Time After Time (75 page)

“How do you women stand those things?” Jonathon murmured in her ear.

“We do so to appear attractive to you men,” she replied firmly.

“If you dressed to please us, madam, you would do away with clothes entirely,” he grinned at her.

“And would not the Governor’s Ball have been an interesting sight. All of you dandies turned out in your finery and we ladies strutting through the minuet in our nakedness.”

“Mmmm. An interesting picture to ponder. But another time when I do not have something eternally more interesting to attend,” he bent down toward her. Emily held him back.

“Jonathon I must go to my room.”

“Do you not like mine?” he asked.

“I mean alone.” She struggled to sit up but was caught in her half-shed clothing. Finally she succeeded. “Jonathon, I think we are being rash and not thinking about what may result from this encounter.”

“You mean a child? I have thought about that. I was quite disappointed to discover you had not conceived when you told me so, so delicately.”

“Your question was not too delicate either as I recall,” Emily said trying to arrange her corset. Jonathon tugged it away and nibbled at the peak of one breast. “Jonathon, we are discussing something!”

“Oh yes. Well, I suggest we keep trying until we get it right.”

“Jonathon! You have the child to consider, too. I can bear being your mistress, but an innocent child — ”

“Mistress!” he shouted. “What the devil are you talking about?”

“Shhh. Well, look at us, Jonathon. Here we are ready to make love again. That is what they call a woman a man takes to his bed.”

“You would willingly become my mistress?” he asked in disbelief. “You would live under this roof with me, sharing my love as my mistress?”

“I know it seems wrong, Jonathon, but my love for you is not. I have never felt this deeply about anyone before. I love you more than life itself. But when I think of a child suffering because of my love for you — ”

“You do not think I would make a good father?”

“You would make a wonderful father, Jonathon, but a child needs — ”

“Emily,” he stopped her again. “There is another word for a woman that a man takes to his bed. She is called a wife.”

At first it did not register, then Emily realized what he had said. She stared at him, her mouth agape.

“Well, I guess I must be proper about it.” He knelt before her. “Miss Wentworth, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Emily leaped forward and wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head in her breasts.

“Mmmm,” he smiled. “Does this mean yes?” He lifted her onto the bed and they celebrated their betrothal.

“Jonathon,” Emily said sleepily, her head resting on his chest. “I must go to my room now.”

“No, love. Stay.” He held her tighter.

Exhausted from the last few hectic days and soothed by their lovemaking, they drifted off to sleep entwined in each other’s arms, Emily’s leg draped over Jonathon’s.

And that is how Dulcie found them in the morning.

“Lord a’ mercy!” she cried out on entering the room.

Opening one eye, Jonathon peered at her.

“Quiet, Dulcie, you will wake Emily.”

The maid just shook her head, backing out of the room. When she was gone, Emily opened her eyes.

“Oh, no,” she moaned. “How do I gracefully get back to my room?”

“First, I suggest you get dressed, although I much prefer you like this.” His hands teased her beneath the blankets.

“Jonathon!” she laughed trying to stop him.

“Then, fully dressed, you open the door and hold your head high,” he laughed. “We shall announce our engagement at breakfast.”

Emily need not have worried, for she met no one as she made her way down the hall. Quickly washing and dressing, she hastened down to breakfast. Everyone was there but Jonathon, who appeared presently carrying a tray of champagne-filled glasses. He set the tray on the table and distributed the glasses. Andrew moaned when he saw the beverage and turned pale.

“Is this some sort of punishment?” he asked.

“No, a celebration!” Jonathon exclaimed and stood behind Emily’s chair.

Raising his glass, he said, “To Emily, my ward, soon to be my wife.”

Amid oohs, aahs and congratulations, the others raised their glasses and drank the celebratory champagne. Except Andrew, who sipped his.

Jonathon bent and kissed Emily tenderly and the others came over to embrace them. Andrew had tears in his eyes.

“This is the happiest moment I have had in a long time,” he grinned. Then he set his glass down and looked at it ruefully.

Jonathon clapped him on the back and laughed. Just then Dulcie entered and, seeing her, Jonathon offered her his glass.

“Will you drink to our engagement, Dulcie?” He laughed.

“I should say so!” she looked at him scandalized, then drank down the champagne and gave Emily a broad smile. “God’s blessings on you,” she said and left the room singing.

• • •

Their wedding banns were posted at the church, and the date was set for the week after Christmas. Jonathon left for another voyage north and was gone two weeks. Emily busied herself with preparations for the wedding, and again she and Joanna sat down with a long invitation list. This time many of the names were familiar, and she thought fondly of the friends she had made in Virginia. When they came to Deidre Manning’s name they stopped cold and looked at each other.

“She could make things unpleasant,” Joanna said.

“We must invite her. She has been a friend of your family’s for years.”

“What if she creates a disruption?”

“Do not worry. I can manage Deidre,” Emily answered firmly.

“I think you are out of your depth, Emily. But you are also right. We must invite her.”

• • •

Jonathon returned one evening shortly before Christmas. Emily ran to the front door and flung it open when she heard his horse. He bounded up the steps and she was in his arms. Lifting her off the ground, he twirled her around. They laughed and then smothered their laughter with a long-awaited kiss. A cough from Andrew brought them apart, and they joined the others for supper.

“Jonathon, I hear discontent is building in the northern colonies,” David said.

“That is so, David. The First Continental Congress has adjourned. They are demanding the right of assembly, petition, and trial by peers. They have rejected Parliament’s right to levy internal taxes and will accept only regulation of external commerce.”

“This bodes ill,” David mused.

“Thirteen colonies scrapping like puppies in a tussle. But their mutual mistrust — even hatred — of the British is binding them into a common cause,” Jonathon answered.

Emily, disturbed as she listened, tried to understand the turmoil that gripped this land. When they moved into the parlor to relax and chat, conversation turned to the upcoming wedding. Emily became animated as she and Joanna related the plans. Jonathon sat beside Emily and watched in delight as her eyes lit with excitement as she spoke.

Soon they prepared to retire, and Jonathon held Emily’s hand to keep her beside him. When the others had left he leaned back, stretched out his legs, and pulled her close.

“I have missed you so, Em,” he said softly.

“I have missed you, too,” she sighed.

He ran his fingers lightly along her throat. Emily looked up at him, her eyes glowing with love, and slowly his head lowered and their lips met, softly at first, then fervently as their passion mounted. Emily pulled away and sat up.

“Jonathon, I have to ask a favor,” she said.

“Anything, my love,” he leaned forward and nuzzled into her neck.

“You are making it very difficult,” she murmured, her eyes closed, her heart racing wildly.

“Mmmm.”

“Jonathon, my favor is this. I would ask you not to come to my room again before the wedding.”

His nuzzling stopped and slowly he rose up to look at her. “This does not mean you will come to mine, does it?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Nor does it mean that you want me to take you here in the parlor?” he asked in mock seriousness, working the last of the fasteners on the back of her dress. So intent was Emily on stating her case that she had not noticed, and he was quite skillful. He gently held the dress for a moment.

“Of course not!”

“Then I have no alternative but to leave you alone,” he replied and released the back of her dress. The bodice gaped suddenly revealing much of her shapely breasts — golden in the firelight.

“Oh!” she gasped and grabbed at the dress. “You devil!” she laughed. With an attempt at modesty, she pressed the garment to her bosom, only causing it to push up and swell more. Jonathon moaned in dismay and averted his eyes.

“Woman, you should not deny me your charms and then display them so shamelessly.”

Emily was attempting to refasten her gown, and she threw him a scornful look.

“Your talents are quite refined, Captain.”

He smiled wickedly. “And yours are quite apparent.” Then he held her against him once more. “Now tell me the reason for this sudden attack of propriety.”

Emily nestled in his arms and played with a button on his vest. “Well, it is difficult to put into words, Jonathon. Actually, I thought you would be quite upset when I proposed this,” she looked at him curiously.

“I must confess, I have had similar thoughts, love. We have guests arriving tomorrow for the holidays. I am afraid we are in for a period of enforced separation,” he gently kissed her hand. “I would never want anyone to think ill of you, Emily, and others just might not understand.” He brushed her hair back and kissed her temple and nuzzling her ear whispered, “But there is tonight.”

Emily sighed and took his hand.

• • •

Jonathon sat on the bed and again undid Emily’s dress as she held up her thick, tawny hair. Kissing her back as he worked the fastenings, he mumbled, “I do not know why you bothered to do these up again.” She slipped the gown off of her shoulders and faced him, continuing to undress.

Jonathon watched admiringly, and when she stood before him naked, he pulled her close, cradling her between his legs. His tongue traced warm wet circles around her taut nipple and then he nibbled it gently. Emily trembled and her hands caressed the smooth skin of his back and shoulders. He lay back on the bed bringing her down on top of him, and their mouths locked in a demanding kiss that spoke of their long separation. Their lovemaking was urgent, and they clung together in the reeling, intoxicating climax.

As they lay entwined in the peaceful afterglow, they watched the shadows from the fire flicker in dancing rhythm on the ceiling. The flames crackled and spit in the silence that enfolded them. Emily’s head rested in that perfect hollow of Jonathon’s shoulder and his arm encircled her. Her leg was thrown across his thigh and her fingers rubbed gently across his chest.

“Will you stay tonight?” she asked quietly.

“No, love. Morning will find me in my bed.” He kissed the top of her head, burying his nose in the sweet smell of her hair. “Soon I will never have to leave your bed… our bed.”

• • •

James and Martha Cosgrove arrived the next day while Jonathon and Emily were hanging sprigs of holly and mistletoe. The manor was festively decorated with greens and candles, and soon an enormous fir would be cut and hauled in along with the yule log to complete the Christmas atmosphere. David’s sister, Carolyn Hanover, her husband, Thomas, and two children would arrive soon and the house would resound with the gaiety and liveliness children bring to the holidays.

Joanna’s pregnancy was becoming obvious and her morning sickness had abated. She glowed with happiness at the first movements of her child. Emily insisted she not overdo in holiday preparations and limited Joanna’s involvement to a supervisory position only. Their merry laughter rang throughout the house.

The Cosgroves and the Hanovers were delighted at the news of Jonathon and Emily’s engagement. Martha plucked at Jonathon’s sleeve and remarked, “It took you long enough to discover the prize that was beneath your nose all along.”

They toasted the beaming couple and settled before the fire in the parlor. Joanna played the pianoforte as they sang Christmas carols and drank wassail punch. Standing beside the pianoforte, Jonathon slipped his hand into Emily’s and smiled down at her. His deep baritone blended perfectly with her clear, sweet soprano voice. Emily felt that familiar fire as their eyes locked, and she wished that he held her in his arms. He gave her hand an understanding squeeze.

• • •

Christmas Eve was overcast and the wind whipped around the brick manor. The smell of crisp wood fires blended with delightful aromas of Christmas dinner wafting temptingly from the kitchen house. But anyone who ventured near the outbuilding — and everyone did — was duly chased out by Dora.

“I can’t get nothin’ done with all these folks in an’ out, sniffin’, tastin’ and pokin’,” she exclaimed chasing a chuckling Andrew into the garden.

The tall pine tree in the parlor was decorated with candles and strung with berries, fruits, and homemade ornaments. The yule log waited beside the hearth for its ceremonial placement in the fireplace, a signal at Brentwood Manor for the exchange of gifts.

Richard, seven, and Jenny, four, David’s nephew and niece, could hardly contain their excitement, and Andrew teased them and played games outdoors to keep them occupied. They adored him and begged for stories and treats from “Uncle Andrew.”

On Christmas morning, everyone piled into carriages and headed for church services. Emily felt tears stinging her eyes as she sang the final hymn and realized how fully God had blessed her life. Leaving the church on Jonathon’s arm, she caught sight of Deidre climbing into her carriage. The woman looked over at Emily and hatred filled her eyes as her nostrils flared. She spoke to her driver and the carriage rolled away. Emily wondered if Joanna had been right — was she unable to handle Deidre?

The Yule log was spitting and crackling as everyone gathered around. Confusion reigned as people called out names, accepted gifts, expressed their thanks, and marveled over the perfect choice, the perfect color. Richard and Jenny squealed with delight while their sticky fingers clutched their new treasures.