by Claudy Conn
But there was no time to plan how she would behave, because in one fluid movement he had her in a crushing embrace as he whispered, “Jewelene …”
They were out in the open where anyone and everyone could see if they looked, and she melted against him. His kiss was full bodied and tinged with the desperation of their separation. She felt his need mingle with hers, and all other considerations were forgotten.
He made her come to life. She had been listless and depressed for days; now he was here, and the world blossomed. That first wondrous kiss turned into another, and his tongue reminded her of the pleasure he had given her.
“Jewels … precious Jewels, I have missed you more than I thought possible …”
“You left without even a word …” she whispered back, wondering if the stable hands were watching and how was it Ryker did not seem to care.
He frowned. “Did not Robby tell you …”
“He told me you were gone … but … and then I haven’t seen much of Robby lately as he has been staying at the White Stag in anticipation of the pugilism bout,” she started to explain.
“Never mind that now, my sweet. I wouldn’t have left you for all the world, but matters were dire, and I didn’t have a choice. Some family business that needed sorting out—otherwise, my sweet beauty, I would not have left you here alone.” He took her hand and walked with her, reaching for his grazing horse and leading it towards the barn.
She stopped him and looked long at his face. “Who are you, sir? Are you libertine or gentleman? For I swear, I don’t know and I do so want to know.”
The groom approached, and Ryker handed over the reins. “Put him in the pasture … no grain till later, thank you, lad.” He turned back to Jewelene, and a light in his eyes made her heart quicken. “You know me—here in your heart, you know,” he said as he touched the spot above her breast and there softly lingered when she allowed his fingers to sweep lower and cup her as he moved closer to her. He dropped his hand and said, “Now tell me what have you been up to while I was gone. Have you been a good girl?” he teased and took her hand to his lips.
She sucked in air and let it out. He had the power to make her quiver. She had thought he didn’t care enough about her, and here he was, with such a look on his face. Was she dreaming? She tried being saucy to lighten the moment. “I am always a good girl.”
He laughed heartily and said, “That, my sweet beauty, is debatable. But, tell me, do if you will—did anyone … bother you, while I was away?”
“That is a question a guardian, or a brother, would ask. How odd that you should feel it necessary to ask it.” She eyed him with a saucy smile.
“Do you think so? I do not, so humor me and tell me, Jewels … have you been bothered by anyone … anything while I was away?”
“Who would bother me?” she said, evading a direct answer.
“Omsbury?” he asked through gritted teeth.
She didn’t want to lie to this man anymore. She wanted to tell him everything: that she was Babette, that Omsbury had threatened her, that … that … she loved him with all her heart. She opened her mouth, and nothing came out. The words got stuck between her mind and her throat.
He took it to mean she had indeed been disturbed by his lordship, and a low curse escaped his lips. “Bloody hell … I shall have his blood for it, very soon …”
She grabbed his lapels. “Oh no … do not. He is such a wicked man … and he can ruin my brother … he will if I don’t give in and marry him …”
“You won’t marry him, and he won’t ruin your brother. I will see him in hell first,” Ryker said in a tone that made her open her eyes wide.
He had led her down a path that wrapped its way through a clutter of trees, and there he stopped and backed her into a large oak. “Jewels … sweet love …”
“No … no, do not … there are things about me that you do not know … and I am a very scandalous girl …”
He laughed. “Extremely scandalous … and I am about to make you more so …”
“No … no …” Jewels stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Do not—”
“Sweetheart, you misunderstand—”
“No … you are being kind, but I do understand … and you don’t know me.” She shook her head. “You were very right to take me … there on the beach … for I behaved the tart, and you had cause then to think me so, but it is worse than that … I have done some awful things …” Jewels suddenly saw every naughty thing she had ever done pass before her eyes and put a fist to her lips to stop the cry about to escape there. How could she try and win this man’s heart when he didn’t really know what she had done … and what was worse, when she still felt that he had bedded her and then flirted outrageously with Babette?
“No!” she screamed and pushed him away. She couldn’t tell him now and watch him leave—not now when he had been so caring. She would tell him later … when she gathered some strength. She ran from him, feeling as though her heart would never mend …
*
Ryker left Elizabeth’s mother, Mrs. Debbs, open-mouthed and not at all certain how she was supposed to take his startling news. He on the other hand was well pleased with the outcome of their meeting.
It was a disturbing matter that had now been attended to, and he sighed with relief over it. Now, how to handle Jewelene?
He had thought about marching into Jewelene’s bedroom and setting her straight, but he had an absurd desire to have her confess her sins to him first. He had thought earlier that she would do just that, but instead she had fled him. He had let her go. She was confused and emotional, and he did not think trying to talk to her at that moment would serve. Besides, he thought it was time she confessed to him. However, he was willing to give her a bit more time to do so, for he desperately wanted her to open her heart to him and trust him.
She had some growing up to do. In spite of the fact that she had shouldered the problems of her father leaving them in doubtful circumstances, she was still a child, feeling her way about. He liked the child in her. He adored the woman and her spirit and was fairly certain that life without her in it would no longer be desirable. Damn, he just couldn’t be without her.
He arrived at the White Stag and handed the horse he had borrowed (his own had been too fatigued to make another mile) from the Henshaw stables to a livery boy. He then marched up the wide steps, entered the crowded parlor, and searched around for his cousin. He saw him having a jolly good time with a group of men his own age at a nearby round table.
They were all waving tankards of ale and lost to song. Ryker’s brow went up with amusement, and though he was loathe to interrupt Robby’s fun, he had no choice. Matters needed attention, and he could not be in two places at the same time.
Everyone was in high spirits as they discussed the upcoming pugilism match, and he was mildly distracted to hear one gentleman tell his cousin, “I say Jackson will whip anyone they put against him …”
“Aye,” agreed Robby. “Never saw such a bruiser … fact is, none peal like Jackson …” He spied Ryker and put up a welcoming hand. “There you are. What say you, Rye?”
“Agreed, none come close to Gentleman Jackson, and that is a fact,” Ryker said, taking his cousin’s hand and pulling him up from his seat. “Now, sweetheart … off we go.”
“Go … go where …”
“I’ll explain along the way. We have a blackguard in our midst, and the situation needs attention.”
“Well, upon my word … don’t that beat all. Came to the Isle to relax … and instead, find this the busiest island I have ever encountered. What with French faro girls, and pugilism matches, and last night, Rye … there was a cock fight! The gray won, and I’m happy to tell you that they stopped it before the gray killed the red, but what’s that you say about a blackguard?”
“Come along, cousin, and I shall tell you where I have been and what I have been doing and what we must do next.”
“Upon my soul,” Robby answered, intr
igued.
*
Dora Debbs knocked softly at her daughter’s door. Their talk earlier had told her naught, other than Elizabeth was miserable. Dora had quite made up her mind to it: if Ben Clay was who her daughter wanted, then so she should have him. Dora was not going to stand in their way with the same objections her father had made about her own dear husband before he consented to their marriage. Besides, her meeting with Ryker had cleared up the situation for her.
Perhaps her daughter would be as happy with Ben Clay as she had been with Elizabeth’s father? Dora smiled to herself. Her marriage had not kept her in finery, but they had been so in love and had such a good life together.
No answer, and so she knocked again and heard a sniff on the other side of the door. “I can’t talk now, Jewels … maybe later.”
“It isn’t Jewels, dear …” answered her mother.
She heard her daughter sigh resignedly and felt a moment’s hurt, and then her girl said, “Yes, Mama … of course … do come in.”
Dora went to her immediately. She sat on the bed where Elizabeth lay and stroked her head. “What is it, dear? Is this all for Ben?” She thought her daughter was distressed in the belief she would not consent to an engagement between them.
Lizzie sat up and stared at her mother. “What do you mean? What do you know?”
“Know? Why … I know very little … but I can’t have you miserable like this. I had hoped that you and Robby … but, as it turns out, he is not—well, never mind that now. As it happens, the marquis will set things straight soon, but …” She sighed heavily. “What I am trying to tell you is that I do not hold any hope of you and the marquis making a match of it. Thus, if it is Ben Clay you wish to marry … so be it.”
Elizabeth looked thunderstruck, but then instead of throwing her arms around her mother and thanking her profusely (which is what her mother expected), she threw herself onto her pillow and wailed as though she had just received a final blow.
“Dearest … oh … what is it …?”
“Marry Ben Clay? I would rather die,” Lizzie cried in tones of desperation.
“Really? But … well, well, that is a very odd thing for you to say when it has been obvious that the two of you have been making moon eyes at one another for—”
“Mama … stop … please … please, I want to be alone …”
Dora frowned. She was missing something here. Perhaps Jewelene would know? She got up and left her daughter to renew her sobs into her pillow, sighed at leaving her thusly, and made her way to Jewel’s room.
She knocked, but when no one answered she assumed Jewels was still outdoors. She sighed heavily, clucked her tongue, and shook her head. Things were not right at Henshaw House. Money, she knew, had been at the root of the problem, but now it was something else …
However, what it could be had her all at sea. She made her way downstairs to the kitchen, for she needed a cup of tea!
*
Oblivious to both Jewelene and Elizabeth’s romantic problems, Jimmy and Arthur were well satisfied with their mission successfully concluded. They had placed the money in the hands of the officials for the Derby race and were finally riding their weary horses down the drive of Henshaw.
Jimmy grinned and said, “Damn, but it is good to be back.” He had been deep in thought for some moments before and added, “I don’t mind telling you, Art, been worrying m’self over a problem …”
“Problem? Paying back the moneylender, you mean? Aye, been worried about that myself, but we shall do. We’ll bet enough on Lightning and come around—”
“You are the best of good friends, ol’ boy … but that isn’t the worst of m’problems,” Jimmy said in a confidential tone.
“Aye … we have to hide Lightning now … can’t let anyone other than your head man, Jonas, tend him. He’ll pay better odds if no one knows what he can do, and—”
Jimmy eyed him wonderingly. “Sometimes, ol’ boy, you are a deep thinker. Of course, you are right, and I have that settled in m’head already. That isn’t it …”
“What then?” Arthur frowned.
“It isn’t that which has me chaffed. It is Omsbury …”
“Omsbury? Havey-cavey fellow … don’t like him, but what has he to do with …?”
“I expect mischief from the villain,” Jimmy said with a darkling look.
“Mischief … what mean you?”
“’Tis this—Omsbury wants m’sister. Don’t see why—I mean, he is old enough to be her father, and she is more than most could handle. But that don’t signify. She doesn’t think I know what has been under m’nose, but I do. He means to force her hand. I think he wants us in debt, so that he can come in and save the day and make certain she will walk down the aisle with him.”
“Deuced villain,” Arthur murmured. “But … what are you saying?”
“I am saying that I think he might try and stop us from racing Lightning, because if Lightning races and wins, how then can he force her hand?” Jimmy frowned as his own words hit him full force. “I don’t think Jewels would accept to marry him … even to save Henshaw, but then … she might.” He smiled proudly. “Because, well, she is a right ’un, always putting me before herself, and I can’t have that, now can I?” He shook his head. “We have to pay the moneylender back at once, before the loan accrues more interest than we can pay, then we have to keep Lightning safe before the race …”
“Aye then, we are of a mind. Omsbury might try and hurt Lightning, the villain.”
“Just so, Arthur. We must be on guard. I plan to sleep during the day—take turns with Jonas … guard Lightning at night …”
“I am with you! He might send more than one bloke to do the deed.”
“Thanks, Art—I do appreciate it.”
They shook hands, and Jimmy sighed, for he knew he had a dangerous road ahead. Not only would they have to guard Lightning at Henshaw … but then on the long route to Derby!
*
Jewelene was at the Gothic desk in the library poring over paperwork. She felt a heavy weight bend her shoulders; even if they won the race the funds might not be enough to cover the moneylender’s enormous fees. And she knew they would be enormous—she had often heard her father say that was one thing he would never do: borrow from the tens.
Ryker’s voice, ever in her brain, tickled her brain. His twinkling gray eyes haunted her mind’s vision, and she wished she could collapse into his arms and forget her burden, but that wouldn’t be right. He was not a rich man and no doubt had burdens of his own—and besides, he couldn’t possibly love her. No doubt he felt something for her … after all, he had been her first and might even feel some guilt regarding it? Oh—she didn’t want that.
She heard a sudden commotion outside the library, one that usually occurred with a new arrival. She immediately brightened, thinking it might be Ryker, but then her brother and his friend stepped into the library.
“Jimmy!” she screeched, rushing across the room to throw her arms around him and fiercely hug him, happy for his safe return.
“Whoa there, Jewels … don’t bowl me over.” Her brother laughed, patting her on top of her tawny head.
She smiled at Arthur and then hugged him as well. He tapped her shoulder and said soothingly, “There, there … all is well.”
She laughed and directed them to the sofa. “Sit … be comfortable …”
Jimmy went first to the wall table and poured a glass of sherry for his friend, took one himself, and indicated a chair for Arthur.
“Now,” said Jewelene, “I am not going to ask you how you fared. I can see for myself that you are both well. I am not going to ask Art to leave us alone, as he probably knows more than I do about this business, but tell me, Jimmy, how do you plan to pay back the moneylender?”
Jimmy sighed. “You know? How do you know?”
“Omsbury told me—”
“Omsbury!” exclaimed Jimmy, who looked at Arthur and said, “I will never doubt the hairs on the back
of your neck again. So he had us followed, did he?”
“Moneylender?” Jewelene brought the subject back to practicality.
“It isn’t as bad as you think …” her brother answered.
“It is worse,” she said roundly.
“No, no … I swear. What I did first was sell Papa’s ring and another piece … and that gave us a hefty sum. Then I only had to borrow the remaining amount … we’ll do, sis, I swear we will.”
“You sold Papa’s jewelry … but oh, Jimmy, it is all you have left of his—”
“No, it isn’t. We have Henshaw House, and we have each other.” He smiled sweetly. “In the end—that is all we need.”
She burst out crying and went to hug him once more. He patted her and then exclaimed, “For pity’s sake, Jewels, you are acting like a girl!” She laughed and smacked his shoulder, and he grinned. “That is more like it.”
She sighed. “But, Jimmy, we still have the interest on this loan you took—and what if we lose?”
“Aye,” Arthur agreed. “There is the rub.”
“Positive thinking is the ticket. We can’t lose—so we won’t!”
“Well, I still have Mama’s emeralds … and Omsbury doesn’t know about them, so we may yet come about …” Jewelene said, feeling as though the world had turned into a big, dark pit with teeth and she was being pushed towards it.
“Do I intrude …?” asked a strong male voice at the threshold of the library.
Jewelene looked up to see Ryker, and for a moment everything—all her problems, the black pit, the specter of Omsbury, the entire world—vanished, and all she wanted to do was rush into his arms and feel safe. Something in her heart told her that there she would be safe, and she did in fact whisper in a tone that hinted of those feelings, “Ryker …”
Her tone, her need, everything about her, invited him, and he went to her side and took her hand to his lips. It was as though no one else in the room was there. “I asked you once to trust me. Are you ready to do that, yet?” he whispered.
