No… this is home. She stiffened, shocked. When had that happened? Oh, what does it matter? She relaxed again, molded against him.
“You were amazing today.” He dotted a kiss on her forehead. “You should be very proud.”
“You’re only saying that because I hit the center of the target,” she teased.
He cupped his hand below her chin and lifted her face. “I’m not talking about the tournament. I’m talking about you.”
She recoiled a bit and furrowed her brow, confused. “Me?”
His only answer was to capture her lips in a soul-searing kiss. Annabella shivered as his mouth claimed hers, making thought almost impossible.
Before the kiss truly started, Jon broke away. His gaze met hers, passion burning in his dark eyes. “Forgive me. I couldn’t seem to help myself. I’ve wanted to do that all day. I probably should have exercised a bit more restraint until we were back at Blackmoor Hall, though. Away from prying eyes.”
Annabella darted a glance around, embarrassment consuming her. How could she have let him take such liberties? Make such a public display? They weren’t alone, but in the midst of a huge tournament! Her ire faded as she took in the people passing, scarcely giving them a second glance.
She stared at the ground and scuffed the toe of her boot in the dust, trying to gain control over her hot cheeks. “‘Twas as much my fault… I’ve also wanted to—”
Jon took her by the arm and tugged her along as he ducked behind the nearest tent. She opened her mouth to protest, but Jon had her wrapped in his arms, kissing her before she could get out a word.
Her world tilted. She parted her lips slightly, and the kiss exploded. His arms tightened around her as his mouth possessed hers. The tenderness combined with the urgency of his touch had her so mindless she paid no heed even as she felt her hat sliding from her head. Heat spread through her body, intensifying as it pooled in her stomach and moved lower. With a moan, she tightened her hold, deepened the kiss. The hungry passion sparking within her burst. She wanted this… wanted him.
I want my husband.
Jon’s hands came up to cup her cheeks, and he softened the kiss, trailing his lips along her face to the sensitive spot below her ear, making goose flesh dance across her skin. She shivered. Or maybe it was Jon. Probably both.
“Do you really have no idea how wonderful you are?” he said, sounding breathless. “Lady Godiva has nothing on you.”
His words set her mind whirling, her body tingling. Almost as much as his kiss. “And you, sir, are really too bad.” She traced his chin with her fingers and laughed softly. “You do know you’re going to the devil.”
“Indeed I do, and I’m quite enjoying the journey.” His voice was passion-filled, barely above a whisper. He bent and retrieved her hat, setting it back in place. “We’d best make our way to the marquee before Gran comes looking for us.”
Annabella seemed to float rather than walk as Jon led her to the festivities. Almost as if she were stepping on clouds. She stole a glance at Jon then laughed softly.
“Dare I ask what you find amusing?” he asked cautiously.
She let out a sigh. “Oh, I was just thinking how easy it is to enjoy the journey.”
Music drifted from the tent, dominated only slightly by the sound of people chattering. Annabella wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she never would have imagined the grand sight before her. The tent had been turned into a beautiful banquet hall. Many different coats of arms decorated the walls, as did several paintings of archers in different poses with bows and arrows strategically placed around them. Tables were arranged toward the back. Quivers filled with wildflowers acted as the centerpieces.
Several tables lined the wall to her right. Platters filled with assortments of meats, cheeses, vegetables, and pastries had been laid out, and her stomach grumbled as the heavenly aromas assailed her nostrils. Astonishment filled her to overflowing. Such a grand meal had been prepared for so many people.
The whimsical strains of a dulcimer drifted from the front of the tent, and then a small group of musicians lifted violins and flutes. Soon a lively tune rolled over the crowd and several couples drifted to the floor to begin the reel. Annabella’s foot tapped to the beat.
“Is it to your liking?” Jon’s breath against her skin made her shiver.
“It’s amazing!”
“Better than the cottage at Wyndham Green?” Jon teased.
“Well, the company has certainly been better,” she shot back.
He gave her a bow. “I couldn’t agree more. Would you care for a glass of champagne?”
“Yes, thank you. That would be lovely.”
With a half salute, he moved off, instantly swallowed by the crowd. Feeling oddly bereft in his absence, Annabella wrapped her arms around her middle.
“I… wanted to congratulate you on a splendid performance today.” The gravelly tones came from behind her.
Startled, Annabella spun around. The man from earlier! The one who’d seemed to be following her most of the day. Apprehension raced up her spine. A battered black hat didn’t hide the dark reptilian eyes that roamed her face. His gaze never drifted below her neck, but she had the impression he was searching… For what? An old jagged scar stood out white where it ran the length of his right cheek and along his jaw, almost as though someone had tried to cut off his face. It certainly added a sinister air. Annabella shivered despite the warmth of the day.
“Thank you.” She shouldn’t be rude. Jon and Gran cared a great deal for the people at the event, and she didn’t want to raise a stir. But the man made her uneasy in many ways.
Gran warned Jon about a dark man…
“Have you been shooting long?”
Should she answer him? Ask for his name? He seemed to know who she was. Not surprising, since everyone knew Jon and Gran and she’d recently competed. But she hadn’t been introduced to this man, so shouldn’t he have given her his name?
She took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
He opened his mouth then slammed it shut as he glanced over her shoulder. Tipping his dark hat, he said, “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” before turning and walking toward the road with quick, determined strides.
“Here you are, my lady.”
Her worry eased as Jon slid up beside her and she let out the breath she’d been holding. Keeping her gaze on the retreating stranger, she grasped the wineglass Jon handed her.
“Do you know that man?” she asked.
“What man?” Jon asked in a tight voice.
She glanced at her husband. His brow was furrowed and his sharp eyes darted back and forth as he searched the grounds.
“He’s just walking toward the road over… there…” She pointed in the direction the man had headed, but with the sun just going below the tree line, it was impossible to make out much. “I can’t see him now. I spotted him a few times today. He seemed…” She frowned, struggling for the words. “Rather out of place.”
“Did he upset you? Should I send a footman after him?” Alarm laced Jon’s normally calm voice.
She touched his arm. “No, no. Nothing like that. He just congratulated me on a job well done today, and I was curious about his identity is all.”
Jon’s eyes pierced through her. “Are you certain?”
She hated seeing him so upset. After all, the stranger was gone. “I’m certain. Truly. I was merely curious.”
Jon’s jaw clenched and unclenched a couple more times, then his face relaxed and the softness returned to his eyes. “In that case, would you care to dance?”
Annabella hadn’t danced in years, except with Juliet. “I-I’m not sure that’s a very good idea. I fear my archery skills are far better than my dancing ones.”
He took the glass from her and set both on the closest table. “How fortunate for you that I happen to be an excellent dancer.”
True to his word, his expertise on the dance floor put her at ease within minutes.
The evening was magical. She danced and laughed more than she had in ages. More than once she caught her husband looking at her, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his eyes sparkling.
My husband… why, yes he is and I want him to stay that way. She shivered as excitement momentarily overcame her during a simple country dance, and then she suffered a misstep.
Jon raised an eyebrow and Annabella only smiled. “I may have had more port than I should have after all.”
All too soon, the dancing and merriment ended. Annabella let Jon drape his arm over her shoulder and lead her to the carriage. As he assisted her up the step, she paused in the door and took one last look around at the departing crowd, dragging their feet along the lane and into their carriages. Then she turned her gaze on Jon. His coat was wrinkled, his hat askew. His hair fell in cheery disarray over his forehead, and Annabella wanted desperately to brush it away again. But his eyes were sharp and gleaming. He looked… happy.
“Thank you for bringing me.” She stroked his chin, giggling breathlessly at the scratch of his nighttime whispers against her fingers. “This was a lovely day.”
Jon turned his head and pressed a warm kiss to her palm, his eyes trapping hers in an intense shared stare. Then the moment passed, though the sparks of awareness remained. Annabella turned and made her way to the seat.
Once settled in the carriage, the evening only improved. Gran quickly fell asleep, snoring softly before they’d gone more than a few miles.
“She’ll be out for the rest of the ride,” murmured Jon with a soft laugh.
“Why don’t you compete?” Annabella whispered, curiosity besting her. “I know you shoot. Gran told me so.”
“I stopped competing at the archery contest years back. Gran trained me into quite the accomplished archer and the older men seemed to resent losing to a teenager.” He chuckled. “And of course I was far too arrogant back then to diplomatically lose. Besides, I find it more enjoyable to see the excitement of other participants.”
“And are you still too arrogant to be diplomatic?” she teased.
Silent laughter rocked his body. “We usually call it too stubborn to lose these days.”
How she wished she could see his expression in the darkness.
He didn’t try to kiss her again. Oh, how marvelous that would have been, ending the day on one of his glorious kisses. But she quickly pushed the disappointment aside and soon she found herself telling him about her papa. It was comfortable, finally sharing the best of her past with him.
When they reached the estate, Jon assisted Gran to the front door and called for her maid.
Annabella covered a yawn.
“You’ve had a long day. I’m sure you’re ready to retire,” Jon said, dragging his fingers down along her forearm before he stepped away.
She tilted her head. “Are you not retiring?”
“I’ll be up shortly. I want to check on a few things in my study first.” He kissed her tenderly on the cheek. “You were amazing today. Sleep well.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Disappointment stung, and tears pricked the backs of her eyelids as Annabella looked out into the night. She’d read too much into his touches and kisses. Perhaps they could hold a frank conversation in the morning. She wandered to the bed, restless, not really tired at all. As she started to pull the blankets back, something shiny caught her eye and she paused. “What’s this?”
A gleaming gold arrow like the ones the men had been awarded at the tournament lay tucked in her bedclothes. She lifted it, surprised at the weightiness of the cool metal. A sheaf of paper fluttered to the floor, and she picked it up then crossed to the candle to better see it.
My dearest Annabella,
This is the very first arrow I won when I was twelve. Believe me when I tell you how proud I am of you and how splendid I know you’ll be today.
Jon
Annabella’s hand shook. “He believed in me,” she told the arrow. “He called me splendid.” Her gaze slid to their connecting door and she touched her fingers to her lips, her mind replaying the passionate kiss from earlier. She’d heard him enter as Marie was leaving. Was he still awake? She wanted so badly to thank him. Suddenly, it didn’t seem right to wait until morning.
****
Dark clouds bubbled and roiled across the sky, mirroring Jon’s churning emotions to perfection. His body was weary to the bone after the eventful day. But his mind — and his heart — had taken a more stubborn turn, refusing to leave him in peace.
Part of him stood in contempt of his sense of caution, that little voice which warned him to move slowly with his wife even if she had been showing signs of softening toward him. What if he was reading her wrong? What if she only wanted gentle affection? She’d certainly had little enough of that in her life from what he could tell.
He shuddered. What if she were only looking for the brother she hadn’t found in Wyndham?
The black clouds thinned and a quarter moon thrust through like a fist, reclaiming some of the shadows with her shimmering white glow.
“Jon,” came a soft whisper from behind him.
He stiffened, curling his fingers into the fabric of his nightshirt. Had he really heard her? Or merely conjured her from the darkest depths of his desire? Fearing the latter, he closed his eyes and held his breath.
“Jon,” she said again, a bit louder.
He eased a breath out and turned, slowly, lest he ruin an illusion. At the sight of her standing in the silver moonbeam, his breath left him in a rush. If he never drew another, seeing the beauty before him would have been worth it.
Her nightdress was simple white muslin that clung to her shoulders and breasts and then floated cloudlike around her as it fell to the floor. At once it revealed less and yet more than the courtesan’s fantasy of lace and silk with which she had tormented him after he’d removed the door between their bedchambers. He’d ached for her that night, had castigated himself for not taking what she’d offered.
What he hadn’t realized then was that the brazen woman in silk hadn’t even been close to the real Annabella. The uncertain goddess who hovered in the entrance now, brave enough to have opened the door and called his name, but too terrified to step over the threshold…
It took every ounce of his willpower not to rush across the distance between them and take her where she stood.
“Jon? I…”
He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile rather than a lascivious leer. “What is it, Annabella? Do you need something?” Say it, say you need me…
She held the arrow he’d left on her bed. “I thought — I thought maybe you’d like…”
Jon suppressed a groan. “Have mercy, Annabella. Please,” he said, struggling to temper the need in his voice. “I’ve even less patience just now than David had with Bathsheba.”
She stiffened and pushed her chin out. “I’m your wife, not some harlot bathing on a rooftop,” she snapped. Then, with head held high, she spun about, ready to leave.
It was in that awkward moment that he understood she was as afraid of his rejection as he was of hers.
“Wait! Please.” The pleading in his voice surprised him, but not as much as the realization that he couldn’t bear for her to walk away.
She turned, her eyes searching, and took a step into the room. Then another, walking toward him with slow deliberation, but no more hesitation. She stopped within a few feet. Jon stepped closer. She didn’t retreat.
“I hope you didn’t come to return the arrow.”
Annabella glanced down. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Yes, I should have. You were amazing today.” He skimmed his fingers along her cheek and she turned into his touch, pressing her warm lips against his palm, flicking her tongue and tickling the sensitive skin there. Slow and easy, he reminded himself sternly as his body flared to exquisite awareness.
Jon hovered on the edge, battling between desire and decency. “I want you.”
“I’
m your wife,” she repeated softly. Locking her gaze with his, she tossed the arrow onto his bedside table. Her green eyes mesmerized him as she untied the lace at her throat and parted her nightgown. Then she dipped her hand into the opening. Excitement jolted through him like lightning. She drew out a satin ribbon and held it up.
The firelight glinted off the gold signet ring he’d given her. He’d seen the ribbon around her neck before but hadn’t known it held her wedding ring.
“See? Your wife.” She tucked ring and ribbon back inside her nightdress and smiled up at him.
The words touched him in his core, erupted, and spread molten fire to every fiber of his being. Jon pushed his hand into her hair, tangled the silken tresses around his fist. He slid his other hand around her waist and splayed his fingers in the small of her back, settling her more intimately against his body.
She trembled, giving him pause, but then she twined her arms around his neck and draped herself over him, arching her neck in sweet surrender. He could feel the staccato beat of her heart throbbing against his chest, and when he trailed kisses along her neck, its echo pulsed against his lips. But by then, his heart marched in time with hers.
“Annabella,” he murmured against her skin. “Please, my lady, be very certain. What will be done is not something that can be undone.”
That part of him which operated on instinct berated him for asking, but he held himself very still awaiting her reply.
****
The words lingered, filling the breathless space between them, threatening to take on a life of their own.
Undone? She was coming undone with the tiny circles he was drawing with his finger on her neck, with his nearness, his warmth. With her need to be his.
“Please, darling…” He lifted his mouth from her neck and cradled her against his chest, pressing tender kisses to the top of her head. “I need to know this is what you want. That you won’t regret—”
Kay Springsteen Page 29
