She helped him with his breeches, kissing her way erotically along his hard, muscular body.
"Enough." He moved her up to him, pulling her between his legs, rubbing against her. Isabeau closed her eyes, caught between the heaven of wanting and the hell of waiting. She wanted him right now.
"Pierce." The whisper was a plea and a demand.
Flesh meeting flesh, the heat almost too unbearable. The gentleness was gone, but she didn't want it, she was as wild as Pierce. Their time was limited, she knew it. A part of her had resolved to grab whatever she could.
Isabeau met him equally, arms tight as she pulled him closer, closer, wanting it all. They were both ensnared as the tide pulled them away, then settled them gently back in reality, together.
#
A thumping at the door woke Isabeau for the second time. Groggily, she extended her arm but found the bed beside her empty.
She rolled over, taking the sheets with her. The light was fully in the room now. She had no idea what time it was, but early morning was well gone, she knew that much.
"Wake up, you've slept long enough." Malry was at the door. "Cap'n sent me up to tell you we're leaving in thirty minutes."
"I'll be right down." Jumping from the bed, Isabeau hopped about, jerking her skirt up over her hips. Luckily, she was a whiz at getting dressed fast.
A smile curved her lips as she paused dreamily, her thoughts turning to her earlier wake up call.
Apparently, Pierce had not dared to come to her room again, but had sent Malry instead.
Isabeau decided she liked the first wakeup call much better.
She was downstairs in the dining room in five minutes.
Malry grumbled to Pierce about the delay. When she appeared in the doorway, smiling, he did a double take and immediately shut his mouth.
"I'm ready."
Pierce pulled a chair out for her. "Have something to eat first. Mrs. Hoslen is preparing a wonderful breakfast." He looked down the table. "Ah, here she is now."
Pierce rose to help the woman carry in the heavy, food-laden tray, then placed it on a sideboard beside Isabeau.
"We have kidneys, mushrooms, devilled chicken legs. Perhaps some brain fritters?" He was looking at Isabeau.
She looked doubtfully at the assortment of food, most of which she did not recognize. "Really, I'd just like some toast and tea." She helped herself from the racks of toast on the table.
"Malry?"
The other man looked over the appetizing array of food, then pulled a chair over and sat down across from Pierce and Isabeau.
"Might as well," he grumbled, grabbing a plate and filling it. "We're late enough getting started as it is. What's another hour? Pass me some of those fritters, will you?"
#
They arrived in Virginia on a day that would remain memorable to Isabeau. The weather was balmy, the fragrance of lilacs sweetly clinging as their coach stopped in front of Hawk's Den.
Isabeau was disconcerted to feel a burning in her eyes when she caught the first glimpse of Hawk's Den. She felt as if she had been away a long time. She didn't understand where the sentimentality originated from, but she seemed to be oozing with it.
Isabeau stared fixedly at the trees lining the drive, waiting until her eyes stopped burning before she faced Pierce and Malry. They saw too much.
With her hand in Pierce's, she stepped down from the coach they had hired for the last leg of the journey, curiously breathless as she stared at the house.
She felt like Pierce's woman. Perhaps, Isabeau mused, a modern woman such as herself shouldn't think in such terms, but the notion of being Pierce's woman didn't bother her in the least; after all, he was her man.
Several people exited the house and were coming down the walk toward them. Belva led the group looking quite sedate in an ivory blouse and dark skirt split for bicycling.
"Aunt." Pierce grasped the slender hands Belva held out to him in welcome. "All is well with you?" he inquired.
"Of course," Belva smiled serenely at him. She then stepped past him toward Isabeau. "My dear, I am very happy to see you once again." Belva graciously turned to the man at her side, Hawk's half-brother Treat. "Treat, I believe you've met Isabeau, my cousin's daughter from the North." She turned to face Isabeau, one lid coming down slowly in a wink. "Treat heard we were to be entertaining, and since Hawk escorted you from the train, he decided to stop by with some friends to greet you."
Isabeau nodded and smiled at the guests. Treat stepped toward her and took her hand. "I lived in the North for a time," he said softly, "we will have much to talk about." He lifted her hand to kiss it, his smile almost intimate, making Isabeau uncomfortable. Luckily he seemed to make no connection between the girl from the ship and herself. What a difference fine clothes could make.
Isabeau gently pulled her hand from his grasp and threw Pierce a glance. If looks could kill, Treat would have fallen down immediately. Pierce frowned and turned away.
Belva introduced her to the others in the group, one woman and two men, though the names promptly went out of her head.
"Please, everyone come inside," Belva continued graciously.
As a group they turned and walked toward the house. Isabeau was reminded fleetingly of her previous arrivals at Hawk's Den; she and Leif, then with Malry, and now, arriving for the third time. She sighed. It almost felt like she had come full circle. The big difference now was how she felt about Pierce.
As the others moved toward the house, she turned back to look at him as he spoke with one of the stable boys. He placed his hand on the boy's thin shoulder, bending down to the boy's s eye level. The boy looked up and smiled at him, hero worship in his eyes. Nodding at the lad, he caught her glance, the light in his dark blue eyes making her wish they could go off somewhere for the afternoon.
Isabeau entered the house with Pierce, highly conscious of his caressing fingers at her elbow. Malry had disappeared with a disgruntled look at Treat, who waited for her and then fell into step beside her.
In the salon, Lenore and one of the younger housemaids brought cakes and lemonade for everyone.
"Miss, would you care for some lemonade?"
Isabeau declined, then turned to find Belva by her side. "Perhaps you would like some coffee, my dear?"
"No, thank you. I don't care for it."
"It's a habit I picked up when I was younger," Belva admitted ruefully, shrugging.
Isabeau sat on a plump, upholstered settee, smiling as Maize drew her attention to fresh flowers arranged in a vase on the table beside her. When she turned back, she realized Treat was studying her closely. When he saw she'd noticed, his face broke into a handsome smile.
"Isabeau, I would hear of your home in the North." He took a seat on the settee beside her. "I am sure we are going to be the best of friends," he added.
Isabeau felt a quiet unease, but manners dictated she just smile.
#
It was a pleasant afternoon. Isabeau smiled and talked, truly enjoying meeting Hawks Den's neighbors, but after about an hour, she began to have thoughts of escaping. She felt she needed to get to her room to lie down. She was suddenly feeling unbelievably tired. She supposed all the travelling was catching up with her. She just managed to catch herself from yawning.
Belva must have realized she was drooping, because she sent one of the maids over to inquire if Isabeau would prefer to go to her room and freshen up before dinner.
Without further ado, Isabeau told everyone good bye and left the room, no longer able to subdue her yawns once out in the hallway.
"Isabeau --"
She turned to find Treat had followed her from the room.
"I do hope to see you again. May I come around this week so we can talk?"
"I am not certain what my cousin Belva has planned," Isabeau said carefully. "I am here just a short time, I would not presume to know her schedule."
"I'm sure I can persuade her to make allowances if I were to stop by," he said quite charmingl
y.
"I will speak with Belva." With a small smile, she excused herself and followed Lenore's sister Hannah up the grand staircase.
"Your room, miss," Hannah indicated the door and Isabeau entered the room. "Mistress Belva had it decorated special for your visit."
"Thank you, Hannah," Isabeau managed to get out.
Hannah looked worried. "Is there anything I can do before I leave -- perhaps a bath? Or I could unpack your trunk --"
"No, thank you. I can take care of any unpacking."
Isabeau closed the door, noticing the trunk with the clothes Pierce had purchased for her. It rested on a small stool at the foot of the bed. She opened the lid, her fingers lightly running over the fine clothes Pierce had purchased. She wondered if she should feel like a kept woman, then shrugged the notion aside. She'd do the same for Pierce if the situation were reversed.
As she stood there, Isabeau was stuck abruptly by dizziness. She clutched at a chair, then sat down as the lightheadedness persisted.
Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. Her balance seemed off. Thankfully, the feeling subsided after several minutes.
Wrapping her arms around her waist, she walked to the window. Pushing the casement open, she sank down to the wooden sill, then drew several steadying breaths of air. It took several more minutes before her equilibrium returned to normal. She recalled suffering frequent ear infections as a child and having similar attacks of dizziness.
Isabeau rubbed her fingers over her forehead, then allowed her eyes to scan the room fully. Belva had taken great pains in decorating the room. Pierce had wired Belva from New York of their imminent arrival. The room now looked almost an exact replica of the room in the present time. The colors were similar as were the beautiful furnishings.
Isabeau could not help but remain on edge, worried that now they were back the attempts on Pierce's life would surely continue.
Would she get to meet the real Hawk Morgan?
#
In the week that followed, Isabeau found herself viewing life differently at Hawk's Den. Perhaps it was because of the love she and Pierce shared. There was always the underlying fear of what the future in this time held for both of them, especially with so many questions unanswered. Where was Hawk Morgan? When would the next attempt be on his/Pierce's life? She feared there would be more.
Belva, however, seemed a changed woman -- a woman at peace with herself, involved with her gardens, but also taking an interest once more in the running of the house.
New curtains had been ordered for many of the rooms, furniture moved about, some of it new, and fresh paint applied, inside and out, giving the house a much needed face lift.
Not having known Belva before, Isabeau was amazed by the transformation of the woman.
"She's back to her old self, the way she used to be," Maize told her one morning, a pleased smile on her lips.
Pierce also remarked about the change in Belva. They were out riding, the early morning air cool as they stole an hour together before he left for the shipyard. She enjoyed accompanying Pierce as he checked in with the field workers and tenants before each day began.
"Isabeau -- where are you?"
She blinked, turning to give him a smile.
"Daydreaming." She threw back her head. "I was wondering how our lives will work out when we return to our own time."
"I've thought of it often myself," he admitted.
"Of course we'll return," she said, knowing that's what he was thinking, the risk of staying here, the risk of being separated.
"Malry and I have decided to hire a detective," he said abruptly.
Isabeau nodded. "I think it's a good idea."
"I've resisted up to now, but it's really getting time to be more aggressive. Malry has some connections."
"Well, the sooner the better."
She threw him a challenging grin and urged her mare into a trot. "I'll challenge you to a race."
With a glint in his eye, Pierce said, "The stakes?"
"Oh . . . I don't know," she drawled, "make it easy on yourself."
"I like to bet on sure things, and there's no way your mare can beat Satan," he mocked, reining the prancing horse around as the animal tried to cow-kick Isabeau's horse. "Being a good sport, I'll take you up on it."
"I'll bet I can beat you and do it good," she taunted.
"You can try."
Even before he finished speaking, she'd wheeled her horse around and started off.
Pierce was right on her heels.
He deliberately kept Satan behind her the entire distance, until the very last minute, then he let the straining animal leap ahead, passing her.
All they had to cover was a short track around a belt of trees and Pierce would win the race …and the prize. Pierce savored the moment he'd get to pick the prize.
Satan ate up the ground.
Isabeau laughed and rode straight for the trees, not wasting the time it would take to go around. She knew her horse could not match Satan's speed so she counted on riding a more direct course. Through the trees, over a fallen log and up the small knoll.
Triumphantly, out of breath, she circled her mare as he reached her a second later, his face dark with anger.
Pierce jumped off Satan before the animal had come to a halt and reached up to pull her from her horse.
"Are you crazy racing through those trees like that? You could have gotten killed, jumping over that mess. How do you know there wasn't a ditch or piece of farm machinery in there?"
Isabeau laughed, she couldn't help it, he looked so mad. "You can't stand to lose!" she chortled. "I won fair and square."
"You cheated," he accused her, shaking her.
Isabeau realized he was really angry and had been afraid for her.
Soberly, she said, "I'm sorry. I confess -- I did cheat, I do that sometimes. But before you get even angrier, I was here yesterday afternoon -- in this very spot. I knew it was safe to go through there. Honestly." She ventured a small smile as an apology. "I wouldn't take a crazy chance with the horse."
"Damn the horse," he muttered.
"So -- since I cheated, my win is forfeit."
"Forget it," he said darkly, a remnant of anger still remaining.
"Well, if you're not going to claim victory," she said smartly, "then I will." She launched herself at him, catching him by surprise. His arms automatically enfolded her as they both crashed to the grass.
"I guess I should let you cheat more often," Pierce muttered, covering her mouth with his most effectively. Isabeau wound her arms around his neck, smiling in contentment.
#
Isabeau passed a cooled glass of tea to Treat, wishing someone would come so she could leave.
Pierce was at the shipyard, Belva, presumably, was lying down, and she was stuck in the salon on a beautiful spring day entertaining Treat.
"Will you be going to the dance on Friday?" Treat asked her as he straightened his collar, pulling on the pristine white fabric.
"I think Hawk mentioned it, yes. It's at the town hall?"
Treat nodded. "I don't usually attend these gatherings, but I thought if you were going, perhaps…"
Isabeau looked longingly out the glass doors. "Yes," she replied absently, "I believe we're planning on attending." With sudden inspiration, she came to her feet. "I know, Treat, why don't we go out in the garden? It's so beautifully warm, I hate to waste a day like this sitting inside…." her voice trailed off as he shook his head.
"My dear, I would love to, but you know this time of year, those pesky little bugs are forever getting into one's eyes and hair." He smoothed a hand over his hair.
Isabeau frowned. She had been cooped up in there for two hours.
Pleasantly, she said, "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, and you are welcome to come with me, but I did promise Belva I would take care of the flower arrangements for tonight. I have to get out to the gardens right away if I'm to be through in time for dinner.
<
br /> "Please feel free to wait for Hawk to come in. He should be home in about an hour." Smiling graciously, Isabeau exited through the glass doors to the gardens.
Treat had been coming to the house the entire week. It was now Thursday, and Isabeau had had all she could take of his talk of his mother, his house, and his clothes.
His clothes, for God sakes!
At first she had felt bad about being bored to tears, but she had listened to him day after day and now, neighbor or not, she had had enough.
Isabeau ducked into the back kitchen to retrieve the pruning shears. Once more outside, she stopped in her tracks as she rounded the house, gritting her teeth when she saw Treat had braved the bugs and was waiting in the garden.
"I imagine you could have ordered one of the girls to do this." He carefully picked his way across the lawn so his shoes didn't get any water on them due to the hard rain they'd received the night before.
"I enjoy doing it," Isabeau said pleasantly enough. She stopped to watch him flick imaginary dust -- or something -- from his coat sleeve. "Er …don't you care for the outdoors?"
Treat smiled at her, gallantly taking the basket from her arm. "Truthfully, I would rather be working inside." He gave a long suffering sigh. "I really never was one for the outdoors, even as a child."
"But that's rather strange. I mean, since you and Hawk own a line of ships."
He sighed. "That is my livelihood, Isabeau, it is something I must do."
"Haven't you been neglecting your work all the time you've spent over here this week?"
"I only keep the books occasionally for Hawk. It's worth it to come and see you, Isabeau. I really enjoy talking with you."
Isabeau felt like a heel. That is, until he opened his mouth again. "There are not many marriageable women in this area that Mother would consider suitable. Since you hail from the North, and are of good family…" his voice trailed off.
She viciously snipped off a bud, ignoring the fact that she cut it way too short.
"That's a shame," she muttered, flinging the rose into the basket.
"Oh, I grant you," Treat continued conversationally, "the girls about are pretty enough, but there's not much in the way of conversation, other than the latest fashion and such. You seem to rise above that, Isabeau."
Time Travel Romance Collection Page 24
