The Arrangement (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 10)

by Christine Pope

  “I fear it might get rather in the way.”

  “Not at all.” He pulled her to him then, kissing her with renewed heat. With the way their bodies were tucked together, Lorena could feel his arousal growing once again. Not that she minded. Making love with Jeremiah Wilcox was like water in the desert, balm to her aching soul. He lifted her onto him, and once again they were locked, bodies moving together as they found their rhythm and her hair covered them like a cloak of living silk. This time, they reached the climax almost in the same moment, hands knotted together as both their throats gave voice to a single cry.

  Once again she was in his arms, and he held her as the last tremors of their joining worked their way through her body. Had she ever felt so safe, so contented? She wasn’t sure. Yes, she had enjoyed her times with Walter, had never shrunk from the marriage bed the way some women apparently did, and yet something about this was different. Perhaps it was only that she had arrived here after crossing a great gulf of loneliness and sorrow. Perhaps it was her very losses which made her appreciate what she had found now.

  They were silent for a time, and then Jeremiah stirred. “Are you hungry?”

  She certainly hadn’t been thinking about food, but now that he’d mentioned the subject, Lorena felt a ravenous hunger wake within her. It had been many hours since her noon meal, and she had been rather active since then.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Did you say something earlier about soup?”

  “I did. It has been keeping warm on the stove, and the cook left a nicely jointed chicken in the larder. Perhaps not the most sumptuous of repasts, but it should do.”

  “It sounds heavenly.”

  He kissed her again, then pulled away so he might climb out of bed. However, he did not go to retrieve his discarded clothing, but instead went to the wardrobe on the far side of the room and pulled out two silken dressing gowns, one deep green, the other a rich wine color. He pulled on the green robe, and came back to the bed so he might hand the wine-hued one to her.

  “It seems silly to attempt to climb back into all of that,” he said, with a flicker of his gaze toward the garments piled on top of the trunk at the foot of the bed.

  Privately, Lorena agreed, although she couldn’t help worrying just a little about the immodesty of going downstairs in only a dressing robe, even one that was thick and richly quilted — and so long that she knew it would reach at least to her ankles, if not even further.

  “We are quite alone here,” he added quietly, and any protests died on her lips.

  “Of course,” she said. “I suppose I was only thinking about going barefoot when it is so chilly outside.”

  “I will build up the fire in the dining room, and you shall have the seat closest to it. I think you will find it is quite warm.”

  She couldn’t argue with that offer, and so she smiled and let him take her hand and lead her downstairs. A good number of drafts did make their way inside the foyer and up the stairs, but as soon as they were in the dining room, Jeremiah hastened to the hearth, added a few logs to the fire, and then made one of those waving gestures with his hand. At once the flames leaped up, sending their warmth into the room.

  “Now sit,” he told her, “while I go fetch our meal.”

  “I can help — ”

  “You are my guest,” he cut in, his tone mock-severe. “I would not ask you to come into the kitchen. At any rate, there is not so much to manage, since the table is already set.”

  Which it was, with bone china so fine it had to have come all the way from England. Lorena held her tongue as Jeremiah left the room and headed for the kitchen. In the next moment, he had returned, holding a platter with, as he had described, a nicely carved chicken sitting upon it. He set the platter down near her place setting, then went back into the kitchen. This time he came back with a large tureen of soup, which he put down near his own seat at the table. And then at last he was back with more crystal wine goblets, and another decanter of wine.

  He poured for both of them, and then sat down at last. For a moment, he was silent, his gaze meeting hers, dark and depthless, and yet so warm, so full of admiration and desire. “You are an astonishing woman,” he said. “I think we must drink to that.”

  Color flooded her cheeks. “Jeremiah, it feels quite immodest to be toasting myself.”

  “You should not worry about being modest,” he returned, and his eyes moved lower for a second, clearly taking in her half-covered bosom, exposed because of the neckline of the wrap-style robe she wore. “False modesty is no virtue in my world. But if it bothers you, perhaps you can toast me as I toast you.”

  “That sounds better,” she said with a smile, and took up her glass and lifted it toward him. “To Jeremiah Wilcox, the most astonishing man I have ever met.”

  He flashed her a wicked grin, one that made a delicious shiver go all through her body. “And to Lorena Simms, quite the most amazing woman it has been my pleasure to meet.”

  They both drank, and then Jeremiah helped her to some of the chicken breast, and poured a good measure of soup into her bowl. As she began to eat, Lorena was rather astonished by her appetite, although she told herself that she and Jeremiah had indulged in a good deal of activity this past hour, and so it really shouldn’t be so surprising that she required such nourishment.

  Their silence was a companionable one, but as it began to stretch, she found herself compelled to say, “Do you really think you will be able to hide our…liaison…from everyone?”

  “I know I can,” he replied imperturbably. Then his expression sobered, and he added, “That is, I have no doubt I can hide it from the good people of Flagstaff, and even from my own family. What I fear is not being able to hide it from the curse.”

  Those words sent a chill through her. Yes, they had thought they were being very clever. There was no possibility of her becoming pregnant, after all, and the curse had not struck Jeremiah’s last two wives until they were with child. But still, that was all only speculation. He had all but admitted that he did not know for sure exactly what led the curse to strike. He could only guess.

  “I’ll take my chances,” she said, her tone as light as she could make it.

  Somehow, though, she doubted she had fooled him for even a single second.

  9

  He knew he should not have done this. But the iron will that had served him so well in the past appeared to have failed him miserably when it came to Lorena Simms.

  Waking in the pre-dawn darkness, he had rolled over so he might gaze upon her while she slept, her hair knotted into a sloppy braid for the night, falling in a dark river over her shoulder. Her mouth was slightly open as she breathed quietly, her lashes thick and full against the fine curve of her cheekbones.

  They had made love again after they’d finished their makeshift dinner, falling into bed with a sort of fierce, wordless passion that surprised even him. One might have thought that their needs had been sated already, but such was not the case. She’d cried out as he buried himself in her, had wrapped her legs around him and dug her nails into his arms. Years earlier, he had experienced that same sort of intensity with Nizhoni, but it surprised him in Lorena. She seemed so very proper on the surface, but he knew better now.

  Her eyes opened. She blinked into the dim room, an expression of confusion crossing her face at first, as if she couldn’t place where she was. Then her gaze fell on him, and she smiled. “Good morning.”

  “That it is,” he agreed. He returned her smile, while at the same time something within him sobered. It was still dark, the town only beginning to awake. This would be the perfect time to send her back to the hotel. Yes, his illusions should fool anyone who saw her, but such illusions tended to work better when they were not subjected to close scrutiny.

  Lorena appeared to guess what he was thinking, for she went quite still. Her smile didn’t quite fade, but it became almost sad. “You need for me to go.”

  “I don’t want you to. But I think it would be safe
r that way.”

  A nod. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, holding the covers against her so she wasn’t completely exposed. “When may I return?”

  The safest reply would be to tell her never, that she must return to the hotel and then get on the train this afternoon and never look back. However, he could not find it within himself to make such a request of her. It was weakness, and Jeremiah knew it, but they seemed to be safe so far. Surely it could not hurt to have her stay for a day or two more. Even with that, as much as he wished to have her come back this evening, he thought it better that they have a little separation. Just in case.

  “Not tonight,” he said, trying to ignore the pang he felt as he watched her expression fall. “I can only send Jacob away so many times. But the night after? I will make sure that Emma makes one of Jacob’s favorite meals, and that should be enough to have him looking forward to the evening.”

  “I don’t want it to be a problem — ”

  “It won’t,” he assured her. At least, he hoped it would not. While Jacob did go to stay at his aunt’s house on a fairly regular basis, more than a few times in a week would inevitably lead to questions. Jeremiah tried to tell himself that even if it was not feasible to have Lorena stay every night, they could at least try to see each other during the day — by meeting for a walk in the park, or perhaps to have tea in the Hotel San Francisco’s restaurant. Such behavior might lead to tongues wagging, but in and of itself, it would certainly not be enough to damage Lorena’s reputation.

  Whereas these evening visits….

  “But you should get dressed before it gets too light,” he said. “I can assist you.”

  The smile returned. “Yes, I suppose you would have some experience tightening a lady’s stays, wouldn’t you, Jeremiah?”

  “I might have done such a thing on occasion.”

  She chuckled and climbed out of bed, then went about the process of getting into her chemise and pantalets. At that point, Jeremiah knew his services would be needed, so he got up as well and tightened the lacings on her stays as her already small waist dwindled even further. Not for the first time, he marveled at the ability of women to constrict themselves so and still be able to function normally.

  Lorena didn’t seem encumbered, for she bent and picked up her bustle and fastened it around her waist, followed by the skirt and overskirt over her gown. At last was her bodice, which she closed up quickly, slender fingers moving up the row of velvet-covered buttons.

  “I suppose my hair doesn’t matter so much,” she said as she wound her braid into a messy coil and then began retrieving hairpins from the table next to the bed so she might pin the plait in place. “It’s not as if anyone is going to see it, correct?”

  “No,” Jeremiah assured her. “You will be quite disguised until you reach the safety of your hotel room.”

  For a moment, she didn’t reply. Her mouth tightened, and then she said, “I do so wish I could stay.”

  Her response was one he had feared — that she would attempt to press the issue, would want to linger here far past the time it was safe for her to do so. “I know. But it is best this way. Trust me.”

  A sad smile touched her mouth. “You keep asking that of me, Jeremiah. I do trust you. So I will have to trust you on this.” She came to him then and pressed her lips to his cheek, but briefly, and without attempting to force any further intimacies. “My hat and cloak are still downstairs, so I will retrieve them on my way out.”

  “Let me see you to the door.”

  Lorena didn’t protest, but quietly followed him down the staircase and into the foyer, where he helped her into the cloak, and waited as she pinned on her hat. Her face was pale but set, as if she knew she could do nothing except follow the rules he had set out for them.

  That was the moment when Jeremiah knew he must cast his spell. He conjured his sister’s familiar visage in his mind, and then imagined that she stood before him. Immediately it was no longer Lorena waiting at the door, but Emma.

  However, it was Lorena’s voice that said, “Have you done it?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “You may check for yourself in that mirror over there.”

  She went to the gilt-framed mirror that hung over a side table and let out a little gasp. “It’s — it really is Emma.”

  “Only her semblance,” he said. “But enough to see you safely down this street. In a few moments, it will change over to that of your maid, once you are back in a part of town where it makes more sense for her to be seen.”

  “I suppose I should not be so shocked, since you gave me quite a demonstration of your…powers…last night.” An impish grin, one that seemed altogether incongruous on his sister’s features, especially given the little joke he believed Lorena was making with that comment about his “powers.” “But it is rather startling to see yourself as not yourself.”

  “Yes, I suppose it would be. But now you really must go, Lorena.” In a way, it was better that she wore Emma’s face. Even though he knew it was Lorena under there, Jeremiah was not as tempted to pull her into his arms and give her one last kiss.

  “I will. But you will send word?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “I have business which I fear must occupy most of my day, but perhaps we can meet for tea. If that is possible, I will send a note to your hotel.”

  “Thank you, Jeremiah.” She bowed her head and then let herself out, walking calmly down the front steps as if she had every right in the world to be there. True, it might be seen as somewhat odd that his sister Emma was emerging from his house at such an early hour of the morning, but not nearly so strange as Lorena Simms doing the same thing.

  He watched as she walked down past the row of houses, then turned onto Aspen Avenue. In the next moment, she was gone, and he let out a breath.

  So far, so good. But would their luck hold?

  Lorena breezed into the Hotel San Francisco and prayed that the bartender with whom Josie had been sharing a not-so-casual flirtation over the past few days would be nowhere in evidence. Luckily, it seemed that his services were not required at such an early hour of the morning, and so she was able to head upstairs and on into her room without incident. Once there — and once she had ascertained that Josie still slept on the narrow bed in the small room that adjoined Lorena’s own — she quickly climbed out of her gown and hung it up in the wardrobe, then got into her night things and slipped into bed.

  No, she would not be able to sleep a wink, even though she was up far earlier than she normally would be. That was not the point of getting in bed now. But of course her maid would expect to find her there, once she awoke.

  That sleep of Josie’s…it had seemed deeper than normal. Usually she was up and about before this, hence the whole reason for Lorena wearing her semblance as she sneaked back into the hotel. Perhaps Jeremiah had given his spell a little boost, one that would ensure Josie did not awaken until her mistress was safely back in bed.

  So many questions. Before last night, Lorena would have laughed if anyone had even suggested that magic might be real. Now she knew it existed, and instead was wondering what particular spells were actually capable of, and how they might be modified.

  She wanted to chuckle, but since she was supposed to be asleep, she refrained from doing so and instead rolled over on her side. Her hair slipped over her shoulder, reminding her of how it had fallen loose the night before, how it had covered both her and Jeremiah while they made love. Just the recollection was enough to ignite a new fire in the center of her being, but she took in a breath and told herself that she must not allow herself to be distracted, that she had no clear idea as to when she might be with Jeremiah again. He had told her the next day, but would he really be able to send his boy away so soon? What if Jacob objected, or Emma tried to convince her brother that discretion was the better course here?

  Don’t borrow trouble, she told herself. You have not known him for very long, but one thing you do know is that Jeremiah Wilcox is a ma
n who makes things go his way. He will do the same thing here.

  At least, she could only hope she was correct in that assumption.

  “You are playing with fire,” Emma told him as he came by to see her, to give Jacob a hug as the children left for school. His son submitted stiffly to the embrace, but his dark eyes were rebellious. A pang went through Jeremiah as he watched the boy take up his books and follow his cousins out the door, but he told himself not to be so sensitive. It was not as if Lorena would ever come to live with them, or take the place of Jacob’s mother. Even though Jeremiah ached to be with Lorena as much as he could, he knew better than that. All they could do was steal a few hours here and there, and then he must send her on her way at the first sign of trouble.

  “I know that,” Jeremiah replied wearily as his sister handed him a much-needed cup of coffee. “And yet — is it so wrong, to take even a small piece of happiness for myself?”

  “No, of course it isn’t wrong.” Emma sipped from her own coffee as she regarded him carefully. “After all, I was the one who helped to encourage this. And I will do what I can to smooth the way, even though I can tell that Jacob suspects something.”

  “He always suspects something.” Yes, the quiet boy who seemed to be continually on the watch for something, although Jeremiah couldn’t say precisely what. It was almost as if his son had known far better than his father the doom that had fallen upon their clan. No child should be burdened with that sort of knowledge, even a boy who would one day lead their family, who must be the strongest of them all.

  “I know,” Emma said. “He sees too much, I fear, but when I try to speak with him, he says as little as possible to me. And I know you are being discreet, Jeremiah, so I am not sure how much else you can do, except perhaps say goodbye to her. But from the way you just set your jaw, I have a feeling that you do not intend to do so anytime soon.”

  “Since I am not sure what ‘soon’ even means in this instance, it is very difficult for me to say.” He drank some more of his coffee, made the way he liked it, strong and black and aromatic. “I have told her that we need to be cautious, and she understands.”