Only You

by Cheryl Holt

  There was a stone bench underneath it, and Susan was seated on the bench and dipping her head under the cascading flow to wash her hair. Theo was just barely in the pool, her legs planted on the bottom, with the water lapping over her thighs. Though Susan had shown her the middle wasn’t deep, that it was merely up to her chest, Theo wasn’t about to wade out and check for herself.

  “You were gone last night,” she casually said, anxious to broach the subject, but not eager to quarrel.

  “Yes, I was,” Susan replied just as casually.

  “I waited up for you.”

  “You shouldn’t have.”

  “When I finally dozed off, it was very late. I heard you come in, and it must have been a bit before dawn.”

  “Yes, that’s about right,” Susan admitted.

  She was very blasé about it, and Theo was shocked by her nonchalance. There was only one place she could have been.

  “Were you with Mr. Price?”

  “Yes.”

  For a long while, they were silent, with Theo studying her cousin. She yearned to be smarter or wiser so she’d offer the correct comments.

  “What are you thinking, Susan?” she ultimately inquired. “You can’t assume this is appropriate.”

  “It doesn’t concern you, Theo. Don’t work yourself into a lather over it.”

  “What would your mother say? Have you thought of that?”

  “Of course I have.”

  “But Susan, think. You’re putting me in an impossible position. You can’t expect the affair will remain a secret. This will blow up into a disaster. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “If it explodes into a disaster, it will be my disaster,” Susan blithely said. “You needn’t worry, and I certainly won’t apprise Edna that you knew and didn’t stop it.”

  “Oh, Susan, I worry incessantly. Won’t you reconsider?”

  “I don’t want to reconsider.”

  “He’s not the best option for you.”

  “No one’s asked your opinion, Theo.”

  “Are you doing it to spite Edna? Is that why?”

  Susan snorted out a laugh. “Spite Edna? I hardly know the woman. Can you actually suppose I ponder her when I’m making plans? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Are you and Mr. Price making plans? Is that what’s happening”

  “If we are—and I’m not claiming that’s what transpired—I wouldn’t announce my intentions in a bathing pool. I’d proceed in a very public location so I could shout them to the whole world.”

  “You can confide in me, Susan. I wish you would.”

  “That’s the problem for you, Theo. I have no wish to confide in you. You should simply be aware that I’m cognizant of my choices and I’m happy with my decision. Please remember that in the coming weeks.”

  “What does that mean? You could be speaking in code.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  Susan stood and waded across the pond. She passed by Theo, donned her robe, grabbed her other belongings, and continued on. They’d walked over fully dressed and had stripped to their chemises and drawers, being too modest to remove everything.

  Theo had presumed they’d dry off, then dress again, and return to their tent together. As Susan strolled through the break in the ferns that led to the path, Theo called, “Susan, don’t leave me here by myself.”

  “You’ll be fine, Theo. There are no boogiemen lurking in the shadows.”

  “But I want to go with you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to go with you. I have a lot on my mind, and I’ll be busy tonight. Don’t wait up for me and don’t you dare tattle to Edna. You promised you wouldn’t.”

  She vanished, and Theo sighed with exasperation.

  She’d suspected it would be difficult for them to discuss Mr. Price, but Susan wasn’t a dunce. She was exhibiting brazen conduct, and there would be grave consequences if she was caught, but she was willing to risk it. Why? Had Mr. Price proposed? Edna would never agree to the match, and if she didn’t, Susan’s dowry would be forfeit.

  Had Susan clarified that fact for Mr. Price? He was precisely the sort of cad who would chase after a girl for her money. If he was informed that she wouldn’t have any as his bride, would his infatuation suddenly end?

  Then again, if Susan had already engaged in marital acts, wasn’t it too late for Mr. Price to back out? Wasn’t he on the road to matrimony whether he liked it or not?

  Oh, she had to tell Edna! She had to! Yet she was positive Edna would kill the messenger. She’d devise a reason to blame Theo for the imbroglio, then Susan would never forgive her. Their combined animosity would make for a lengthy and exhausting voyage to England.

  She pushed herself farther into the pool, keeping on until the water rose up to her waist.

  “What to do? What to do?” she mumbled to the starry sky, when behind her there was a snicker and footsteps. She whipped around. “Is someone there?”

  She frowned over to where her clothes, towel, and robe had been, then she leapt up and raced over, kicking about on the sand, but they had all disappeared.

  “Fenton!” she muttered, then she shouted, “Fenton! You get back here right now!”

  He didn’t reply, but she sensed him out in the foliage, watching her, silently chortling over his prank.

  When she’d fallen off the boat, Soloman had insisted Fenton deliberately shoved her, but it had occurred so fast that Theo wasn’t sure of the truth, and there’d been no further mischief. She’d thought Fenton had learned his lesson and would be more careful in the future, but apparently he had no desire to cease playing tricks.

  “Fenton, if you don’t return my things at once, I swear—when I find you—I will take a stick to you. Better yet, I’ll have Mr. Grey handle it for me. He has a much stronger arm, and I’m betting he’d be delighted to pitch in.”

  She heard no sound—except perhaps a pair of feet tiptoeing away.

  Soloman was walking down the path to his favorite bathing pool when a woman murmured his name.

  “Soloman.”

  The summons slithered by on a breath of wind, just brushing his ear so it might have been a ghost following him in the dark. He tamped down a shiver as his name was voiced again, a tad more urgently.

  “Soloman!”

  He peered into the foliage, seeing a pair of big blues eyes gazing out at him from among the ferns.

  “Theo? What on earth are you doing?”

  “You will not believe what happened to me now.”

  “Yes, I will. What’s wrong?”

  He moved toward her, but she shrank deeper into the shadows.

  “Please don’t come any closer,” she said.

  “Why not? What is it?”

  “I was bathing.”

  “I was about to myself.”

  “And…well…my clothes seem to have vanished.”

  “Your clothes vanished?”

  “Yes. My towel and robe too. They were folded in a pile behind me, and then they weren’t.”

  “In my experience, inanimate objects don’t trot off of their own volition.”

  “Someone giggled and ran away.”

  “Fenton,” he fumed.

  “Probably.”

  “I will skin him alive.”

  “I’m not certain it was Fenton,” she hastily declared.

  “Don’t defend him to me,” he sharply said.

  “I’m not defending him. I’m simply not sure who it was.”

  “You know it was Fenton. Stop being so gullible. He could have killed you last time he played a prank. Should we permit him to continue until you’re seriously injured?”

  “It’s just clothes, Soloman. It’s not worth starting a huge ruckus—and it’s actually kind of funny.”

  He grinned. “Are you naked?”

  “Near enough.”

  “Let me see.”

  He dropped his towel and soap and stepped off the path, as she quietly scolded, “Soloman! Stay where yo
u are!”

  “I’d really rather not.”

  She was attired in her chemise and drawers, the fabric damp and clinging to her skin so it looked as if she was wearing nothing at all. Instantly, his cock was hard as stone. He was overcome by such a wave of lust that it almost doubled him over.

  Ever since their stirring kisses on the dock the previous evening, he’d pondered her constantly. He’d searched for her all day, hoping he’d bump into her, but she’d remained conspicuously absent.

  In his opinion, they should act on their mutual attraction. Life was short, and they would only be at the camp for a brief interval. He never planned to wed, and she had no husband in her future, so it wasn’t as if she was saving all that fussy virginity for a spouse. Why shouldn’t she toss it in his direction? He’d be thrilled to take it from her.

  “Give me your coat,” she said.

  “We’re in the middle of the desert, Theo. I don’t have a coat.”

  “Then run to your tent and bring me a blanket to cover myself. No, wait. Don’t leave me. I can’t bear to be out here alone.”

  “Why are you alone?”

  “I was with Susan, but I drove her into a snit, and she left without me.”

  “Then Fenton stole your clothes, and you’re stuck.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’d like me to rescue you again.”

  “Yes, if you’d be so gallant as to oblige me?”

  “I think—considering all the effort I expend on your behalf—that I should get a reward for my troubles.”

  “What sort of reward?”

  “Bathe with me.”

  “Bathe? The two of us? In the water together?”

  “Yes. I was just going to wash. Come into the pool with me.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “It’s…indecent.”

  “Yes, it is. But it’s also very exotic and very, very enjoyable.”

  “Someone might see.”

  “Everyone is in bed except us. There’s no one lurking.”

  “Fenton might be.”

  “With how he tricked you, I’m betting he’s hiding outside your tent, eager to watch you slither back.”

  “And if he’s not? If he’s out there somewhere and spying on us?”

  “I’m prepared to risk it. How about you?”

  “I’m not,” she said, but he ignored her.

  He scooped her up and blustered through the ferns and out to the small beach that rimmed the pond.

  “Put me down!” she griped.

  “No. I want my reward.”

  He kept on, continuing into the pool, boots, trousers, and all, wading out to the middle where the depth was up to his waist. He dropped her.

  She sank like a stone, but she quickly found her feet and came up cursing and sputtering. To his delight, she glommed onto him as if she were drowning all over again. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might alarm her, that she might have residual fears from her mishap in the river, and he was almost sorry he’d done it. Almost. From how tightly she was hugging him, it was difficult to muster any remorse.

  “I’m terrified of the water, you oaf!” She wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life.

  “It’s not deep, Theo. Calm down.” He stroked a soothing hand down her back. “Nothing bad can happen to you when you’re with me.”

  “I know. I’m nervous about my accident on the boat, and it will take me awhile to recover from it.”

  “You’re with me. You’re fine.”

  “Don’t let go of me.”

  “I won’t.” She relaxed, her torso cuddled to him so he could feel every delicious inch, and he muttered, “Oh, mercy, mercy, Theo. What am I to do with you?”

  He carried her to the other side, to the rock bench by the waterfall. He sat down and brought her down with him. She was on her knees and straddling his lap, so her breasts were right in his face. He couldn’t resist.

  He pulled her to him and latched onto a pert nipple. He sucked and played, and for a fleet minute, she allowed it. But then, she had to butt in and complain.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t dally with you again.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s wrong.”

  “The preachers say so. Shrewish old women too, but I never listen to any of them.”

  “When I’m around you, I’m so anxious to misbehave.”

  “Really?”

  “All I think about is you, Soloman! You drive me mad.”

  “With lust?”

  “Well…with something. I don’t know what I’d call it.”

  “I just ruined a perfectly good pair of boots because of you.”

  “You didn’t have to wade in with your clothes on.”

  “Should I have stripped myself naked first?”

  “If you had, I’d have expired from shock.”

  “If all it takes to be with you like this is the loss of a pair of boots, I’m happy.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  She sighed with contentment, her body snuggled to his chest. She rested there for a bit, while he reflected on his pathetically weak character.

  Why was he trifling with her? Temporary insanity had goaded him into it. What if Fenton was out there watching them? What if a servant had seen? What if they told Edna?

  The prospects for calamity didn’t bear contemplating, yet he’d involved himself in another clandestine tryst with her. He gazed up at the stars and couldn’t believe it when he asked, “Do you ever wish you were someone else with a different past?”

  “I wish it all the time.”

  “If you could choose any new path, what would it be?”

  “I’d be a bohemian artist in Paris. I’d rent a small flat, and I’d paint all day on the pretty sidewalks. I’d dine on excellent food and I’d drink fine wine, and I’d have dozens of interesting friends who were artists too.”

  “Have you any talent as an artist?”

  She laughed. “No, none.”

  “So it’s definitely a dream.”

  “Yes.” She grinned at him. “How about you? If you could snap your fingers and change your identity, who would you be?”

  “I’d probably have everything return to how it was before…before…” He stopped and shook his head. “I don’t mean that. I loathed my life in London, and I’d never go back to it.”

  “I thought you liked your father.”

  “Yes, I liked him, but that was about it. Every other aspect was horrid.”

  He’d liked his father’s beautiful young wife too, had liked her to the point that he was ashamed of his relationship with her after his father had died. She’d been amenable to any illicit conduct, and he’d greedily accepted what she’d offered. But it was during a period when they should have been in full mourning.

  He’d always viewed that short, unrestrained interval as the genuine indicator of the sort of man he was deep down. He was the sort who’d engage in a salacious liaison with his deceased father’s widow and the poor fellow not yet cold in the ground. He had no scruples or sense.

  He couldn’t stand to recollect that era, for it left him morose. When he was sitting with a very fetching, very wet Theodosia Postlewaite, there was no reason to focus on any negative topic.

  He drew down the front of her chemise, as she scolded, “Soloman!”

  “Hush, Theo.”

  He studied her bared breasts, massaged them, cradled them in his palms to test their size and weight. Then he sucked a nipple into his mouth. He tortured her—and himself—for a very long while, but he didn’t do much more than that. He could have given her a bit of pleasure, but decided not to.

  She constantly aroused him to a painful level, and he felt it was only fair to leave her in the same unsatisfied state.

  Eventually, he pulled away, and she was smiling, looking like a cat that had lapped up all the cream. Her glorious blond hair was curled over her shoulders, her skin gliste
ning with water droplets. The moon was up behind her, illuminating her in a silvery glow.

  “You could be an ancient river goddess,” he told her.

  “What a lovely compliment.”

  “I don’t dish them out very often, so enjoy that one while it lasts.”

  “You always pretend you’re horrid.”

  “I’m not pretending.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  He tugged up the straps of her chemise, covering her breasts, then he stood her on her feet. He stood too.

  “Let’s get you to your tent,” he said.

  “I was just starting to have fun.”

  “Don’t tell me that.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? It’s true.”

  “You make me eager to do things I shouldn’t. You make me think I could talk you into them without too much trouble.”

  “Where you’re concerned, I’m such easy prey.”

  “And I haven’t even begun to work my wicked wiles on you.”

  “I’m certain you’d be incredibly successful.”

  “Would I be? Perhaps I should press a little harder to obtain what I desire.”

  “Or perhaps you should behave yourself.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Neither do I,” she confessed.

  She slipped her hand into his and linked their fingers as if they were adolescent sweethearts.

  “What’s your opinion about sneaking over to visit me tonight?” he asked.

  “My opinion is that you’re insane to suggest it.”

  “Is that a no?”

  “That’s an absolute no.”

  “You can’t blame me for trying. One of these times, I might receive a different response.”

  She chuckled. “Keep hope alive, Soloman.”

  “I will.”

  “You haven’t made any plans to depart, have you?”

  “No. So far, Preston is content to dawdle.”

  “And dig a hole for himself,” she scoffed. “I can’t expect his relationship with Susan will end in a good way.”

  “No, it won’t,” he agreed. “Is that why your cousin was in a snit earlier? Were you quarreling about it?”

  “Yes, and since I’m ruined and disgraced, she claims I’m not in any position to lecture her.”

  “Were you lecturing her?”

  “No, I was merely warning her to be careful.”

  “You’d be a person who would understand the consequences.”