. “She’s your mommy now, just like I’m your daddy.”

  Andrew waggled his head from side to side and began to chant in childish glee. “Mommee and Daddee! Mommee and Daddee! Mommee and Daddee!”

  “I think he likes the sound o’ it,” Mary Margaret surmised with a chuckle.

  “Me hungee,” Andrew announced, turning the subject to more important matters.

  “You’re always hungry,” Gage teased, playfully tweaking the tiny nose.

  “Me hungee,” Shemaine chimed in near her husband’s shoulder.

  The bridegroom settled a brief but provocative kiss upon her lips. “Will that do, my sweet?”

  Wrapping her arms around her new husband and son, Shemaine rose on tiptoes to bestow an affectionate kiss upon Andrew’s rosy cheek and then pressed a much warmer one upon Gage’s smiling mouth. Even so, she denied that it would be a fair exchange as she gave him a sparkling smile. “As sweet as your kisses are, my dear husband, I must insist that Andrew and I be given something more substantial lest we faint from starvation.”

  Gage laughed and raised an arm to attract Ramsey’s attention. “My family demands nourishment. Will you bring our carriage about, my good man?”

  “At yer service, m’lord,” his friend replied with a chortle, and sweeping them a bow, he went out to bring the wagon around.

  At the Wetherburn Tavern, they enjoyed a hearty repast replete with a liberal amount of toasting and sipping. But as time progressed Gage became increasingly anxious to be home and laughingly bade his guests to return to their conveyance so they could be driven back to the barge ere the day was well spent. It was Gage, the only truly sober one among the men, who finally collected his guests and his family and ushered them back to the craft.

  A brief stop was made on the way downriver from Williamsburg to deliver Andrew to the Fields’s cottage. There the boy could play with Malcolm and Duncan to his heart’s content, allowing his father and new mother to enjoy being alone together in the privacy of their home. After hearing of Gage’s plans to marry Shemaine, Hannah had insisted that Andrew stay with her family for several days. His father had willingly acceded. As they were preparing to leave, Hannah smilingly presented the newly espoused couple with a basket of food to enjoy later that evening, knowing the preparation of a meal would likely be considered an intrusion.

  “So’s ye won’t be havin’ ta get out o’ bed ta eat, I’m thinkin’,” Ramsey murmured near the bridegroom’s ear after Gage had thanked the woman for her wedding present. Lifting his gaze to the rough-hewn beams of the ceiling, the older man rocked back on his heels. “I’ve also been thinkin’ o’ maybe comin’ ta do some work in the mornin’, just ta catch up with a few things whilst there’s no one in the shop.”

  With a roguishly baleful gleam in his eyes, Gage fixed his gaze upon his favorite cabinetmaker and quietly hissed a warning. “If I see any hint of your ugly face anywhere around my place for the next several days, I’ll be doing a little target practice on your ornery hide. If you haven’t caught on, my oafish friend, I plan to have Shemaine entirely to myself for the whole of these few days, and I’d not take it kindly if some simple dolt like yourself took a fancy to come out and visit us. Need I explain myself further?”

  Ramsey scrubbed a hand reflectively down his mouth several times, managing to smother a grin as he smoothed his bushy mustache. “I guess I can recognize a threat when I hear it.”

  “Then perhaps there’s some hope for you after all, old man,” Gage retorted with a chuckle.

  Saying his farewells, Gage gave Andrew a loving hug followed by a kiss. “Be a good boy, Andy, and mind Mrs. Fields,” he entreated. “I’ll come back to get you come Monday morning.”

  When Gage turned away to speak with Hannah, Shemaine bent down and enfolded the boy in her embrace, exaggerating a lengthy grunt of pleasure as she did so. “I’ll miss you, Andy.”

  Giggling, Andrew responded in kind, and then ran to join his friends, proudly boasting, “Sheeaim my mommee now! My daddee said!”

  Grinning, Hannah glanced up at Gage. “I think your son is as happy to have a mother as you are to have a wife.”

  “I nearly despaired of finding a woman who could fulfill the requirements of both positions, but Shemaine has proven herself more than capable,” Gage replied with a full measure of pride. As his wife came near, he reached out an arm to pull her close against his side and smiled down into her shining green eyes. “I don’t know how it could be possible that I could be so fortunate, Hannah, but Shemaine is everything I had been yearning for.”

  Shemaine reached up a hand and, with the back of her knuckles, gently stroked her bridegroom’s cheek. “Even if the choice were presented to me at this moment, I don’t think I could leave what I’ve come to treasure.”

  Marveling at her words, Gage had no name for the soft, strange emotion that he saw in her luminous gaze, except that it was very close to what he had often seen in Victoria’s blue eyes in the blissful hush of sated desires.

  CHAPTER 15

  When the wedding party arrived at the Thornton cabin, Gage swept his bride into his arms and, leaving his men to assist Mary Margaret, sprinted up to the cabin well ahead of everyone else. For one tantalizing moment before their guests
arrived, he clasped his bride to him and kissed her with all the passion he had been holding in check since the night of the dance. His mouth moved demandingly until her soft lips parted with an ardor that matched his own. Then footsteps came across the porch, and Gage recognized Ramsey’s overloud remarks on the beauty of the night, no doubt meant to warn him of their approach, and the couple parted shakily to welcome the others as the door was swept open. After much well-wishing and the presentation of handmade gifts by the men, the wedding guests soon dispersed to their various destinations, leaving the couple completely alone.

  “Come here, wife,” Gage murmured huskily, pulling his bride close again. Taking care not to brush his hand against her healing wound, he slipped an arm about her waist and drew her snugly against him, pressing her soft feminine form against his muscular body. In the warm glow of the lantern light, his eyes leisurely drank their fill, savoring the intoxicating beauty of her face. Ever so slowly he lowered his mouth upon hers and caressed her eagerly parting lips with a long, languid kiss. It was bold and astonishingly thorough in its possession, yet provocative and persuasive in its gentleness. Shemaine’s reserve was rapidly stripped away, and with mounting passion she answered him, holding nothing back. Her small tongue was lured to play chase with his, and as his hand wandered with bold familiarity over her hip, she leaned into him, feeling her breasts tingle against the hard contours of his chest.

  Gage finally raised his head, and his hungering gaze feasted upon her delicate features. “Do you have any inkling how often I yearned to take you in my arms and kiss you until you begged me to stop? My desire for you began in earnest that first night when I saw you standing beside my kitchen table, freshly washed and gowned. I realized then I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you for the full seven years of your indentured service. I only bided my time until I gleaned some chance of you accepting my proposal of marriage.”

  “Would you like to know a secret, Mr. Thornton?” Shemaine whispered with a winsome smile. “When you stepped through the doorway that very same night and pulled your wet shirt over your head, I think that must have been the moment Maurice du Mercer began to fade into the shadows of oblivion.”

  Gage cocked his head in wonderment, thoroughly amazed. “Was it now?”

  “If you didn’t know it, sir, you’re quite a handsome man for a woman to feast her eyes upon, even with all your clothes on,” she murmured warmly.

  “Right now, you’re one step ahead of me.”

  It was Shemaine’s turn to cant her head and stare up at him in confusion. “How so, sir?”

  “I haven’t yet seen you completely naked, and that I’m most anxious to do, madam.”

  “Oh, but when you killed the snake, I had nothing on beneath the towel,” she argued.

  “I noticed,” Gage assured her with a grin. “The towel was not as wet as I would have preferred, but I relished the way it teased me with a glimpse of this . . .” He stroked the back of a finger lightly over a nipple, indicating the place and, in the process, sending waves of scintillating delight flaring through her senses and causing her breath to halt at the thrill of his touch. “ ‘Tis no lie that I wanted to make love to you that night and many times afterwards.”

  Shemaine remembered the hunger she had seen in his gaze and recalled how after her first lesson with the flintlock she had trembled with her own yearning needs every time he had touched her. “I’m glad you couldn’t read my mind.”

  “Why is that, my sweet?”

  “You would have been shocked by what I was thinking.”

  “Then ‘tis well you couldn’t read mine, madam, for you’d have thought me a lascivious rogue.”

  Shemaine giggled as she snuggled her head beneath his chin. “Do you want to eat now? Hannah outdid herself cooking for us.”

  “I’m hungry for you, wife.” Sliding his hands down the length of her back to her buttocks, Gage pressed her tightly to him, making her aware of his hotly flaming passion. “My needs prod me sore, and I would be about consummating our marriage ere the hour is out. Beyond that time, I’d be hard-pressed to endure the wait.”

  At his boldness, a sultry excitement blazed in her body. “I made a new nightgown for our wedding night. Will you allow me time to prepare myself for you?”

  “Be quick about it,” Gage urged softly.

  “I will,” she promised. Rising on her toes, she lifted her mouth to meet his and felt thoroughly inflamed by his fervor as he kissed her with fiery passion. Drawing away with a rapturous sigh, she slipped away from him and hurried to his bedroom door. There she paused to smile back at him. “You will come when I call?”

  His grin would have convinced her by itself, but his verbal answer set aside any idea of a delay. “Aye, madam. Nothing short of this earth crumbling could deter me from reaching your side.”

  Leaving the door ajar behind her, Shemaine entered the room and marveled at the preparations that had been made for them. Candles had been lit on either side of the bed, and the sheets and bedcovers had been folded down invitingly to display sun-bleached linens adorned with Irish lace, no doubt a gift from a certain widow. Shemaine’s new nightgown had been carefully laid out on one side, and with an excited gasp, she realized that it had also been embellished around the collar and cuffs with smaller bands of the same intricate needlework.

  “Oh, Mary Margaret,” she crooned softly in awe. “How very talented you are.”

  Hearing an indistinct murmur, Gage stepped close to the door. “Shemaine? Are you all right?”

  “Aye, husband,” Shemaine laughingly reassured him. “I was just admiring Mary Margaret’s lacework on the new bed linens she gave us, but please don’t come in yet. You can see everything in a moment.”

  Gage paced restlessly about the parlor, trying to bide his time. Readying himself for his bride as much as he dared without running the chance of startling her, he doffed his frock coat, laid aside his waistcoat, and then stripped away the stock, freeing the opening of his shirt. He prowled the interior again, and several moments later found himself searching through a little-used cabinet for a bottle of Madeira that had been stored there. Finding the flask tucked behind several other brews, he drew it out, broke the wax seal, and poured a small sampling into a cup. He tasted it and deemed it worthy enough to share with his young bride.

  At last Shemaine called to him from his bedroom. “You may come in now, Gage.”

  “Aye, love . . . be right there,” he replied, and hastened to find a pair of heavy crystal goblets which Victoria had once foreseen as the first acquisitions of a collection she had hoped to complete. He splashed the dark wine into the bottom of each and, pushing open the bedroom door with a shoulder, carried them into the bedroom. Pausing just beyond the threshold, he smiled as his gaze settled on his bride. Shemaine was sitting up in his bed with her back braced against a lace-edged pillow that cushioned the headboard. Gowned in a soft, gossamer creation trimmed with tiny tucks and delicate lace, she was a stirringly beautiful example of what every bridegroom held hopes of viewing on his wedding night.

  Gage recalled his burning desire to have his way with her, especially after she had accepted his proposal. Yet in spite of the anguish he had suffered being around her and wanting her with every fiber in his being, he had been reluctant to take her virginity while she was still his bondslave. He hadn’t wanted her to feel as if she must yield to his demands. As his gaze caressed her now, he was gratified that he hadn’t pressed her unduly. The wait had been worth all of his fleshly cravings. She was his bride, his lovely one, and tonight would be forever marked in their memory as the one in which they came together as man and wife.

  “Mary Margaret gave us these for a wedding present.” Shemaine swept a hand about to indicate the lace-trimmed sheets and pillowcases. “She made the lace by hand.”

  Moving around to the side of the bed where Shemaine sat, Gage passed her a goblet with a token kiss. Then, as she sampled the contents of the glass, he ran a hand admiringly over t
he dainty threadwork, remembering Mary Margaret’s haste to shoo him out of his own bedroom that morning before they left for Williamsburg, and then, only a little while ago, her smiling reticence and her quick flight to the bedroom while Ramsey and the other men presented their own handsome, wood-crafted gifts.

  “That lady is a blooming marvel in more ways than I’d ever dare to count,” Gage quipped with a grin.

  Shemaine lightly brushed her fingers across the lace of her collar, drawing his regard. “Mary Margaret trimmed my nightgown, too.”

  Gage’s eyes glowed above a smile as his gaze devoured her in a sweeping glance. Setting aside his goblet, he sat down beside her and lifted a lighted taper aloft to closely inspect the minutely detailed edging.

  “ ‘Tis beautiful,” he breathed, but his eyes were drawn irresistibly downward to the tantalizing fullness of her bosom. In the candlelight the translucent cloth was barely a milky haze over the delicate pink and creamy perfection of her breasts. Victoria’s thinness had extended to her bosom, and except for the months she had nursed Andrew, she had been rather self-conscious about the smallness of her breasts, even though she had never been less than womanly to him. Now here he was admiring ample curves that made him tremble with anticipation.

  Shemaine felt suffocated by the heat of his perusal, but she waited in silence as his eyes slowly swept her meagerly clad bosom and the heavy single braid she had intertwined with ribbon. The thick brush of black lashes veiled his beautiful eyes from her, forbidding her visual access into those translucent depths, and though she searched his noble visage, she had no way of knowing what to expect. She could only wonder if this stranger, to whom she was now married, would turn suddenly savage in his quest to fulfill his desires.

  Gathering her fingers and lifting them to his mouth, Gage met her wide-eyed stare as he lightly nibbled the slender knuckles. Then he smiled with incredible warmth, and it was like all of paradise opening before Shemaine. Her breath slipped from her in a softly fluttering sigh of awe.