by Jun, Kristi
His gaze shot up with curiosity. “Kate spoke of me?”
Perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything, because he didn’t look pleased. “She said you were no gentleman, a brute,” she said in a half-hearted jest. Kate had mentioned that he was a brute, but that had been when he was trying to have her hanged for killing his brother.
He gave her a sour grin. “Believe her. I am no gentleman.” He took a spoonful of stew again, and again.
“If you had said that to me a few days ago, I would have agreed with you, but after today . . .” she said.
He cleared his throat and continued eating.
“What is the matter now?”
“I am afraid your opinion of me is premature.”
“Pray tell, enlighten me, then.” She was starting to get irritated. The minute she thought she understood this man, he surprised her, and not in a good way, she surmised.
“I brought Harris here. That is who I am.”
“It wasn’t your fault that he came to threaten me.” He said nothing, so she continued. “Whether you like it or not, you are an honorable man,” she concluded.
“If you really knew me, you wouldn’t say such things.” He lowered his gaze and took another big bite of his stew.
“I think I have gotten to know you a little better.” From the periphery of her vision, she noticed someone watching them. She tried to ignore her for the first minutes, but then the woman kept her gaze on them. Before she knew what was happening, the stranger was walking toward them. Emily looked up to meet the woman’s gaze and noticed it was the girls’ governess, Miss Quinn.
Utterly mortified, she wanted to duck under the table and disappear. Maybe if she pretended not to notice, it would hinder Miss Quinn from approaching, but that would be utterly boorish, and clearly the governess noticed her.
“Lady Wentworth?” Miss Quinn said hesitantly.
Emily gave her a faint smile. “Hello, Miss Quinn, lovely to see you.”
Miss Quinn gazed at Johnathan with questions lingering in her eyes. Emily’s cheeks went hot. Please do not mention this to anyone, she begged with her eyes. “You must be wondering what I am doing here,” she said in a nervous tone.
“Mrs. Mary’s cooking is infamous. Many travelers come here to taste her famous stew.”
Miss Quinn saved her the humiliation of having to come up with an excuse. Clearly this was a precarious situation, and she was thankful for the governess’s discretion.
“It’s very delicious,” she said, watching Johnathan go about his dinner, and she was thankful for once he was quiet because she needed to remedy this quickly. “I may have to ask the owner for the recipe and ask my cook to serve them once I return to Kemp Manor.”
“It’s a family secret, I am afraid.”
“You know the owners well?”
“Yes, I have known them since I can remember.”
“I see,” Emily said. “Please tell the owner that the stew was wonderful.”
“I will, my lady.”
“May I press upon you to keep this meeting private, Miss Quinn?” she said. “I don’t wish to worry my brother. Mr. Hawk is going to promptly escort me to Kemp Manor once we are done here.”
“Of course, my lady,” she said with a smile. “I must return to my brother as well.”
Emily’s worry dissolved with relief when Miss Quinn smiled and gave her assurance that she would not mention their meeting.
“Don’t let me keep you,” Emily said.
They both watched Miss Quinn return to the table and sit across from her brother again. “I had planned on us remaining here in town for a day or two, but it seems that won’t work.”
She glanced at Miss Quinn again and gave her a smile. “I agree with you on that point. I think we should leave—"
“—hand over the blunt,” someone shouted from across the room with the sound of broken glass and a thump. She turned toward the voice, and Johnathan stood instantly and faced the two men having an altercation. One brute was significantly bigger than the lanky man who seemed to weigh no more than ten stones, while the other man seemed to weigh double. Clearly this was not a fair fight.
The larger man grabbed the smaller one, threw him against the wall, and proceeded to beat his face. “I don’t give a bloody fuck, you owe me.”
Before Emily knew what was happening, Johnathan walked over and grabbed the bigger man by his shirt and pulled a hard punch to his nose, blood spattering. The brute touched his nose, looked at Johnathan, and lunged at him. Swiftly Johnathan sidestepped, and the man landed on the floor. The man stumbled but got back up on his own two feet and went after Johnathan, but lost his momentum. Johnathan kicked him. This caused the brute to stumble back and hit his head on the wall. Grabbing the lout by the collar, Johnathan picked him up by the cravat.
“Get the fuck out,” he ordered.
“Or what?” the brute said, wiping the blood off his mouth with this dirty sleeve.
“You’ll have more than a broken nose.” Johnathan released him, stepped back, and watched him.
The entire room was in silence, waiting to see what the brute might do. Within a few seconds, he walked away. “If I see ye again, ye pay,” he swore.
“Apologize,” he said, pointing to the lanky man who was watching them with fright, “then get the hell out.”
The brute glared at him, then did as he was told. “And the owner.”
The swine walked over to Mary, who was standing by the bar holding a bowl, apologized, then walked out. Emily stood there stunned at what she had witnessed. Johnathan turned to face her. Her eyes lowered and she saw the splatter of blood on his cravat.
“Entertainment,” someone said. “And I didn’t even ’ave to pay fer it.” The young man took a swig of his drink and sat down beside Miss Quinn.
Miss Quinn mentioned that young man was her brother. She looked again. The sweet, caring docile woman had a brother who looked half tipsy and seemed to think blood and brutality was an entertainment.
“Come,” Johnathan said, walking past her. “We’re leaving.”
Chapter 12
Such brutality.
Everything happened so fast, she hardly knew what happened, but after she had time to think about it, it was quite sad, really. Was this what his life was like in America? Chasing after criminals and a lonely existence? Her heart went out to him because he had suffered so much.
After witnessing the transgression at Mary’s Inn, she understood his reasons for choosing solitude. She would, too, if she were in his position. How crushing it must be to have lost an infant baby and a wife, despite the fact that he hadn’t loved her. His heart must be breaking still. She wished there was something she could do to ease his pain.
As she looked up at the sky, the stars twinkled down at her brightly. The realization of how insignificant she seemed under the stars made her wonder how life would be out there, away from here.
“How’s your fist?” she asked.
“It’s fine.”
“I’ve never witnessed a brawl before. Are you in much pain?” She took his large hand in hers, spread it open, and ran her hand over his fingers. Lifting his hand, she kissed each knuckle and wished it to heal quickly. “If it wasn’t for you, that man could have been badly injured. He is a lucky man.”
“Someone needed to step in and teach the goon a lesson.”
Emily was snuggly pressed again Mr. Hawk’s solid chest. The warmth of his body helped to ease the chill as they rode on to the cottage. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arm around her and held her hand in his.
This feeling she was having for him was so clear in her heart, and she knew exactly what she needed, wanted. She feared with each minute spent with him, it was going to be harder to say goodbye when the time came. But she didn’t want to think about that now. She wanted to enjoy ever
y minute she had with him because their time was limited; she had no delusions about this.
He had placed his brimmed hat on her head to keep her hair dry, and he had his arms firmly placed around her to make sure she was secure. And the sway of his hips against her buttocks was more than enough to conjure thoughts in her mind.
“We’re almost there,” he said, as if sensing her discomfort.
But she wasn’t uncomfortable. Yes, it was dark and drizzling, but being with him made her feel utterly safe. She was falling for this man.
As they slowly neared the cottage, she wondered about his childhood, his family. “I am sorry for everything you’ve been though,” she said, not quite understanding why she needed to say it. He said nothing, so she continued. “I heard about your wife . . . your baby . . .” She felt him stiffen against her, but he made no attempt to respond to her. She hated this silence. Perhaps sharing her experience in life would assist him in trusting her. “I lost my parents when I was barely old enough to remember them.”
“I am sorry about your parents,” he said. “But don’t compare the death of my wife and child to the death of your parents.”
Taken aback by his blunt remark, it took a moment for his words to seep in, as if slowly being thawed from the freeze. She frowned, not knowing if she should be offended by his response or sorry for thinking she might actually have a civilized conversation with this man. Right now, she didn’t care.
“You are an insensitive brute,” she said.
“I can’t disagree,” he said a few seconds later.
Perhaps Kate was right. He was no gentleman. “Stop the horse, please.”
“Why?” he questioned, utterly confused.
“Stop the damn horse or I will scream.”
He slowed and came to a full stop. “Get your hands off me,” she said, releasing his arm that was supporting her and clumsily stepping off, falling on her bottom on the muddy ground.
“What are you doing?” he said.
Feeling like a fool, she steadied herself and tried to stand while he looked on with amusement on his face. “This is not amusing, not in the least, Mr. Hawk.”
He released the reins and swiftly got off the horse in one motion. When he tried to assist her by grabbing onto her hand, she yanked it away. “I do not require your assistance.”
“Fine,” he said, stepping back a few steps and crossing his arms.
Her behind hurt from the fall and she was certain she was going to end up with a bruise in no time. She tried to stand, but slipped when her foot slid in the mud. Trying again, this time slowly, she finally stood on her own two feet. She looked at her muddy hands, soiled dress, and shoes, and there was mud spatter on Johnathan’s face and clothes.
“I will walk,” she said, starting to walk down the path. She would rather be anywhere than near this selfish bastard who had no consideration for others’ feelings. Did he think somehow his loss was more important than the loss of her parents?
“Don’t be absurd. Get on the horse.”
She kept walking, even though it was difficult to see at this hour. Thank goodness, the moon was bright tonight. She didn’t hear him follow, and she wondered if he would actually leave her here all alone. He wouldn’t dare. Just because she wanted to walk didn’t mean he should desert her, yet her pride prevented her from turning around to see if he was still there, watching. Wet and tired, she kept walking, and she thought she heard his gait behind her.
All of a sudden, she was furious, because words can hurt, and he gave no consideration to her feelings when all she did was consider his. She turned to face him. “You may have suffered the death of your wife and your child, and that is painful, I know, but I have suffered too,” she expressed. “You are not the only one who is in pain, don’t you see? I know it hurts because I have lost both of my parents.”
“Get back on the horse.”
“Selfish, insensitive bastard,” she blurted out. “I wish to go home.” She was tired, she missed her brother, and she desperately wanted to be in a familiar surrounding right now. “I demand you take me home.”
“Emily,” he said slowly, as if trying to calm her. He took a deep breath. “Must I explain myself?”
“Yes, if you care at all for my feelings.”
“You misunderstand me.”
“I did not misunderstand you, I am certain of it,” she snapped, walking away from him. She heard him follow her. He grabbed her wrist and turned her around to face him.
“I am not undermining the loss of your parents.”
She felt the tears brimming, hot and painful. But she didn’t care if she cried. He was a brute, and she wanted nothing to do with him. “You really should consider your words before you speak,” she said.
He gazed at her sternly, then his face finally softened. “I was merely trying to point out that death is very personal.”
For a moment, she blinked, then again. “It is very personal, and it still hurts. Your bluntness hurts. Your inability to communicate like a normal human being hurts. Do you comprehend what I am telling you?”
His expression hardened, and while she could not clearly see his face, she felt the pain she had caused him, but she didn’t care at the moment.
“You caught me off guard,” he admitted. “I don’t often speak of my late wife and my family, nor do I invite anyone to do so.”
There was a hint of regret in his tone. God, why was she so fascinated by him? It was irrational and impetuous. She’d learned the difficult lessons years ago, hadn’t she? She trusted too easily and was too eager to assist. According to her brother, it was a flaw that caused a great deal of trouble for her.
He caught up with her and took her in his arms. At first, she fought him, but slowly and desperately, she melted into his warm embrace. She sobbed, and she couldn’t stop, nor understand why this was hurting her so much now.
She looked up and saw the contours of his chiseled face, his thick beard, and what he did next she welcomed with all her heart. He lowered his lips and kissed her. Softly at first, letting her know he was sorry, that he didn’t mean to hurt her. Her arms came around him and slid inside of his outer coat, pulling him closer to her. She explored the curves of his back, his hard muscles under her palms, and he deepened their kiss.
“If you wish to go back to Kemp Manor, I will take you, but it can’t be tonight.”
They looked into each other’s eyes. God, this man drove her mad with impossible dreams. “Will you be staying at the house with me if I choose to go back?”
He nodded. She wished to leave, desperately, with him. But she could not risk returning when she’d already informed her servants of her plans, and she had let her chaperone go home for the week. There were always a few who couldn’t be fully trusted in her brother’s household. As much as she wanted to return to Kemp Manor, she needed to remain at the cottage.
She shook her head. “I am all right now. I will do as you ask. I will stay with you at the cottage.”
Chapter 13
“Your bath is nearly ready,” Emily heard Johnathan said.
When they returned to the cottage, Johnathan had prepared a hot bath for her in her bedroom. It was fascinating to watch a grown man who wasn’t a servant scurry about getting everything ready, including soft towels that now hung at the foot of the clawfoot bathtub. Her fascination with him was getting dangerous, and she knew this was going to bite her in her arse one day.
“There, it’s all ready for you.”
“Thank you for this,” she said, smiling at him. Dare she say how scrumptious he looked in the candlelight? He’d been in such a rush to get the bath ready, he didn’t have time to do much else, as he was still wearing the bloodstained shirt from when he had trounced the man in the restaurant.
“Your shirt,” she said. “You will need a bath as well.”
Hot steam rose
from the bathtub. Unsure what else to do, they watched each other, and the prolonged anticipation was nearly unbearable. “Will you join me?” she brazenly said. Her cheeks suddenly went a hot, thrilled at the prospect of seeing him in that intimate way.
“Are you certain about this?” he asked.
She knew her answer would have consequences, but at this moment, she didn’t care, and she wasn’t going to care. She wanted him, needed him. “I am.”
“Take off your clothes,” he ordered. “I want to see you.”
She smiled. “You first.”
“Sneaky, my lady.” He obliged by untying his cravat and tossing it on to the floor. Then he untucked his white shirt and pulled it off to reveal an exquisitely proportioned chest with traces of hair running down to his midsection and disappearing into his breeches. Her heart thumped against her chest faster and harder as each article of clothing came off with ease. And finally, when he stood there in nothing, she took in the masculine allure in front of her.
Her eyes lowered to a well-endowed manhood that proudly presented itself to her without shame. Blond curls sprouted around his member, and she wondered shamelessly how it would feel between her fingers. He was exquisite, and her fingers inched to touch every inch of him.
“Your turn,” he said.
“I need your help.” He walked around the tub and stood next to her, and she knew full well what was going to happen. The excitement, the anticipation . . . her heart was going to break out of her chest as her breath became nimble.
“Turn around,” he whispered. She obliged. His warm fingers grazed her neck as he unfastened each button one by one, and her dress slowly began to fall, gathering at her feet. Just then, she felt his wet lips on the base of her neck, and she sucked in lungful of air. Oh my, she was starting to get dizzy.
She turned to face him in only a chemise, stockings, and the garters that held her silk stockings in place. There was no way to describe Johnathan except to say glorious. There was nothing that was subtle about him, and his appearance was exactly the same. She’d seen a drawing of one of Titan’s sons, Prometheus, and he was just like that. His exquisite muscles were gloriously bronzed, the definition on his stomach was tight, and his chest and stomach were remarkably formed. Is this what all men looked like? She wouldn’t know, since she’d never seen a man with his shirt off. She had a feeling this man in front of her must have been born from a god.
