Chapter 40
Kit stared at the door of his cabin, still reeling from Louisa’s reaction. What had he done wrong? Should he have declared his love for her? Was that what kept her from accepting him? She seemed very willing to let him take her, so why refuse his proposal? Maybe she wasn’t free to marry. She seemed very secretive about her past. Could it be that she was running away from an abusive husband? It didn’t seem that way. God, what a fool he had been. He’d humiliated her by rejecting her advances, and now she would never forgive him. He’d ruined everything.
Kit rose from the table and headed for the door. He would go find her and apologize. He wasn’t sure what he would be apologizing for, but an apology seemed to be in order, and he didn’t want to put it off and create tension between them. He would give her a little time and try again. They still had several weeks until they reached Virginia. He would pursue her more carefully, giving her time. She was like a skittish horse. She simply needed to be reassured and gentled.
Kit knocked on Louisa’s cabin door, surprised to face a startled Agnes. “She is not here, sir. I thought she was dining with ye tonight.”
“Ah, we had a slight misunderstanding. I’ll go look for her.” Kit went up on deck. Where else would she be?
He saw her standing alone behind the figurehead. She’d let down her hair, and it was blowing in the evening breeze, silvery in the moonlight. Kit could see by her posture that she was tense and upset, and cursed himself yet again for being a complete idiot.
“Louisa?” She spun around at the sound of his voice. He could see that she’d been crying. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I believed I was doing the right thing.” At this point, he had no idea what the right thing was, but he’d be damned if he didn’t figure it out soon.
“I can’t imagine what you must think of me.” She turned away from him, obviously embarrassed.
“I think I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my life.” She looked up at him, her eyes full of confusion. What did she want? He had no idea, but he knew damn well what he wanted. He took a step toward her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard. If this was what she wanted, he would give it to her. Louisa stiffened in his arms for a second, but then she kissed him back. Her relaxed against his, her arms going about his neck, pulling him closer. She tasted so good. He pushed her up against the railing, cupping her breast and grinding his body against hers. He was so enflamed, he could have taken her right there, but he couldn’t jeopardize Louisa’s reputation or undermine his authority as captain.
Kit let her go reluctantly and studied her face. She was looking up at him with such longing, that he strongly considered throwing her over his shoulder and taking her back to his cabin, but he took a step back and willed himself to behave.
“Kit, I can’t marry you. I’ve sacrificed more than you can possibly imagine to find my sister, and that’s what I must do. Valerie is the only family I have left. I can’t make any commitments until I find her. Can you understand that?”
“Do you think I would prevent you from looking for your sister?” He seemed taken aback by her insinuation.
“No, but if I was to become your wife, my first responsibility would be to you, and I can’t give you that right now. Besides, you live in England and my sister is in Virginia, at least I hope she is.”
“What about a compromise?” Kit asked, feeling more hopeful. “Let us become betrothed, but we won’t marry until you are ready. I will help you find your sister when we get to Virginia, and ask her for her blessing.”
“You really want to marry me that much?” Louisa seemed surprised, but he could see the beginning of a smile.
“Louisa, I loved my wife, but I’m done with grieving. I burn for you the way I haven’t burned for anyone in years. I don’t care where you come from or what you’ve done. I simply want you to be mine. I know I sound like a besotted fool, but that’s the truth.”
“Would you still want me if you found out something about me that you didn’t like?”
Kit was momentarily thrown by the question, but the answer came from his heart and not from his brain. “Yes, I would still want you.” He sank down to his knees, taking her hands in his. “Louisa Jamison, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife whenever you are ready to do so?”
“Yes, Christopher Sheridan. I will.”
Kit kissed her hands and got to his feet. “Do you still want to seduce me?”
“Only if it won’t offend your girlish sensibilities.”
“I think I’m past that. Come back to my cabin,” he whispered to her. Louisa just nodded and followed him back wordlessly. Kit locked the door, turning to Louisa. She was standing by his bed, unsure of what to do. Kit removed his coat and threw it over a chair as he approached her. She just stood there, watching him, her eyes full of desire. Kit took Louisa by the shoulders, slowly turning her around. He unlaced the gown as he kissed her neck and shoulders, taking the bodice and sleeves off. Louisa had already untied her skirt, and she let it fall to the floor, remaining in her chemise.
Helena had never allowed him to see her naked, but he had a feeling Louisa didn’t share those inhibitions. Kit pulled down the chemise, leaving Louisa naked, with her back to him. He wrapped his arms around her, inhaling her scent, enjoying the feel of her warm skin. She turned around then, letting him look at her. She was so beautiful. Her golden hair tumbled over her shoulders, her breasts full and creamy, filling his hand perfectly as he cupped them. She gave him an enigmatic smile and pulled his shirt over his head, careful of his wounded arm. Her fingers undid his laces. She pushed down his breeches, looking at him, her mouth slightly open and her lips moist.
Kit pushed her onto the bed, spreading her legs. He needed to see her, to taste her before he allowed himself the pleasure of taking her. Louisa moaned as he slid his fingers into her. She was so ready. The fact that she was unashamed aroused him, and he got on top of her, drawing her nipple in his mouth. Louisa took his hand and pushed it down between her legs, not wanting him to stop what he was doing. Her fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking and teasing until he thought he would explode.
Kit pulled her to the end of the bed and grabbed her hips as he plunged into her. She wrapped her legs around him, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust. Kit had just enough sense left to pull out before he spilled his seed onto her stomach. She wasn’t his wife yet and he didn’t want to get her with child. He slid down to his knees, resting his head against her thigh. Louisa was still panting; her eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her lips.
“Do you still want to marry me, Mr. Sheridan?” she asked playfully.
“Yes,” he said simply. He did. He had no idea where she came from or who she’d been with, but he was bewitched by her. No woman had ever loved him like that before.
Chapter 41
Louisa woke up some time in the middle of the night to find the bed empty and cold. Kit wasn’t due on the bridge until 8 a.m., so he had to be around somewhere. She pulled aside the heavy bed hangings and looked around the dim cabin. Kit was sitting with his back to the desk, facing the row of windows, his feet propped up on the low bookshelf built into the wall beneath the windows. He was bathed in moonlight, which gave him a bluish tint. Louisa couldn’t see his face, but she could see the tension of his posture. He didn’t look like a man simply enjoying the beautiful view of a moonlit ocean.
“Kit? Are you all right?” Louisa threw her legs over the side of the bed, ready to go to him, but his words froze her to the spot.
“Who was he, Louisa?” His voice was low, angry. She knew this would come up. No man of this time could overlook a lover.
“Who are you referring to?” She knew full well, but needed to hear it from him.
“The man you loved so dearly, that you were willing to lie with him without the benefit of marriage.” He didn’t look at her, but continued to stare out of the window, tense and cold.
“He was someone I knew when I was very young
. It was in a different place and a different time. Why does it suddenly matter, when only a few hours ago you said you didn’t care about my past?” Louisa felt a heavy weight drop into the pit of her stomach. Her modern mind wanted to rage at him, to tell him to mind his own business, and just get over it, but her heart suddenly felt very fragile. His opinion of her mattered greatly, and she wanted to go to him and tell him that the past, or in this case, the future, didn’t matter. That Doug was out of her heart, and he was the only one she wanted. She admired his sense of honor, and wanted him to think of her as an honorable woman, not some cheap trollop who would fall into bed with any man she found attractive.
Kit slowly turned around, his eyes bottomless pools of blackness in the moonlight spilling from the window. His face was bleached of all color, nearly as white as his shirt.
“It matters because I’ve never felt what I am feeling now. Helena loved me since she was a child, and I never had cause to doubt her. I had been her first, and only, lover. I never knew what jealousy was until tonight. My insides are twisted into a knot, burning and writhing, leaving me breathless with my own helplessness.” He made no move to rise, but Louisa could sense the coiled up tension emanating from him.
“Kit, I can’t take back the past. I understand if you withdraw your offer of marriage.” Louisa turned to lift her gown off the floor, but Kit was next to her in a moment, grabbing her by the shoulders, and turning her to face him.
“Louisa, you misunderstand me. I am not withdrawing my offer. I am simply consumed with doubt that you will ever love me the way you loved him, and that he’ll always be uppermost in your heart. I want you to love me that way. I need you to love me that way.” His eyes were pleading with her, filling her heart with tenderness. He was insecure, not angry. What babies men were, in any age.
“Kit, you needn’t compare yourself to him. He’s gone from my life, and from my heart. He might’ve been my first, but I want you to be my last. I love you.” She didn’t even know it herself until she spoke the words out loud, but they felt so right, so true. She lifted her face to his kiss, tasting relief in joy on his lips.
Chapter 42
Alec watched as Mr. Thorpe applied the planks to Finn’s leg and bound them with linen strips to hold them in place. Finn screamed like a girl when Mr. Thorpe set the bone, but it had to be done. Thankfully, his leg was broken in only one place and would heal cleanly. Mr. Thorpe was one of the indentured servants who worked the land, but he had been a barber-surgeon back in England, and was the closest thing Alec could get to a physician on such short notice. He wanted to ride into Jamestown to get Dr. Gideon, but Bridget assured him that wasn’t necessary. The labor was progressing normally, and despite Valerie’s periodic screams, there was no cause for alarm.
“I am all right now, Father. You should get some rest.” Finn lay back against the pillows, his eyes already far away in dreamland. He was exhausted by his ordeal. Alec thought it was interesting how he went from calling him “Daddy” in the cave, to “Dad” on the way back, and now went back to “Father.” Sometimes he wished that Finn was a little more affectionate toward him, but he was almost a man, and probably felt awkward about calling him “Daddy”, the way he did when he was a little boy. Alec kissed him on the forehead and left the room. He needed a bath, a meal, and some sleep, but the latter would have to wait until he knew that his wife was delivered safely.
Alec didn’t feel like waiting for Amelia to heat and bring water for a bath, so he walked down to the lake and stripped off his clothes. He was far enough from the house not to shock anyone with his nudity. The water felt wonderful, and he allowed himself a quick swim before he took the bar of soap from the bank and washed away the grime and sweat of the past few days. He would stop by the kitchen on his way back, then check on Valerie. She had been in labor since morning, and he hoped her ordeal would be over soon.
Alec got out of the lake reluctantly, pulled on some clean clothes, and scooped the filthy garments off the ground. The cool breeze ruffled his wet hair, as he walked back to the house, oblivious to the chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs. Mrs. Dolly took the dirty clothes from him, dished out some leftover rabbit stew and cider to tide him over until supper, and sent him on his way.
Alec could hear Valerie moan as he approached the bedroom door. He sent up a silent prayer and crossed himself before knocking on the door and poking his head in. “May I come in?”
“She is nearly there, Mr. Alec,” Bridget replied. “Ye should stay and help her. Yer presence always calms her.”
Valerie looked tired and sweaty, but she smiled when she looked at him. “Help me, Alec. Get behind me and hold me while I push.” Alec did as he was told and held Valerie against him, feeling the tension coursing through her body. He was instantly transported to the night of Louisa’s birth, but he put the memory out of his mind. This was different. The baby was in the right position, and it would be just a matter of time before it was born. It took another hour of pushing, but Bridget finally eased the infant out of Valerie and laid it on the bed to clean. Valerie slumped against Alec, exhausted and relieved.
“Is it a boy or a girl, Bridget? Why isn’t it crying?” Valerie raised her head to peer at the baby and gasped. The baby was the size of a loaf of bread, wrinkled and bluish. No sounds came from its small form as Bridget was bent over its tiny body, trying to breathe some air into its lungs. She looked up at Valerie, her eyes full of sorrow. Bridget shook her head and looked away. Alec tightened his arms around Valerie, as she let out a horrible wail that tore through his heart.
“I am so sorry, Mrs. Whitfield,” Bridget said through her own tears. “He just came too early. He was not ready for this world.” Valerie was crying softly, her hands covering her face. Alec’s vision blurred as the tears came. He couldn’t help wondering if the baby would have lived had Finn not chosen this particular time to worry his mother.
“I want to hold him, Bridget,” Valerie said quietly. She reached out her arms for the baby, taking him carefully from Bridget and holding him close.
“He looks like he’s sleeping, doesn’t he?” she asked Alec. “So peaceful.” The baby did look peaceful. His lips were stretched into a little smile, as if he didn’t just go through the ordeal of birth. He was small, but perfectly formed, with rounded cheeks and a button nose that never drew air. Valerie cupped his head, which was covered in dark fuzz.
“I wonder what color his eyes were,” she said. “Now we’ll never know.”
“Valerie, let Bridget tend to him. You need to rest,” Alec knew it was useless, but he had to try.
“No. I want to be with him for a while before he’s taken from me. I want to remember what he looks like. Please bring me some paper and a piece of charcoal. I’d like to draw him while I can, so that I can always remember his face.”
Chapter 43
They buried the baby two days later. Alec was devastated because the baby hadn’t been baptized, but Valerie did not believe in Limbo, or Heaven, or Hell for that matter. She couldn’t tell him that. Alec’s faith was much stronger than her own, having grown up in the seventeenth century and with a priest in the house. Alec’s mother kept her own priest while she was alive; to tend to her family’s spiritual needs, despite the terrible discrimination against Catholics. The family went to Protestant Mass on Sundays, then held their own Mass at home. There was no Catholic priest anywhere near Rosewood Manor, but Alec did his best to keep the traditions alive. He was usually the one to perform the funeral services, since he was the head of the family following Thomas Whitfield’s death.
Alec read the funeral service, but had to stop several times to regain his composure. They named the baby Alexander Thomas, and his pine cross looked very small and forlorn as Alec drove it into the ground. Finn cried as he stood by the tiny grave, supported by Charles. Valerie knew he felt responsible for his brother’s death, but there was nothing she could do to soothe him. She didn’t have any comfort to give at the moment.
Bridget wanted to prepare Alexander for burial, but Valerie wouldn’t let her. She held him for hours, before finally washing him clean, and putting a lacy white gown on him with a matching bonnet. She had been planning to use them for his christening, but now he’d be buried in them instead. She wondered when exactly when he died, since he was still moving in her womb the day she went into labor. My poor little boy, she thought. How I would have loved you.
Valerie looked over at Louisa, whose eyes were puffy from crying. Louisa clung to Bridget during the funeral service, but broke away and hurled herself at Valerie, burying her face in Valerie’s skirt. Valerie wrapped her arms around her daughter, holding her close. This was the first death that really mattered to her. She had been fond of Cora, but she didn’t take it as badly as the loss of her baby brother.
“Come on, darling. Let’s go back to the house. Baby Alexander is with God now. He is happy. I promise you.” Valerie couldn’t say she really believed that, but she knew it would make Louisa feel better.
“Are you sure, Mama? He hadn’t been baptized. Papa said it was important.”
“Don’t worry. God loves babies, even if they weren’t baptized. Alexander is with the angels now, looking down on us and wishing for us not to be sad.” Louisa nodded in agreement. She wanted to believe, that and she did.
Chapter 44
Charles accepted a glass of brandy from Captain Smith and took a sip, enjoying the aroma of the liquor. The Morning Star would be sailing on the morning tide; its cargo hold full of timber for His Majesty’s Navy. Trade with England had nearly ceased at one point, but things were picking up again since England needed wood to build ships. The vessel would come back in a few months, bringing back much-needed supplies for the colonists. The Misty Dawn now sailed between Virginia and the West Indies, bringing back spices, molasses and rum.
A Leap of Faith (The Hands of Time: Book 2) Page 13
