"And have you found it here? Last I check this place wasn't as adventurous as the south."
"Adventure is relative I guess," she said and her brows furrowed ever so slightly as she became consumed by thought. "I guess what most appealed to me was change."
"Did you hate the South that much?"
"Oh no!" She exclaimed. "I loved Texas and the Collard family I worked for-"
"Did you say Collard family?" He asked in shock.
"Yes," she said hesitantly, frowning at the smile that creased his face.
"As in Adam and Lenard Collard who recently married Jenny from Georgia?"
"Yes!" She exclaimed. "I grew up on the Collard ranch and Jenny is my best of friends. A sweet and kind hearted woman she is."
John felt like all the chips had fallen into place. "I met Lenard in the war shortly before he was injured and I have just come back from a visit with them. Jenny is indeed a sweet soul."
She smiled at him. "A very small world it is."
John reached across the table to take her hand in his and for a moment the others seated at the table did not exist. It was just them and the strength of a deepening connection. "Nothing in life is ever merely a coincidence and I would be honoured if you will be my bride."
"B-but you barely know me," Jemma stuttered.
He smiled assuredly at her. "Lenard told me just days ago, not to cry over lost love, because when it is real it is undeniable."
Jemma blushed and a tear escaped her eye. "That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."
"And I mean every word. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife Jemma Fair?"
She looked him in the eye and beneath the tears that threatened to break their borders he saw love and hope. "Yes," she whispered much to Megan's delight.
And just like that it was settled. The rest of the dinner followed by in Megan's excited chatter as she appointed herself wedding planner and proceeded unhindered. Jemma didn't speak much for the rest of the night but her happy glow was all the silent words he needed.
***
It was an autumn wedding in the late afternoon. The area faced the breath-taking sunset and at the end of each seated aisle, jasmine scented candles hung from naked tree branches. It was a tear-jerking sight with white rose petals scattered across the vast expanse of the lawn. Spread down the aisle was white leaves, as far as the eyes could see, slightly moist so they wouldn’t crack when they were walked on and on each seat were two roses, one red and one black. Jemma did not even bother asking Emily where she got black roses from.
Even Jenny and Lenard came to town much to her delight. It was an extravagant affair that ended with vows so beautiful it made her eyes tear up and her heart swell with the great possibilities that existed in her future. She was happy and hopeful and John’s emotions matched hers at every turn.
The next week passed by in a happy blur. She enjoyed Jenny’s company, saw Little Jake’s firs steps, bonded even more with Megan and played diplomat to the kitchen staff whom her Auntie Jasmine kept bossing around. When she piled them all in two carriages a month later to go back to their lives she could not keep the tears in. They all promised to visit her as often as she could and Megan said she would be back if they had a job for her. John promised she could work in any of his businesses and stay with them as long as she wanted but she was not used to such charity and promised she would be back if and when she could find another place to stay as reasonable as the one she now had.
It was a sad day to see them go, but John didn’t leave her alone long enough for her to be down in the dumps about it. He took her to work with him every day and between the laughs and discussions she met more people than she could remember off hand, learnt so much about the businesses than she ever thought he would include her in. She was happy and she fell in love with him with each day that passed.
“Are you okay?” Clive asked her one evening as she sat in the foyer sipping a glass of wine and watching the sun set over the mountains.
She patted the seat next to her. “I am okay, and how are you doing?”
He smiled at her. “I owe you an apology. You are everything I have ever hoped he would find in a wife and I am sorry I insulted your humble beginnings to start with.”
“I have already forgiven you Clive. I know you meant no harm.”
He breathing eased a bit and she could feel him relax. That was where they sat in silence until he excused himself to bed and she followed soon after. When she crawled in beside a sleeping John he informed her that the following week he had forgotten that he had agreed to host his friend and ex-fiancé Emma at the house while her parents visited. She had recently lost her husband and the place she now lived with her children was not big enough. It was a huge commitment that Jemma would have preferred they spoke about before he had agreed. Nevertheless she gave him a kiss and snuggled up to him to sleep. They could discuss it come morning...or at least that was the plan.
***
It didn’t quite work out that way and before she knew it, it was a week later and Emma whom she had only met briefly once while they were in town, was moving in for a week log stay with her mother.
“Ahhh John!” the elder woman whose name was Cynthia exclaimed as she walked into the house with a flourish. “You are still as good looking as ever, what lovely babies you and my Emma would have bore.”
Jemma did not dismiss the fact that the woman completely ignored her at his side to cast that double-edged compliment to her husband. She decided just then that she did not very much care for Cynthia and her fur coats. If the woman kept it up she would quickly demand they be placed in an inn where such insolence belongs. She glared at Marin who promptly introduced her.
“Cynthia, meet my wife Jemma,” he said drawing her attention to her.
Cynthia looked her up and down and then with as much polite disdain as she could muster she smiled at Jemma. It came of more as a scowl and her words did not help. “Such a frail little thing you are. I thought women from the south were far more luscious.”
Jemma felt like she had been slapped across the face and the choice of adjectives did not make it any better. “And I believed women from the north to have been taught more manners, but I guess we were both wrong.”
Jemma smiled at the woman who did not expect to be responded to in such a way, beside her she could see John smile before he ushered in a maid to help the visitors get settled.
“I must apologize for my mother,” Emma said to her as she walked pass but Jemma was seething too much to hear what was being said. When they were settled and dinner was had Jemma let her discontentment known.
“Her mother is the least courteous woman I have ever met. What kind of woman insults another in their own home?”
I am sorry,” John said trying to calm her down.
“No,” she fired back at him. “You do not get to apologize for this. The next time you are feeling generous you put them up in an inn. This was something you should have discussed with me before you agreed; I thought we spoke about everything.”
“This was something I had agreed to months ago and then when Emma’s husband died I thought it would be callous of me to turn them away.”
Jemma wanted to hear nothing else he had to say and so she grabbed her night gown form the bed and headed to what was her room before they had gotten married.
“Jemma!” he called after her apologetically. She didn’t turn to respond; she simply closed the door behind her and got ready for bed. She would have to deal with Emma’s mother for an entire week and clearly the woman was not going to make it easy for her. All kinds of thoughts ran across her mind, the top of the list was whether or not John still had feelings for the woman he would have married before her. He had explained that they were just friends and he wanted to be there to support her always, but even then his willingness to subject her to the cruel words of Cynthia was not okay. Had their roles been reversed she would have found another place for them to stay the moment Cynt
hia had disrespected him. But their roles were not reversed and so she went to bed trying to steer her mind against what she would have to endure for the rest of the week.
And the week did go by slowly and with her suffering every day. John managed to miss most of it as he went about his daily duties, and Clive excused himself early every night. She was the hostess and so she had to stay, but on the last day there Cynthia delivered a hefty blow. As Jemma helped the kitchen staff to make one of her favourite pies the woman came around.
“Oh Jemma dear it is so unbecoming of a woman now married to your stature to be muddling around in the kitchen. You are no longer house help you need to stop behaving like one or you might find yourself out of a husband.”
Jemma could not believe her ears, she had suffered enough from this woman’s tongue and would have suffered even this in silence, but the insult to her staff she could just not handle it. “Cynthia, I am going to have one of our girl help you to pack your things and you will spend the remainder of your trip in the inn on the other side of town. I believe we have been very generous but your inhospitable manner is making it rather hard to have you here. Not only have you insulted me every chance you have gotten but you have treated my staff as if they were slaves. That is not something I am willing to accept anymore. Please be ready to leave within the hour.”
Jemma did not wait on a response, she simply walked pass the woman with her head held high and went about her business. She went to her room and flopped on the bed, willing her tears not to fall; Cynthia would have won if they did. An hour later when she came down, she was just in time to see the woman being whisked away.
“Well done!” Clive said coming to stand by her. “I wanted to put her out in the cold from the very first day she got here.”
But she was not as happy as he was, she did not like the idea of being mean and cold to others, that was not how she wanted to live her life. For the remainder of the day she closed herself off in the library and read away her sorrows. It was late evening before John came home and scoured the mansion trying to find her.
“You have been hiding from me,” he said sitting on the floor beside her and nudging her playfully.
“Don’t ever invite someone into our home without first asking me if it is okay and never you ever allow them to stay again if they disrespect me or the people who work for you,” she said firmly to him not giving him a chance to speak of anything else. “If this is to be my home then that needs to be understood.”
“I am sorry,” he said and kissed her forehead. “It was really not something she wanted to hear but she accepted it for truce sake.
“I heard you have not eaten, do you want me to bring you some food?” he asked coming bending beside her to rest a kiss on the top of her head. She turned her cheek to him and patted there too, indicated she wanted another kiss. He obliged with a smile and again told her he was sorry.
“Are you happy here, Jemma?” he asked, with concern lacing his every word.
“You have no idea just how happy I am,” she said and if only he knew the entire meaning of her words he might have seen it fit to have her committed to an asylum or a convent. “Have I given you reason to doubt that?” she asked him.
“It’s just that I see you drift off in solemn thought sometimes and I worry that I am not making you happy.”
She pulled him down to her eye level and spoke clearly so she could hear. “I am happier than I have been in a long time and I will always be happy with you. I love you and I love the life we are making together. Sometimes I miss Texas and other times I just wished Megan was here so we could talk about girly things, but I am happy. This week was a hard week, but I am happy, as long as I am with you.”
She pecked him on the cheek as he smiled and left her to her book. The minute the door to the library closed, she clutched the book to her chest, took a deep breath and smiled.
He threw it open again. “And you can talk to me about girly things too!”
She laughed as he left her to her musings. She made her way to the sofa and opened the window. The music playing in the distance softly floated around to the library while she stretched out on the couch. She opened the book she had intended to read but her mind kept wandering to what had just transpired, reliving every moment of it. She felt nothing but love for this man and she expected they would have their squabbles, but even then she was comfortable here, and she hadn’t told him yet, but the child she was carrying would be just as happy too. With that thought she let the music lull her to sleep.
***
Jemma woke in the morning to find that she had been carried up the stairs stripped down and placed in her bed. It was a tad bit scary to find that she had not felt being moved at all and worse being taken out of her clothes. She had heard that the mythical powers of great love could do this to a person but had not experienced it until now. It was an amusing thought in and of itself.
She rolled over in her bed intending to go back to sleep, it was after all Sunday morning and no great haste to wake up. But as she rolled over her eyes fell on a most beautiful sight. A small bouquet of red and black roses waited on her pillow with a note. The roses had droplets of water on them so she knew they must have been placed there within the hour, and she was again startled that she had not heard her visitor come or go. As she pulled the note opened she smiled:
“Your lips were supposed to taste like forbidden fruit, bidding me leave to a foreign land and never return.
Yet, every breath that exchanged between our urgent mouths tasted limitless.”
- Anonymous
She smiled at how poetic it was and tried to remember if she had read it somewhere but couldn’t. She did not miss the subliminal meaning to the message and she smiled at its realization. She had been right about him; John did know how to romance a woman when he was ready. This adventure that was to be their lives was just getting started and she looked forward to what it might mean. She didn’t miss the fact too that he had placed her in her own bed for the night and not in their matrimonial bed. She loved that he respected the fact that she had chosen to sleep away from him and the choice as to when she returned should be hers. It was warming to say the least.
She fell asleep again staring at the petals and wondering if there was any particular meaning to the number of black and red roses in the bouquet. She had heard somewhere that every bouquet combination had a deeper meaning and in particular where roses were concerned.
A soft rap came on her door later and she smiled as soon as she heard her husband ask if he could come in. Today was the day she would tell him the glorious news and hoped that he would be as happy about it as she was.
“Come in,” she called, her voice still a bit husky from sleep and as the door opened she looked at the man she loved carrying a tray of food. Sometimes she had to stop and wonder when she had gone from liking him to loving him, but the answer was always clear, every day that they had spent together up until Cynthia’s arrival was a day she had loved him. The days following that had been spent doubt both their decisions, but even then she knew all marriages faced their storms and she was not willing to let that define them. Besides, he had made it up to her in immeasurable ways.
“Good morning sunshine,” his perky voice ran any sleep she had remaining, right out of the building. “Oh, I see you have an admirer. Who do you have sending you bouquets in our home?” he teased.
“Well, some wonderful stranger has decided to rid my mind of all the evil things of the past few days and give me something wonderful to wake up to. I think I shall marry him once I have found his identity out,” she said playfully.
“That would be signing his death. I would challenge him to a duel for your love,” he hopped around the room pretending to have a sword and jabbed at the air in vivid imagination. Much to her delight he even pretended to lose. She looked at him yet again and felt nothing but love for the man who had stolen her away from herself.
“Eat up,” he said moments later coming to
pick from her plate. “You will need your strength if you are to watch me duel to the death.”
“And I will need to keep my strength up for your child that I am carrying inside me.” That stopped him in his tracks and he looked at her in shock.
“Yes,” she responded and he hopped around again in joy, dashing out of the room moments later to tell Clive and the entire household the news. She listened to the joyous screams that rang out around the house and couldn’t help but laugh at the joy her baby was already bringing to the house hold and it had yet to be born.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips moments later as he walked back into the room to where she sat munching enthusiastically on the food he had brought her. “I love you so much.”
She pulled him into her, inhaling the scent he wore that she had become so familiar with. The scent that soothed her each day, feeling his heart beat against hers and really realized that of all the things she had wished for in her life, she had been granted them all in one go. A husband to love and be loved by, a house to call her own, a family who would always be there and now a child she would carry into this world. She had only one more prayer to give and that was of gratitude for the things she had and for the things she knew she would be blessed with.
That day after she managed to tear herself away from a reluctant John, who did not want her out of his sight, she sat and she penned letters to Megan, Lenard and Jenny. It was an invitation to come be with her during her last stages of pregnancy, so they could be there for the birth of the child she knew they would love. While John worked she did what any expectant mother would do, stayed home and thought of baby names while trying to decide how she would redo the nursery. In the end she decided that it was a decision she would make with her husband.
“Congratulations,” Clive said behind her as she flipped through the books on the small bookshelf in the nursery. “I had long since given up on hearing the laughter of children running through the halls of this house.”
[2016] Alone and Pregnant Page 5
