Against the Magic

by Donna K. Weaver

  Reese jumped to her feet, her breathing heavy. “I’m guessing you’ve never done kickboxing.”

  “Just once.”

  “I’ll show you. Face me. You’ll do the mirror image of my moves. I’ll try to explain as I go along.”

  Slower this time, she went through the motions he had just seen her do.

  “Where did you . . . get the workout . . . clothes?” he huffed.

  “I had them on under my Regency ball gown. They were like a security blanket.”

  Watching her move, trying to imitate it, Jem understood for the first time just how confining the bulky dresses and petticoats must be for her.

  “I’d like to go through my forms now,” she said when they were both breathing heavily. “You don’t have to stay.”

  “I’d like to, if you don’t mind.”

  She shot him a wary look.

  “No, seriously,” he said. “I’ve taken a few martial arts classes. Not enough to be dangerous or anything, but I’d be interested in learning more.”

  “I haven’t studied it seriously.” She moved her shoulders, as though loosening them. “I go to the classes for the exercise more than for the advancement of the belts. But I can show you some moves, and I can teach you some self-defense techniques.”

  “Great.”

  She showed him the proper stance, and he took it, already familiar with that much. The kicks and punches were a little different than what they had just done earlier. This round, she took the time to correct his positioning, though she didn’t criticize him.

  “Here, for these self-defense moves, use the heel of your palm instead.” She demonstrated by pulling back her fingers and pushing that part of her hand forward. “Make sure your fingers are back, so you don’t break any of them with a hard punch.”

  “Why not use my fist?”

  “You can break your hand if you don’t hit right.” She took his hand in hers and pulled back on his fingers. “The heel palm strike is a great move and carries a lot of power. I can break a board with mine.”

  Jem listened, bemused, as she held his hand and talked. She seemed completely unaffected by their closeness, unlike him. He wanted so badly to kiss her right then, but he sensed that he needed some sign from her that she wanted it before he did.

  By the time they had finished, the sky was starting to lighten. The sun would rise soon. He was wired and hoped he could get back to sleep. He bent over to pick up his boots, not bothering to put them on again. His valet would freak out when he saw them later.

  “That was kind of fun.” Reese began walking toward the house.

  “Was this the first time you’ve come out here?” he asked, following her.

  “Outside, yes. I’ve tried doing it in my room, but I’m worried about bothering the people below me. And, I don’t want to break anything.” She swirled around in a circle as she walked, her face lifted to the stars. “I can’t live the way these women do, sitting on their bums all day and doing needlepoint and stuff.” Reese glanced at him. “I’m beginning to understand now why Lizzie Bennett used to go for three- or four-mile walks. I guess she couldn’t stand to sit still that long either.”

  “Men definitely have more opportunities to be active in this time than women.”

  She turned quiet as they walked, almost pensive, like something was bothering her. Just when he was about to ask her what it was, she spoke.

  “Has Nellie given you any hint how she’s coming on that painting?” Reese asked.

  “I haven’t asked her,” he said. “Why?”

  “I was just wondering . . . if she finished it earlier, maybe we could go home sooner.”

  “But she told us the magic only works on the full moon,” Jem said. “What’s up?”

  “The longer we’re here, the more likely I’ll end up saying something massively offensive to someone,” Reese said. “Not everyone’s going to be like Ellen.”

  They climbed the outside stairs. Jem reached past her to open the door at the same time she turned to say something to him. She paused, her mouth in an “O” at their closeness.

  He inhaled, enjoying how she smelled, the perspiration mixed with the scent that was Reese. Their gazes met. He felt like a moth and she the flame that was drawing him in, just like that night two years ago. Heat radiated off her, and he could almost hear the pounding of her heart that matched the pulsing of the vein in her throat, as rapid as his own. Both breathing rapidly, their faces moved closer.

  The doorknob in his hand turned and swung inside. Still holding it, he stumbled forward. Reese reached out to catch him, but he slammed into his valet.

  “Oh my,” Geoffrey said. “I beg pardon, Mr. Jem. I wondered what had become of you.” The man’s attention shifted to Reese, his gaze running from her skin-tight leggings up to her tank top. His eyes bulged.

  “Night.” She ran to the stairs and took them two at a time.

  Jem let out a deep breath. So close.

  Chapter 8

  SINCE REESE WOKE EARLY BUT was required to attend at least a portion of each evening’s activities, she found she needed to take a nap after lunch. With no modern entertainment options, the evening social events were usually limited to things like cards or charades.

  She had tried reading one night, figuring that if she was in the room with them that it counted as being part of the group. Nope. The others had insisted on making comments to her that pulled her from the story. She’d finally just set the book aside.

  The more time she spent in Jem’s company, the more she never wanted to leave. She was finding it easier to ignore the voice in her head, her mother’s warnings not to trust him. Not to trust what Reese felt. She wanted what seemed to be happening between them, and her walls were crumbling.

  When she entered the drawing room with the other ladies after dinner, she found the servants were already setting up gaming tables. It looked like another evening of Whist. Reese was a terrible card player because she got too impatient. Some of the other guests liked to hear the sound of their voices too much, and it could take forever before they got through a round.

  “You joining us, Miss Hamilton?” Sir Hughes, Kaitlyn’s friend, asked.

  “Um . . .” Reese really couldn’t face another game of cards, but what else could they do?

  “Want to do something else?” Jem asked, coming up behind her.

  “Like what?”

  He shrugged. She searched her mind but could only think of the board games she’d played at the Taylor’s home. There was only— Yes.

  “How would everyone like to learn something new tonight?” she asked.

  “Does it involve kissing?” Sir Jack asked, arching his brows in the flirty manner he had.

  “I don’t think that would be appropriate.” Reese waggled her finger like a disapproving mother, and he chuckled.

  “What do you have in mind?” Jem asked softly as he leaned closer. He smelled so good.

  “States.”

  “Huh.” He straightened, his hand brushing against hers. “They won’t understand our state names.”

  “We can use animal names instead.” Reese waved to a maid who was carrying in a tray of refreshments. “Do you have any newspapers we can use?”

  “Aye, miss.” The girl set the tray on a table, curtsied, and hurried from the room.

  “What will you have us do,” Sir Jack asked, glancing around the group, his voice teasing, “read the newspaper?”

  “No,” Reese said. “Let’s put the chairs in a circle, one chair less than the number of people.”

  “Are we playing musical chairs?” Cyrus looked dubious.

  “Nope.” Reese explained. He grinned, having been there many nights when they’d played this game with friends.

  “Oh, I love States,” Kaitlyn said.

  Reese pointed to the chairs. “Let’s pull those a little closer together.” She turned to Jem. “Since you know how to play this, will you be ‘it’ first?”

  “Sure.” His hand b
rushed against hers again, almost like he meant to take it, but he pulled it away without looking at her and clasped them behind him. He seemed to be doing that a lot. One more time, and she might just take it before he pulled it away. He asked, “How will you ladies manage with those long skirts?”

  “Mr. Taylor brings up a good point,” Reese said. “Ladies, try standing up quickly so we can see how difficult it is. Make sure your feet aren’t tangled in your skirts.”

  It worked out better than she had hoped, and the skirts weren’t too bad. She then told everyone to choose a different animal and had them go around the circle a few times so everyone could remember.

  “It’s important that you remember all these animal names,” Reese said.

  When the maid arrived with the newspaper, Jem rolled it up and took his position in the middle of the group.

  “Everyone, Mr. Taylor will be ‘it’ first,” Reese said. “I’m going to pretend that I was just ‘it,’ and I will begin the next round. This is important—do not sit down without naming an animal first from one of our players. It can’t be your animal name or the name of the person who is “it.” Does everyone understand?”

  They nodded, and Jem held up the rolled newspaper, anticipating the next part of her explanation.

  “This is where the game gets hilarious. If you sit down, the person in the middle will tap you on the top of your head with the newspaper, and you will be ‘it’ again.”

  Everyone started talking at once, with some saying it wasn’t appropriate for gentlemen to hit females. Reese let them ramble on for a minute, thinking back on all the times she’d been hit by men in her martial arts classes.

  “Quiet everyone,” she finally said. “Keep the taps gentle, and no one should be offended. When you hear your animal name called—unless you’re ‘it’—you have to jump to your feet and call out another animal before you get tapped on the head. It calls for fast thinking and quick reflexes. I’ll demonstrate.”

  She bent over to sit down and called out Kaitlyn’s animal. She jumped to her feet and cried out Cyrus’s animal. He, in turn, jumped up to shout out Reese’s, with Jem spinning around trying to catch one of them. Reese wasn’t fast enough and he got her. With a broad grin, he handed her the newspaper, touching her hand during the transfer. He sat down without calling an animal name, and she tapped his head. She handed him back the newspaper, smiling smugly.

  “Now, let’s try it for real,” she said.

  Everyone was reserved at first, and she wondered if they would ever get into the game. Kaitlin saved it with her contagious laughter. Several people, when their animal names were called out, would panic and jump to their feet—but they couldn’t think fast enough and only shouted gibberish.

  Cyrus and Jem were little better, shouting with laughter instead of their animal names. Seeing them brought back many fond memories. Reese relaxed. Soon the other men were laughing and eventually even the most reserved of the ladies joined in.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Nellie said, fanning herself, when Reese called an end. “A most diverting game, though in some company it would not be considered an appropriate parlor game.” She winked at Reese. “But perfect for one of mine. It is time for those refreshments.”

  While some of the guests gathered around the dessert tray, others were already getting out the cards. From the other side of the room, Jem met Reese’s gaze. She found herself caught in the blue of his eyes and wishing to brush aside a strand of his sandy-colored hair that had fallen across his forehead. It only broke when Cyrus called to him to help with one of the tables.

  Hardly able to catch her breath, Reese slipped from the room. Once outside, she leaned against the door, willing her heart to stop racing. Her response to him was even more powerful now than it had been two years ago. If only it would be real and not end like this visit to 1850.

  Reese started to go up the stairs but remembered she wanted to find a book to read and went to the library instead.

  The room wasn’t huge but would probably have given a small-town library a run for its money. It smelled of old leather, paper, and furniture polish. It had the almost-gaudy Gothic decorating found in the rest of the house. She opened the clever, door-like archway guard so she could view the ten shelves of books in one section.

  As she was browsing through Nellie’s titles, Reese heard the door open and turned around to find Jem watching her.

  “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

  “I like to read for a few minutes before bed.” She faced the bookcase again. “Are you looking for a book too?”

  “I thought I might see what Nellie has.” He stepped up beside her and gave the appearance of perusing the books, but she didn’t think he was really reading the titles. He had too much energy about him, like he did when something was on his mind.

  He shifted a little, and the air around them turned electric. It had been like this that night two years ago. Her senses turned hyper-aware, and her heart gave a little lurch, her pulse quickening. Jem’s hand was so close to hers that it warmed her skin.

  Reese wondered if she should leave before it went too far. Maybe it was better to dream and not know for sure. She shifted, but he caught her hand in his and turned to face her.

  “Reese,” he began, “I—”

  “Jem,” she interrupted, wanting to tell him not to say anything.

  His blue eyes held hers, and it was like he saw through her, past all her reasons not to let this happen. Her breath hitched, and all her excuses fled her mind. Jem lifted his free hand and cupped her cheek. He smelled like linen and leather and the masculine scent that was Jem.

  Their gazes still locked, he leaned closer but paused, giving her a chance to pull away. She told herself she should . . . but she didn’t want to. Her indecision kept her in place, and he took it as acquiescence. Jem brushed his warm, soft lips against hers.

  His touch sent an exhilarating warmth through Reese’s body and a familiar longing. How many times had she dreamed of doing this again? Not only did she welcome his kiss, she slid her arms around his neck and gave herself to it.

  She had tried to banish him from her thoughts, worked to convince herself she didn’t care for this man, dated other guys. Something had always been missing though. As he held her in his arms and kissed her mouth, her cheek, she felt like she was whole again.

  Jem finally broke the kiss and, breathless, pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, “Oh, Reese.”

  Her unsteady legs made it necessary for her to cling to the sleeves of his jacket. How would he explain the creases to his valet? Her own dress must be crushed too, as tight as he’d held her.

  “Let’s sit.” Jem took her by the hand and pulled her to the settee. He held her hand between his, running his thumb over the top and making her skin tingle. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too,” she whispered, distracted by how the tingles were heating up her face.

  Jem looked at her for a few seconds, like he had something on his mind but hadn’t decided how to broach it. He leaned forward, and Reese met his lips with hers. She ran a hand into his hair, and he deepened the kiss.

  Voices sounded from the hallway outside, and they broke apart. Reese and Jem rushed back to their positions in front of the bookcase, breathing heavily. Her face felt so hot it must be red, and she had to squeeze her hands tightly to keep them from shaking. The door opened behind them.

  “What about this one?” Jem had pulled a book from the shelf, his voice normal, and held it up for her to see. His hand shook a little, but she doubted the others would notice it.

  Reese turned toward the door. Only then did she notice that Jem’s hair stuck out where she had run her hand through it. She didn’t have time to brush it down.

  “Ah, there you two are.” Nellie bustled into the room, followed by a couple of the other guests. “Choosing a book to read before bed?” Her gaze traveled from Jem’s hair to his destroyed cravat and ending on his crushed jacket. Her eyes narrowed as she s
canned Reese, and Nellie pinned them both with a stern stare. “Since Miss Clarisse is such an early riser, we will allow her to retire. Mr. Jem, perhaps you will stay for a moment?”

  Recognizing when she had been dismissed, Reese took the book he still held out to her, curtsied, and left the room.

  ***

  Jem followed along with what turned out to be a little tour Nellie was giving of the library. One of the young men seemed interested in some of her books. When they gathered around one of the old tomes, Nellie signaled Jem to step aside with her.

  “I must say that I am surprised at your behavior,” she hissed in a low voice, her arms crossed. “The two of you will no longer be granted the liberty of being alone together.”

  Jem opened his mouth to argue, but Nellie raised her hand and pinned him with a steely gaze. For a woman with such a fun sense of humor, she could be intimidating when she chose to.

  “I have told Clarisse that she has a choice to make here. It is apparent that she has not shared that with you.”

  “I don’t understand,” Jem said.

  “The magic has brought her here for a reason. You must not distract her from her purpose.”

  “Say what?” Jem was willing to put up with the magic claims because they were in a different time, but this suggestion that the magic was sentient was carrying it a bit too far.

  He had blown it two years ago, waiting for some sign from Reese that their kiss had not been a mistake. He hadn’t wanted to be pushy. The longer he’d waited to hear from her, the harder it had become to make the first move. What if he hadn’t heard from her because she didn’t want to see him again? Then Kaitlyn had confirmed his fears when she had mentioned in a phone call a couple of months later that Reese was dating someone.

  That had seemed to answer his questions, but over the next two years, Reese had gone through a lot of boyfriends. No guy had lasted more than a couple of months. As he had booked his flight home this time, that knowledge had given him hope that it might be worth it to try one more time with her.