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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

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BOOK: A Season Beyond a Kiss
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In spite of the tormenting vacillation she was encountering, Raelynn sought with casual comments to safely anchor a ladylike amenability, in that way hoping without undue hardship to escape the moment of temptation. “Your men are moving right along with Cora’s new cabin, Jeffrey. Why, at the rate they’re progressing, the structure will be finished by the end of next week. I’m sure you must be aware of how anxious Cora and her family are to get into a home of their own again.”

She broke off suddenly, realizing to her abashment that a dignified serenity was not what she was imparting. Indeed, she seemed to be chattering on like a mindless ninny, hardly conscious of what she was saying. How in the world could she even come close to a cool-headed logic when those probing green orbs all but devoured her? Every time his gaze flicked over the cloyingly damp cloth veiling her bosom, she was brought up short by a memory of those brief moments of passion wherein his tongue had moved with tantalizing slowness over her soft nipples. It was quite exhilarating to realize that even now that particular recollection had the strength to arouse a hungry yearning in the core of her womanly being.

Jeff stepped even closer yet, his gaze dwelling upon the delicate pink crests teasingly displayed by the diaphanous fabric. Having anticipated the pain that had promised to lay him low each and every time he yielded to a manly propensity to indulge in a visual appreciation of his wife’s beauty and winsome form, he had abstained from that kind of self-abuse by limiting the time he spent with her. Even when he had been forced by the demands of protocol to conduct himself in social good manner and escort his young wife to functions which had required their attendance as a couple at weddings, christenings and similar affairs, he had sought to remain distantly detached and had only glanced at her when he had been compelled to and then, only briefly, a contrivance which had allowed him by dint of will to maintain his gentlemanly forbearance. Although she had looked no less than enchanting every time they had gone out, she had hardly been clothed then in a filmy thing that left nothing to his imagination. Whether due to her softly swelling bosom or the intriguing shadow vaguely hidden beneath her nightgown, his attention was firmly ensnared. Such enticements were too much for any man to ignore, much less one who had found himself hard-pressed by a lengthy abstinence and ever-goading passions. He could only hope that this time her generous display amounted to an invitation and that she was actually coaxing him to do more than just look.

“Aye,” Jeff finally agreed, “it won’t take any time at all for my men to finish the cabin.”

Raelynn was herself besieged by a growing tension, the like and depth of which in her maidenly innocence she had never experienced before. After the miserable night she had just spent, the merest thought of withholding herself left her devoid of any hope of finding a sensible remedy for her situation. She had definitely grown tired of that transparent guise of an offended wife denying her husband for no other purpose than to obtain irrefutable proof that he was nobly pure. When she was harried by fierce longings of her own, she certainly didn’t feel all that saintly herself. Jeffrey
was
her husband, she mentally argued against a chiding conscience. He had not only viewed everything her nightgown now displayed, but he had also handled her with all the familiarity a newly espoused husband is wont to lend his bride. The fact that she was standing there, submitting herself to his probing gaze, all but screamed for him to take her.

Still, he was very much a stranger to her, her pragmatic self argued. Nigh to two weeks ago they had met for the very first time after she had broken away from her uncle. Yet when Jeffrey had proposed that very selfsame hour to save her from Cooper Frye’s devious plans, she had felt no qualms about accepting. It had only been afterwards that she had questioned her wisdom in speaking the vows with him so quickly. As much as she had struggled to thrust them from her mind, Nell’s accusations had continued to rake their cloven claws across her memory, undermining her aspirations to be joined to this man in body as well as in name. It was the idyllic standard to which most married couples conformed, and it was only natural for her as a young wife to yearn for marital union. Indeed, there were times when those unsatisfied longings left her feeling much like a broken ship washed up on a beach.

Cognizant of her own weakening resolve even in the face of harrowing images of Jeff seducing Nell, Raelynn felt as if she teetered precariously on the sharp precipice between commitment and rejection. More than anyone she recognized the fact that she had to find a way to end her shilly-shallying and settle her mind on a prudent decision, for she was beginning to suspect that her awakened passions were now pulling sway over all the rational arguments she could put forth.

Idle chitchat seemed essential to ease the struggle roiling within her and, at the very least, to end the lengthy silence between them. Yet she blushed in discomfiture, knowing that it was merely a sham to hide what was really going on in her woman’s brain and body. Truly, her husband might have been shocked if he’d have been able to discern the scope of her imagination, for at times it seemed most vivid. “Cora’s new cabin appears twice as large as the old one, Jeffrey. She’ll enjoy having so much room.”

Jeff tilted his head wonderingly as he tried to find a reason for the vivid blush now infusing his wife’s cheeks. The fact that she was garbed in a gossamer creation and had made no effort to fly out of his reach gave him cause to think that he could woo her into his bed, if not this very moment then perhaps very, very soon. Yet she seemed as nervous as a young chick looking into the greedy beak of a hunting hawk. He suffered no doubt that she had been far less tense when she had voiced her decision not to go to bed with him.

“Considering my housekeeper’s fondness for children, ‘tis highly unlikely that Clara will be an only child,” Jeff surmised, leaning near to sample his wife’s fragrance. It was a very delicate, enticing essence, reminiscent of a fresh bouquet of spring flowers. “It seems reasonable to assume that in a few years Cora and her husband will be needing quarters as large as the one that’s presently being built for them.”

Raelynn’s jitters had come back full force as she felt Jeffrey hovering near, and just as before, her tongue began racing off in nervous haste as she sought to hide her unease. “Your rescue of Clara was certainly admirable, Jeffrey, but it’s my most fervent hope that I shall never have to witness such a daring feat again. When I saw you running into that burning cabin with only a split wooden barrel shielding you from the flames, I was certain you’d be cindered right along with the house and the child.” She smiled up at him nervously as he straightened. He didn’t meet her gaze, but seemed oddly intrigued by the drawstring that kept her gown snugly closed at her throat. “Truly, with everything that happened during the first days of our marriage, perhaps you can understand how grateful I am that in these past weeks I’ve been able to enjoy the serenity of your plantation. My greatest fear is that it’s only a lull before a storm. I know in time Gustav will try to avenge himself for the shoulder you shattered in spite of the fact that Olney Hyde was really the one at fault.”

“I wish I could remember shooting the scoundrel,” Jeff murmured and ran his fingers reflectively over the scar that had been left in his scalp after Olney had shot him, an incident which had immediately caused his own pistol to discharge a leaden ball into Gustav Fridrich’s shoulder. “Such a memory might help ease my irritation over the circumstances that have allowed Fridrich the liberty to continue his chicanery and, in spite of the warrant Rhys issued for Olney’s arrest, the fact that that young whelp is still wandering freely about somewhere.”

“You can be assured that Kingston hasn’t forgotten any of the particulars of that incident,” Raelynn replied with a faint laugh and then scolded herself for not being more dignified and serene. Her husband was completely self-possessed, which in comparison to her uneasy fits and starts left her feeling as awkward as a bumbling chit. Even so, she rushed on, unwilling to give him time to dwell on her discomfiture. “After suffering through the trauma of thinking that Olney had killed you, Kingston was nearly rolled back upon his heels when you revived. The story seems quite humorous when he tells it, but I recall the horrible dismay I suffered far too vividly to even think of laughing over that dreadful incident.”

The only remaining impression Jeff had of those moments immediately following his return to consciousness was his butler’s slack-jawed astonishment. That singular memory would likely abide with him for the rest of his life. “I seem to remember Kingston saying something about an angel. I suppose he thought it was some kind of miracle when I regained consciousness.”

“It
was
a miracle! If that shot had been any lower, Jeffrey Birmingham, you’d have had a large hole bored through your head, and I’d be standing here no less than a widow.”

The corners of Jeff’s mouth twitched with humor as he toyed with the delicate ribbon dangling from the bow at her throat. “I wonder how many virgins in the last hundred years have been left bereaved by the untimely demise of their bridegrooms. I doubt there have been many.”

A soft, fluttering sigh escaped Raelynn as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. From there, soft kisses trekked a leisurely descent along the creamy column of her throat. Cautiously she laid a trembling hand against his steely chest and closed her eyes, nearly swept away by the languid caress of his mouth. Beneath her palm, his heart nearly matched the swiftly thumping rhythm of her own, attesting to his growing involvement in his game of seduction. “I can’t imagine that our situation is all that unique, Jeffrey.”

“Surely other men would think so, my sweet,” he murmured, having wondered many times in the last fortnight if he was the only husband in creation whose wife was still a virgin.

Jeff marveled at her willingness to accept his warming attentions, yet he was still wary of being rebuffed. Lifting his head, he searched her face for what emotions might be revealed in that sublime visage and was again impressed by her unparalleled beauty. The texture of her creamy fair skin was as lush and smooth as satin. A rosy blush infused her cheeks, brightening her aqua eyes until they seemed to glow with a brilliance of their own behind the thick, sooty lashes. Her nose was pert and slender; her soft mouth winsomely curved and much in need of kissing. In all of that wondrously fair countenance, Jeff could detect no slightest hint of diffidence. Though her eyelashes fluttered downward as she shyly avoided his gaze, she remained well within his grasp, encouraging him to test her resistance as well as that of the silken cord.

A small gasp escaped Raelynn as she felt the nightgown sliding away from her throat and the placket widening between her breasts. “Jeffrey, please . . .” Her whisper was hardly more than a soft exhalation of a breath. Once more she found her wits scattered, her attempts to appear composed hopelessly frustrated. Certainly what spilled forth in a hasty rush from her lips had no real relevance to what she had craved in her lonely bed. Though outwardly her statement conveyed something else entirely, it had much to do with her own incertitude over the circumstances in which she had been cast. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

Jeff managed a stiff smile as he straightened to his full height. He had expected her to put him off, and though it was not at all to his liking, he was hardly one to fly into a raging fit when he didn’t get his way. Still, if he could ascertain anything from her sudden nervousness, he’d be inclined to think that she wasn’t nearly as cold and aloof as her words had led him to believe.

A more careful testing of her rejection seemed in order, yet just as needful was a careful soothing of her qualms if he had any hopes of breaking through the thin barrier she had erected between them. It seemed prudent to continue his manly assaults on her senses, but in a more subtle fashion. In that endeavor, he turned her attention to another matter which in recent days he had begun to consider. “How would you like to accompany me to Charleston today, madam, and order a new gown?”

Astounded by his invitation, Raelynn stared up at him as if he had just told her the moon had fallen from the sky. Only when their combined presence had been requested at social affairs had he relented of his ongoing aloofness and escorted her to the port city. During those outings, he had been very much a gentleman, yet she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that he had also been anxious to put those events behind him, if for no other reason than to retreat from her presence. But then, considering what she had demanded of him, she could hardly have blamed him.

As for ordering a new gown, she couldn’t imagine the cost of the finery he had already purchased for her. Without a doubt, her new attire was of a quality that only the rich could afford. Still, after being forced to endure both his stilted reticence and lengthy absences, she wondered how he could be so magnanimous as to suggest that she was deserving of any gifts. “More clothes, Jeffrey, after everything you’ve already given me?”

His naked shoulders lifted in an indolent shrug. “It’s only right that we should give a ball in honor of our marriage to allow our neighbors and my acquaintances from Charleston to meet you, madam. Considering the length of time it has taken me to find a suitable mate, the event should be a grand occasion to attest to my delight in finding a bride so fair. Such an affair warrants a gown as dazzling as yourself, and only my friend, Farrell Ives, can design one worthy of that distinction. He’ll make you the envy of nearly every lady in the area. . . .”

The blue-green orbs glowed at the pleasurable idea that she would at last be able to make a wifely claim on Jeffrey Birmingham in front of his collection of friends and acquaintances. She was especially eager to demonstrate her ownership to all those well-garbed ladies she had seen either eying him covetously from afar or, at closer range, smiling up at him invitingly. During those functions wherein he had done his husbandly duty by escorting her upon his arm, she had maintained a poised reserve, having sensed in him a polite, but stilted detachment that had discouraged wifely overtures, but he could hardly distance himself from her at a ball celebrating their marriage. “I needn’t wear a sumptuous gown to elicit jealousy from all the maidens who’ve apparently tried to harness you into marriage in the past, Jeffrey. I believe I became a full-fledged recipient of their envy the day we were wed.”

BOOK: A Season Beyond a Kiss
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