Savage In Silk

by Donna Comeaux Zide

  For the first time in years, she was beginning to feel carefree and at ease. As she opened her eyes, the snow that had built up on her lashes caused a miniature avalanche and came cascading down her cheeks as she laughed in delight. Once, as a child, she had managed to sneak past her nurse’s usually watchful gaze and had been found outside in the snow, just completing a snowman. Now, she jumped to her feet, silently vowing to build the best snowman she could.

  Thirty minutes later, Mariah had managed a reasonable facsimile of that long-ago snowman. To anyone else he might seem a bit lopsided, but to his creator, he was a perfect sculpture. There was something…something she couldn’t quite put her finger on! Standing back, she suddenly saw he needed a smile. A few moments later, when Mariah found some small black rocks to do the job, he grinned happily at her; and she smiled back in admiration.

  Suddenly, almost out of thin air, a large, destructive snowball crashed into the snowman’s head. For the briefest moment, his head slowly slid from his shoulders, then finally fell to the ground. The rocks that had formed his wide grin slipped into a frown and Mariah whirled in a fury and saw his destroyer about ten feet away, busily preparing another missile. Through the mist, she couldn’t quite discern his face but she was so angry she quickly bent to the task of preparing a defensive volley of her own.

  Seeing her action, the man aimed his next throw directly at her, just missing as she bent for more ammunition. Mariah laughed merrily as she felt the snowball miss. She threw herself into the fight with abandon, aiming carefully and catching her adversary offguard as he stood up to throw another handful at her. She was overcome with triumphant laughter, watching him wipe the snow from his face. He came closer, sputtering the entire time as she tried to determine who her enemy was.

  With a shock that jarred her to the pit of her stomach, Mariah recognized a thinner, bearded Jared. Stumbling back, she lost her footing and tumbled down onto her headless snowman. Crumpled into an ungainly heap, with snow drifting down the open collar of her cape, Mariah swore an oath at him. Jared laughed at her condition, enraging her with that big, booming laughter she remembered so well.

  Squatting down on his heels in front of her, Jared grabbed a handful of snow and rubbed it over her face. His voice was as mockingly cool and confident as ever. “What a way to greet your true love, Mariah! I'd thought I would come home to a hero’s welcome and instead I find my wife cursing me.”

  Mariah was beside herself with a black, encompassing fury. Chilled to the bone, embarrassed to be caught playing in the snow, she was further incensed that he had the gall to mock her! When he pulled her to her feet, she raged at him, tossing the worst names she could think of. “You miserable wretch…you…you…” she sputtered while Jared continued to laugh at her.

  He was more than amused by Mariah’s fluster. She had no idea what an appealing wildcat she was with her angry green eyes spitting fire in his direction. The rich black curls framing her face were tipped by a frosting of crystals. Anger and cold had brought two bright spots of color high on her cheeks. To quell any further rebellion, he drew her forward until her mouth, softly appealing despite its angry set, was a breath from his. Desire and longing welled up from deep within him, painful emotions he’d had plenty of time to contemplate since leaving the Crimea. He tightened his grip on her arms, overpowering her first, struggling efforts to withdraw, and covered her mouth with his, tasting the sweetness he had missed. Her struggles ceased, as her body instinctively melted against him and he felt a renewed sense of triumph as she responded to his caressing hands. The pressure of his lips eased to become a smile against her mouth. Loosening his hold, he grinned cockily at her obviously rising passion.

  Despite her body’s sensual betrayal, Mariah was more incensed than before. She had settled her feelings about Jared and he had returned only to tease the buried feelings to life again. He was playing with her in his usual cat-and-mouse way and she wanted none of it! Raising her hand with all the force she could muster, she felt it connect with his grin in a satisfying crack that resounded in the crisp, icy air.

  The gray flecks in his eyes deepened to a hazy blue, warning of an approaching storm. Jared had been caught completely offguard and, as he rubbed at his reddening cheek, he speculated aloud at her audacity. “What the hell was that for?” There seemed to be no fear in the wide, dark-lashed eyes, only open hostility as she stood her ground, hands on hips, defying his physical dominance.

  “For a start it was for my snowman,” Mariah shouted angrily. Jared was tempted to laugh at her defense of the creation but decided on discretion. “That is just the first of a long list of grievances! Since I had the misfortune to meet you, I’ve been raped, beaten, vilified, abused…” she paused to catch her breath and then raged on, “humiliated, lied to and…treated like a whore! I am tired, Mr. Bryant, tired to death of your highhanded, overbearing treatment. I don’t want you …or any other man for that matter!” Her head tilted high in open defiance. “Please have the decency not to manhandle me any longer. Before you came here, I’m sure Stuart told you of my plans. It’s time Jenny learned she was American as well as English.” Jared was stunned by the barrage of accusations, immobile for the moment, and Mariah took advantage of his inactivity to sweep past him. In a grand gesture of independence, she headed for the gate.

  Damn the little cat, anyway, he thought, still suffering from the blow of her words. He had to admit there was a truthful basis for the tirade. This is going to be harder than I thought! Jared had no intention of letting her leave, just when he had belatedly discovered how wrong he had been about her. Catching the hood of her cape, he brought her sliding back to fall into his arms. Despite her squealed protest, he picked her up and carried her from the park, ignoring her efforts to kick at him.

  “Let me down this instant,” she screamed. “I won’t be treated like this again—you’re trying to bully me!” Her fingers curled into talons which, if freed, would have struck at his face.

  Jared heaved her over one shoulder, adjusting her slight weight to a comfortable position. He marched down the street, as though it were common practice to carry a struggling woman over one’s shoulder. There was no one about to see her pummeling his back with tightly closed fists or, fortunately, to hear the vile names and curses she rained down on his head. Jared smiled, amused by the useless tirade of abuse.

  Twisting around from her dizzying, half-upside-down position, Mariah anxiously looked for someone to help her. Spying a lone constable, swinging his billy club while he ambled along his beat, she screamed and yelled loudly to attract his attention. To her immediate satisfaction, he hurried toward them, his face set in a tired, worn frown beneath the high-crowned police hat.

  “What seems to be the trouble ’ere, young man,” the officer inquired sternly, rolling his r’s in a broad, north country accent.

  Jared shook his head, affecting saddened dismay. “Runaway wife, officer. My father had to go after her three different times while I was away in the Crimea. The woman’s a constant source of embarrassment to the family and to me! The Maubreys have always been such a quiet, well-behaved lot.” The mention of Jared’s family name changed the worry on the constable’s face to deferential respect. Still, he wasn’t quite sure if the young man was, indeed, the husband of the struggling young lady.

  As Mariah swung her head around to protest Jared’s lies, she was greeted with a question. “Is this man your ’usband, miss?” She made the fatal mistake of being truthful.

  “Yes, but…”

  Her explanation was cut off as Jared’s palm came down on her backside with a resounding smack. He shook his head, knowing he’d gained the officer’s sympathy, and dramatically pursued his advantage. “If it happens one more time, Constable, I swear, I’ll let her go for good!”

  Convinced Jared’s actions were totally justified, the man touched his cap politely and clucked in sympathy. “Sometimes a whippin’ is all they need. I should try it on me own missus, jus’ once!” Mariah
uttered a shriek of unsuppressed fury, and was rewarded by another, even harder wallop from Jared.

  “Appreciate your understanding, Officer, and a good day to you,” Jared said pleasantly and watched as the man continued along his beat. Whistling nonchalantly, Jared strolled toward the house. Mariah had ceased her struggles; the blood was rushing to her head in a dizzy, whirling manner.

  “Jared, please…let me down, I can’t breathe this way!” Silence greeted her plea and she tried a different tactic. “Wait until Stuart sees you,” she threatened, adding, “You’ll be sorry you ever touched me!” She fell silent, saving her breath. She was bounced up the steps; the door opened at Jared’s knock and a startled Henges backed up to let them pass. The look on his wizened old face as Mariah passed seemed to say that the gentry did, indeed, have strange ways about them.

  Carrying her across the expanse of polished parquet flooring, Jared greeted his father in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. “Afternoon, Father.” Mariah swung her head around to see Stuart standing at the entrance to the front drawing room. As she gazed at the face that was so like Jared’s, his surprised expression was slowly replaced by spreading amusement at her predicament.

  “Stuart, for God’s sake, do something,” she pleaded. “He’s your son —make him put me down!"

  She gritted her teeth in impotent fury as she saw him exchange a wink with Jared and then reply to her plea. “I’m sorry, dear. He may be my son, but he’s your lawfully wedded husband. Far be it from me to interfere in a domestic quarrel!” He stood there, quietly amused as his son carried Mariah up to their room. Finally, as he saw Jared kick the door open, he chuckled and moved in the direction of the study to toast his son’s return.

  Mariah was tossed onto the oversized, canopied bed to land in a bundle of twisted fabric and ermine. Freeing herself, she popped up, spitting like a cat and ready to attack him for the indignities she’d suffered, only to find him calmly stripping off his damp clothing. “Peel off those wet clothes or you’ll catch a cold,” he ordered.

  Tossing her head, Mariah glared spitefully in his direction. “Damn you, I don’t care if I do!” Nevertheless, as Jared stepped threateningly forward, she did as ordered. As though emphasizing the wisdom of his command, she began to sneeze, her eyes burning and watering. Throwing the cape defiantly in his direction, she refused to undress further and flounced over on her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. Although she was curious at the sounds he made as he moved about the room, her obstinate pride refused to allow her to peek. Finally, the weight of the bed sank as he sat next to her.

  “Mariah, I thought I told you to undress.” His statement was greeted with a stiff, unyielding silence. Frowning at her back, he thought, why is she so stubborn? His only concern was that she wouldn’t catch pneumonia. With a low sigh he admitted to himself that her stubbornness was a perfect match for his own willful pride. Catching her completely by surprise, he grabbed her high lace collar and pulled hard, ripping until the entire dress and the chemise it covered were split totally down the back. Stunned, Maria flipped over in a rage. As light as her weight had been, Jared was tired from carrying her home and his still unhealed leg wound was aching. His patience at the breaking point, he dragged her over his lap. One leg pinned her squirming legs while his hand repeatedly smacked the pertly rounded backside with a firm, steady rhythm. He was heedless of her cries, which moments later turned to pleas for mercy. “Will you listen the next time I tell you to do something?” he inquired sternly.

  “Y…yes,” she cried, her breath coming in ragged sobs. “I promise, Jared…now, let me go!” As Jared dumped her back on the bed, she collapsed, weeping with anger and frustration. Throwing a large, fluffy towel at her, Jared ordered her to wrap herself in it and watched her ignore his command. She continued to lie there, rubbing her reddened derriere until he flashed a wicked grin, his eyes darkening with a pulse of desire. “Continue that, m’love, and you’ll give me ideas!”

  Abashed, Mariah quickly moved to obey him, wrapping the towel completely around her and tucking the end into the soft valley formed by her breasts.

  Jared’s smile mocked her and his comment was spoken in a sarcastic tone. “That’s better…now you’re learning lo be a dutiful wife.” He moved to the lamp, blowing it out and leaving only the glow of the fireplace to light the room. Mariah watched him warily, stricken by sudden sympathy when she noticed the slight limp in one leg. Firelight reflected off the planes of his face, emphasizing the hollowness of his cheeks. He leaned forward to stir the embers with a poker and his handsome profile was silhouetted against the flaring red-orange glow. He seemed to be lost in his own world, ignoring her presence as though she no longer existed.

  Jared was sunk in brooding reflection. He’d meant to come home and tell her how much he loved her, how sorry he was about the past. Instead of achieving a loving reunion, he’d made the same mistakes all over again, with the result that there had been the usual clash of wills between them. Now, he seriously doubted she’d accept any sort of apology from him. He had only himself to blame. Mariah was a thoroughbred filly, meant to be gentled, and instead he had tried to break her spirit with his dominance.

  Mariah’s voice broke into his thoughts, wary but concerned. “How is your leg, Jared?”

  “It’s better,” he answered shortly.

  Mariah suddenly felt shy, almost as though it were again the first time they were meeting. Very clearly she remembered the wolfish gaze that had caught her attention across the length of Jonas Burten’s cabin. She found herself drowning again in his hazy blue regard and issued a silent prayer that he would say something, anything, to break the awkward silence that had sprung up.

  As though he had read her mind, Jared answered the prayer in a hushed voice full of longing. “God, I missed you, Mariah! No doubt you were happy to see the last of me after…” His voice trailed off with a bitter twist as he remembered their last meeting and how brutally he’d taken advantage of her.

  Mariah stared, unable to let herself trust the note of self-contempt that had crept into his statement. It had to be a trick! Jared knew she was vulnerable and he’d discovered some new way to hurt her. She rejected his admission, even while her foolish heart begged her to believe him. “You only took what was yours to take,” she said quietly. “How often you’ve reminded me I’m your property!”

  His own rash, possessive words were coming back to haunt him now…now, when he needed her as never before. A sudden vision of how empty his life would be without her floated mockingly before his eyes. He let out a short, mirthless laugh. “The sins of the past, eh? Can’t say I didn’t deserve that.” He faced her again, walking close to where she sat on the bed. His expression was devoid of duplicity as he stood before her. “I owe you an apology. I know I’ve treated you badly in the past—I’ve had plenty of time to think over what I owe you.” His voice trailed off to a whisper and he lost himself in the liquid green depths of the eyes that had haunted his dreams, the eyes of the woman that, too late, he had discovered he admired and respected as well as desired. For the first time in his life, he felt a need for someone else so strongly that it choked him. He dropped to his knees by the bed, whispering her name in a low groan as he laid his head in her lap.

  The helplessness of the little-boy-lost action finally undid Mariah. She could no more reject the honest misery in his plea than she could resist breathing or loving him. Her hand trembled as her fingers caressed and soothed the golden curls covering the bowed head. “Jared, I…I was sure you wouldn’t want me, after…after Drew…” She began to cry, unable to speak of the embarrassing, degrading scene he had been forced to witness when he came upon her in bed with his brother.

  “I was a fool…” Jared mumbled. Twisting his head under her hand and raising his gaze to her face, he tried to explain his feelings. “I should never have doubted you —I was blinded by my own damn pride and jealousy.

  Mariah, forgive me, I was so angry I wanted to believe what I saw!”
His voice shook with self-disgust.

  “Drew engineered every detail so well. Jared…I knew how horrible it must have looked but I couldn’t tell you. I should have stayed until they brought you back but…I couldn’t bear to face you! And I hated you for believing the worst about me—again.” Two tears trickled slowly down her cheeks and fell on his hand. Jared stood up, lifting her to the center of the bed and lying next to her. Like a child seeking comfort, she reached out blindly and snuggled against his chest.

  “At least he’s dead,” Jared said bitterly. “I’d have killed him myself if Warrener hadn’t done it.” His lips curved against silken curls in a smile of self-reproach. “It took the combined efforts of Tony and Warrener to bring me to my senses. It’s a hell of a shame when other men have to point out what a prize you’ve married!” His tone changed to one of grudging admiration as he added a puzzling statement. “Your friend Adam has a smashing right hook!”

  Mariah’s brows drew together in a tiny frown. There was so much they had to discuss. A sudden thought made her issue a hesitant confession. “Jared, I gave Drew ten thousand pounds as ransom…we’ll never get the money back.”