“But then I couldn’t be with you, or see my husband’s death avenged,” I whisper, shivering at the touch of his lips on my neck.
“What if I agreed to just meet you here instead? You could forget about the cause, and become my lover.” he insists.
“It wouldn’t be the same. I need to work for the cause.”
“I worry for your safety,” he murmurs, covering my lips with his, in a half groan.
“You will keep me safe,” I tell him, beneath his kiss, and when I do, his kiss deepens, pulling my very soul to the surface. Then he is pulling my clothes away, like he can’t wait to have his hands on me. As soon as my clothes fall away, he is lifting me and carrying me into the bedroom, laying me on the bed and devouring me with his mouth.
I am pulling at his clothes, determined to feel his bare skin against mine. He seems surprised, when I reach out, and caress my fingers against him, showing him my deep need for all that he is. Not only as the lover he is becoming, but the man who will release us from the English hold.
He pauses what he is doing to look down at what I am doing. I am mesmerized by the touch and the feel of him, and he slowly lays down beside me and lets me continue to examine him with my hands and my eyes. The moon light is streaming through the window, casting its glow against his strong body, deepening the shadows, which accentuates his muscular shape. My heart is beating out of control and my breath is catching just at the newness of the experience.
“Do you like how I feel beneath your hand?” I hear Jamie whisper, as he reaches out and begins to softly touch my breasts as I lay on the bed beside him.
“It is strange. I was married for three years, yet I never touched or looked at Ferrell this way,” I admit.
Jamie takes in his breath. “You really are a virgin,” he murmurs, and then he gives a little groan, as I continue to touch him, in my curiosity. “Your touch is about to render me beyond control,” his voice shakes.
“Do you like the way I am touching you?” I ask, feeling a little bolder. “A Frenchman once told me that the French love the body of a woman, and the way they can make it feel under their touch. He said it was like a dance. A different kind of dance, I breath. He always tried to kiss me while we were dancing,” I tell him. “Would you like me to kiss you?” I ask, as I lower my mouth closer to him, touching his strong chest with my lips.
He doesn’t answer, but I hear him let out his breath, and the breath trembles as my lips begin to caress his skin, in the same way he had caressed my skin, the last time we were together. I know he wants me to kiss his body in that way, and I realize I want to discover what his body feels like under my lips, so I press my lips against him, letting them slide over his muscles, as I begin to discover what he feels like against my lips.
As I continue to explore the taste of him, he lets out a low groan, and he murmurs something about me being his wild Irish Rose. I remember how Ferrell had called me that, but Jamie only knows me as Ronnie. I reason the sentiment of ‘wild Irish rose’ is a common endearment, so I don’t think much of it. I don’t have time to think about it, because now he is pulling me from him, turning me and placing his mouth over me, pulling the same pleasure from my body as well, until he is pushing past the upsurge within me, causing it to expand into something beyond understanding, as we begin to do the dance, that makes me want to follow completely.
I lay contented in Jamie’s arms. Never wanting to leave them. Hating when morning comes and I am forced to leave them. Each time he feels me move, his hands are caressing me, while his body is pressing against mine. Whenever his desire builds again, he is taking me to the heights of wonders, and I don’t know if I will be able to bare it when he finally has to leave me, and I will never be able to feel the satisfaction of his touch again.
When I wake up, he is no longer in the bed. He does not want to look upon my face when I wake, I think. Maybe he does not want to see the sadness in my eyes when we have to part, or maybe I am just something to keep him warm at night until the uprising is over. He has never once said how he feels about me and I am afraid to tell him how I feel about him.
I slowly put my clothes on, that are scattered on the front room floor and then I leave the farmhouse. I stay to the trees, in order to make my way back to the manor without notice, and then I am going into the garden shed, making it past the kitchen, since the cook is not up fixing breakfast yet.
When I come into my room, Jason is sitting on the edge of my bed with his arms folded. He merely looks at me, and doesn’t say anything. I stand there trembling. Then he pulls the bell for Shannon and the door opens. Shannon comes into the room. “I want you to start packing Mrs. O’Riely’s clothes,” he says to her. “I am sending her to my house in England to stay with my mother. Loraine will be accompanying her.” Then he gets up off of the bed. “Help Rose with her clothes, Shannon, and make sure she is wearing a corset,” he says, and passes me, going out of the room.
I stand shaking, not only in fear but anger, that he would take it upon himself to make me leave my homeland so he could have better control over me. If I could have found a gun at that moment, I think I would have shot Jason with it. Instead I merely crumple onto the bed and start crying.
“You need to get dressed,” Shannon says.
“I shall wear what I have on,” I tell her, and then turn my head back to the pillow.
Shannon leaves the room, and a few moments later, Jason comes in, pushing the door closed with a loud thud. “Get up!” he growls, and I turn my tear streaked head to him, and merely glare at him. A look crosses over his eyes that I can’t read, but then it dissipates, and he is striding towards me. “I said get up!” he roars, as he jerks me up from the bed.
He starts tearing my clothes from my body and I stand naked in front of him. Then he is throwing under things at me. “Put them on!” he demands. But I just stand there glaring at him. My tears have dried, as I look at him. I am so angry, I leap towards him and start to scratch at his face. A trickle of blood, rolls down his cheek, and he looks at the drop of blood on the sleeve of his shirt.
Jason grabs my wrists and then he is bodily starting to dress me, as I scream and squirm to get away from him. “Stop this nonsense!” he bellows, as he takes my arms and gives me a shake. “I can’t trust you, and therefore until we find who is at the bottom of this new uprising, you are remaining in England. Don’t think you are fooling me into believing you are only sneaking out to meet a lover. If it was a lover you wanted, you would have kept Franc here. You are involved in this uprising someway and I won’t have it!”
“I hate you,” I rage at him. “You cannot force me to leave Ireland! I belong in Ireland. If you don’t want to see me get involved in an uprising, then go back to England where you belong. Don’t send me there!”
Jason is ignoring my rantings, as he continues to pull my under things on, but I am pulling them off as fast as he is putting them on me. Suddenly Jason jerks me up and lays me over his lap and starts to spank my bare bottom with the flat of his hand, until my tears of rage turn into tears of pain, and when he finally stops, he pushes me off of his lap onto the floor. “I am coming up here in fifteen minutes. I am sending Shannon back up. If you are not dressed by the time I come back, I am putting you on the ship exactly the way you are,” he breaths, as he tries to calm himself. “Do not defy me, Rose, or you will regret it!”
“You don’t own me,” I scream. “You will never own me!” and then I collapse in tears.
A moment later, Shannon comes into the room, and I let her dress me. When Jason comes back up, I don’t look at him. I hate the sight of him, and I will never allow him to send me to England, I am vowing to myself, as my hatred of Jason begins to consume me.
Jason helps Loraine up into the carriage, and then he is taking my arm and pushing me up into the carriage, pulling me down beside him, as he continues to grasp my arm. My bottom hurts, and it is difficult to sit down. A tear escapes my eye, but I brush it aside. I am thinking of all the ways
I am going to murder Jason, if I ever get the chance. The carriage is silent. No one says a word the whole way to the docks.
When we arrive, Jason takes my arm again and ushers me onto the ship. He remains by my side until they get ready to raise the plank. Then he leaves the ship. I turn my back to him and go to the cabin that we are assigned to. I will find a way to get back at Jason for this, I tell myself. The thought of never seeing Jamie again aches in my throat.
Lorain tries to cheer me up, telling me the fun we will have in England, but I avert my eyes and ignore her. She tells me the trip is not that long. Only a day until we will be there. She places her small purse on the dresser and pats her hair, as she looks at herself in the mirror.
“I guess I will go up and get some fresh air.” she tells me. “If you feel like joining me, feel free to do so.” Then she goes to the door and leaves the cabin.
I go to her purse, without any reservations, and take what money she has in it, putting it in my pocket. A plan is starting to form in my head. I will not be in England long, I tell myself with a satisfied smile.
I sleep most of the way. My previous night’s escapades, along with my struggles with Jason have worn me out. It is late when we dock and Loraine and I walk down to where they are unloading our luggage. “I will hire a carriage, to take us to the train station,” Loraine tells me. “You stay with the luggage.”
I smile slyly to myself, as Loraine goes across to the livery to hire a carriage to take our things to the train station. When I see her disappear into the office, I go into the travel office and buy a return ticket with the money I took from Loraine’s purse. When she goes to pay for the carriage, she is going to have a big surprise, I chuckle to myself. The ticket is for the next morning. As soon as I get it, I go out the back door of the travel office and hide myself behind a large crate standing against the wall. I discover it is empty, so I climb inside and close the lid over me. Jason and no one else will ever force me away from Ireland, even if I have to swim back, I tell myself with determination.
It is cold in the crate, but I don’t care. Jason will believe me to be in England for at least until Loraine can get word to him I have disappeared. Just to make sure that she does not find me on the ship, incase she decides I may return that way, I plan to hide myself in one of the life boats, as soon as I board. Jason will be sorry he ever tried to send me to England, I say stubbornly to myself, to calm my beating heart.
I occupy my thoughts by remembering every moment of the night I spent with Jamie. I wonder what he would think if I was not able to return to Ireland? I wonder if what we shared together is even important to him, or was he merely using me? He seemed as eager as Jason to stop me from being part of the movement, only it was more concern for my safety than trying to prevent me from being involved, the way Jason wanted to do. But regardless of what Jamie’s motives were, I cannot erase from my mind the way he made me feel at every touch. However, it is more than that. I feel a strong connection to Jamie. It is as if I already knew him, the moment we met, even though I have never seen his face.
There is some unnamable power that Jamie has over me. It is something I do not want to give up, even if he leaves out of my life forever, after the cause is won. I cannot give him up as long as there is a way to be with him, even if it is snatched in the night, when the chance comes upon us.
By morning, I am stiff and cold. I have difficulty climbing out of the box with all my frilly skirts and petticoats. I end up rocking the box until it tips over, and finally, I manage to crawl out. There is no sign of Lorain. I try to blend in with the passengers that are docking the ship, and then I find a life boat to hide myself in, until the ship gets underway.
When the ship docks the next evening, I get on the last coach going in the direction of the manor, and when it arrives, I slip off, and make my way in the dark, to my old farmhouse. I will stay there until I decide where I can stay for good. Jason will most likely look for me among my old friends, I realize, if he believes I have returned here. Once I get inside the farmhouse, I take my dress off and put on some of Ferrell’s clothes, and then crawl into the bed, and remember the last time I made love to Jamie there.
I realize I can’t stay her for long. Jason will be putting new farmers in our old house, but maybe he will hold off until he solves the problem of the uprising. Only I am sure he is never going to solve the problem. We are going to succeed this time, I am certain.
When I wake in the morning, I am disoriented. I almost think I am back with Ferrell and I need to get up and start making breakfast. Then everything comes crashing back at me, and I give a groan as I rub my sore backside, and my stiff muscles. I know that there is not going to be a meeting for at least another week and I can’t stay in the farm house, because that will be the first place that Jason will look for me.
I go to find Randy, and when I do, I tell him what happened. “I know how to get a message to Jamie,” Randy tells me. “Maybe he can find a place for you to hide. Go to the barn where we usually have our meetings. I’ll send him there.”
Randy gives me a hug, and I head out in the direction of the barn. I wait there most of the day, and about the time I am deciding that Randy can’t get a message to Jamie, the barn door opens and Jamie comes in, wearing his mask. I realize he had to wait until evening, since he wears a mask on his head and it would look strange during the day to be wearing it. When I see him, I stumble into his arms, and he hugs me to him.
“Randy told me what happened,” he whispers. “But it just shows you how dangerous it is for you to continue to try to be a part of this,” he murmurs. “If I had been Jason, I would have sent you away, as well.”
“But he doesn’t understand. He is not Irish the way you and I are,” I tell him. “He is just pretending to be Irish, while he works for the English to try to put a stop to the uprising. He is probably the one who suspected we were going to rob the armory.”
“What are you going to do, if you have no place to go?” he asks.
“I refuse to go back to England, if that is what you are suggesting. And if I get near Jason again, I may just kill him, out of principle,” I grumble.
“I will have to take you to another abandoned farm house, then. I will bring you food and come and visit you at night. There won’t be anyone put in it because the chimney needs fixing and the roof leaks in places, but it will do until I figure out what to do with you,” he says.
“Can’t I come stay with you?” I ask.
“I can’t wear this mask all day and all night,” he laughs. “And if you see my face, and you get captured, they may try to torture you into telling them who I am. It is better you never see me. If you claim you never saw my face, they may go easier on you.” Jamie takes my hand and we walk about a mile until we come to a farmhouse that is not much bigger than my old farmhouse. “I already put food and blankets in it and cleaned it up for you, when Randy told me you would be needing a place to stay,” he tells me.
Jamie brings me in and lights the lamp. “Randy told me about how Jason punished you. Let me see what he did to you,” he whispers, and he unfastens my trousers and lets them fall to the floor.
Then he is kneeling down and kissing across my bottom, in an attempt to relieve my suffering. “You poor darling,” he whispers. “He never should have done that.”
Jamie removes my shirt, and begins to kiss my body. Tears are falling from his eyes and soaking his mask. I can’t believe that my suffering affects him so strongly. He continues to caress and kiss my body, being careful not to put any pressure on my bottom as I stand before him while he kneels in front of me, cascading kisses over me, his lips dancing against the most sensitive parts of my body. Then he is bringing me to the bed and removing his own clothes, laying on his back, allowing me to lay over him, letting me move against him at my own speed, until both of us are carried away into our joint pleasure. I fall against him, letting him consume my mouth.
“I am glad you came back to me,” he whispers. “Even
though I wish you were safe in England, I would have missed you more than I can express.”
I know that I feel the same way about him and his words comfort my fears that he may have just been using me. He seems to be concerned with my safety, and wanting me in his arms, where he can protect me.
In the middle of the night, Jamie leaves me. I don’t want him to go, but he tells me he has his farm to care for and he will try to take time off in the evenings to come see me and then he is away.
Jamie comes to see me every night and we make love every night. Sometimes I wish it had of been him I had married instead of Ferrell. Then I start to feel bad for even thinking it. I sleep during the day, since I am awake making love to Jamie at night. He tells me not to come to the meeting this time, because I need to get over my bruised bottom. I don’t think the bruises are that bad, but I want to make him happy, so I agree and he smiles at me and kisses me, calling me his sweet Ronnie. I have never told him my real name and neither has Randy, as far as I know, but I have the feeling, since Randy sent for Jamie to help me, that he realizes that Jamie knows I am a woman. Then I remember how Jamie had called me his wild Irish rose the night before Jason discovered me and sent me away, so maybe Randy has told him my real name, I think.
For two glorious weeks I enjoy Jamie’s company every night but two days before the next meeting, the door is pushed open and Jason is standing there. “One of the farmers said there was someone staying in this abandoned farm,” he says, as I take in my breath. “It didn’t take much imagination to figure out it was probably you,” he smiles satisfactorily. “Come along Rose. I can see you are almost more trouble than you are worth.”
“I won’t go back and have you marrying me off to someone I don’t even know,” I cry. “And I refuse to go back to England. If you send me there, I will swim back if I have to,” I threaten.
“I figured as much,” he tells me. “Since you claim you will never marry anyone I find for you, and in that case you would end up my ward forever, I am solving the problem once and for all. After I heard that you were staying here, I went and got a special license. In the next hour you are going to become my wife.”
Wild Irish Rose Page 9
