“I never heard the words, Ransom,” she told him softly. “But I would honor and obey you.”
“And what of love, my beautiful Cat? Would you pledge your love?”
It would have been so easy to declare her love, but it was so newly discovered she could not. She used his own words to her aboard the Ebony. “You ask too much too soon.”
With a deep sigh, he nodded and stepped back from her. “Yes, perhaps I do.” He turned and left her standing there.
Catherine stared after him. She saw his desire for her. Still, he did not press her. Was he respecting what he thought she wished? Should she let him sail without spending one more night in his arms? Thinking of her own ill-fated voyage, she knew she could not.
Ready to race after him, she paused and smiled. She would go to him, but he would have no doubt of the reason. She had already ordered a bath. When she was ready, she would make sure his thoughts were filled with her his entire trip.
* * *
The house was quiet. Ransom assumed he was the only one still awake, but he could not bring himself to go to his empty room. After sharing his bed with Catherine for more than a week, he knew he would not sleep should he venture there alone.
He stretched out his legs and propped his ankles on his desk. Then he leaned back in his chair in hopes of drifting off. After a few glasses of brandy to relax, he was tired and wanted some sleep, but his mind kept wandering upstairs to his wife.
If he went to her and asked her to spend this last night with him, would she? He knew he could convince her after some struggle, but he wanted her to come to him when next they made love. Call it pride, call it a need to know she cared, it didn’t matter. If she did not want him, he would not force her, at least not until he had all the answers he needed.
Since he would not be getting his wish, he closed his eyes to enjoy the images of her in the recesses of his mind. A small sound outside the room caught his attention. Careful not to make a sound, he rose and slipped about the desk to hide beside a bookshelf.
The door opened wide and he grimaced. It was Catherine. He was ready to leap out at her if she tried to seek his papers, but thought to give her time to incriminate herself. Although it pained him to set her up this way, he knew it was best. There might be no need to waste time going to England, after all.
As she made her way into the room, she seemed upset about something. She appeared to be in no hurry. Curiously, she didn’t seem to be interested in any of the room’s contents. He watched her sigh heavily. Was she wrestling with her conscience? She moved closer to his desk and lit a candle.
Sure he had made a huge mistake in caring for her, he saw her sit in his chair. If she was going to snoop, now was the perfect time. Ready to step forward, he stopped as she reached for a piece of stationary and his fountain pen. She began to write something he could not see from where he stood. Carefully, quietly, he eased closer.
Ransom nearly gasped when he saw her write his name on the top of the sheet. Even though he wanted to see what she would say to him, he made himself known. “What has you wandering about at this hour, madam?” he spoke, making her croak out a cry of alarm.
“Ransom! You scared me to death!” Her hand grasped her throat.
“You startled me, as well.” He moved to balance his hip on the desk at her side. “No one is supposed to enter here, or did you forget?”
“I came looking for you and, when you were not in your room or here, I thought I would leave you a message.”
Arching a dark brow, he couldn’t resist a grin. “So you dared to venture to my room, did you?” She nodded shyly. “And you sought me here, knowing you should not.”
“I had to see you before you left.”
Leaning to brace his arm on his thigh, he drew closer to her. “Pray tell, kitten, what was so important that you would risk my wrath by disobeying me?”
Lowering her lashes, Catherine murmured, “Have I angered you, m’lord?”
Ransom’s hand gently lifted her chin. “That depends on why you were looking for me.” In the dim light of the candle, he saw her cheeks blush, then he noticed she wore her nightclothes. “Was it possible you wished to say farewell privately?”
She looked up at him through her lashes and ran her tongue over her lips, not realizing her actions were answer enough. “I did want to see you alone,” she said, her voice husky. “But it was n-not to say farewell.” Slowly she pushed back the chair and stood. “I know you do not think well of me, but I wish . . . I want us to part on good terms.” She moved away from him and he let her go, knowing she wanted to say something more to him.
“M’lord, I—”
“Ransom,” he interrupted as he rose to move about the desk to be nearer to her. “For tonight, let us just be Ransom and Catherine, a man and a woman. There will be no ties, no allegiance to anyone or any country.”
She moved to stand before him and placed her hands on his chest. Without a word, her hand slid upward to circle his neck and draw his head toward hers.
He wanted to take her in his arms, but he let her lead the way. She was giving herself to him freely and he dared not scare her away. Her kiss began tentatively, a mere brushing of their lips. Then he felt her tongue dart across his mouth in teasing little movements.
“Our time is short, my precious kitten,” he growled, unable to stand her teasing. “I would taste your lips fully before the night is past.”
With both her arms about his neck, she pressed her breasts to his chest. “I have sworn to obey you, Ransom,” she smiled as she pulled his head to hers.
She learned well, this wife of his. Her tongue met his, dueling in an age-old battle to break down the barriers between them. As her mouth tempted and teased, he felt her hands moving back down his chest. The little tigress was undressing him! He let her have her way until she fumbled at his breeches.
“Don’t you think we should go upstairs?” he asked, his voice beginning to shake with desire as her mouth moved to caress his chest.
“No, m’lord,” she purred, flicking her tongue over him the same way he had done to her. She grew bolder as he drew a sharp breath. “This is my night,” she sighed as she blew a tiny breath along the line of hair that tapered down his chest.
Ransom stood frozen as she eased her mouth down his body. He felt his breeches part, releasing his pulsing manhood. Sure she was ready to touch him, his body jerked fiercely when he felt her warm breath caressing him. He reached to gather hands full of her hair to stop her. “Where did you learn that?”
Her green eyes were troubled as she looked up at him. “I’m s-sorry. I thought you would like—”
He dropped to his knees and drew her into his arms. “I like it fine, my love,” he growled, his tone edged with the agony of unleashed desire. “Too fine. Our night might well be over too quickly if I let you caress me like that.” He could see she did not understand. Rising, he drew her to her feet and swept her into his arms. “Come, love. I’ll show you.”
Chapter Fifteen
* * *
Catherine stretched and reached out her hand to touch the warm shoulder of her husband, but he was not there. Sitting up quickly, she found the bed empty. A deep sadness filled her as she realized he was gone. She dropped back on the rumpled bed as she closed her eyes to stop her tears.
She had not told him good-bye. They spent most of the night making love. Not once did either of them speak coherently. From the moment he carried her into his room, their energies were devoted to pleasing and pleasure.
Ransom warned her if she caressed him with her mouth, the night might be over, but she proved him wrong and learned the power of being a woman at the same time. Her only regret was that she was so worn out, she fell into a deep sleep and did not hear him leave.
Perhaps it was best, she thought. She had become addicted to Ransom. His mere touch sent fire through her veins. She might have disgraced herself at their parting if she had declared her love. Since he seemed determined to seek the t
ruth as only he could trust it, he might think her words a ploy to stop him.
She wondered why her heritage was so important to him. It wasn’t as if she were a spy or something as distasteful. Then she could have understood his mission. Much could be at stake then. She didn’t know to what lengths Ransom was involved in the war, but she knew more than his life could be at stake if a spy invaded their midst.
Since there was nothing she could do now that he was gone, she decided to assure his return would be the best it could be. She tossed back the covers and could not stop a blush when she saw bruises on her thighs. Ransom proved himself insatiable and capable of fierce lovemaking—much to her delight.
“Hurry home,” she whispered to the silent room, “so I can tell you I love you.”
* * *
Days turned to weeks. Catherine labored about the house like a woman possessed. She wanted everything prepared perfectly for him and found herself making plans for the coming winter. She knew he would discover that she truly was Sabrina’s cousin. The knowledge gave her confidence he would return to lay claim to her forever.
Her world took on the aura of happiness she only dreamed of during her days in England. The only thing to darken her days was an illness she could not explain. It lasted only minutes each morning. The rest of the day she felt positively radiant. After the first week of the unusual bouts, she thought she should speak to Alice. The opportunity arose the morning after her decision, but it was Alice who instigated the discussion.
“Ya all right, Mistress?” she asked. “Ya look ta be ill.”
“I will be fine in a few minutes,” Catherine replied as she turned away from the pan of bacon frying on the stove. She grimaced and went to the back door to draw deep breaths of fresh air.
Alice followed. “Has this been happenin’ before today?”
Catherine frowned, curious about why Alice would ask. “Has what been happening?”
“This feelin’ you’re havin’.”
Catherine’s stomach settled quickly, so she returned to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of tea. She took it to the table. “It is the first time I have felt ill this late in the day.” She sat and released a sigh. “But recently I have not felt too well when I awaken. I think I might be unsettled by the warmer weather than I experienced in England.”
Smiling gently, Alice took a chair across from her. “I don’t think so.”
Worried, Catherine gazed at Alice with a furrowed brow. “Do you suspect something else?” Alice nodded. Catherine would have been more concerned, but Alice was still smiling. “What is it, do you think?”
Alice beamed as she reached for her hand. “I think it is a child begun ta grow inside ya,” she announced. She squeezed Catherine’s hand.
Catherine stared, dumbfounded. She never dreamed she was with child! “How can I be—”
Alice’s laughter rang through the kitchen. “What with all the time you and the Cap’n spent together, I thought ya could put two and two together.” Catherine felt herself go scarlet. “Ain’t nothin’ ta be embarrassed about, child. It’s what all wives have ta put up with, but it gets us the children we want.”
Thinking of the pleasures she and Ransom shared, Catherine couldn’t truly say she put up with him. In fact, she had absolutely no second thoughts about what they shared. But it never occurred to her such pleasure would lead to children. From the tidbits she’d heard, the act to create children was supposedly distasteful. That certainly was not so in her case.
“A child,” she breathed. She lowered her hands to her flat stomach. “Are you sure?”
“There will be other signs, dear,” Alice grinned. “When was the last time ya had your monthlies?”
Scowling at the thought, Catherine tried to recall. “Before Ransom . . . the captain . . . before we ever—”
“Then I would say ya got a good chance,” Alice laughed heartily.
Catherine rose and walked slowly about the room. She avoided getting too close to the stove. She couldn’t think of anything to say. She was simply too wrapped up in her thoughts. A child. His child! The pleasure they shared produced this miracle. She turned to face Alice as a troublesome thought invaded her happiness.
“Do you think he will be pleased?”
“Yes, child,” Alice said gently and rose to wrap her arms about Catherine. “I think he’ll be very pleased.” Alice added, “Ya know how men are. They act like they’re the only one who ever got a lass pregnant when they’re havin’ a babe.”
Catherine nodded, not knowing at all. “Has he had other children?” she asked shyly.
Alice brought her back to the table and made her sit. “Not ta my knowledge. He wasn’t never one ta chase skirts.”
Extremely pleased with that bit of information, Catherine smiled. For a man who didn’t chase skirts, he certainly had been persistent with her. “A baby. We’re going to have a baby.”
Holden came to a halt just inside the door. “You?” he asked as he stumbled forward to sit across from her. She nodded with a broad smile.
“Well, I’ll be!” he chuckled. He rose to move to her side and draw her to her feet for a firm hug. “I’m happy for you, Catherine, and I can’t wait to see that fool when you tell him.”
Catherine tipped her head and frowned. “Do you think he will be pleased?”
“I think he will be so damned cocky there will be no living with him, right after he hangs his head in shame for ever having doubted you.”
It took Catherine a moment to decipher his words, but she finally thought she understood. “You believe me,” she stated in surprise.
“Of course I believe you.” Holden laughed. “And Ran would believe you, too, if he wasn’t so afraid he was going to lose the best thing that ever came into his life.” Catherine sat again as he knelt beside her. “He has dedicated his life to this new country partly because of his love for it, but he also needed something to go right.” He went on to tell her about how Ransom was shunned by friends and society on the basis of a lie. “It made him leery, especially of women.”
“But he was innocent. How could they have believed that woman?”
Holden frowned. “He was no saint in those days.”
“He was young,” Catherine defended Ransom.
“True, and as he grew older he became dedicated to the truth. Unfortunately, he also grew bitter and could not trust.”
Catherine raised her eyes to face Holden squarely. “I love him, Holden. I swear I would never hurt him.”
A broad grin lit Holden’s handsome face. “I know, Catherine, and he will know, too.”
She couldn’t prevent tears from filling her eyes. “But he has put himself in danger to learn it.”
“Don’t worry,” he consoled. “Ransom can take care of himself.” He glanced down at where her hands cradled the next generation of Kents and chuckled. “But I still can’t wait to see him trying to take care of his son.”
“It could be a lass,” Alice interjected, her hands firmly planted on her hips.
Holden threw back his head and laughed. “It wouldn’t dare! His pride would forbid it.”
Catherine smiled at her two friends. Holden was right. Ransom would want a son. His arrogance and virility would all but demand it. To do her part, she would pray for a son every night until the child was born. There was nothing she wanted more than to make Ransom proud of the child they created together.
* * *
Catherine never dreamed she would come to care for this new land as deeply as she did. A good part of the cause was the people. At first, the townspeople seemed a bit reluctant to accept her. After all, she was English. But Holden reminded them all of their mixed heritages. After that she found herself accepted into the small community of Nyack.
Having been raised in the country, there was much she could share with the people she met. She organized the talents of the women to start a bartering system. It would help them all better survive the winter.
Holden escorted her
everywhere. She was filled with such energy and enthusiasm he frequently grumbled she was doing too much for her condition.
“You shouldn’t be lifting those laundry baskets,” Holden nagged, taking it from her.
“And how is it to get to the line?” she grinned as she withdrew the first of several sheets.
Holden cast her a scathing glance. “Don’t be flippant, girl,” he teased. “I don’t want to bear Ran’s wrath if anything goes wrong.”
“Nothing is going to go wrong,” she laughed. “I am healthy and would not be able to bear sitting around doing nothing until I deliver. I am sure that would do me more harm than good.”
“Okay,” Holden relented. “But I’m going to see about hiring another girl.”
Playful, Catherine laughed. “Sell those ugly candlesticks for her wages. That is what I did.”
Holden stared, then a rumble of laughter erupted from his throat. “That’s why you took them?”
“Yes,” she replied, turning to wonder at his laughter. “The house was in disrepair and I needed help. I had no funds and thought—”
“Oh, Catherine,” he interrupted. “Ran thought— Why didn’t you tell him?”
She plopped her hands on her hips. “Because I did not care for his accusations.” Bringing her hands before her to twist them together, she shrugged. “Besides, he had set his mind to my guilt of something, although I am still not exactly sure what. All I know is that I did not think he would believe me, anyway.”
“Probably not,” Holden agreed and set the basket on the ground to rub the tears of amusement from his eyes. “But he’s not going to be happy to discover he has been made such a fool by a wisp of a girl.”
“He made himself the fool,” she argued.
“So he did,” Holden chuckled. “So he did.”
* * *
“I’ve been such a fool,” Ransom sighed as he cradled his head in his hands.
The Rebel's Bride Page 17
