by Gina Danna
* * *
To my favorite dancer, I hear you love to ride. I will collect you late
morning and we will indulge in your love.
Yours respectfully, T. McHenry, III
* * *
She couldn’t contain the squeal of excitement, though she caught Aunt Lila’s glare out of the corner of her eye.
“You best mind your manners, missy. And don’t go looking to attract any white man’s attention. They’re all full of mischief.”
She did her best not to giggle too loudly yet lost. “I’ll do my best.” Inside, though, she jumped with joy.
Thomas sat regally on his horse, realizing he clutched the reins tighter than needed to be, as Jaquita settled into her sidesaddle, adjusting her skirts. He noted her riding outfit was a simple design of navy-blue wool with glass blue buttons and green piping. Her riding hat was black, the netting navy and the feather that draped down the back a mixture of black, blue and green. Surprisingly, the darker colors lightened her skin tones, which played in his head. She could almost pass for white and somehow, he figured, that would not make her happy.
“How did you hear of me riding?”
He smiled. “Your stable lad and mine are brothers.”
Her eyes widened as she replied, “Oh, dear.”
“Alex is a good lad. It was not bad tidings.”
“I see,” she stated, nudging her stallion to start walking. As they turned the corner at the end of the drive, she added, “What else did he say?”
“Oh, that you like to run fast.” He winked. That motion set a myriad of emotions crossing her eyes, from what he could tell, and he watched in amazement in that split second from his comment to her grabbing her own reins tight, she was off like a lightning bolt down the dirt street. It made him steer his mount in the same direction, urging the gelding to kick into gear to reach her.
He chased her down the street and into the open greens beyond. His gelding matched her stallion in speed and then, when she caught his eye with a surprised look, he grinned and cut her horse off, turning them left. Even as the breeze roared past him, he could hear the faint echoes of her growl followed by the thunder of hooves as her mount kicked into high gear.
Over the dale they raced. He knew where he wanted to go and urged her to continue until he reached that point. The devil inside him was pushing him but how could he not? There was something about this woman he simply could not ignore.
As the raced down the worn path, the trees parted and a stream lay ahead. She was catching up and he knew it. The smile on his lips could not be contained as he pulled his horse up, despite the gelding’s drive to win. With the stream so close, they both had to pull back hard on the reins before they found themselves in the middle of the water.
The horses snorted loudly, her stallion pawed the ground, his tail arched in a glorious array of black hair. Thomas noted the equine was of smaller stature, like he was built for a fragile beauty on his back. His dish face held an elegance Thomas hadn’t seen, his movements like a dance. Whereas he’d expect a lady would have difficult with this agile animal, Jaquita kept her seat, her hands on the reins tight but not overly so as she shhhhh’ed him quietly, like a whisper. Her steed listened, as did Thomas’s, and both horses soon stood, waiting for the next command.
“That is quite an animal,” Thomas noted, sliding off his horse, dropping the reins and walking over to help her dismount.
“He is my pride and joy. He is an Arabian, one my father got years ago, and gave to me. His name is Maximus.” She grinned broadly as she patted the stallion’s withers.
“Maximus? Rather Roman name for an Arab horse.”
She shrugged. “Aristotle seemed a bit too tame for him.” She looked around. “Rather rude of you to cut me off, I’ll have you know. And where are we?”
Thomas chuckled. “Perhaps but I wanted to come this way, and with you in the lead, I had a hard time telling you to turn.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You started the race.”
Hardly, he thought, but didn’t say it. “We’re actually in the northeast corner of the McHenry estates. My father bought a rather large land mass here and added on over the years. Rather cumbersome piece, one he planned to divide with his children. Alas, that’s just me, so I have a rather immense green space.”
“It’s lovely.” She peered over the greens. “Is that a house?”
“Yes. A vacant one. Guest house, really. A step maybe above plain. Originally the home to my grandmother when she was living. She tired of the mansion and wished for a cottage.” He shrugged. “Haven’t used it in years, though it is in good shape. I’d thought we’d have lunch there.”
She was halfway to the door. “Wonderful. Riding makes me hungry.”
He was hungry too, though his appetite wasn’t for food…
The inside of the cottage was plain to someone like Thomas, she figured, but it was elaborate compared to the slave shanties in the South. The wood plank flooring was in the slave quarters at Bellefountaine home, though this one had a shine to it of polish and fitted snuggly together. The plastered walls were painted alabaster blue and the windows were more numerous than a slave’s quarters and had real glass panes. The fireplace was tiled with ceramic pieces that had a floral design on them. The furniture in this cottage was maybe sparse but it was real, not like the makeshift pieces the slaves fabricated for theirs. All in all, she wanted to laugh at the white man’s attempt to tell her how it was outdated or left vacant, indicating near nothing, but in her mind, when placed next to a Black man’s house, it was grand. It was a difference even this lawyer who wanted slavery abolished would never understand.
A large wicker basket sat on the floor, near the fireplace. She noted the quilt on the floor for a ‘picnic’. Slowly, she smiled. The thought that he had hoped she’d ride with him and be open to this sent a thrill up her spine.
“It’s quite lovely. And I think you had a plan.”
He laughed. “Perhaps. Here, let me take your wrap.” Along with his frock coat, he placed her outer garments on the settee and then turned to the basket. With a whisk, he pulled out a bottle of wine.
“So why would you seek my company?” She couldn’t help the words, despite her inner voice telling her to be quiet and enjoy the repast. “I mean, this is all very grand, but don’t you have a job to do?”
The cork popped out and he chuckled again. “I do have a few law cases to work on and a steady, planned agenda for most of my life. It can be rather dull and boring. Then I met you. A beautiful and vivacious woman who pushes for rights that she expects are hers and doesn’t let the others win. That lioness part of you attracted me from the moment I first met you.” He handed her a glass of the ruby red wine. “A woman I wanted to know.”
She took a sip. It was exquisite. “New York is filled with many ladies who could offer you the same desire. Ones more acceptable for you to seek.”
“Ah, but that’s the reason. I don’t search for acceptable. I want real.” He took her wine glass and set it aside, pulling her into his arms and kissed her.
Jaquita wasn’t expecting this. But the moment he invaded her lips, she knew at once that same desire he was explaining. She slipped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss in full. It was heady and she drank him in, pressing herself against him.
He broke from her lips and started to kiss her jawline, back toward one ear, his teeth skating along her skin. His touch started a fire inside her, making every nerve alive and pulsing insanely. One hand came to undo the buttons on her bodice and when she realized that was what he was up to, she had to help. She couldn’t breathe with it all cinched up, and she was so hot, she feared she’d faint. As the bodice opened, he shoved it off her shoulders, freeing her of the piece as he resumed kissing her neckline.
The riding outfit was one piece and with the bodice hanging off her back, the weight of the wool increased. Or perhaps that really was from his fiery kisses. And then instantly, the weight dropped as
he undid the hook at her waist and the dress fell without the crinoline to keep it up. Only her corded petticoat remained of her skirting. leaving Jaquita in her undergarments before a dressed man. Her thoughts jumbled when her inner voice screamed that would not do!
To correct the balance between them, she pulled back and started undoing his waistcoat. A glance at his eyes revealed everything. His blue eyes looked black and hooded and his whole body was rigid. She couldn’t help but grin, despite her racing blood.
“You, dear sir, are overly attired.”
Quickly, he joined her in undoing the buttons and the waistcoat and then his necktie and shirt all sailed to the floor. But when her fingers went to his trousers, he grabbed them to stop.
“My dearest Jaquita, we are now treading on grounds over which we may regret going.” His voice held a deep and husky tone, a delicious sound that made her insides molten.
“You’re telling me now that you do not want me?” She was confused. Her body was now a furnace and only his attention could cool it, yet he didn’t want to?
He laughed, pulling her tight against him. “Oh yes, I do. And badly.” He kissed her hard, like a man on fire, devouring her.
He lowered them to the floor, on top of the blanket. With a hard push, the basket tumbled out of their way. She couldn’t help but smile as he loomed over her, his fingers tracing the top of her chemise.
“Now is the time to stop me or be forever mine.”
Chapter 14
“As to disunion, nobody but silly people believe it will happen.”
—William Cullen Bryant, The New York editor, echoing the majority of Republicans feelings post the 1860 election.
He wanted her to stop him. Was on the verge of begging her to. But she lay beneath him, frocked in white cotton undergarments, breathing heavily so her breasts pushed against the corset and the mounds peeking above the chemise made the wolf inside him growl with hunger. He wanted her badly and his manhood throbbed so hard, if she said no, he’d probably die in pain.
Instead, her hand slipped around his neck and cupped the back of his head, pulling him back down to kiss her again and all was lost. He bathed her in kisses and small bites on her neck. Within seconds, he untied the cord at her waist, undid the busk to her corset freeing her, and unbuttoned waistband to the corded petticoat, pushing it down over her hips to free her of the contraption around her waist. He continued kissing her as he pulled the chemise up over her head to toss the piece aside and exposed her naked upper body to him. Her pearled nipples called to him, the mounded flesh beneath glowed and the narrow waist hinted at the delights below still covered in the loose petticoat. He wasted no time in shedding that off her, exposing her whole being, wearing only black cotton stockings and black riding boots.
She was a dark Aphrodite and he was totally under her spell. “You are so beautiful.”
Her cheeks pinkened and the glow over her made his insides tighten harder. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. But she didn’t just return his kiss. Her nimble fingers started on his drawers’ buttons and when her fingertips skated over his manhood, he nearly exploded. Quickly, he flipped them back over so she was back on her back and he pulled up, trying to keep her eyes on him. Of course, that didn’t work. They looked down at his hardened member. He feared she’d withdraw because he knew he was in pain from the erection and that’d turn it red.
Instead, she gave him a half smile with a wink and wrapped her hand around him. The feel of her on his cock nearly sent him over the edge. “Be careful, darling.”
“I will,” she cooed. Then she gasped when he found her core and slipped his finger in. Instinctively, her thighs parted more and her hips tipped back. She was wet and open and he couldn’t help it. He poised the head of his cock at her slit and stopped.
“I want you.” It was a rasp, he knew, but this wasn’t the time to regret joining with her.
Her hazel eyes were dark brown with desire. Placing her hands on his hips, she pulled him into her. She was wet but tight and as he pushed deeper, she yelped. To get past her virginal seal, he thrust all the way as his mouth encased hers to swallow her scream. He stopped and gave her the moment to adjust. When he felt her squirm a tad, he began to move.
In and out they danced, hips meeting then separating. It was languorous at first until the need took control. The faster they moved, deeper he went. She mewled when he pulled back and he moaned when he slid back in. The heat between them skyrocketed and so did their desire. Her nails dug into his back and he relished every ounce of the pain they caused. Over and over and over they melded and pulled back until her core tightened so tight around him, he plunged in and exploded his seed inside of her right as he felt her core shatter.
Completed, he collapsed on top of her, gasping for air. It was jubilant, ecstasy and within a minute, he feared he’d made a big mistake.
Jaquita couldn’t breathe. Her whole world had exploded into stars in her head when she released. The entire lovemaking had been so bright and fulfilling. Now she understood why parents protected their daughters and it made her want to laugh and cry, because as a mulatto child, not free but not slaved, she wasn’t protected. It was an odd feeling but she decided to toss it aside for now.
“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
She winced. “Yes. Perhaps a bit sore.”
“Sorry about that. You’ll be worse later.” He kissed her lips in a chaste kiss and rolled away, collecting his clothes.
She perched herself up off the blanket, watching him pull his drawers back up. “I’m still hungry.”
He stopped and gave her an odd smile with a half laugh. “We will eat and then return.” He tossed her the chemise. “Perhaps we should dress. Catching a cold from prancing in our birthing suits might cause talk.”
She raised her brows. “I guess you’re right.”
They dressed and quickly devoured the bread and cheese he had brought. The wine didn’t last long either.
As she re-pinned her hair, thankful that she could pile most of it up under the crown of her hat, she cast him a slanted gaze.
“You regret what we did.”
He was picking up their dishes and stopped. In a moment, he was at her side, taking her in his arms and kissed her so deeply, she couldn’t breathe and was crushed by his tight embrace.
“Now, does that answer your question?”
Men!
3 Days Later
* * *
Thomas yawned. He was too tired to think law so he threw the papers he’d been trying to read back on his desk and rubbed his eyes. The reason for his exhaustion wasn’t work but Jaquita. Since their ride and lovemaking, he was caught in her spell. After that day, he tried to stay away from her, because what good would come of it? He was a white lawyer, hopefully a senator where he could push the abolition of slavery through as law. But she was colored and came from the South. He’d look no better than any slave owner taking advantage of his chattel and that thought made his blood boil.
Memories of her laughter, of how she made him smile, of her determination and how beautiful she was flooded his mind and before he knew it, he was back calling on her. They’d gone to lunch, to dinner, to shop, for long walks and it was only three days! He shook his head, feeling like he was on the road, but which way? Hell or Heaven?
“Knock, knock.”
Thomas blinked and looked up. It was Frederick and he had a strange look on his face.
“Come in. What is wrong?”
“Who said anything was wrong?” the tall German Anglo asked, plopping himself down in the leather-bound chair on the other side of the desk.
“The look on your face.”
“Ah, yes, well, you haven’t been here when we needed to be discussing your campaign.”
Thomas leaned back in his chair, narrowing his gaze. “I thought you were handling that.”
“Yes, and you need to be involved. Word has it no one has heard a peep out of you since that abolitionist fundraiser
you attended.”
“I have been busy. I do work, you know.” Frankly, he had forgotten about the election.
“Yes, and I’ve also been told of a certain lady you’ve been keeping time with. A lovely, but Black, lady. A Miss Fontaine.” Frederick glared. “Look, I understand playing the abolitionist hand is noteworthy, but not at exclusion of everything else.”
“Her family has money,” he tried. “Donations would be a benefit.”
“Her ‘family’ are Southerners. Doubtful they’d send money for a Northern senator running with a platform to eliminate their ‘chattel’.”
Thomas’s jaw tightened. “I enjoy her company.”
“All well and good and even from a political standpoint, of being for freeing the slaves, perhaps commendable, however,” Frederick argued. “As a bachelor, you need a wife more compatible to today’s voters, like Miss Lancaster. I’ve heard word you’ve been sighted with her on occasion.”
Inwardly, Thomas cringed. Allison. “Yes, she was at that abolitionist ball with me.” Well, he met her there. She’d come to surprise him and she sure did. It put a damper on his evening as he couldn’t see Jaquita again before the night was through with her tagging along with him.
“Your father has hinted at a hidden romance there. If I were you, and she willing, that would be an ideal candidate. Her family is wealthy and a great influence in the area.” Frederick smiled smugly, sitting back in his chair.
Thomas wanted to roll his eyes but refrained. Yes, his father had suggested her as well on repeated times. Despite her being pleasant, even attractive, Allison was also too forward and demanding. How could he marry her when his heart called for Jaquita? And almost on cue, there was another knock at his opened door.
“Thomas, good afternoon!” Allison greeted, then saw Frederick. “I hope I’m not intruding. My father had an appointment with your father, so I thought I’d stop in to say hello.”
