by Lora Thomas
His meaning was not missed by Andrea. “Mr. St. John!” she forcefully whispered. “That is not something you say in front of mixed company.”
“I believe we have made it past the formality stage,” he replied in a low husky voice as he took his right hand and lightly traced up her arm.
Excitement fluttered in Andrea’s belly, hoping that Michael was about to kiss her but afraid that he wasn’t. Her excitement increased as she felt his lips lightly touch hers in a kiss. She felt his hand move to the back of her neck as the kiss intensified. Moaning slightly, she rose to get closer to him. Suddenly, she felt her body leave the floor and was instantly on top of him, the only barrier between his naked body and her thin shift was the silky sheet.
The kiss did not break when Michael moved her. She placed her knees on each side of him as she kissed him. His hands were on her body, exploring every inch of her. A slight gasp escaped her when she felt his hand gently cup her breast. As he tenderly caressed it, an intense sensation began to build within her loins. She moved slightly and felt his manhood press against her inner thigh.
She moved her hips as the sensation deep within her increased. She wanted to see where this would lead. But unbeknownst to them both, their lives were about to change dramatically.
* * * *
Ashton was pacing her room like an anxious cat, waiting for the appropriate time to go to Michael’s chambers. She was angry. It was not fair that Andi was going to get to marry an Earl and all she had was the insignificant whelps in this county. But she was going to rectify that matter. She was ecstatic when she found out that Michael’s father was an Earl. Sure he wasn’t in line to get the title himself, but she would be in royalty.
When she learned that that nosy old gossiping hag Edith Windstrum was staying in the room next to Michael’s, a plan formed in her mind. She would wait until Michael was asleep, sneak into his room and climb into his bed—after she had removed her clothing, of course. She would then wake Michael. He would be upset, naturally. But their arguing would wake Mrs. Windstrum, who in turn would wake her parents. When they came to see what the arguing was about, they would find Ashton in bed with Michael. Naturally a scandal would occur for her family at her “fall from grace”, but she didn’t care, because her parents would force them to wed for Ashton’s reputation—not that her character was an issue. The men already knew what she was like and frequently visited her for that reason.
When she heard the clock strike four, she knew it was time to set her plan into motion. Quietly opening her door, she tiptoed down the hall. Coming closer to Michael’s room, she noticed the light coming from the door that was cracked slightly open. She drew her brows together and approached. Ashton carefully placed her palm on the door and quietly pushed the door open the rest of the way.
The gasp that escaped her mouth was missed by the couple in the bed in the throes of passion. Ashton stared at both, slack-jawed and doe-eyed. Never in all her wildest dreams would she have suspected Andrea of doing such a thing. Another plan formed in her mind. If she told her parents about this incident, then maybe she could marry the Earl and get away from Beaufort once and for all. Ashton whipped around quickly and darted down the hall.
Ashton burst into her parents’ room. “Mammy, Pappy, come quickly!”
Amanda opened one eye and stared sleepily at her overly dramatic daughter. Pulling the covers over her head, she complained, “Can’t this wait, Ashton?”
“No,” Ashton panted excitedly. “It’s Andrea!”
At her statement both of her parents jumped out of bed and followed Ashton to Michael’s room. When the group entered, they spotted Andi sitting on top of Michael kissing him. Michael had one hand on Andrea’s exposed thigh and the other on her breast.
“Ott, get my pistol!” Amanda yelled, barging the rest of the way into the room.
Amanda’s voice broke the spell that had been cast over the couple. “Mammy!” Andrea gasped as she quickly scurried off Michael.
“Andrea!” Ott exclaimed.
“Bloody hell,” Michael muttered as his head fell back on the pillow. Sitting up, the sheet fell to his waist exposing his well-defined chest.
“Boy, you had best be explainin’ yourself,” the normally mild-mannered Ott said heatedly.
Michael took an exasperated sigh. He looked to Andrea. She was working her hands together nervously as she looked shamefully at the floor. He turned to Ott and was taken aback by the amount of rage he saw in the man’s gray eyes. He felt as though he had disappointed his own father. His gaze turned to Amanda. She was willing him to die. Her eyes were narrowed and she pointed her long finger at him.
“We trusted you, Mr. St. John, and how do you repay our trust? By taking advantage of my daughter!” Amanda exclaimed.
“I took advantage of no one, Miss Amanda,” Michael defended.
“Liar! Now get up!”
Ashton raced back into the room at that time with Amanda’s pistol in her hand. “Here, Mammy,” she said as she gave a smug look towards Andrea.
Mandy pointed her weapon at Michael. “I said get up.”
“I’m not dressed,” he stated through clenched teeth.
“I’m not unfamiliar with the male body. Ashton, get out!”
“But, Mammy,” Ashton protested.
Amanda turned her gaze to Ashton. “Girl, I said out. Don’t make me take your daddy’s belt to you after I finish with him.”
Ashton reluctantly nodded her head, but an evil sneer crossed her face as she left. It was about time Andi got in real trouble for something.
“What are you still doing in bed, Mr. St. John?” Amanda questioned.
Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.” He stood taking the sheet with him.
“Now get dressed.”
“Mammy!” Andrea stated. “Please, can we not do this?”
“No. He has compromised you and—”
Amanda’s sentence was interrupted by Mrs. Windstrum’s gruff complaint of, “What is all this commotion about,” and then her gasp of, “Oh, my!”
“Bloody hell,” Michael repeated again as he took his hand through his hair. He might have been able to convince Amanda and Ott of the truth without an incident because it would be known only to family. But now the incorrigible Edith Windstrum was in the mix. Andrea’s reputation would be ruined.
“Get out, Edith!” Amanda demanded, her weapon never leaving Michael’s chest.
“Mammy, please can’t we discuss this—” Andi pleaded and began walking towards her mother. Her sentence was cut off by Pepper running out from under the bed, tripping her.
Michael dropped the sheet to catch Andrea leaving his naked body exposed.
Amanda gasped, Ott said nothing, and Mrs. Windstrum fainted—all because each one had gotten a full view of Michael’s naked form.
“Cover your eyes, Andrea!” Ott insisted as he walked towards his daughter. He took her arm and ushered her out the door. “Amanda, take your daughter. I will stay here and make sure Michael doesn’t go anywhere.”
“I’ll send for the pastor.” Amanda walked past Ott and took Andi’s arm.
“Mammy, please.”
“Enough! You have brought shame to this family one too many times. First, in your actions and now in your behavior, acting like a trollop.”
“If you want to see a true trollop, then take a look at Ashton! More men visit her than Colonel Red’s,” Andi retaliated.
Amanda jerked Andrea around to face her and her hand connected with Andi’s cheek. “You do not speak ill of your sisters, any of them,” Amanda hissed.
Andrea’s eyes grew wide as tears rolled down her face. She placed her hand on her tender cheek. Amanda had taken a switch to Andi’s backside more times than not, but she always heard the story first. Not once had Amanda struck her children’s faces . . . until now.
Amanda turned and continued to drag Andi to her room. Once there she tossed Andrea inside and followed suit. “Find something suitable to wear. I wil
l be back in a few minutes. And you had best not leave this room.”
“No promises,” Andi countered.
“Really,” Amanda growled. “Well, let me inform you of something, little missy. You will not leave this room, because if you do, I’ll shoot that damn cat.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” Amanda warned, as she turned and left.
Andrea sat down on the bed and began to cry. What had she done? Her mother had turned on her over a misunderstanding. She wasn’t even allowed to explain what had happened. Andrea stood up and walked over to her wardrobe.
Sally entered the room with a sorrowful look on her face. Andi didn’t even turn towards the door. “I guess you know.”
Sally quietly closed the door. “Yes, Miss Andi,” she said and walked over to her. She turned Andi around and embraced her. Andi clung to Sally.
“It’s all a misunderstanding, Sally. Nothing happened. Honestly.”
Sally pulled Andi back from her and took her head in her hands. “I know, child. But sometimes God has bigger plans for us, plans we do not understand. It will all work out for the best.” Sally wiped a tear from Andi’s cheek. “Now we best get you dressed. We can’t have that handsome man waitin’ on you thinkin’ you’re the one who needs the gun pointed at your back in order to wed.”
Sally pulled out a lovely mint day gown and helped Andi dress. As she assisted her mistress, Sally smiled. Deep down she knew that this was the man who could tame this spirited young lady.
Chapter Thirteen
Andrea followed her mother into Ott’s study. Neither woman spoke as they entered the room. Andrea’s eyes went to Michael. His long dark brown hair was rumpled, and she could tell all he had done was run his fingers through it. In the light of the room, she could see the start of his day’s growth of beard that she had felt earlier during their kiss. He was wearing the black pants and white shirt from last night, the wrinkles still evident where he had just tossed them onto the floor. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and she could see the dark hairs of his chest trying to escape from underneath. She looked into his eyes and could see his anger at the situation. He took a drink out of the glass he was holding. It was too early to be drinking, but given the circumstances, she could see why he was.
Michael looked at Andi with agitation. He was not happy at being found in a compromising position with her, even though nothing had happened. He had tried to explain this to Ott, but the older man would hear no part of it. Michael couldn’t blame him. If he had walked in on his sister in the same position, he would have done the same thing, after he and his brothers had thoroughly beaten the life out of the man. As he looked at Andi, he could see that she had been crying. The evidence was apparent in her swollen lids and red eyes. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and tell her that everything would be all right, but the situation at hand did not allow for such actions. Amanda took a seat in one of the high-back chairs and placed her pistol on the side table. She patted it as she looked at Michael.
“There is no need for that,” Michael said as he motioned his head towards the gun. “I have no plans on running or refusing to wed Andi.”
Amanda said nothing. Her eyes narrowed. Slowly standing, she walked over to Michael. The sound of her shoes clicking on the wooden floor echoed eerily throughout the room. Her hand struck his cheek with such force that it resonated like a gunshot throughout the room.
“I should castrate you!”
Michael gave her a tight-lipped smile. He said nothing as he took another drink. The arrogance of his stance infuriated Mandy further causing her hand to strike his cheek again.
“If you were a man, I would call you out for such disrespect,” Michael said.
“If I were a man, I would kill you with my bare hands.”
“Amanda, enough!” Ott intervened.
Amanda pointed her finger at Michael as if saying, “This is not over.” She turned and returned to her chair.
Ott took a deep breath. He had listened to Michael’s story of what had happened and he believed him. Michael assured him that nothing had happened between Andrea and him. Ott knew that Michael was excellent at convincing people of whatever he was telling; however, Ott had learned to watch his eyes. Michael did not lie, but he would leave some pertinent facts out and his eyes revealed it. But this morning, his eyes did not lie, did not leave anything out. If only Mrs. Windstrum hadn’t walked in, then they would not be in this situation.
But was this a bad situation? Andrea was to marry Peterson, and because of this situation, Ott had to play his fatherly hand and force marriage to Michael on her. He liked Michael. He was a good man, an honest man. He cared greatly for his family. Ott had witnessed his treatment of the slaves. Many men treated slaves worse than animals, but Michael viewed them as equals. Even when Young Amos accidently hit him, Michael did not raise a hand at him. He laughed it off and jokingly stated that paybacks were hell. Even now, after Mandy had struck him, he made no attempt to defend himself from her. Ott could tell that if it was he striking Michael, that the younger man would take offense and hit back, but not with a woman. He had patience and that made Ott think he would be a suitable match for Andrea.
There was a knock on the door and Stephen’s father, Emmett Calhoun entered. He had dressed hastily. His clothes were wrinkled, his jacket was inside out, and he had his hat on backwards.
“What’s wrong?” Emmett questioned as he entered the room. “Is someone sick? Dying?”
“Not yet,” Amanda replied through gritted teeth.
Emmett looked around the room. He took in the occupants’ presence and demeanor. “Ah, I see,” he said as he licked his lips. “Well, let us begin.”
He walked to Michael and gave him a sympathetic look. He turned to face the bride and his shocked “Andrea!” could not be contained. Never would he have thought he would be called to a forced wedding for Andrea. Ashton, yes, but Andrea?
His stunned response did not appease Amanda’s anger one bit. “Yes. We’re all shocked. Now if you don’t mind, Brother Calhoun.”
He sputtered and blinked rapidly. “Yes, by all means.” He looked at Michael and placed a hand on Michael’s arm. “You need to stand here. And, Miss Andrea, you should stand here,” he said as he pointed to the left of Michael.
Andrea stood and walked over to Michael. Her heart sank with each step. She did not want to be forced into this union. If she was to marry, she wanted it to be her choice. Her eyes came to Michael’s and a full feeling settled into her heart. Would it be that horrible to be married to this man? She did find him attractive—overly so. She was constantly on the search of him, at the pig roast, at the ball. Every time she heard someone outside, she would race to a window to see if she could catch a glimpse of him. When she returned from Savannah, she was exhausted, but all she could think about was seeing him and so she had searched him out.
“Now,” Emmett said as he stepped to the front of the couple. He cleared his throat and began, “Dearly beloved, we gather here today . . .” His words faded into the distance as Andrea stared at the floor. Her mind was racing, trying to figure a way out of this forced union. His words did not reach Andrea’s ears until she heard the him say, “Michael . . . Michael . . . I’m sorry, what is your full name?”
“Michael Paul St. John.”
The preacher looked at him strangely. “That doesn’t have a good flow to it.”
Michael snapped, “Well, you haven’t heard it coming from my mother’s mouth.”
“Brother Calhoun?” Ott interjected.
“Oh, yes,” Emmett stated. “Do you Michael Paul St. John take Andrea Lynn Craycraft to be your wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart’s deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself
only unto her as long as you both shall live?”
Andrea looked up into Michael’s eyes expecting to see fury, but instead saw sincerity in his dark blue eyes as he clearly said, “I do.”
As the preacher repeated the same vows to her, she couldn’t help but ponder the sincerity of Michael’s “I do”. It was as though he truly wanted this marriage. As if this was planned and he was standing in front of a church full of family and friends pledging his undying love for her. His eyes spoke to her as if telling her he had no regrets that this wedding was happening, even though it was forced upon them both.
“Andrea?” Emmett questioned at her lack of response to the vows he just repeated.
She timidly looked at Michael and whispered, “I do.”
“The ring, please,” the preacher requested.
“I don’t have one,” Michael informed.
“Well, then,” Emmett said as he looked around the room.
Amanda took a deep breath and looked down at her right hand to her grandmother’s ring. She pulled it off her finger and held it out to Michael. “Here.”
Andrea’s eyes grew wide. “Mammy, that’s your grandmother’s ring!”
“Yes, and it’s your great-grandmother’s. I was planning on giving it to you sooner, knowing you would be the only one to appreciate it, but I didn’t. Now is as good a time as any.”
Michael took the ring from Amanda. It was very old. The gold ring was elegantly made with a small emerald in the center. Fitting, Michael thought. The Emerald Jewell brought him here a single content bachelor and an emerald was making sure he would leave here a married man.
Repeating the words of Brother Calhoun, Michael placed the ring on Andrea’s finger. He heard her nervous intake of breath as the emerald ring slid into place on her finger, signifying the union.
“What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. And so, by the power vested in me by Almighty God and the State of South Carolina, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
