Grace (The Marriage Market Book 2) (12 page)

"What exactly did Remington do to you?"

"He's been bothering me for months, whispering about things he wanted to do to me," Grace said with her head down. "I tried to stay away from him as best I could, but mother was insistent. She wanted me to marry him. His family is very wealthy and mother wanted to attach herself to them, hoping to gain in social prominence.

"We argued, but she invited them to dinner, hoping something would come of it. After dinner, she made me take Horace out and show him the garden and while we were out there he… he hurt me."

              Jonah tipped her chin up and looked into her tear filled eyes. Seeing her lip quiver, he pulled her against his chest and held her close.

"What did he do, Gracie?" he whispered.

"He was mean and rough. He grabbed my bosom and squeezed, hard, until I cried out while he pushed his privates against my bottom. I couldn't get away and he told me if I didn't agree to marry him he would come while my parents were abroad and take what he wanted," she sniffled.

"When we went inside, he told them all we were to be married and I was afraid to say anything. Mother was thrilled and so was Mrs. Remington. Horace just gloated, sending me cruel glances when no one else was looking. After they left, I waited until everyone was asleep and ran to Effie's house. That's when I decided to go with her to rescue Amelia."

"What do you mean, rescue Amelia?"

              "Amelia Westcott is our dearest friend. She came out here in answer to a newspaper ad placed by Mr. Hugh Jordon for a bride. We tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't be moved."

"Hugh Jordon advertised in a newspaper for a bride?" he asked incredulously with a laugh.

"Yes, and he turned out to be a scoundrel of the worst kind."

"Really," he drawled, smiling widely.

              "It's not funny, Jonah. He married our sweet Amelia and after the wedding she found out he was engaged to many other women as well."

"Are you sure it's Hugh Jordon you're talking about?"

"Yes, his name is Hugh and he has a brother Samuel. That's the man who wrote the letter to Effie threatening to spank her if she showed up with a gun," she sighed, her voice full of frustration.

"Why would Sam threaten Miss Lane?"

              "I guess because she sort of threatened him first. She wrote a letter to Hugh, you see, but Sam got it. In it, Effie said if he didn't take good care of Amelia she would come out and make him sorry."

"So you both came thousands of miles because he threatened Effie?"

"No, are you listening to me at all? Hugh duped Amelia and she sent us a letter when she found out about it. She said she was going to divorce him and return home, but she didn't have enough funds."

"Has she no family?"

"Oh, yes, her father is a wonderful man, but Amelia wouldn't ask him for the money. She's pretty independent and proud, you see."

"No, I don't see. What's all this got to do with you and Miss Lane?"

"Why we came to rescue her, of course," she said firmly. "After all, she's our best friend. We couldn't leave her here at his mercy. Now do you see?"

              "Not exactly, but it's becoming clearer. Have you and your friends always been such risk takers?" he asked frowning.

              "Oh no, up until we graduated from Mrs. Pettigrew's School for Young Ladies this year, we were mostly just three good friends, going to cotillions and balls and the like."

"What happened to change all that? Was Mrs. Pettigrew a poor teacher?"

"I wouldn't say that, she was just so strict about things, always harping at us to be proper and all. When we finally got away from her, I guess we went a bit cattywampus. The freedom was glorious. She controlled our every move for nearly six years, after all," she explained with a touch of ire in her voice.

"So when you were finally out from under her control, you all decided to embrace the riskiest behavior you could think of, is that it?" he demanded with a dark scowl.

              "Not at all," Grace replied stiffly. "Our parents expected us to marry and there was no one who interested us. Then we got the newspapers and well, this is just how it turned out," she replied, lowering her gaze. "Can we help it if they don't have the right kind of men in Massachusetts?"

"And what's the right kind of man, Gracie?" he asked seriously.

"I think you might be," she said softly. "Maybe. I thought Hugh Jordon was, but I guess not."

"We'll just have to wait and see."

              "As soon as we get to Seattle, Effie and I are going to try and find Amelia," she insisted. You should know that, right off."

              "I may be able to help you with that," he offered. "I have a pretty good idea where to look."

              "Oh, Jonah, you do?" she cried in delight throwing her arms around him. "That would be wonderful."

              Jonah held her tight, savoring the feel of her body against his. Her soft hair tickled his nose and had the sweetest fragrance rising from it. It was all he could do not to sweep her into his arms and carry her to his cabin, their agreement be damned, but he forced himself to loosen his hold.

"Come, Grace, I'll take you back to your cabin," he said, tipping her chin up and brushing his lips across hers.

"Now?" she asked, clutching his shoulders. "But it's still early."

"It's later than you think, little girl," he informed her taking her arms from his neck.

"No, I don't want to. It's so beautiful out here," she pouted.

              "Fine," Jonah growled, picking her up off the deck and sitting on a bench with her firmly on his lap.

* * * * *

              Grace never knew what happened. One moment she was resting comfortably against him and the next it seemed she was on fire. His lips stole her breath until her head dropped weakly on his chest. Strong hands that were somehow gentle, stroked her body, cupping her breasts until her nipples throbbed, hard and painfully. Moaning, she wiggled in discomfort until he tore open her bodice and bared her for his mouth. It was the most delicious and yet torturous experience she'd ever been through. Her entire body quivered while he licked and nibbled at her stiff peaks.

              He moved from one to the other, blowing on her damp flesh as her back bowed offering more. Finally, he pulled one nipple into his mouth, and she nearly screamed in pleasure as glorious spasms shook her. Gripping his head, she pulled him closer, never noticing his hand moving up her leg beneath her skirts until he held her in the palm of his hand.

              His fingers inside her drawers were somehow wet and gliding over her flesh in a way that made her legs fall open wantonly. She didn't care. For some strange reason, she wasn't even embarrassed, just burning for more of his touch.

              "Gracie, Gracie, I can't take you here, on the deck of a ship," he ground out as he kissed his way along her collarbone and up the side of her neck. "You should be in a soft bed, surrounded by satin and lace," he whispered in her ear before biting her lobe.

"I don't care, Jonah, I don't care," she cried. "Please don't stop, I couldn't bare it."

              Her voice sounded far away to her own ears, her body no longer her own, but his, forever his. She was shocked when he stood and dropped her feet to the deck. He yanked her bodice closed and steadied her while he bent to retrieve her wrap. Pulling it tightly around her, he half carried her to the stairs, smoothing down her skirts as he went.

              "The next time I tell you it's time we go in, you better not argue," he growled. "I almost took you on deck where any seaman could have stumbled upon us. What was I thinking?"

              He hustled her to the door of her cabin as tears streamed down her cheeks, knocked once and opened the door, nearly shoving her inside.

              Later, she realized is must have been her stricken expression that stopped him from turning away because he pulled her tightly to him and held her for a moment.

              "Forgive me, Gracie," he whispered before his lips met hers. Then he was gone, closing the door after him.

"Are you all right?" Effie asked, coming to her quickly and noting her disheveled clothing.

"Yes," she whispered her eyes wide and wet.

"Did you, did he?"

"No," Grace said with a sob, "but I wanted to. I really wanted to."

Effie was alone in the dining room the next morning when Jonah arrived.

"Where's Grace?"

"She has a headache. I'll take her a tray when I return to the cabin," Effie replied, dabbing at her lips with her napkin.

"Is she ill often?"

"Never."

"I see."

"Do you? What happened last night, Mr. Blackthorn?" she asked pointedly.

              Jonah ignored the question; sure Grace had already exposed his appalling behavior to her friend.

"I'll take her a tray now," he replied as he walked to the steward.

"Suit yourself," she murmured to his back.

              Impatiently he waited until he was handed a tray with a pot of tea, toasted bread and a small pot of marmalade. Taking it, he hurried from the room and straight to Grace's cabin. Giving only one knock he opened the door and entered.

              At first he thought she'd flown the coop as he looked around the empty room, but then he saw a slight movement caused by a lump under the duvet. Setting the tray down, he approached the bed.

"Gracie, are you unwell?" he asked gently.

"I'm fine, go away," she mumbled from under the covers.

"Not until I'm convinced you are all right. Sit up, I've brought you tea."

"I don't want it."

              "All right, don't drink it, but I'm not leaving this room until you show your face," he said firmly.

              "Fine," she snapped, pushing the covers off the top half of her body and sitting up. "You've seen me, now please go."

              Jonah studied her. The red hair he so loved was in wild disarray, sticking up at odd angles and looking somewhat like a dandelion puff. Her white lawn nightdress was buttoned clear to her neck and her eyes were swollen from crying. Shaking his head, he sat down on the side of the bed and took her hand, holding it tightly as she glared at him and tried to tug it away.

"Gracie, you're pouting. It's adorable," he continued grinning.

"I am not," she insisted, looking away.

              "But you are, sweetheart. Come and sit on my lap and tell me why you're so upset," he encouraged, holding out his arm to her.

"I did that last night and looked what happened," she snapped.

Jonah couldn't fail to hear the accusation in her voice, and while he originally intended to apologize, he now changed his mind.

"What happened?"

"You took advantage of me," she hissed, finally yanking her hand away.

"You're my wife."

              "Yes, in name only. I made that perfectly clear at the onset," she continued, crossing her arms over her breasts.

              "If I remember correctly, and I'm pretty sure I do, it was you who didn't want to come in when I wanted to return you to your cabin. It was also you who threw herself into my arms and refused to let go," he drawled.

"Oh, you are a cad. A gentleman would never point that out," she cried.

"I never said I was a gentleman, sweetheart, only a man."

"Well, it's still your fault."

"How so?"

"You didn't have to be so… so…"

"Hungry for you?"

              "Don't put it like that," she said with a shiver. "You sound like you're the big bad wolf in a child's fable."

              "Gracie, I want you, in every possible way and I believe I've made that clear. What you don't like is the fact you want me too. It offends your ladylike sensibilities. From my point of view, it's wonderful; from yours it's somehow vulgar. Guess what? I don't care."

"What do you mean, you don't care?"

"Exactly that," he replied taking her arm and pulling her out from under the covers. Placing her on his lap he held her still. "I could easily have taken you last night and you would have let me, without a protest, I might add. In fact, if I'm not mistaken you were very disappointed when I managed to regain my control."

"Bull hockey."

              Jonah laughed and kissed the top of her head. What a firecracker she was turning out to be.

"I would have fought tooth and nail for my honor," she insisted trying to wiggle away.

"That might have been hard to do, with all those breathy little sighs escaping from your lips." Cupping her breast through her thin gown, he toyed with her nipple. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart," he said gently.

              "Well, I am ashamed," she whispered putting her head down. "I was almost begging you not to stop. I had no idea a man's touch could do that to me, make me feel that way. I fear you've married a harlot. What must you think of me?" she gasped, her hands going to her hot cheeks.

Jonah abandoned her pouting nipple and tipped her face up to his.

"I think you're perfect," he told her, his eyes staring into hers. "You're sweet and kind, a devoted friend and the prettiest little bundle of curves I've ever seen. I love your freckles and this red mop you call hair," he teased. "I love your sparkling blue eyes, and the way your lips form a tempting little bow. You're a woman any man would be proud to call his own, and underneath that ladylike exterior, you're a passionate and fiery temptress. I wouldn't change one thing about you."

"Really?"

"Well, maybe one thing," he sighed, looking away.

"What?" she demanded.

              "You are just a tiny bit stubborn, but I think we can curb that with time and patience," he said with a smile.

"Mrs. Pettigrew always says, it's good to have goals, Jonah," she cooed.

              Laughing, he fell back on the bed and pulled her with him, settling her on top of his body. His hands cupped her bottom while she braced herself with a hand on each side of his head.

              "Do you doubt my ability to cure you of your periodic bouts of temper and sassy ways?" he asked, raising his eyebrow in challenge.

"Just a little," she said smiling brightly.

              The crack of his large hand on her thinly covered bottom had her gasping as she wiggled frantically to get away. Holding her in position was ridiculously easy and oh so pleasurable he wanted to smack her again, just for the thrill of it, but he forced himself to play fair.

"Still doubt it?" His grin clearly showed her how much he wished she'd say yes.

"Oh no, Jonah," she replied solemnly. "I have complete faith in you."

              "A pity," he sighed, frowning. "I'm sure I would enjoy it if you needed more convincing."

"I'm convinced, I swear," she said earnestly.

Jonah released her sweet cheeks and swept her hair away from her face.

"I love you, Gracie Blackthorn," he whispered softly. "I don't know how it happened, but it's the truth. I know I promised to let you go if you were unhappy, but I don't think I could let you go, not now, not in a million years."

"Shh," Grace replied, placing her fingers over his lips. "I love you too, Jonah and God willing, I'm not going anywhere." Moving her fingers, she placed her lips on his and kissed him tentatively until he rolled her beneath him and took charge. It was several minutes before he pulled himself together and moved off her.

"Oh Jonah, not again," she panted.

"I'm afraid so," he moaned. "Once again, this is not the time or the place."

              "Then get out of here before I show you just how little patience I have and how stubborn I can be," she snapped, kneeling on the bed and starting to unbutton her gown.

              Jonah was mesmerized and watched until both her breasts were visible before bolting from the room and slamming the door behind him. He could hear her laughter as he moved swiftly down the hall.

* * * * *

              Getting off the bed, Grace poured a cup of tepid tea and curled up in a big chair. She was still smiling when Effie slipped into the cabin.

"Is everything all right between you and Mr. Blackthorn?"

"Hmm, wonderful," Grace replied, closing her eyes.

"Did you do it?" Effie asked with a blush.

              "Effie Lane, you certainly are curious about what goes on between married couples," she teased, "and no, we did not do the deed."

"No more curious than you were, let's see, just yesterday," she drawled sarcastically.

Grace giggled.

"I know; I'm sorry. I don't know much yet, but I'll tell you what I can," Grace offered.

              "Okay," Effie said, hopping up on the bed and crossing her legs. "What's happened so far and what did it feel like?"

"Well, obviously you've seen him kiss me, and that's only gotten better. His lips are so firm and warm, lovely really. He's nibbled on my neck and that makes my heart race wildly. Why I can hardly catch my breath."

"Go on."

"Gosh, Effie, this is embarrassing," Grace said, blushing to the roots of her hair.

"Oh don't be so modest. Haven't we always told each other everything? Why should this be any different?"

"It just is that's all. I feel like I'm betraying him, sharing our private moments and all."

"Well then forget it," Effie said, rising to straighten the bed. "I mean, why should you betray the confidence of a man you've known a couple of weeks for a lifelong friend?"

              "How about I just give you the specifics? I won't mention any names and Jonah will just be a man in general. Will that do?"

"I expect it will," Effie replied. "No names, just the general information."

              "Okay, here goes," Grace began, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "When a man touches you, it's more than you ever expected. A feeling comes over you, sort of like a shiver that runs through your whole body. His hands are much rougher than your own, and stronger, but they feel so good because they're gentle too. It's hard to explain, but before you know it, you want more of it. I fear it could become an addiction.

              "If he touches your breasts, they begin to tingle and soon you want to arch your back so they fill those lovely hands. On bare skin, it's even better. Your nipples stand up and get hard like they're at attention or something, and when he pulls on them and plays with them, you feel it deep in your belly. It's almost as though there were a cord attached inside you.

"Once his mouth touches you there, you're paralyzed with fear and pleasure."

"How can it be both, fear and pleasure?" Effie asked softly.

"I don't know, but it is. Pleasure so strong it's almost painful, yet you're terribly afraid he'll stop. Fear of what's going to happen next, because you know if it gets any better you'll burst into a million pieces and fly away.

              "His hand strokes up your leg, but you barely notice you're so focused on his lips suckling you. Then his fingers work between your legs, touching and gliding over you and you get wet down there, Effie."

"No."

              "Oh yes, and it's slippery and marvelous. I truly don't know how you could speak at such a point other than to whimper in delight. You feel absolutely helpless to resist. His hands, lips and fingers are controlling you like a puppet."

              "I don't think I would like that," Effie insisted, grabbing the pillows and fluffing them mercilessly.

              "You'd think that wouldn't you," Grace sighed, "but somehow you do. It gets to the point where you just wish you could capture every second of it and save it forever, so you'll never forget what it felt like; never as long as you live.

              "And that's all I can tell you, Effie," Grace said, opening her eyes. "We haven't actually gotten much farther than that, but I'm looking forward to it, although if it gets better, I may just expire from the pleasure."

              "What happened to separate bedrooms?" Effie asked smiling, despite how disconcerted the conversation had made her.

              "Oh no, I want to be in his arms every night. I feel so safe there I'm sure I'll sleep like a baby and won't be bothered by bad dreams of Horace. He said he loves me, Effie, loves everything about me."

              "Of course he does," Effie agreed, looking at Grace's glowing face. "You're infinitely loveable, Grace, you just couldn't see it.

              "I think I'll go up on deck for a while and take in the sea air. We should be in Seattle sometime tomorrow, so I may not get the chance again. Do you want me to bring you back some hot tea from the galley?"

              "No, I'm going to write in my diary. I haven't for a few days and I'm woefully behind. I'll wait till it's time for the noon meal."

              Picking up her wrap, Effie covered her shoulders and left the cabin. On deck, she spent the next two hours wondering what she would do when she had to return home leaving Grace and possibly Amelia behind.

* * * * *

              Amelia walked dutifully to her husband, her head down, her hands clasped behind her. Reaching his side as he sat on the huge leather sofa she made to go over his lap, but instead he pulled her down beside him, wrapping his arm around her. Her sigh of relief was audible.