Her Wyoming Man (8 page)

“No.”

The word stopped her and she turned to face him.

“Stay,” he said.

“All right.” In the darkness, she peeled back the coverlet and sheet and climbed into his bed.

Nathan’s heart pounded so hard she had to have heard it. He partially disrobed, leaving his trousers on, and moved to the bed, where she lay.

This arrangement was not good for his plan. Or for his sanity or any plan for sleep.

She lifted the covers to urge him forward. He knelt first, then slowly lowered himself to the mattress.

Ella immediately reached for him, her smooth cool fingers skimming his chest. “I feel safe here with you.”

She wasn’t. And she had no idea what she was doing to him. “Rest now, Ella.”

She snuggled up against him, her head under his chin. “I can hear your heart beating. I like the sound.”

Her seductive musky cinnamon scent closed around him, and her satiny cool hair brushed his chest like a silken caress. Pressed against him, her breasts were full and soft. “Ella, this isn’t a wise idea,” he managed to groan.

“I like the way you make me feel, Nathan.”

She raised her head and kissed him, and he saw stars behind his eyelids. Nathan lifted to one elbow and took control of the kiss. If she showed the least hesitation or fear, he would retreat.

She wrapped her arm around his neck.

As soon as he parted his lips, she met the deep greedy kiss, her breath catching in her throat. He wanted to give to this woman, please her. He wanted to make her his.

Chapter Ten

E
lla fell into the kiss with all of her being, surprising herself…almost scaring herself. What was it about Nathan Lantry that made his kisses special, that made her want to discover more of this exciting and heart-stopping wonder?

The barriers that had guarded her emotions and her heart for as long as she could remember had tumbled and lay beyond repair. She didn’t even have the desire to reconstruct them because everything about this felt so right. What had started out as her attempt to bind him to her for security’s sake had quickly become a living, breathing passion meant to explore and enjoy.

“Ella,” he said against her lips, and the sound of her own name filled her with joy. Where the sweet response had come from, she had no idea. He trailed his fingers across her throat to her collarbone, and she’d never known a simple touch had the ability to elicit so much feeling. Her entire body wept with the pleasure, her breasts growing taut and sensitive. He spread his hand over one through the fabric of her nightdress, and she sighed with exquisite longing.

She gave herself over to the satisfaction of reaching for him, glad to meet the hair-roughened skin of his chest, where she threaded her fingers before moving to explore his side, his firm back. He was so strong and young and vital, touching him took her breath away. The strength of his body was a sharp contrast to the gentleness of his caresses as he drew a hand over her hip to her waist.

He reached for the tiny buttons down the front of her gown, and she helped him, giving him access to press kisses down her throat, her chest, and draw maddening circles around her nipple with his hot tongue.

Ella wasn’t prepared for the rush of expectation and wanting that spiraled from the center of her being outward.

Lightning flashed, momentarily illuminating the room. Thunder followed, a rumble that shook the windowpanes. Ella delved her fingers in Nathan’s hair. He raised the silken fabric of her gown and trailed his lips across her abdomen and lower…lower yet, where his hot damp caresses magically transformed her from the woman she’d once been to the woman she wanted to be.

She closed her eyes against the bursts of light from outdoors only to see more at the touch of his hands and lips and tongue. Without thought or hesitation, she gave herself over to the sensations he coaxed from deep within her. Her need for him, for his adoring touches was as basic as her need for air or food, equally demanding, equally intense.

When she thought she couldn’t bear the exquisite torture another second, he took her tumbling over the edge of familiarity to a place of freedom and perfect rightness and release. Harsh tremors ebbed to a gentle quaking and a sublime relaxation of her limbs. Wanting to give back to him, she reached to guide him upward and take him to her. Instead of lowering his weight onto her waiting body, he gathered the comforter and pulled it up to cover her. Stretching out alongside her, he urged her to turn away so his body cupped hers from behind. The bulk of the covers separated them.

“Nathan,” she said, confused.

“Shh,” he said against her ear. “Just rest now.”

“But, Nathan,” she tried again.

“That was far beyond the boundaries of a courtship,” he told her. “But you still need time to trust me.” Trust him?

“I won’t spoil what we might have by rushing you.” Though his voice was soft, his words were firm. He pushed the tangled hair from her neck and face so he could kiss her jaw.

Nothing in Ella’s experience had prepared her for a man like this. Tender. Giving. Concerned for her well-being and placing what he assumed was her virtue above his needs and desires.

She hadn’t cried since she was small, and she wasn’t going to lose control now. She swallowed the burning sensation in her throat and squeezed her eyes shut against the prickling threat, fighting for composure.

Lying in his bed, with his arms around her, his scent enveloped her, branded her. She was his wife. Nathan Lantry’s wife. He’d married her after meeting her only once, even though the impulsive decision went against everything she’d learned about him. She’d believed—because it was all she knew to believe—that she would immediately become an object for his pleasure. She would fulfill his physical needs and he would provide a home and security.

He had provided the home, and so far the security…but she was no closer to sating his physical needs. The man had a will of steel.

Ella woke to sunlight stretching across the bed and warming her where she lay snuggled in a heap of bedclothes. The luxurious sensation felt so good, she purred and stretched, finally fluttering her eyelids open.

She was alone.

She sat up and oriented herself, coming fully awake.

The previous night came back to her with an all-encompassing tingle of warmth. She let herself remember everything that had transpired between her and her husband. Every last breathtaking moment.

She smiled. A silly, self-indulgent smile.

Wondering about the disarray of her hair, she realized she would have to head for her own room to wash and change. What time was it and where were Nathan…and the children? She flung back the covers and stood. After two steps, she reached Nathan’s bureau and her gaze landed upon the framed photograph.

Sitting right on top of the bureau where she couldn’t have missed it, where Nathan saw it every time he got up and every time he went to bed, was a photograph of Nathan seated in front of a standing woman who wore a wedding dress and lace veil. Ella reached for the frame, but stopped inches away and drew back her hand. The portrait wasn’t hers to touch.

But she leaned closer and examined the delicate face of the fair-haired bride. She wasn’t what might be considered beautiful by some standards, but her lips were turned up in a sweet smile, and she had an unrivaled purity about her. A wholesomeness that made Ella’s chest ache. Her gown was obviously satin and well made. Her fair hair had been fashioned in a shiny soft upswept style beneath the beaded veil.
Deborah.

Innocent. That was all Ella could think. This woman had come to her husband pure and untouched. Nathan had honored her chastity just as he believed he honored Ella by sparing her his lovemaking.

The likeness of Nathan’s first wife positioned deliberately right here where he saw it each time he came to bed…each time he woke, disturbed her in a manner she didn’t want to examine too closely. He kept Deborah close because he loved her still. He mourned her. If Ella hadn’t flung herself at him, attempting to seduce him at every turn, even last night wouldn’t have happened.

What she’d celebrated only hours ago now seemed as sullied as everything else about her life. As sullied as everything about who she was.

Clutching her nightdress closed at her throat, she hurried from the room.

Half an hour later, she found activity in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I overslept,” she said to Mrs. Shippen, who was rubbing a bar of soap on a child-sized shirt. Charlotte stood at the sink drying dishes, and Grace and Robby were seated at the kitchen table, playing with wooden rings and a short peg on a stand. “Good morning,” she said to them. “What are you playing?”

Grace held up one of the rings, about three inches in diameter so Ella could see it.

“I’ve never seen that game before. How do you play?”

Grace demonstrated by tossing the ring at the peg, where it caught and looped around.

“It’s called Quoit,” Mrs. Shippen told her. “You’ve seen the outdoor version, haven’t you?”

“I never have,” Ella answered.

“Ewwa twy,” Robby said and held out a ring.

Touched that he included her in their play, Ella took it and tossed it, but missed the peg. “I guess it takes some practice.”

“It’s your privilege to sleep in as late as you like, Mrs. Lantry,” Mrs. Shippen told her in a low voice.

Charlotte nodded. “Have a seat. I saved a plate for you.”

“That’s kind of you, thank you, but I can get it myself.”

She found a hot pad and took the plate from the oven. Charlotte placed a fork on the table and poured her a cup of tea.

Ella ate her breakfast while the children played their game.

When she’d finished, she added sugar to her tea and sipped it. “Mrs. Shippen?” she asked. The woman turned her attention to Ella, and she continued. “Did you see the other Mrs. Lantry when she dressed for parties and went out of an evening?”

“I did, ma’am.”

“Can you tell me what appropriate dress would be for this Spring Gala event?”

“The Missus always wore one of her nice gowns with elegant jewelry and gloves. And she purchased a gift for the hostess.”

“What sort of gift?”

“Candy or stationery or a sachet. Something of the like.”

“I suppose I’d better shop today then. Will it be convenient for me to go out this morning?”

“I’m here to make things convenient for you, not the other way around. Let me know your plans and I’ll care for the children.”

Ella got up and placed her plate in the sink, where Charlotte immediately washed it. Ella stood beside her as she took a towel and dried the plate. “What else did Mrs. Lantry do?”

“She made shopping lists,” Mrs. Shippen replied. “She oversaw the cleaning, kept the household budget and planned an occasional party.”

“How does one know what to place on a shopping list?”

Mrs. Shippen exchanged a glance with Charlotte before opening a drawer and taking out a piece of paper. Ella read it over, absorbing the logic of the necessary items. She had no idea what it took to run a household. “I’ll make these purchases today.”

The woman nodded. “Very well.”

Ella gathered a shawl and her reticule, then paused. She walked back to the kitchen. “How do you pay?”

“Mr. Lantry has accounts at the shops. The merchants send him a bill.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient?”

Mrs. Shippen gave her a quizzical look as Ella turned to tell Grace and Robby she was leaving.

Simply walking down the front stairs and making her way along the edge of the brick street gave her a sense of elation. The freedom to come and go as she pleased would never grow old.

A few blocks later, she strolled along the main street, greeted by an occasional man or woman. A shopkeeper recognized her from church and waved a hello. She got a warm feeling in her chest and smiled to herself. No one turned his back or pretended not to know her. The women didn’t hold their skirts aside and whisper as she passed. Ella stood studying the storefronts, familiarizing herself with the places and goods available.

Deciding on a store, she entered. The bell over the door clanged. Women’s voices carried from the side of the room, but Ella went about her business and selected a box of stationery. She neared the counter and noted a woman standing back from the others, waiting to make her purchase. She held bath talc and a package of needles. Her lowered gaze didn’t raise to Ella.

“Hello,” the proprietress said to Ella. “Aren’t you the new Mrs. Lantry?”

“Yes.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma’am. I’m Edwina Harrison. My husband runs this store.”

“How do you do?”

Another woman stepped back to open their circle to Ella. “Are you looking forward to the Spring Gala, dear?”

Ella chatted a moment, and finally Edwina reached for the box of stationery, “Is this all you’d like today?”

Ella glanced at the woman who’d been there first, but who still stood silently waiting. “She was ahead of me.” She took a step back and gestured to the woman. “Go ahead.”

She was older than Ella, thin, with lines at the corners of her eyes. She was dressed as respectably as anyone else in the store, but her hand was void of a wedding band. A startled look crossed her features, but still she kept her face lowered, her gaze on something on a lower shelf. She shook her head. “No, you go ahead.”

“Here, I’ll wrap your purchase,” Edwina said to Ella. “Shall I put it on Mr. Lantry’s account?”

Puzzled, Ella took another step back. “No, I insist this lady go first. She was waiting when I got here.”

The woman to Ella’s left said in a low tone. “Bess Duncan isn’t a
lady,
Mrs. Lantry.”

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Ella turned her attention from the woman who’d spoken to the one called Bess. The humiliated woman flattened her lips, and at last she looked up. The too-familiar pain and humiliation Ella saw in the depths of her faded gray eyes struck her numb. Ella had never laid eyes on Bess before, but she knew her. She knew this woman’s fear and hopelessness intimately. She recognized isolation and condemnation as longtime companions. Ella stared into her own mirror image and saw despair reflected.

With supreme dignity, Bess set the two items on the nearest counter, turned on her heel and walked from the store.

The bell tolled with a grim finality.

“Of all the nerve,” one of the women said. “Marching in here as though she’s fit to shop with the rest of us.”

Ella set the stationery on the counter, and then impulsively picked up the talcum powder and needles Bess had left behind. “I need these, too.”

Edwina looked at her curiously, but she tallied the items in a ledger, wrapped them in brown paper and handed Ella the package.

Ella didn’t hear anything else the women said to each other or to her. She said thank you and hightailed it out the door and onto the street.

Standing in the midmorning sun, she peered one way and then the other, catching sight of the thin woman walking quickly away, already a block from the store.

Ella held her skirt hem above her ankles and ran along the boardwalk. At the sound of feet pounding on the wood, the woman she followed stopped and backed up against the front of the nearest building as though she anticipated an attack. As Ella neared, Bess fastened a wary look on her.

Slowing a few feet away, Ella came to a stop. Now that she was here, she didn’t know what to say. Ending up like this woman was her worst fear. She glanced aside nervously, then back. Finally, she tore the wrapper from the items to remove her stationery and then rolled the paper back around the rest. She extended the package. “These are yours.”