* * *
He never had been able to understand women.
The fact was was that he thought he had her all figured out, this prim and proper miss with a true sense of purpose no matter what she put her mind to. He had not truly thought before entering her room, but he knew now that he had offended her sensibilities. Things were different across the ocean, he heard. You were not supposed to enter a lady’s bedchamber without knocking, even if she was your spouse.
Something inside of him had changed character, for lack of a better word, when he saw her, asleep in that chair. He had noticed that ever since that night in the barn, she had not been able to sleep like before, always pacing late into the night in her room, her soft little footsteps thunderously loud in the still of the night. And so he had been glad to see her finally at rest, poor thing.
A yellow book had fallen from her hands and was laying by her feet on the ground. He picked it up, and the title, Sex Tips, caught his eye. Kenneth felt stunned right into the ground. What was Clara doing with a book about such intimate acts? Who would even write a book on such a topic? Furthermore, the course of his reasoning led him to ask the one question he was most curious about—what had prompted his reserved, resilient little bride to pick up such a book in the first place?
Without even thinking much about it, he had begun turning the pages. And the laugh that had eventually roused Clara from her sleep had begun. This woman, Ruth Smythers, was a loony, a basket case. She featured the bride as an innocent young creature whose time to shine came on the wedding day—why he felt a pang of guilt, he could not say—and that afterwards, she should be wary of giving in to her “sensual and lusty husband.” Why was Clara reading such nonsense? And was that truly how she saw him now—as a man who would go back on his word to her and touch her without her permission?
He had barely begun to ponder this when the advice tips began to spill out, one after ridiculous one. “What could have been a proper marriage will become an orgy of sensual lust.”
“By their tenth anniversary many wives have managed to complete their child bearing and have achieved the ultimate goal of terminating all sexual contacts with the husband. By this time she can depend upon his love for the children and social pressures to hold the husband in the home. “ That one hurt a bit as he recalled Barbara, but the next,
“If he lifts her gown and attempts to kiss her anyplace else she should quickly pull the gown back in place, spring from the bed, and announce that nature calls her to the toilet,”
Caused him to break out in laughter that was so helpless that he finally woke her.
He would never forget the look on her face from that moment either. She had, at first, looked as innocent as a child, and then, when her gaze fell upon the book in his hands, it transformed into one where he felt as if he had physically laid harm to her body. She looked betrayed.
Kenneth had no idea where she had fled to, but assumed that she would come back for lunch. When the hour came and past, he felt a vague nagging in his head, asking questions without forming words. When two more hours went by, the nagging notions had formulated into complete thoughts, and he began to worry. A storm was brewing, and Clara knew almost none of their neighbors; the nearest ones were only accessible by horse, anyway. What was she going to do out there—what if she got lost in a field or ditch or—or—
He could not understand how he had not gone after her when she left. It had not been, after all, his desire to embarrass her. How could he have let hours go by without looking for her? Not daring to ask himself why the sense of panic was rising high in his throat, he pushed aside all the thoughts he had of not being able to come home to her snapping blue eyes anymore and thundered down the stairs outside into the barn to saddle a horse. Perhaps he would have a chance to find her before the full fury of the storm hit. And, he hardly dared to think this, what if he did not?
Something in him, without quite knowing why, said he would look for her until he found her either way. And that shocked him damn near senseless.
But not so much as the realization that there was someone in the barn besides himself and the horses. He tread softly, hardly daring to disturb the low murmur of a voice coming from Betsy’s stall. He crept silently, unseen, until he could just make out a woman’s voice whispering softly. He peeked into the crack between the door and its hinge on the stall door and he could just make out Clara’s small form, pressed against the warmth of the new colt. She was stroking its head gently with her tiny hand, and tears stained the top of her silk dress.
He sagged with relief at having found her, wanted to rush in and shake her for causing him to worry. Instinct told him, however, to bide his time, to hear her words. For she was whispering to the colt, its brand-new mane satin against her fingers.
“You don’t know Edward and Sara, Ponyboy, but they were my whole world back in England. I did not think it possible to love two people like I did them, but it was because I felt so needed back there. I knew what my role was, what my purpose in that household was. And now I am living with a man, a man who is foreign and strange and does not truly seem to need me at all.”
Kenneth felt his chest clench.
“I thought he liked me, I truly did, after you were born, because he talked to me about his Barbara. He does not seem like a man who shares much with others, but he found words for me, he tried to make me understand. And I understood, of course I did, for who does not know what it is like to be alone?”
He remembered her stories from the orphanage. It seemed to be quiet, but she had just been lost in thought for a moment.
“What do I know about being a wife, horsey?” she asked, worrying it between its ears. The colt let out a huge, contented snort. “All I have is that book by that woman, and all it says is to avoid even breathing on your husband. So what do I do, pony? Of course I run from him. I do not know any other way, and when he laughs at me, it makes me wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.”
“Don’t.”
He said it without thinking, and Clara sat up with a start, realizing for the first time that she was not alone. When he opened the stall door, her face changed. She had nowhere left to run, and so she would not let the knowledge that he had heard her make her ashamed. In a way, it might have been that she wanted him to hear.
“I’m not good at the words, Clara,” he said, the straw crackling beneath his feet as he approached her slowly. Her face looked shy and tender. “I don’t have the right words to tell you what I’m feeling, but I can tell you this. I didn’t know how much I needed you until you came. When I couldn’t find you today, I thought my heart would burst clean out my chest.” He paused, locking his fingers underneath her chin and tilting it up, watching her lashes cast faint shadows on her cheeks. “You don’t ever have to feel alone. Not while you’re with me.”
When he kissed her, they melted into each other. Everything that he had wanted to say, he said through his lips, through a fierce possessive kiss that bound her to him more strongly than any marriage license. And then he led her back into the house where he made her his wife in more than just name.
And those were all the words that either of them needed.
THE END
Summer of Sweetness
“Do you have all the toys you wanted to bring?” Laura asked her charges. She was busy putting toys in their bins within the playroom, items she was pretty sure they wouldn’t want to bring, which was a fairly large list.
“NO! I WANT THAT!” A little boy screamed. He ran at her and grabbed a toy car from her hand.
“Jim!” She put her hands on her hips and tightened her lips. He’d gotten worse, lately, much worse about outbursts. A certain amount of defiance was to be expected from a five year-old, but Jim’s were increasing. She’d try to remind the DeVilliers about it again soon. “Jim, I’m about to put you on time-out.”
“NoooooOOOOOO!” He stomped away, turning his back on her. Always ready to throw fuel on the fire, his twin brother Ti
m pointed and laughed. Before Jim could respond, Laura quickly stepped in.
“I can put you on time out too, Tim. Do you want that?”
“Sorry, Miss Laura.”
“Sorry, Miss Laura.” Jim added, a little more quietly than his brother.
She nodded and began putting toys away again. “Very well. Now put the toys you want to bring in the box as we talked about, and then we should be very nearly ready to go. No more acting up!”
“No, Miss Laura.” They said together. She always found it a little creepy when the pair of blonde boys spoke together, giving her the inevitable image of the ghost sisters from the movie “The Shining.” She shivered slightly.
The playroom door opened and one of her employers poked her head in. Sue DeVilliers had a broad, though friendly face. She was always friendly, even when gently reprimanding Laura or her husband, Wes. These were, unfortunately, complaints that happened all too often. “Have you got the boys ready, Laura?”
“Another ten minutes, Sue.” Despite the formality with which the DeVilliers conducted almost all of their interactions, they always insisted on being called by their first names, almost as one would a friend. Laura knew very well they weren’t friends. They were friendly, but quick to remind her she was a nanny and nothing more.
Sue looked around as though checking out a strange planet. She was rarely home and almost never in this particular room. “Very well. Have them down in the foyer then, if you would.”
“Certainly, Sue.”
She gave her the usual friendly smile before shutting the door on the trio again.
Laura dropped into a rocking chair in the corner of the brightly-lit, white room as the boys slowly picked out their last favorite possessions to bring for the trip. She looked out the window at the first falling snowflakes. She had to admit she wouldn’t miss Minneapolis for the first few weeks of winter. She was never a big fan of winter; being born in Minnesota hadn’t made her a natural winter fanatic. She hoped that after a year or two working for the DeVilliers she might be able to move somewhere south, like- well, Florida, their destination by the end of the day. She could get used to the idea of waking up each and every day to sun and water.
Best of all, the weather outlook was pretty good for today and tomorrow. Yes, she’d spend a lot of her time at the resort watching the boys, of course. That was to be expected. But a free trip to Florida was still a free trip. The pay would help her pay her student loans, so she had no real reason to complain.
“No, THAT’S MINE!” Jim shouted with a sudden flare of fury and slapped his twin. Tim retaliated.
Well. Maybe some reason to complain, she thought, and got up to separate them again.
---
“Boys, this is the last time.” She reminded them both as they argued over who got the window seat. “You will each get an equal share of time in front of the window. I’m timing it. If you continue to act up, the first thing I’m doing when we get to Florida is-”
“No!” Jim objected, knowing what she was going to say. A gray-haired man with a neat mustache looked over his chair and gave Laura a disapproving glare. Clearly, he wasn’t enjoying first class as advertised, and she didn’t entirely blame him. Jim had been whining the entire first hour in the air.
“Well, then get it together. Tim,” She thought, considering a possibility. “Would you be willing to give Jim the window seat for a trade?”
“Like what?”
She pointed to Jim’s comic book. “Jim, you could let him read your comic. Besides, you can’t read and look out of the window, can you?”
She knew Jim was deeply possessive of his comics, and that it would be a big trade. Perhaps a compromise paper things over.
Laura saw the wheels turning in Jim’s small, cute head. The boys were often insufferable, but they were also adorable when on decent behavior. She tried not to blame them; their parents spoiled the boys terribly, ruining all the progress she made with them and, until she’d recently insisted they stop, sometimes countermanded her adult directives. They paid well, but she wasn’t going to work for anyone who’d do that.
“Well… okay.” He conceded. Tim was happy enough with the trade, Jim switched seats, and Laura breathed a little sigh of relief.
As the boys switched seats, she suddenly realized that in the rush to get the boys together, she’d managed to forget all of her toiletries. Her toothbrush, makeup, hairbrush, shampoo, even the sunscreen she’d picked out for its excellent SPF were all back in snowy Minneapolis. She groaned, realizing she’d have to waste some of her limited free time getting all of that back.
Wonderful, she thought. Hell of a trip so far. She looked over the boy’s heads and looked at the green and white of the land below. She wondered if they were out of the Midwest yet. She assumed it wouldn’t be long.
Oh well. Buying a bunch of necessities, watching the kids, flying in first class- it was all very comfortable, boring, commonplace stuff. She wished, as she often did, that her life didn’t revolve so much around another family’s plans and whims while she had watched her social life wither and die. It’s seemed a terrible fate, given she was in her early twenties. She wanted to date, party, travel.
Well- she was traveling anyway. Jim rested his blonde head on her arm and she gave him a little pet. Bratty, sure, but affectionate. She didn’t mind the nannying so much, but she did wish she wasn’t watching her own life pass her by.
---
“I’ve never even heard of this island.” Laura confessed when her employers asked her what she thought about San Marcos Island. They’d just completed a brief boat ride from West Palm Beach after a limo ride up from Miami International Airport. With the flight having taken up most of the day, they boat had landed at the docks during the twilight hours, as the lights were beginning to spring up all over the island.
“You’re in for a treat!” Sue proclaimed in her relentlessly cheery way. She led the way as Wes, her equally middle-aged and oppositionally dour husband, trailed several steps behind. He was struggling with his share of luggage which he was insisting on carrying through the town, despite the fact they had hired a pair of strong men to help them out.
“When the hell are they going to allow cars here?” Wes demanded. He had complained a few times already about the luggage. Laura suspected he just wanted to assert a degree of masculinity and, more importantly, to have something to complain about.
Sue clucked her tongue. “They’ve never had cars, never will, dear. I think it’s part of the charm.”
“A little too backwoodsy charm for what I’m paying for this shindig.” He groused as he sweat through his bright red Hawaiian shirt.
As far as Laura was concerned, there was nothing backwoods about San Marcos Island. The town they were walking through was intentionally small and vibrant, with strings of festive lights lining every shop window. Cuban, rap, and rock music boomed from nearby bars, making her wish she could drop in for a drink and to check out the local guys. But instead, she had two small, tired, irritable boys holding onto each hand. She sighed and they continued down the main street towards their resort.
“Here we are!” Sue announced as the group walked up to the gates of the luxury resort. The vast complex lay before them, facing the sea and surrounded by palm trees. Laura was grateful to see that a cart had pulled up to the gates to carry them the rest of the way.
Their porters loaded up the carts and Laura and the boys climbed into a second cart. The man driving had her back to her as she approached, so her first look at him was when she sat in the passenger seat. She turned her head and caught her breath.
The dark-haired, tall guy had a strong jaw, wide shoulders, and killer green eyes. He turned them on her then and asked in a low voice, “Long trip, ma’am?”
“Um, yes.” Um yes? Really? She kicked herself and tried to think of something smart to say. “But we made good time.
Great. Boring chit chat.
He started up the cart and they followed her employ
ers. “I’m Josh Philips and I’ll be your activities director for your stay. How long are you with us?”
“I’m Laura Martin. We’re here for three weeks.”
“Pretty name. Three weeks, hmm? Very nice. I hope you like keeping busy, because I’ve got some fun things planned for you and your boys.”
“Oh,” she quickly corrected him. “They’re not my boys. I mean, they are, I’m just their nanny. You know.”
“I see. Well, we have plenty of fun for the little guys in mind, trust me. Don’t worry, we’ll wear them out and there will be fun for off-work nannies as well, assuming you like snorkeling.” He winked and she melted.
They reached the front of the pink and white building. The decor was very focused on soft colors; baby blues, light greens, and lots of white. Josh hopped out to help unload the carts and the staff quickly moved their things to their rooms. As Wes and Sue checked in, Laura helped the boys find the bathroom as she waited outside. Josh crossed the pretty, wide lobby with its huge fountain in the center and stopped in front of her.
“They seem a little busy, so can I ask you- does the family already have plans for tomorrow?”
“I honestly don’t know. Other than breakfast and swimming in the pool, I don’t think they had anything definite. They haven’t told me, anyway.”
ROMANCE: His Reluctant Heart (Historical Western Victorian Romance) (Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Fantasy Short Stories) Page 17
