Crystal Passion

by Jo Goodman

  She took the plate Salem slipped her and began filling it with a bit of every dish, unaware of her husband's amusement. When she approached the desserts she was dismayed to find there was scant room on her plate for even the smallest portion of berry pie.

  "D'you think I've been too greedy?" she asked, looking down at her plate in disgust. "I didn't realize I was so hungry until I saw all this food."

  Salem laughed. "You're eating for two, quite possibly three."

  Ashley hastily looked around her to see if anyone overheard. When she saw they were not attracting any particular attention she sidled closer to Salem and very casually trod upon his toes. "Mind your manners or our children's father will be a cripple."

  "Oh-ho! What's this?" asked a portly gentleman who had appeared from nowhere, much to Ashley's chagrin and Salem's unholy amusement. "Are you planning your family already?" He didn't wait for an answer or take note of Ashley's embarrassment but good-naturedly spoke to the crowd at large. "Young people have no sense of getting to know one another anymore. The courtship lasts a day and they're married before they discover they don't even like one another."

  "He speaks from experience," his wife noted dryly as she dragged him away from the laughing gathering.

  "That will teach you when to speak," Salem said solemnly as if he were imparting some great piece of wisdom. "Now if you will kindly remove your dainty foot from my shoe I believe I can lead you somewhere peaceful where we can eat our meal undisturbed."

  It took them more than a few minutes to reach their destination. It seemed they only made a few steps forward before they were engaged in a series of conversations with small groups of guests who filled every available space. Ashley had to admit that the celebration did not seem to be dimmed by the unfavorable weather. Everyone appeared quite content to make the best of the conditions. People were eating on the stairs, balancing their plates on their knees. Some had placed their dishes on the mantles and were enjoying a vociferous political discussion while they picked at their food and waved butter knives in the air. A few intrepid souls had climbed the ladder to the library loft and were eating their fare on the polished oak deck while their legs dangled over the edge.

  But no one, not a single person, had dared to brave Tildy's kitchen. It took Salem's considerable guile and charm and finally his single-dimpled grin before Tildy consented to let them hide out in her pantry. She even brought them glasses and a bottle of wine before shutting the door on them.

  "Won't they wonder where we've gone?" Ashley asked when she was seated on a crate of apples.

  Salem was perched comfortably above her on a barrel of flour. "Let them wonder," he said grandly. "Tildy won't betray us, and we don't have to return until the music starts. Here, have a taste of this squab." He waved a bit of the succulent meat in front of her, and when she giggled he managed to pop it in her mouth. He raised his dark eyebrows thoughtfully as Ashley's pink tongue came out to lick a drop of juice from her lips. "This mode of eating has tantalizing possibilities."

  Seeing the gleam in his eye Ashley firmly shook her head and pointed to his plate. "I refuse to do anything that will encourage my ravishment in a pantry."

  "In that case you shouldn't have followed me in here."

  She remained unmoved and slapped his fingers away when he tried to spear a small piece of her ham. "Eat. From your own plate."

  "You're a shrew, Mrs. McClellan."

  She nodded absently, intent on her food. "That sounds rather nice, doesn't it? Not the shrew part. I mean my name. Mrs. McClellan. Ashley McClellan"

  "Very nice."

  "Don't you think it was a lovely ceremony?"

  "I don't recall much of it."

  Her eyes widened. "Never say you were nervous."

  "I wasn't. Terrified more accurately describes what I was feeling."

  "I can't credit it. You looked so calm; you gave me the courage to come down those stairs. I remember thinking how handsome you looked and how your eyes held me. Few things in my life have been as perfect as the moment you held out your hand for me. I shall never forget it."

  "And I shall never forget the moment you took it. Until then I was afraid I had imagined you. You didn't look quite real, you know, at the top of the stairs. You were exceedingly lovely. You still are—even sitting on top of a crate stuffing your mouth with buttered peas."

  She swallowed and laughed. "There's no need to try to flatter me, you rogue. I swear to you I can't remember when I've been this hungry."

  "I'm glad to see you eating again. Not too long ago I despaired of that happening. Does the babe still make you ill?"

  "Not for over a week. I expect he, she, or they have settled in." Salem grinned, obviously liking the idea. "You know your kiss lasted an unconscionably long time," she scolded lightly, remembering his exuberant affection. "Did you see how the minister looked at you afterward?"

  "That was envy."

  "That was shock."

  "You were provoking."

  "I was provoked."

  "You tasted like honey and smelled of roses." His eyes fell on the small bunch of pink rosebuds at the swell of her breasts. "Shouldn't you undo that lacy thing? Aren't you worried you may be scratched?"

  "You mean the rosebuds? Heavens no. Your mother made certain there were no thorns when she gave them to Meg to attach."

  "No thorns you say?" Salem's brows wiggled in a parody of desire that made Ashley laugh.

  "Fie on you! I told you I will not be seduced in the pantry. Now keep your thoughts on a chaste plane and pour me a small measure of wine." She held out her glass expectantly.

  "I wonder if all women become so bossy upon saying their vows," Salem said, pouring her a generous sampling.

  "I shouldn't doubt it. Oh, stop there! If I drink as much as that I shall be all undone. I have no head for spirits." She smiled at him knowingly, sipping from her glass. "But you suspected as much, didn't you? I do believe you are trying to get me foxed."

  Salem hopped off the flour barrel and knelt at Ashley's feet, relieving her of the wine glass. There was a faint upward curve to his mouth but his eyes were serious. "Believe me, my love, the last thing I want is for you to be foxed. What we share now and what we will share later is for remembering. And I want no part of it dulled by drink."

  Ashley could only stare at the familiar darkening of Salem's heavily lashed eyes. When he was this close she didn't need wine to dull her good sense: His presence did that, while honing her every desire to a fine edge. Her small hands rested on either side of his neck, and she could feel the warm throb of his pulse. When she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't think it's quite fair that you should make me want you so much."

  Her face dropped nearer his own so that his breath caressed her mouth. "Do you really mind?" he asked.

  "No, I don't suppose that I do. Kiss me."

  His mouth lovingly captured hers, tasting the hint of wine that lingered there. He sipped at her lips until he felt her tongue tease the edge of his teeth. With a small groan he pushed himself upright, pulling Ashley with him. Her empty plate and silverware clattered to the floor between them, but the noise made no impact. Salem's hands swept down Ashley's slim back in a light caress, urging her closer to him. Without protest she allowed herself to be fitted snugly against his hard contours. The rosebuds at her breasts were very nearly crushed against his chest, but Ashley had no thought for anything except the feel of Salem's heated body against hers. A lilting melody drifted to her ears from far away and she smiled against the mouth pressing hers, blissfully unaware the soft music was not of her own making.

  She whimpered when he drew back his lips a fraction. "Please," she implored quietly. "Kiss me again."

  Rather than comply Salem turned her head so she could rest her cheek against his shoulder. He held her there while his chin nuzzled her hair. "Shh, dearest, with all my heart I'd like to kiss you. But the musicians have started playing, and Tildy will be tossing us out of here with no regard for w
hat we would rather be about." He felt Ashley's reluctant nod against his chest and slowly released her. He frowned when she didn't look at him but bent instead to pick up her plate. When he said her name she ignored him, gathering his plate and cutlery.

  "Ashley, look at me. What has upset you?"

  She turned her back on him and went to the pantry door. "I think we should join the others now." Each word was carefully pronounced, as though with great effort Salem's hands covered Ashley's wrist, stopping her from opening the door. He got rid of the plates and turned her, pinning her stiff spine to the door. "I think we should talk," he said evenly. "Look at me."

  She lifted her head and glared at him mutinously. The look would have been more effective if her eyes hadn't been bright with tears.

  "Why are you crying?"

  Ashley took a deep breath. "I am not crying. At least not yet I shall manage quite well if we leave now."

  "I don't doubt it. But then I won't know what has hurt you, and it seems to me this is precisely the sort of thing I should understand."

  "I wi-wish you w-weren't so nice sometimes."

  Salem failed to understand her logic, but he was prepared to go along with it. "I promise to beat you later if it will help," he said earnestly, pleased when Ashley gave him a watery smile. "Tell me what has upset you."

  "You shall think me a veritable thick-wit when I tell you."

  "No, I won't. I promise."

  "I didn't hear the music. I mean I heard it, but not the way you did."

  "I don't think I understand."

  "Of course you don't. You never get so dizzy that you can't think straight."

  "I beg to differ. I am dizzy right now. Can you explain yourself a bit more clearly for my muddled head?"

  She sniffed. "It's only right that you get muzzy when we talk, for I get muzzy when we kiss."

  Salem thought about that "And you think I don't."

  "I know you don't. You knew the music was coming from the players. I thought it was something I was dreaming. You never forget where you are. I never remember."

  "I see." His face was grave but his silver eyes were bright with suppressed amusement.

  "Don't you laugh at me, Jerusalem McClellan. I never wanted to be kissed in this pantry. If you recall, I tried to avoid it. Then you got so close and melted me with your eyes, and I just fell into your arms like some green girl." Her face was forlorn.

  "You are a green girl," he reminded her gently. He followed Ashley's eyes as they dropped to her abdomen. Salem lowered his arms from either side of her head and placed his palms very lightly where she directed. He could feel the faint swell of her belly through the white silk of her gown. He shook his head. "Not a girl," he amended with quiet sincerity. "And not so green. Ashley, did you think I was simply playing with your tender feelings when I kissed you?"

  "You kiss me 'til I can't think properly then you stop as if it were of no bother to you at all."

  Salem opened his mouth to answer but a knock at the door interrupted him.

  "Yo' mama is lookin' for you, Master Salem. Everybody's waitin' for the dancin' to begin."

  "Just another minute, Tildy," Salem said impatiently, his full attention on his bride. "I had not thought I was such a fine actor," he told her. "It bothered me a great deal to stop kissing you, and when you asked me to continue I felt as if the breath had been driven from my lungs. Perhaps it was wrong of me to touch you in the first place, for I knew we could not go on as we might wish to, yet you drive reason from my head at times."

  "Master Salem! There's gonna be trouble if'n you don't git yo'self out of my kitchen. Miss Rae was just back here and she knows somethin's goin' on. I never was one to tell a lie like some folks I could mention."

  "It's very bad of you to hint at my past, Tildy. I need a little longer. My bride and I are having a disagreement."

  "Never heard of such a thing. Arguin' on yo' wedding day. That don' sound good. Don' sound right at all."

  Salem touched Ashley's cheek with the back of his fingers. "Do you understand that I feel things, too? I would never intentionally toy with what you feel for me."

  Ashley turned his hand and kissed his palm. "I told you I was being thick-witted."

  "No, you said I would find you so. And I don't. But in many ways you're still an innocent, in need of certain reassurances and understanding. I wish that you would not hesitate to speak when something bothers you."

  "You will do the same?"

  "I will."

  When Tildy called for Salem again and there was no answer she took it upon herself to open the pantry door. "My, my, my. I always tol' my Jacob that kissin' was a good dressin' for any kind of wound. Now that you two is all made up, how about gettin' out of my kitchen so's the dancin' can start? Lordy, Master Salem, didn't you git enough to eat? Behave yo'self. Miss Ashley ain't no apple tart."

  Some minutes later Ashley and Salem were leading the guests in the familiar patterns of a country dance. Amid comments that the bride looked serene and lovely, particularly in contrast to the groom who seemed to be a bit ruffled at the edges, Salem kept his eyes from making direct contact with Ashley's. When the steps of the dance brought her close to him he concentrated on some point beyond her head. She was not doing anything to help, he noticed grimly. She was deliberately trying to catch his eye, and if she did that he knew he would start laughing and quite possibly never stop.

  He raised her hand and she floated toward him in time with the music. "Don't you dare smile," he muttered between lips that barely moved. "Don't look at me. Don't smile. Don't laugh."

  "But, Salem—" The dance called for a change of partners and Ashley was swept away.

  Salem matched his steps to Martha Washington's. "I'm very pleased you could be here," he said sincerely.

  Martha's gentle smile warmed him. "I never considered not attending your wedding. I only wish that—"

  Salem squeezed her hand. "We all wish the general could be with you now, ma'am. Have you heard from him of late?"

  "Just before I left Mt. Vernon I had a missive. He writes that the army has no discipline, therefore it has no soul. He wonders if the men will make a regular army. Munitions are in short supply; they have not more than nine cartridges a man."

  "So few? Each British regular carries sixty."

  "I know." Her voice was not despairing, rather it seemed to speak matter-of-factly to the obstacles her husband would have to surmount. It was clear she did not doubt his ability to do so. Before Salem could reply, it was time to change partners. He broke his step to kiss Martha's cheek lightly. "Rake," she said affectionately. "Go partner your wife and forget our discussion for now. Your lovely bride seems most anxious to catch your eye."

  "She's jealous of you."

  "Flatterer."

  Salem smiled roguishly, and passed Martha on to her waiting partner. It took several more movements of the dance before Ashley was back in hand. He only had to glimpse the devilry in her eyes to know she had not forgotten the incident in the pantry. Just a fleeting thought of it brought a twitch to his lips.

  Ashley's lips twitched in response.

  Salem's dimple appeared.

  Mocking him, Ashley poked her cheek with her index finger.

  "It was rather funny, wasn't it?" he said.

  "You should have come up for air when Tildy told you I wasn't an apple tart," she said wisely, just holding back her laughter.

  "I believed I had more time. I mean, you aren't a cherry or peach tart either. I hoped she would elaborate on her theme. She seems to have grown rather laconic in her old age." He sighed, shaking his head as if puzzling over a matter of grave importance. "Who would have thought she could still swing a broom like that, after all these years? And so accurately."

  That was all Ashley needed to release the bubble of laughter that was hovering on her lips. She would never forget Salem's shocked face when Tildy landed her broom bristles on his backside. Ashley had to bite her lip to keep from howling right there.
r />   "You're not going to be able to control yourself, are you?" She shook her head as silent laughter shook her slender frame. Salem began to lead her from the dance floor while some of the guests began to laugh at Ashley's infectious mirth.

  "If—if only—the bristles—hadn't—"

  "Mrs. McClellan." But he was grinning too and she knew it.

  "Hadn't stuck in your—"

  "Say it. I dare you."

  "Posterior. You—you looked like a—a hedgehog with its quills up."

  No one really understood anything Ashley said. Only Salem, and Tildy had she been there, could have explained her garbled speech, but it was clear to all that the bride was enjoying herself at her new husband's expense. The crowd smiled indulgently when Salem hugged Ashley fiercely and then picked her up by the waist and spun her, laughing. When he set her down there was no mistaking the gleam in his eye or the loving in his voice as he threatened to give as good as he got. The bride seemed shamelessly disappointed that she would have to wait before the promise was delivered upon, but she had no choice as her father-in-law chose that moment claim her for a dance.

  As the evening progressed Ashley and Salem had few moments together. When Salem was free Ashley was dancing with some member of his family, or worse, one of his friends bent on making him jealous, and succeeding very nicely. While Ashley pleaded fatigue and took refreshment at the punch bowl, she had the dubious pleasure of watching Salem escort a few of the young women who had hoped to be in her dainty slippers someday. Later, when he took Rae, then Leah, out on the floor, she tried not to show her relief.

  At last he came to claim her. But not for a dance.

  Ashley set her glass aside and began to slowly back away from the intent in her husband's eyes. She glanced around, looking for help among the guests.

  "Noah? I believe your brother intends to carry me off."

  "Yes," Noah said thoughtfully. "I believe that's what he plans."