Lady Thorn

by Catherine Archer

  Harry Fairfield turned to her with surprise. “I hope I have done nothing to upset you.”

  She shook her head, feeling Jedidiah’s intent gaze upon her. Victoria refused to look at him, could not do so if she was to follow through with her intentions. “No, of course not. You have been most kind. I simply must see to some things that I have neglected.” She took a deep breath. “It is my hope, though, that you would allow my cousin to stay on. I believe he is gaining much from your fresh country air.”

  She watched as Squire Harry gave Jed a long, assessing look that he seemed totally unaware of. The American was now studying his wineglass with intense concentration. Suddenly she wondered if the squire might be coming to suspect that something was wrong. The unspoken message that Jedidiah and Nina Fairfield had exchanged on meeting one another had been obvious to her. Perhaps she was not the only one.

  She put the thought aside, reminding herself as the squire nodded slowly that Jedidiah was making his own way here. She had no say in it.

  Harry Fairfield spoke evenly. “Of course you must stay on, Mr. McBride. I would be happy to put the brougham at your disposal at any time you wish to take your leave.”

  Jedidiah glanced up, replying in an emotionless tone. “Thank you, sir. I am very grateful for your consideration.”

  Victoria forced herself to meet his gaze as he turned to her. It was as cool and distant as the moon. He arched a brow as she stared at him in consternation, and she drew herself upright. She would not let him see how hurt she was, how much she cared. The sooner she was away, the better.

  Victoria was just moving toward the large bed, with its ruffled pink counterpane, when a knock sounded at her door. Victoria pulled her robe close about her, wondering if Betty had come back to offer her assistance again. Victoria had sent the girl away once, not being in the mood to listen to her chatter.

  She opened the door, holding a candle before her. “Please, there is no need…” She halted, her heart giving a double beat, as she saw Jedidiah McBride standing there. “Cousin… Mr. McBride.”

  He looked at her for a long, indefinable moment, his lips curled sardonically. “Mr. McBride. Are we back to that, after everything that has happened between us, Victoria?”

  She swallowed, wanting to tell him how much she cared, that she loved him more than life itself. But she dared not, had no right to do so. She looked into the candle’s flame, willing herself not to react. “I… Yes. I think it would be best now, under the circumstances. Don’t you?”

  He paused for a time, then glanced around self-consciously. “Do you mind if I come in? Anyone might see us if I keep standing here in the hall.”

  Victoria nodded, stepping back. “Of course.” He would not want Nina to think there was anything between them.

  She watched as Jedidiah came into the comfortably furnished chamber and shut the heavy oak door. He then turned and looked at her thoughtfully. Victoria forced herself to remain passive under his scrutiny, though she wanted to turn away, afraid those fathomless eyes of his would see how very responsive she was to his presence even now.

  He surprised her with his next words. “You are going back to London to tell Sinclair you will marry him.”

  She was still for a moment. The idea had not even entered her head. Guilt assaulted her, for she’d not given Ian the least thought since sending him a note telling him she was going to the country. But she would not tell Jedidiah that. She wanted him to feel he was free of her. “Yes,” she replied. “As we have discussed previously, it is for the best.” Even as she said it, Victoria knew she was telling a falsehood. She could not marry Ian, not feeling as she did about the man before her.

  A muscle flexed in his lean jaw. “I…I thought as much.” He hesitated, then went on. “I came here to say thank-you. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Without you, I would never have found Andrew. He is all that I imagined and more. Quick of mind, strong, loving, imaginative.” She could hear the awe, affection and amazement in his tone as he spoke of the boy, and it moved her more than she could have said.

  She took a step closer to him, unable to put into words her joy that he would share his feelings about the child with her. “He’s quite a boy, Jedidiah. How proud you must be.”

  He looked into her eyes, his own sad. “I can hardly take credit for his upbringing, though, for that was not my doing. It is Harry Fairfield who has raised him as a son to be proud of.”

  “But you will have a hand in his future,” she said, turning away so that he would not see her sorrow. “When you take him back to America, he will come to know you as he always should have.”

  Jedidiah hesitated for a long moment, then nodded. When he spoke again, his voice was oddly distracted. “Yes, when I take him back to America. He’ll come to know me then.”

  She barely heard this, as the pain of his leaving hit her afresh. She turned her back on him. “I shall miss you, Jedidiah. I am glad we have known one another.”

  “Victoria.” She heard him directly behind her, but she could not bring herself to look around. “Victoria.” When still she did not answer, he put a hand on her arm. Even that slight contact caused her stomach to contract with need.

  She closed her eyes, willing the feelings away. They had never been more unwelcome to her. Her voice was husky with emotion when she spoke. “Please, Jedidiah, you must leave now.”

  Gently but determinedly, Jed turned her toward him, reaching down to lift her face to his questing gaze. What he saw in her eyes made him catch his breath, for there was no denying the sadness, and desire, in her eyes.

  They had been through so much, awakened each other to a depth of passion that few ever know. Never had it been so very difficult for him to say goodbye to anyone, but he knew he must, for her sake. Jed could not stop himself, leaning forward to kiss those soft pink lips this one last time. But as soon as his mouth met hers, he—they—were lost.

  Victoria reached up to pull at the buttons of his white linen shirt.

  He felt an explosion of heat in his loins that shocked him. All the things he had tried to convince himself of, that he could resist his desire for her, that he could forget what they had shared, all meant nothing in the face of this incredible, raging need.

  Jed reached up to push her robe back from her shoulders, his mouth descending to a delicate bare shoulder as he did so. He then moved up to press hot kisses to her throat as she threw back her head, her fingers twining in his hair.

  Victoria had no time to think, did not want to do so. Her need and love for this man overrode every other thought in her mind. There was nothing but Jedidiah, his smooth, hard-muscled shoulders beneath her hands, his lips on her heated flesh.

  She pulled at his shirt even as he reached down to draw her nightgown over her head. They were separated for a mere fraction of a moment, but she was still eager and grateful when they came together again, her bare body pressing tightly to his.

  He bent to suckle her aching breasts, and she found it difficult to breathe at all, the pleasure of it was so great. A trail as hot as boiling tallow shot directly to the core of her. She gasped aloud, arching her back.

  The sound of her passion only drove him on, and Jed knelt to caress her belly with his mouth and tongue, feeling it quiver at his touch. He moved on, lingering in the dark patch of curls that guarded the gate to her womanhood.

  Victoria could bear it no longer. All the pent-up longing she’d known over the past days erupted into a blaze of passion so hot that it scorched her through to her very soul. She bent over him, her knees so weak she could hardly stand. “Please, Jedidiah, please, no more. I must have you now.”

  Jed needed no more encouragement than this. He stood and pulled her to him. His hands trailed down her back as his lips found hers and she gave him a kiss that near drew the blood from his veins.

  “How I want you…” she whispered hoarsely, her breath mingling with his.

  His hands moved of their own accord, reached down to close over th
e firm mounds of her bottom. She leaned against him, standing on tiptoe as she encouraged him. He kissed her open mouth as he lifted her against the hard, aching need of him.

  To his surprise, she reached up to clasp his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. He slid into her as if she were made for him, the perfect sheath for his eager blade.

  He closed his eyes on the sheer pleasure of it, his knees weak. He took two steps, holding her up against the door as she cried out his name. “Jed…” Her lips rained kisses on his face and neck, and he drove into her again and again, striving to quench his loneliness and need with her sweet body. Only now could he feel right, for never was he whole without her.

  She met him eagerly, gasping out her own passion as she reached the peak of fulfillment. “Oh, yes, Jed.”

  Her ecstasy triggered his, and he found himself shuddering against her body, calling her name, “Victoria,” as the fierce passion they shared exploded in a cascade of glittering pleasure.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As the ripples of pleasure ebbed away, Victoria sagged against Jedidiah with a sigh. But with the ebbing of pleasure came the heartbreaking sorrow of reality.

  Her chest tightened until it was difficult to breathe as the pain hit her full force. Why, oh, why, had she done this?

  Inside her, Victoria knew it was because she loved him. It was a force she had no power to resist, and if she was honest with herself, she knew she did not want to resist.

  It was Jedidiah who had made the choice that they could not be together. Not Victoria. Were it her right to say, they would never be apart again.

  She saw no reason why they could not be together, marry, start a family and continue the Thorn line. It was what she desired above all else. This man, the one who held her so close against him even now, whose beloved breath stirred her hair, he would not let it be.

  Damn him, she cursed silently, a sob catching in her throat. She jerked away, upset with him for hurting her and with herself for being hurt.

  Jedidiah leaned over to look at her, his expression confused. “Victoria?” When he saw the resentment on her face, he scowled. “What is the matter?”

  The ridiculousness of the question caused her indignation to turn to fury. “What is the matter?” She faced him squarely, folding her arms across her chest. “I will tell you, sir, what is the matter. You are.”

  He took a surprised step backward, even as an answering anger rose to spark in his eyes. “Me? What have I done? If you think I came here to…” He gestured widely.

  Victoria could not even find it within herself to be embarrassed at this reference to what had just taken place between them. She was far beyond mortification, feeling as if her only chance at happiness were slipping through her fingers. Deliberately she moved toward him, her hands on her hips, with only the dark fall of her hair to cover her nakedness. “That is not the problem. The problem lies in your stubborn refusals to see that we are good together, that if we tried we might be able to make something together.” There, it was said, and she wasn’t going to be ashamed for laying herself bare.

  He was shaking his head, that dreaded icy cast setting his features, and her heart sank even further. “No, you don’t understand, Victoria. Do you remember the day I came to your room, the day you had been crying?” He didn’t have to remind her that it had been the second time they made love. The knowledge of it was there in her eyes.

  At her nod, he went on. “I had gone into the city, to a part I’m sure you’ve never been. The conditions there are dreadful.”

  She interrupted. “I may have been there. My father founded a home for wayward girls. I continue to support it.”

  He sighed with frustration. “Do you see what I’m saying? Your father founded a home. You continue to support it.” He put his hand over his heart. “I lived among those people. Not in London, but in Bar Harbor, where I grew up. It was dirty and sordid and rough.” He motioned toward his shirt and trousers, where they had been tossed on the floor. “I am an impostor in those fine clothes, making small talk with aristocrats. Even the wealth I have gained was started through the goodwill of Sebastian Cook. If he hadn’t left me a half interest in the business, I would still be nothing more than a laborer, working in his factory.”

  She moved to stand as near to him as she could, willing him to listen to what she had to say. “But you are not a laborer working in his factory, Jedidiah. He left you a share in his business because your ideas saved it. He would not have done so if you didn’t deserve it. He was simply a fair and honest man.” She stabbed him in his bare chest with a finger. “You are unique, Jedidiah McBride, no matter how you fight against it. No one besides you would ever question your worth.”

  He frowned. “But Nina—”

  “Was a fatuous girl.”

  “My mother’s family?”

  “They have never met you. Your grandfather is clearly as stubborn as yourself.” Her lips twisted. “Stubborn and foolish—it is a disastrous combination.”

  He clasped her upper arms. “Don’t you ever say that I am like him in any way. I know it was his rejection that killed my mother. She loved him, and he could not forgive her for loving my father.”

  Her voice was strong with her convictions. “You cannot escape the fact that a portion of the man’s blood flows in your veins. It has shaped you as much as early poverty, which is what has made you so strong and independent. Everything that has come before is a part of you, Jedidiah. You are stubborn and outspoken, but also good, kind, brave, intelligent and well mannered, and nothing less. It is you who cannot accept all the parts of yourself, so you believe that others will not. You do not want to be like him? Then follow your own path. Choose to set your arrogance and prejudice aside.”

  He leaned over so that her face was mere inches from his, his gaze seeming to reach into her soul as he searched for the truth in her. “And so, Victoria, tell me, you who care so very much what society thinks of you and of the reputation of your ancient lineage. Even if it is true and you have no difficulty with the humbleness of my beginnings, do you believe that your society would accept all the things about me? Would they invite me into their drawing rooms if they knew that I had played in the gutter?”

  She refused to flinch from his scrutiny. “The answer to that is obvious. Some would care a great deal. My only rebuttal would be to say this—they would certainly not approve of everything about myself, either.” She indicated her present state of undress with a sweep of her hand. “What matters is that I do not care where you came from. I accept you for who you are, without reservation.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, then stepped back, letting her go. “You are wrong, Victoria, and incredibly naive. You would not feel the same when the passion you feel for me has cooled.”

  Victoria stared up at him, seeing him retreat into the shell that he had erected around himself, with a regret so painful it made her throat ache. He would not allow her to reach him. Turning away, she began to gather up her discarded garments. “It is you who are wrong, Jedidiah. You are too attached to the beliefs that have kept you safe against the world to let them go. And I pity you for that.”

  It was only a moment later that she heard the door open and close softly behind her. She swung around quickly, but it was too late.

  Jedidiah was gone. She swayed, reaching out for the carved bedpost, then sank to her knees beside it.

  God help her, he was gone.

  Jed stood beside the window, his gaze trained on the night outside, seeing nothing in the darkness. His sight was turned inward, on the misery in his heart.

  For a moment, when she tried to convince him that they could have something, Jed had felt himself wavering. What heaven she had offered by making him believe that they could be together, that he could have the right to hold her in his arms. Even when he set aside his pride and reticence to reveal the whole truth of his past, she’d not turned away from him. But Jed had forced the impossible hopes away.

  Vi
ctoria was not thinking clearly. He knew that what he had told her was true. Once her passion cooled, she would come to see that she had made a dreadful mistake in having a relationship with him.

  That was something Jed could not face. He wanted Victoria for more than an affair, wanted…

  With the force and violence of a storm at sea, the truth came crashing down around him.

  Love.

  He loved her, loved her with all his heart and soul, wanted to be the father of those children she had spoken of. Jed did not know how it had happened, or when passion had changed to this all-encompassing emotion that made every other he’d experienced in his life pale by comparison.

  And that made his rejection of her arguments all the more necessary. Jed was not willing to settle for passion alone. He needed all of her, or nothing.

  Victoria had not said anything that made him believe she felt the same. It was true that she was open in her desire for him, that she had said they could be together. But she had not spoken of love or marriage.

  Why would she? he asked himself ironically. She was going to marry Sinclair. She’d told him so herself.

  His face twisted bitterly. In spite of all her talk about accepting him as he was, she did not want him as a husband, to walk beside her and share her life. That, unfortunately, was what he wanted most.

  Jed swung away from the window, flinging himself down on the bed. He would get her out of his mind, and go on with his life as he had planned.

  In the morning, he would see Nina. She would not put him off again. He had to talk to her about Andrew, to make her understand that he had a right to be a father to the boy. It would be hard for them all, but there was no other way. Hadn’t it been just as hard for him, finding out that he had a son and not been a part of his life?

  He rested his arm across his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep. He would need his rest. Everything would change for him as of tomorrow.

  Victoria would be gone.