Desire In His Eyes

by Kaitlin O’Riley

  “I am not smirking,” he protested, attempting to keep the smile from his face. “I happen to agree with you.”

  She bit into her dessert and ignored him.

  “Let’s put politics aside, shall we? And concentrate on the larger picture.”

  She glared at him while stabbing her cake with her fork. She remained silent.

  “You are in a new city, staying with friends you are uncomfortable with and which could quickly become an untenable situation. You have no plans to go anywhere else. You have become involved with a man whom you claim to have no interest in, yet I think you protest too much, as the old saying goes. You executed a grand plan to get here, but did not have a plan for what to do once you arrived. You cannot continue traipsing about by yourself. You have only the companionship of a very handsome and dear male friend with unlimited means and resources for guidance.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Do I overstate the picture?”

  She grudgingly shook her head in acknowledgement.

  Jeffrey continued. “So I suggest you follow my advice.” He put up his hand to stop her from speaking. “And I furthermore suggest you listen to what I am proposing first, before you put up any resistance.”

  She gave him an arch look and said sarcastically, “Pray, go on, dear Jeffrey. I am on pins and needles waiting to hear what you have to say.”

  He grinned at her. “I will ignore your sarcasm because I know how much you love me.”

  She rolled her eyes heavenward.

  “Do you wish to hear my plan or not?”

  She managed to place a neutral expression on her face. “Yes, please.”

  “That’s better.” He patted her hand. “I think we should continue your adventure.” He paused, waiting for her reaction.

  “You’re not insisting I return home?” Her expression turned to one of suspicion.

  He shook his head. “No. I think you are quite correct. There is more adventure to be had here for you in the Untied States and I say we should take advantage of this opportunity. As the closest thing you have to a male relative on this continent, I shall be your escort, chaperone, protector, whatever.”

  “Wonderful. You can be my protector,” she said with increasing impatience. “Just where do you propose that we go?”

  He gave her a pointed look. “I’ve done a bit of investigating and I have heard that the New Jersey shore is quite lovely in the summer.”

  16

  Down the Shore

  Harrison had not slept all night. When he arrived home yesterday, he had not expected to find Melissa in such a state. She had not had one of her violent episodes in some time and the toll this most recent one had taken on her shocked him. She had not even recognized him.

  He feared that Melissa would take her own life the way her father had done. Harrison had noted over the years that she and George Fleming had similar behaviors and habits. He remembered the man who had been the father figure in his life to have had great mood swings. He would be almost frantic and overflowing with ideas on how to make more sales of the houseware products he sold. Full of energy and bursting with activity he would be up all night, planning and thinking. Then would follow the time when he would sink into a black mood. Irritable and withdrawn, he would retreat into his bed and not come out for days. His mother would explain that George needed rest and quiet and to not make a sound or that they needed to not disturb him because he was busy working. The patterns continued until the day George Fleming shot himself.

  Over the years, Harrison discovered that Melissa experienced those diverse periods of great elation and deep despair and it broke his heart. As she aged the episodes became more frequent and more terrifyingly violent. Once he had found Melissa threatening Isabella with a knife. The doctors he had taken her to see could offer no cause or explanation or cure, except for Harrison to try to keep her as calm as possible.

  As Harrison’s wealth increased he was able to provide better care for her, ignoring the advice of many doctors who bluntly recommended that Harrison place her in an asylum for the insane. Instead he hired a woman to watch over her and care for her. Annie Morgan had proven herself invaluable. Last year he had moved Melissa and Annie from his home in New York City to his newly constructed home in a small village on the Jersey shore called Rumson. Near the beach but within a beautiful country setting, the change in location had improved Melissa’s constitution and her episodes had almost ceased. She had ridden horses, walked along the river, and spent more time outdoors in general, which did her good. Living at Fleming Farm had proven to be a wise decision.

  However, now it seemed her troubles had returned with a vengeance, her violence escalating in the last months. Annie’s letters to him had not been exaggerations.

  His first sight of Melissa sickened him. His sister had always been beautiful, possessing fair and delicate features with pale blonde hair, but now she appeared nothing but skin and bones. Wan and gaunt, she stared at him from lifeless, glassy eyes.

  “How long has she been like this?” he asked, incredulous at the change in his sister’s appearance. He barely recognized her, and even more frightening was the fact that she did not seem to be aware of him at all.

  “About a week now, after her last violent outburst. She’s been refusing to eat,” Annie explained. “I’m lucky if I can get her to sip some water and have a bit of toast. The doctor in town gave her some laudanum and that calmed her down, but look at her now. She’s not even living. She just sits there.”

  Harrison had liked Annie Morgan immediately when he first interviewed her for the position. In her forties, she had been a private family nurse for two decades. Annie’s demeanor exuded calm and efficiency and he trusted her judgment completely.

  “Then don’t give her anymore,” he suggested.

  “I haven’t. We used the laudanum when she was threatening to jump out of her bedroom window,” Annie said. “That’s why I have her down here in the sun room on the ground floor. She can’t jump from here and I think the light is good for her.”

  “Do you think we should take her back to Doctor Reynolds in New York?”

  Annie answered with sage practicality, “I don’t think she could survive the trip. Would you want to risk her jumping off the train?”

  “No, I suppose not.” Harrison reached out to stroke Melissa’s hair, which hung limp and pale around her face. “Melissa,” he whispered. “It’s me. Harrison. I’m back from London.”

  She did not move or in any way indicate she heard him. Her eyes stared past him as if she could see something that he could not. He placed a light kiss on her cheek.

  “Melissa!” Annie called to her in a firm voice. “Speak to your brother.”

  Harrison shook his head at Annie. “Don’t.”

  He felt sick, and the last thing he needed was for Melissa to be goaded into greeting him. Not when her pretty jade green eyes used to light up and she would run and throw her arms around him when he came home.

  But then for the briefest instant Melissa’s eyes seemed to fix on him. In that flash of recognition he saw his sister trapped inside. Then just as quickly she disappeared again.

  He turned away, unable to stomach the emptiness.

  Annie followed him from the sunroom, leaving her assistant nurse to keep an eye on Melissa.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. She just seemed to become more and more despondent. Nothing I did or said could coax her out of that mood. Usually a ride to the river perks her up, but she was having none of that. None of her usual activities would tempt her. She would not even engage in her painting.”

  The painting had been a wonderful outlet for Melissa. He had designed a studio for her at Fleming Farm and she spent many days creating pastoral scenes. He wondered what had happened to cause such a decline in her mental state.

  Harrison had gone to bed that night, but he had not slept, thinking that somehow he had failed to protect his sister. All his money, all the doctors, all the s
pecial care, and still she seemed destined down the same tragic path as her father. He did not know what to do to prevent it.

  He had had more success with Isabella and Stuart. Stuart was a sea captain also, and a damn fine one. Harrison had put him in charge of his South China Sea trade. His younger brother would be fine. And Isabella was safely and happily married in Boston with a healthy son and another baby on the way. Her husband, James Whitman, was a decent fellow and would take good care of her.

  Melissa was another story. He had failed her and it weighed heavily upon his conscience. Failure of any sort did not sit well with him.

  A matter of another kind weighed heavily upon his conscience as well.

  Juliette Hamilton.

  He had left New York unwillingly. He knew he had to return to check on Melissa and a trip to Jersey was unavoidable, but he had not wanted to leave the city. He feared that by the time he got back there, Juliette might be long gone. He had warred with the conflicting desires to never see the little vixen again and to go to her, hat in hand, and convince her to marry him.

  He reminded himself for the thousandth time that she had turned him down, as ridiculous as that sounded. She had been an innocent, despite her passionate nature, and he knew he had to do right by her. For the first time in his entire life he had made a proposal of marriage to a woman, and what did the fool woman do? With not so much as a by-your-leave, she had run away from him. It rankled him that she had spurned him in such a blatant manner.

  He hoped that staying at Fleming Farm would provide him with some solace. But so far, it had not. Seeing Melissa broke his heart. Thinking of Juliette tortured his heart. And so he lay awake all night, deeply troubled, in his beautiful home.

  The next morning, exhausted but still unable to sleep, he went about inventorying the grounds and meeting with his estate manager, Tim O’Neil. Together they discussed the plans for the new stables, which were now complete and the arrival of the new racehorses he had purchased and planned to race at Monmouth Park. He spent the remainder of the day riding the extensive length of his property and visiting the village of Oceanic. A few years back he had visited Long Branch and had stopped by the Rumson area with a friend. The quiet country beauty and lush greenery of the locale, surrounded on three sides by the Shrewsbury River and the Navesink River, called to something in him and he immediately bought property and began to build a grand three-story home with the very latest and most modern conveniences.

  Before returning to Fleming Farm, Harrison rode along River Road overlooking the Navesink River and bought some fresh flounder and crabs from a fisherman. By the time he got home, he had checked in with Annie and Melissa, and there being no change in her condition, he retired to his room for a nap. Just as he was finally dozing off, a knock on his bedroom door roused him.

  Mrs. O’Neil, his housekeeper and the wife of his estate manager, called to him through the door. “Captain Fleming? Captain Fleming? You have visitors.”

  Harrison struggled to rouse himself and staggered to the door. His housekeeper’s eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest. He ignored her. “What is it, Mrs. O’Neil?”

  “Excuse me sir, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered, while attempting to avert her eyes from his chest. “It’s just that you have visitors. A fine gentleman and an elegant lady. They said they just arrived on the Sea Bird and hired a ride here. I already sent one of the boys back to the dock to fetch their trunks.”

  His sleepy brain tried to make sense of what his housekeeper said. The Sea Bird was the steamboat ferry from New York City. His heart began to pound. “Who did you say was here?”

  “A Lord Eddington and a Miss Hamilton, from England. I have them in the formal living room, Captain Fleming. You didn’t tell me that you were expecting company and I was a bit surprised by their arrival. I told Lucy to ready two guestrooms for them. Would you like me to serve those crabs for supper then?”

  “Yes, yes, Mrs. O’Neil. That’s fine. Please tell them that I’ll be down directly.”

  After he shut his bedroom door he stood immobile, reeling from the unexpected turn of events. Juliette Hamilton was in his house. Downstairs. At that very moment. What was she doing here? Jeffrey obviously brought her here, but why? Was she going to return to London? Was she here to say good-bye? But why would she bother saying good-bye to him at this point?

  Suddenly Mrs. O’Neil’s words sunk in with a dreadful certainty as it occurred to him that she had mentioned guestrooms. Of course, Jeffrey and Juliette would at least have to stay the night because the next ferry didn’t leave for New York until tomorrow. He would have Juliette under his roof. In a bed a few doors down from him. Good lord. If he thought he had difficulty sleeping last night, he knew for certain that he would not sleep at all during the night to come.

  Walking to his adjoining bathroom, the newest innovation in his house, Harrison splashed his face with cold water, ran a comb through his blond hair, and donned a clean white shirt.

  When he entered the formal living room, he could barely catch his breath his heart was beating so rapidly. He immediately saw Juliette sitting on the green and gold striped sofa, looking calm and serene. She wore a pretty muslin gown of pale blue, which accentuated the color of her eyes. He had not seen her so fashionably attired since they were in London, and he suddenly longed to see her once again wearing nothing but one of his shirts, the sleeves rolled up on her arms and her shapely legs visible. But either way she was dressed, she was beautiful. Her mere presence aroused him and the familiar scent of the jasmine perfume she wore affected him more than he cared to admit. He fought the desire to go to her and pull her in his arms.

  Jeffrey stood quietly before one of the tall windows, gazing out at the sprawling, green front lawn and the curving gravel carriage drive that led up to the front of the house.

  Juliette must have sensed his arrival for she suddenly glanced up. Their eyes locked and they stared wordlessly at each other. Harrison’s gut wrenched at the contact. Her eyes were unreadable. They held no clue to her feelings for him, although he desperately searched for one. He had no idea how long they stared that way, neither one breaking their silent hold on the other.

  Jeffrey happened to turn around. “Oh, Harrison, good afternoon!” he said in that easy manner that only Jeffrey possessed. He greeted him as if his stopping by Harrison’s New Jersey home, which entailed a four-hour ferry ride from Manhattan, was a common occurrence.

  Harrison pulled his gaze from Juliette. “Welcome to Fleming Farm,” he uttered quietly. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

  Jeffrey explained with breezy charm. “Juliette and I thought an excursion to the seashore was in order while were in the area. And who better to visit than our dear friend, Harrison?”

  “I see,” Harrison responded. He turned his attention back to Juliette. “Bored with New York already?”

  She shook her head, but said nothing. That was quite unusual for Juliette.

  “I wouldn’t say bored exactly,” Jeffrey continued, ignoring the obvious awkwardness between Harrison and Juliette. “I think restlessness describes it more accurately. We’ve heard the Jersey shore was lovely so we decided to see for ourselves. Your butler was kind enough to provide me with the directions we needed to get here. And judging from our ferry ride, the accounts we have heard were not overstated. The area is quite lovely and your home very gracious, Harrison.”

  “Thank you,” Harrison mumbled. “I’m glad that you like it.” It was not often that he entertained, because he never knew how Melissa would react. He hosted a business client from time to time in Manhattan, but Juliette and Jeffrey were his first visitors to Fleming Farm. He nervously wondered if Melissa would even notice that they had houseguests at this point, and if she did, would they upset her? He would have to have a word with Annie to see if she could keep Melissa away from their guests.

  Mrs. O’Neil entered the living room and asked if Lord Eddington and Miss Hamilton would like to freshen
up after their long journey, she would take them upstairs to their rooms. Their trunks would be along shortly. As Jeffrey followed Mrs. O’Neil from the living room, Juliette lingered behind.

  “Harrison?” she asked.

  “Yes?” He looked at her expectantly.

  “It was not my idea to come here. It was Jeffrey’s. He insisted.”

  “But you came anyway.”

  She hesitated as if searching for the right words, her brow furrowed. “If it is uncomfortable…or awkward…for you to have me here I will return to New York tomorrow.”

  “It’s fine, Juliette. Your being here does not bother me in the least. It’s a very large house. Stay as long as you like.” His words were uttered casually, but Harrison wondered if she knew that he was lying and that her presence in his house shook him to the core. All he could think of was that he wanted her. He wanted to reach out and touch her. He wanted to take her in his arms and thoroughly kiss her, even though he was still angry with her for running away from him that morning they docked.

  She glanced at him and nodded her head. “Thank you.” She left the room on silent feet and Harrison was alone.

  He sank onto a velvet loveseat with a heavy sigh and held his head in his hands. If ever there was a time he wished he were out sailing the Sea Minx, without a care in the world, it was now. He had never not had a care in the world and idly wondered what the freedom of that would feel like.

  But all he could think about was Juliette.

  He had known Juliette Hamilton would be trouble from the instant he met her. She had boarded his ship uninvited and caused him nothing but trouble since. Now here she was at his house, uninvited yet again. This time she claimed that she only came to Fleming Farm at Jeffrey’s insistence, did she?

  Well, he would just have to have a little chat with his friend Jeffrey.

  17

  A Quiet Life in the Country