He became impatient with the slow, gentle pace, and he was soon thrusting upward urging her on. The soft breathy sounds she made as she neared release pushed him toward his own. He caressed the soft skin of her
parted thighs with his fingertips. He explored the tender wet heat between and found where their flesh met and blended. When he finally touched the desire swollen nub he sought, Katherine’s hips bucked. He stifled the repetitive murmur of his name with a kiss, as she came apart in his arms. Her unfettered reaction raced through his body, whipping through his control with a force that thrummed in his ears like the wild beat of a wind blown sail. His release followed hers.
He held her, his face pressed into her shoulder as their breathing slowed and their heartbeats steadied. He longed to feel her skin against his own, not just that part of her that remained connected to him but all of her. He wanted to stroke her back and kiss the pale creamy flesh of her thigh just above her garter. He wanted to explore every inch of her and learn where every touch would bring her the most pleasure. He wanted to ride with her and discover how she sat a horse. He wanted to dance with her again to see how easily she could follow his lead. He wanted to see if she would as easily learn the names of his servants as she had the ones at Willingham’s. He wanted to keep her safe so they could accomplish all of those things and more. It would be so.
They swayed to one side, the steep movement of the coach throwing them off kilter. Matthew placed a hand on the seat to keep them erect and raised the corner of the shade to see where they were.
“We will arrive at the inn shortly.” She drew back to look into his face.
It was impossible for Matthew to stifle the satisfied smile that jumped to his lips. It widened further, when her color deepened.
“The bunk, the bed, the coach. I wonder how many other places we may do this, Mrs. Hamilton, before we grow old and cock up our toes. My property is most extensive in Charleston. We’ll have plenty of time to think about it on the voyage there.”
“You are incorrigible, Matthew.” She eased away from him and turned her back to rearrange the layers of petticoats and gown that had twisted around her waist.
He passed her a folded handkerchief.
“We could christen the crow’s nest if it weren’t so
cold.”
Slowly she turned to look over her shoulder at him.
“It is a tempting thought, Matthew.” She slid back against the seat to draw the blanket high under chin as though she were cold.
He could no longer ignore her change of mood or her withdrawal from him. “But—” he said for her.
“I cherish the moments we have together. When you touch me, I—I shall never feel anything close to it again in my life.” Her dark violet eyes rose to his face, pain in their depths. “No matter how many times we make love, it will never change things. There is no way for me to repair the damage the rumors have done to my reputation. I have been insulted more than once by my uncle’s acquaintances. Imagine how much worse it will be when your friends do it beneath your own roof. And it will happen. There is half a world between our countries, but it seems a short distance for gossip to travel.”
“I’ve been gossiped about myself, Katherine. It means nothing to me. As long as we stand strong together we can face a few rumors.”
“You know it is more than that.” She shook her head.
“Your wife will be whispered about, be called a whore, and be propositioned. And being the honorable man that you are, you will be obliged to defend me. I will not see you hurt any more than you already have been. I do not want to see the respect and care you show me change to resentment and frustration when it happens again and again, and there is nothing you can do.” He grasped her arms and thrust his face close to hers. He wanted to shake the stubborn pride right out of her. Didn’t she know that he didn’t give a damn about the gossip? He knew the truth. “I’m not leaving you here in England, Katherine. You’re my wife. You could be carrying my child. You belong to me.”
“And what are you going to do when a man calls me a whore within your hearing? Kill him and be hung? Will you leave your daughter fatherless because of me?” Tears ran down her cheeks. Her hands clenched his shirt. “If I could change things I would. If I could make love with you in that crow’s nest with the summer sun warming our skin, I would do it. But I will not make you a social
outcast because you feel honor bound to recognize a marriage that was thrust upon you against your will.” He wouldn’t allow her to use that as an excuse. “That was a lifetime ago, Katherine. Things have changed now.”
“You said you made love to me the first time because you wanted me. I made love with you because I trusted you would treat me with respect and gentleness. I wanted to know what that was like because I had already accepted that I would never know those things with any other man. Every time we have been together since has given me another memory to cherish.” He swore viciously. “I never expected you to behave like such a coward, Katherine.” He released her and settled back in the corner of the seat and crossed his arms. “I never expected you would give up without a fight.”
For a moment, she looked as though he had slapped her. “There is no way to fight this, Matthew.”
“How do you know? You haven’t even tried. You’re just lying down and letting Edward walk all over your pride and your honor without trying to take it back.
You’re doing exactly as he wants you to do.” It was difficult for him to watch her try to recover her composure without offering her comfort.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Do you want to stay with me, Katherine? Do you want to be my wife?”
Her eyes looked like rain-washed violets. “Yes, I do.” Relief raced through him easing the tension from his neck and shoulders. “Then allow me to stand by you, Katherine. Allow me to be a husband to you, not just a lover.”
She bit her lip and looked away. “I never realized—” Her voice dwindled away, her cheeks growing flushed beneath the burns. “It was never my intent to just—” He raised one brow and let his silence fight the battle for him though he had an uncomfortable moment thinking about all the women in the past that he had treated in a like fashion. “A husband wants to feel he is in his wife’s confidences and privy to her thoughts and feelings. I’m willing to wait for those things, as long as I can be assured they will eventually be offered.”
“Very well.”
She didn’t sound happy or certain, but he’d take it.
He knew she had feelings for him, otherwise, she would have never allowed him to touch her the first time. Every time she touched him, kissed him, he felt it. If it took her some time to say the words, he could wait.
“What can we do?” she asked.
“We can stand firm together. That’s what married people do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Katherine stirred more honey in her tea and sipped the hot, sweet brew to ease the raw feeling in her throat.
Every time she coughed, it felt as though the inside of her chest had been scalded. When she spoke, she had to push the sound out through a barrier. Tea and time seemed to be the only medicine for it.
They had avoided the common room downstairs and had their meal served in their room. The aroma of roasted lamb, vegetables, and meat pie lingered in the air with the smell of wood smoke from the fireplace. She had tried to ignore the constraint between them. She felt somehow more exposed than she did when they were making love.
Sharing her body with him felt natural. Sharing her feelings was more difficult.
“’Twas fortunate that you insisted we load the coach and leave it in one of the tenant’s sheds, otherwise we would both be wearing borrowed finery,” she commented as she caught Matthew toying with the pale cream lace that edged the ruched back of her gown. Her dark mourning garb had gone up in smoke, and now the brighter colors she had desired to wear to attract his attention were indeed doing that.
“Do you wish me
to remove your stitches now? I asked the inn keeper’s wife for a pair of scissors in order to do so.”
“Aye, if you want to.” He rose and she helped him removed his long coat and draped it over a chair. She unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it back, exposing the stitched cut on his forearm, along with several bruises.
She scrubbed the scissors at the washstand then returned to the table to sit next to him.
“Have you spoken to Mr. Jackson to see how his injury is faring?”
“Yes. There is no sign of infection.”
“That is indeed something to be thankful for.” She
bent over his arm. “It is truly a wonder that you did not tear these loose.” She quickly snipped one side of each knot on the sutures and plucked the ends from his skin.
She tossed them into the fire. She lightly touched the red scar that marked his forearm, then each bruise. Every time she saw another bruise appear, she felt regret for all the pain she had caused him.
“I am deeply sorry for all the trouble I have brought you, Matthew. Had I left the situation as it was, none of this would have come about. Two people have lost their lives because of what I set in motion. I shall have to learn to live with that.”
“Two people lost their lives because there are bad people who will prey on those weaker than themselves, Katherine. They would have come after you, whether you had made the matter public or not. You’re a witness to their crimes and too much of a threat to ignore. Lord Harcourt recognized that and cautioned you before you left London.”
Frustration flickered across his face. “Jaime Stone is a killer, Katherine. Should he discover you are still alive, he’ll continue to pursue you. You’re his only failure, his only mistake.” He fell silent a moment. “What if we were to pretend you perished in the fire? Few people, other than our own men, have seen you since the blaze. If we can limit the number of people who know you are alive it will alleviate the danger for you until the men can be captured.”
She was silent as she considered the idea. “I will do whatever you think best, if it will lessen the danger to you and the other men.”
He nodded.
“It may be a good idea to check with the innkeeper and inquire about Mr. Drake.”
“Drake?” Matthew frowned.
“Garrett Drake. You met him at our wedding dinner.
He was one of Edward’s guests.” His brows rose. “You saw him here?”
“Yes. When we arrived back from Summerhaven, he was standing at one of the windows watching us.”
“I’ll inquire about him and speak with him about the situation before I meet William.” He reached for his coat,
and she rose to help him into it. “We’re going to talk with some of the tenants this afternoon about clearing away the debris from the fire. It wouldn’t do for someone to be hurt or injured because they got too close and part of the structure fell. We also have to arrange for some of the horses to be boarded until the stables can be rebuilt. That will be up to Edward to decide, I suppose, but we can’t transport them all to London with us when we leave on the morrow.” He bent his head to brush her lips with his own. “I’ve arranged for one of the men to stand guard just outside the room, while I’m gone. Keep the door barred.”
“I will. I am still a bit tired. I plan to rest while you are gone.”
He smoothed back a stray curl from her cheek. “Keep the flintlock on the bedside table close at hand.”
“I will. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He kissed her again.
Warmed by his concern, she smiled at his reluctance to leave her. “No one knows I am here, Matthew.”
“Every man in the common room knows you’re here, Katherine. Did you not notice their interest?”
“No.” She had been too flustered by all that had transpired between them in the coach to notice anything else. He shook his head. “We’ll have to be a great deal more careful from now on.”
She caught his arm and tried to keep her anxiety for him out of her expression. “Have a care for yourself as well.”
His pale blue gaze fastened on her features for a moment, and a smile curved his lips. “I will.” He opened the door.
She barred the door behind him then stood for a moment listening to his footsteps recede down the hall.
Silence settled over the room so profound she hugged herself. The chamber was empty without him.
She was a weak pathetic fool so in love with her husband she was only putting off the inevitable. She could not help herself.Though she saw no way the damage could be rectified, she wanted to believe that it could. Hope gave her more time to spend with Matthew. Hope gave her
time to lock away more memories of their time together.
Damn Edward Leighton and his scrawny, selfish, foppish ways. Every time she thought of him, the blood rushed to her ears and her head felt as though it might fly apart. Unless he could be forced to publicly admit he had started the rumors and recant them, she knew there was no hope of mending the damage. He had to be the one who had spread them. He was, after all, the one who had assured her that she had been molested in the first place.
Why had she ever lent credence to what he said? Why had she not remembered sooner what happened that night?
She wanted to rush back to London and confront him, but he was much too devious to openly admit what he had done. He would have to be encouraged to do so in some secretive way. If one of the men with him that night could be captured, they would have proof. But how could that be arranged? And even if it could, would the word of a criminal be believed above the word of a ton?
The thoughts raced through her mind until her head ached with them. She moved to the door and cautiously raised the heavy wooden bar that secured the door then peeked out into the hall. Jess Thornton sat just outside, a musket held across his knees. He rushed to his feet. His face and hair cleaned of soot, he appeared much younger than she had thought him the night before, not much older than herself.
She offered him a smile. “Jess, would you be kind enough to go downstairs and ask for one of the maids to come up?”
The man frowned and moved from foot to foot in indecision. “The Cap’in gave me orders not to leave here for any reason, ma’am.”
She nodded. “I understand. Should a maid come by within the hour on another errand, could you stop her please?”
He nodded, his smile laced with relief. “For certain, ma’am.”
“Have you eaten? The Captain and I have some meat pie left from our meal. Would you care for it?” He grinned. “Aye, ma’am, I’d like that.” She closed the door. She left the pie in the pan in which it had been prepared and cleaned a fork for him at
the wash basin. She poured a cup of tea from the pot, though it had gone tepid, and returned to hand it out the door to him.
Jess set aside his musket to accept the pan and cup.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll secure a maid, if I can.” She smiled at his eagerness to please. “It is not a pressing matter. One will be up shortly to remove the dishes, I am sure.”
She barred the door and busied herself stacking the dishes on the tray and straightening the room. The task took little time, and she settled in a chair near the window and gazed out a narrow opening between the curtains. The gently rolling terrain reminded her of the view from her bedroom window at Summerhaven, and her throat ached with tears.
The consuming anger she had felt from the time her family had been killed had mellowed with each loss that had followed. A woman and man were dead, and the home that had harbored such sweet memories of her mother and brother was destroyed. It was painful, certainly, but it was also freeing. The events had narrowed the focus of what was truly important. She could bear any material loss, as long as Matthew was safe. She would do whatever it took to see that he was. Just as he had done for her.
He had walked through fire for her. Would a man do that for honor’s sake alone? Would he not have to harbor some deep a
ffection for her to brave such danger? He had spoken of desire and the possibility of her carrying his child, of his possessiveness, but not of any deep abiding affection. But when he looked at her with concern, did she not see caring as well?
It was enough. Every moment they had together, every word spoken between them, every touch they shared, fed the emptiness in her heart. He brought her pleasure and happiness. She would hold on to that for as long as it lasted.
She closed her eyes, exhausted by her thoughts. Her body ached in a dozen different spots, and she felt bone-tired. She rose from her chair and stretched out on the bed. The noise that filtered up from the common room downstairs had grown less boisterous as the noon hour had passed. She kicked off her slippers. Matthew would
be back soon. She drifted off.
She woke to a brief knock on the door. Feeling groggy and disoriented, she looked about the room. The shadows had lengthened and the light from the windows had the dullness of late afternoon.
“’Tis the maid, m’lady.” The timber of a female voice came through the door.
Katherine’s head felt heavy, her limbs stiff as she slid off the bed to her feet. She brushed at the curls that clung to her forehead. The wood bar felt weighted as she lifted it and opened the door. Gray eyes, wide with fear, met hers. Katherine caught the sight of a man’s boot just beyond the opening. The girl’s throat was clamped so tight between Jaime Stone’s thumb and fingers the skin was already bruising. Her mouth hung open as she wiggled and squirmed and clawed at his hand struggling to breathe. Katherine tried to shove the door closed again, but Jaime heaved his shoulder against it, thrusting into the room and dragging the girl with him. He flung her aside. Her head hit one of the chairs, the crack of bone against wood, sharp and sickening. She fell to the rug and lay still.
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