Tempting Torment (The McClellans Series, Book 3) Author's Cut Edition

by Jo Goodman

  * * *

  Noah woke at first light and remembering yesterday's events was the least of his problems. He recalled everything with a clarity that only added to the pounding in his head. Had he really just rolled off her and fallen asleep like some green youth sated with his first woman? Yes, he had done exactly that. Noah sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and held his aching head in his hands. God! He must have made her feel like a whore! Hell, he had treated tavern wenches better than he had treated this woman.

  And he had taken her too soon. He knew that as well. She hadn't been ready for him and he had known it even if she didn't. He should have realized there would be some pain for her after so long an abstinence. And she was small... and tight... and... sweet, so sweet. Noah groaned aloud. He had told her that, too. He had never spoken to another woman like that, no matter how much drink or passion had loosed his tongue. It didn't set well with him that he had lost control. Making love shouldn't have been so special with her. He was only exacting the price for his protection. She was only—finally—paying the piper. Why should anything he said or did with her bother him?

  Noah stood, slipped on his drawers, and walked over to the washbasin. He poured clear, cold water into the bowl and splashed his face with it After he rinsed his mouth of the sour taste of grog, sleep, and the odd taste of peppermint, he shaved. The face that stared back at him in the mirror was less haggard than he expected it to be. One night of drink and debauching hardly showed, he mocked himself. The hammering in his head, however, was another matter entirely. Noah put down his razor and wiped the last traces of soap from his chin. When he heard Gideon moving about in the other room he was relieved to have something to do other than torture himself with more questions and recriminations.

  Noah changed the infant, found the cloth ball and the string of beads, and carried Gideon and his toys into the main room. "Don't wake your mother," he whispered. "Cam will be here with your breakfast before you realize how hungry you are."

  "His mother's already awake," Jessa said sleepily. She patted the space beside her. "Bring him over here. We'll wait out Cam together."

  Noah approached the bed and saw Jessa's shift lying at the foot of it. Beneath the covers she was naked, and he remembered everything about her slender form. The lithe line of her surprisingly long legs. The curve of her bottom. Her delicate waist. The lush fullness of her breasts. Everything. He swallowed hard. "I think it would be a good idea if you put something on, Jessa. Else Cam might get an eyeful." Or I may be reduced to a blithering idiot, he added silently, and I won't thank you for it.

  Jessa was becoming used to the feeling of shame accompanied by the desire to burrow under the covers. Until this moment she had quite forgotten the state of her undress and the reasons for it. Apparently he had not. Noah was watching her carefully, thoughtfully. He might be cooing in Gideon's ear and bouncing the baby in his arms, but his eyes were on her. Waiting. And she hadn't the slightest idea what he was expecting.

  Thoroughly unnerved, Jessa groped at the foot of the bed for her shift while trying to keep the comforter discreetly situated in front of her. She clutched it in her fingers and gave in to her fondest wish. Dragging the thick blanket over her head in a desperate flourish, she buried herself and the shift beneath it.

  Gideon laughed because Noah laughed. Noah laughed because the sight of Jessa trying to put on her shift underneath the comforter was something to behold. There could have been three people under there for all the activity that was going on. She stretched, kicked, and cursed, and the comforter billowed, tangled, and fluttered. When she finally peeked out over the edge, Noah wasn't even alarmed by the glaring look she sent him. He knew her well enough to know it was feigned, exaggerated at the very least. He also knew from watching her moments before she went into hiding that she didn't regret having slept with him. Her clear gray eyes told him that. Noah believed the remainder of the journey to Virginia would not be without its rewards.

  He plopped Gideon beside Jessa and sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. "You weren't this shy last night," he pointed out with an amused half-grin. "Reticent, perhaps, but not timid."

  "That was... different." she said lamely.

  "Oh?"

  Jessa sat up and straightened the modest neckline of her gown. "Gideon wasn't here then," she said primly.

  Noah choked back more laughter. "You can do better than that."

  She glanced at Gideon and saw that he was supremely uninterested in the conversation. He was amusing himself with his beads and kicking at the comforter. "And it was dark last night."

  Noah's eyes glinted with humor. "It usually is. Dark, that is. At night."

  "You know what I mean."

  "I don't think I do. If you mean that I couldn't see you last night, then you're mistaken. I saw you very well." His eyes darkened as they traveled over her suggestively. "You were wearing moonlight and starshine. The only thing I don't know is the color of your nipples." He paused a beat, "Pink?"

  Jessa picked up Gideon's ball and threw it at Noah's head. He ducked and it sailed right over him. Not that it would have had much effect, she thought dismally. Dropping a blacksmith's anvil directly on his skull from a height of ten feet might, just might, have the desired consequence.

  "What are you plotting?" he asked.

  She blinked, startled by his perception. "How did you know?"

  Noah shrugged. "I just do. You have a very expressive face, you know. I'm afraid it doesn't do you much good to dissemble. Your eyes and your mouth give you away every time."

  Jessa could have told him a few truths that would have erased his smug look. Noah didn't know as much as he thought he did. "They do?" she asked sweetly.

  "Mm-hmm. A moment ago you were contemplating murder. Now you're thinking there are things about you I don't know."

  She wasn't quick enough to hide her surprise. "Aren't there?" she asked uneasily.

  "I'm sure there are." Noah leaned forward on his hands, careful not to disrupt Gideon's play, and stole a kiss from Jessa's parted lips. "The color of your nipples for one." He lifted his head and held her gaze. "Have a care with your secrets, Jessa," he warned. "Don't use them to taunt me. I can be quite ruthless in searching them out if I choose."

  Jessa paled but said nothing.

  Noah sat back and ruffled the edge of the comforter to get Gideon's attention. The infant giggled and made a grab at it. But when he spoke it was to Jessa. "I've been thinking about what happened last night."

  "You have?" she asked. She wished he wouldn't talk about it.

  "I didn't give a very good account of myself. I had too much to drink, forced my attentions when I promised not to, and then passed out."

  "You didn't force me," she said, wondering where he was leading. "I never said no."

  Noah shook his head. "As I recall, you did. Several times."

  His memory certainly hadn't been impaired, Jessa thought anxiously. Still, he had no cause to reproach himself, at least not on this matter, and as yet, she had no reason to fear he believed anything but what she told him last night. "You were rather more persistent than usual," she teased, striving for lightness.

  Noah wasn't having any of it. "I hurt you. That was never part of what I wanted."

  "N-no. You didn't." What would he think if he knew he had helped her get rid of the one bit of evidence that could have destroyed her future as well as Gideon's? He had actually freed her to belong to another man, a man who might love her and one she could love in return. She would never have to fear that it would be discovered that Gideon wasn't her child. "And anyway, it... it was my fault if you did. I... I was too eager." She lowered her eyes, embarrassed.

  About to tell her that he had found her eagerness exciting, Noah swallowed the words whole. His gaze fastened on the part of the bed revealed as Gideon pushed the comforter aside. The sheet beneath was stained with blood. He threw back the blanket and saw several smaller stains. "Oh, dear Lord, Jessa. Why didn't you say an
ything?"

  Jessa's attention was drawn to the sheet and she felt herself near fainting with the enormity of her deception. She hadn't given any thought at all to the fact that she might bleed. It was odd, she thought miserably. There were women who would have been proud to show their husbands the proof of their virginity. Some women were even reduced to trickery to give the evidence. And here she was, the morning after her true wedding night, having to find some reason that would explain it away.

  There were three things she could tell him. One was the truth, and it would not serve. Second was to fall back on the explanation he was so ready to believe: that he had rent her while forcing his entry. Jessa shied away from telling him that. For reasons she could not entirely fathom she didn't want to make Noah feel guilty.

  So it was the third explanation that came tumbling out of her mouth. "It's my monthly courses, Noah... I didn't realize. Oh, God!" She raised her hands to her warm cheeks. "I'm sorry. Is it possible to expire from embarrassment?" she asked woefully. Neither her expression nor the tone were entirely feigned.

  Noah quickly threw the comforter back into place and put Gideon on top so he couldn't push it aside again. "I didn't mean to embarrass you," he said. "I thought I had done... I don't know, something." He raised his hands helplessly, vaguely embarrassed himself. "Is there something I can get you? I don't know much about—"

  "Oh, please, don't go on." She peeped at Noah from between her fingers. There was ruddy color in his own cheeks. Jessa had to restrain the urge to laugh. "If I could just have some privacy," she told him gently. "Perhaps you could find Cam and ask him about our breakfast."

  Noah was off the bed and gathering his clothes before Jessa finished her sentence.

  "It's not leprosy, you know," Jessa said, biting back a smile as Noah hopped on one foot and jammed his other leg into his breeches. "I don't even have to be quarantined."

  "I know that," he said, changing his stance and repeating the procedure. He fastened his breeches at the waist, shooting a sideways glance at Jessa. "Are you making light of me?"

  "A little. I didn't mean for you to rush out of here."

  She picked up Gideon and put him on her lap, ruffling his hair with her fingertips.

  "I'm not rushing," he denied, pulling on his shirt. "You wanted some privacy, didn't you?" He slipped on his shoes without putting on his stockings, but just to make certain she didn't think he was in such a hurry to leave, Noah leaned over the bed and gave Jessa a very thorough, very leisurely kiss. He only broke away because Gideon knocked him in the chin with a dimpled fist. Noah chuckled, brushed her lips again, and dropped a kiss on Gideon's downy cap of hair. "Just wait, young man, until you want to kiss a beautiful woman. You won't want any interference, either."

  He was at the door when Jessa found her voice. "Noah?"

  "Hmm?" he turned, opening the door behind him.

  "Your shirt is on backward."

  "Oh." His grin was sheepish. So much for not rushing.

  "And inside out."

  Noah made his escape quickly, and as he stood in the companionway righting his clothes he heard Jessa's happy laughter, then Gideon's musical giggles. He didn't even try to suppress the smile that came so easily to his lips.

  Noah bumped into Cam on the narrow stairs leading to the upper deck. He grasped the boy by the shoulders and steadied him. "There. That's better. Mornin', Cam."

  "G'mornin', Mr. Noah." He eased himself out of Noah's grasp, offered a quick smile, then resumed his rush down the companionway.

  "Hold up!"

  Cam skittered to a halt and turned. "Yes, sir?"

  "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

  "Have to tell the cap'n that Ross Booker's been put aboard the Sargus."

  "Wait a minute," Noah said, approaching the boy. "Do you mean the prisoner's been transferred? When did this happen?"

  "Just a little while ago. It was Captain Riddle's orders, sir, just as soon as Mr. Macy told him about sighting the other ship. 'Ask them if they'll transport our prisoner,' says the cap'n. And Mr. Macy signaled the Sargas and they said they would and then Booker was rowed over to them and now he's gone. On his way back to England, he is. Only the cap'n don't know it's been done coz he's nursin' a sore head in his quarters." Cam paused for breath and darted a glance at Noah. "You don't look near as bad as the cap'n, if you don't mind me sayin' so."

  Realizing his headache was indeed gone, Noah grinned. "No, I don't mind you saying so, but don't tell Captain Riddle. I'm sure the only thing easing his suffering is the thought that I'm suffering more."

  Cam smiled brightly. "Those are almost his exact words."

  Noah chuckled. "Well, when you've given him the message, will you take care of breakfast for my wife and son? Gideon's good humor this morning can't be pressed much longer."

  "What about you, sir? Your breakfast, I mean."

  "I'll eat something with the crew." He started to turn away, then stopped. "Oh, and Cam? Mrs. McClellan will be needing water for washing Gideon's things. Get someone to help you with it though; don't do it all yourself. And some water for bathing, too. That's fresh salt water, Cam," he added when Cam looked as if he were about to ask. "On both counts." He watched Cam bob a quick assent then hurry off. Noah realized he was going to miss the boy once they anchored at the landing. If he were taking Jessa and Gideon to Philadelphia he'd have asked Cam to join them. Noah put a brake on that thought almost as soon as he heard himself say it. God! What was he thinking? Jessa and Gideon in Philadelphia? It was absurd.

  Once Noah got to the upper deck, he went straight to the taffrail and joined several of the crew who were also in need of answering nature's early morning call. He ignored their gentle ribbing when they accused him of being too shy to relieve himself in front of his wife. Their humor was ribald and bawdy but directed at him, not Jessa, and Noah let them have their fun. Nothing, he thought, was going to interfere with his good spirits this morning. Yet a moment later, when he glanced down at himself as he was righting the front fall of his drawers and saw the flecks of blood on his cock, he found out how wrong he could be.

  Slightly dazed by his discovery, Noah fastened the front of his breeches and walked away from the taffrail. He sat down slowly on a coil of rope directly below the mizzenmast. His knees were hunched to his chest and his back pressed firmly against the mast for support. Staring straight ahead, without seeing anything but the image of Jessa's face, Noah tried to make sense of this new evidence.

  He no longer believed the blood was the result of Jessa's monthly courses. It seemed highly unlikely that her flow had begun when he penetrated her. And she would have had some suspicion that her time was near, wouldn't she? Yet she hadn't prepared for it. She hadn't worn anything beneath her shift, and Noah had lived with her long enough to know some of her intimate habits. Jessa was nothing if not fastidious about her personal care. Ticking back the days on his fingers, Noah tried to remember the last time he was vaguely aware that she was having her monthly flow. He only had to go back two weeks for his answer. Not nearly long enough for Jessa's explanation to ring true.

  Noah pressed one hand to his forehead, massaging the ache that had returned with a vengeance. Above him the sails snapped with all the vicious noise of a thunderclap. The sun disappeared behind a cloud and a cold gray shadow fell over Noah, suiting his mood perfectly.

  So why had Jessa lied? he wondered. Why hadn't she told him that he had hurt her very badly indeed? Unless... unless that wasn't the truth either. But that would mean... no, the idea was patently absurd. Noah massaged his temple harder as if he could rub out the last thought. But it would not be erased so easily and Noah found himself dwelling on it, arguing both sides of the question.

  She had been a virgin.

  No, fool, she was married.

  She says she was married.

  But she has a child.

  She says Gideon is her child.

  Of course, he's her son. You can see how much she loves him.

&nbs
p; There's no denying she loves him, but is he her son?

  Yes. Yes. Gideon's her child.

  Then she wasn't a virgin.

  "Dammit, she was a virgin!"

  Several nearby crew members stopped working and glanced in Noah's direction. "Beggin' your pardon, Mr. McClellan," one of them said, "but none of us ever made a comment one way or t'other."

  Noah scowled at the man. "I wasn't talking to you. I was thinking aloud."

  "Aye, that you were. No good ever comes of it." He ducked his head and bent over his mop when Noah continued to glare at him.

  Shaken that he had actually spoken his thoughts out loud, Noah gritted his teeth to keep it from happening again. Now where had he been? Oh, yes. Shouting that she was a virgin. There was a Banbury tale, he grimaced, yet the longer he considered it, the more he believed it was true. He thought about Jessa's insistence that the marriage be one of convenience, her desire not to have it consummated. The cunning bitch. She wasn't mourning a dead husband, she was guarding herself.

  So why did she allow me to make love to her last night?

  Because she thought you were so stinking drunk you'd never be the wiser.

  And Noah knew that was the truth, too. There had been that incredible look of astonishment on her face when she had seen him fully aroused. Groaning softly, he remembered her tightness, the resistance, all of which she swept away by thrusting into him. This morning she blushed beautifully and shyly told him she had been eager. With his new insight, Noah realized she had been desperate, not eager. If it hadn't been for the blood and Jessa's quickly constructed lie, which had more holes than a sieve, he might have never stumbled upon the truth.

  Not that he understood how everything fit together, he acknowledged grimly. Yet there was a point on which the lines of truth and falsehood seemed to converge: Gideon.

  Who is he?

  Ask Jessa.

  I can't. Well, I could, but she won't tell me. She doesn't trust me.

  Not yet. That could change.

  She doesn't know how to tell the truth. She wants her damn secrets.