Time After Time (79 page)

Joanna’s words continued to echo in Emily’s ears long into the night as she lay awake once more listening for Jonathon’s return. Finally, exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep and did not hear hoofbeats as they pounded up the moon-speckled drive.

• • •

The next morning, not knowing what else to do, Emily arose and prepared for the trip. She was checking her appearance in the mirror before going down to breakfast when a knock sounded on the door. Two of Dulcie’s sons came in to carry down her luggage.

Emily was surprised to see Jonathon awaiting her at the breakfast table. He looked drawn and tired, and circles darkened beneath his eyes. Once again Joanna’s words came to her.

“Are you ready, Emily?” he asked.

“Yes.”

She waited for him to say more, prayed that he would say more, but he returned to his breakfast. Emily’s heart pulsed furiously. She knew she should say something, anything, but the words that welled up, caught in her throat. She turned to the sideboard and poured coffee while she felt his eyes on her every move. When she turned to sit down she saw him avert his eyes and look back at his own plate. They sat in strained silence, each waiting for the other to speak. Finally, David and Joanna entered and conversation about the plantation ensued. When breakfast was over, they walked to the front steps. Jonathon gave David some last minute instructions as Joanna embraced Emily.

“Take care, Emily. We will miss you, but we hope that soon you will be able to return to us. Remember what I said.”

Emily took Will from her and kissed the baby’s head. “I shall remember, Joanna. I shall try.” She hugged the baby and handed him back to his mother. The women hugged and cried together until David finally came over and turned Emily toward him.

“Good-bye, Emily,” he said tenderly. He hugged her gently.

They looked at each other, all of them knowing that there was so much more to say, but not knowing how to say it without causing more pain. David helped Emily into the carriage and Jonathon climbed in across from her. They waved and called good-bye as the carriage trundled down the drive, then they settled back into the silence.

Emily glanced at Jonathon, and then gazed out at the passing countryside. Jonathon started to speak, then stubbornly folded his arms and settled back against the seat, his mind filled with instructions and plans he had been making over the last two days as he readied to sail again. He had gone to Randy’s the night he stormed out of Emily’s room; he had gotten little sleep or even rest since.

The flight of Lord Dunmore to the British warship
Fowey
at Yorktown had brought the patriots and loyalists of Virginia to open conflict. Jonathon had wrestled with the thought of bringing Emily to Williamsburg, fearing for her safety. But it would be no better at Brentwood Manor, for mistrust and hatred were spreading rapidly, and at least he would be nearby if she were in Williamsburg. Jonathon did not expect to see his beloved Brentwood Manor until this conflict was resolved. If things became dangerous for Emily in Williamsburg, he could bring her aboard the
Destiny
and, somehow, return her safely to England.

His thoughts became a jumble of the serious conversations, heated arguments, and intense planning that had been his life for the past few days. Slowly his eyelids became heavier and heavier, and sleep finally overtook him.

Noting his deep, even breathing, Emily glanced across at Jonathon. His head lay forward on his chest and swayed with the motion of the coach. Emily took her silk shawl and folded it into a small pillow. Propping it against the sidewall of the coach by the top of the seat, she gently nudged a groggy Jonathon until his head rested comfortably against it. He stretched his legs out across the coach and fell into a deep sleep.

Nearing Williamsburg, Emily became anxious. Granted, their last visit to the Cosgroves’ had been most pleasant, but the circumstances had been quite different. Jonathon said they were loyalists, so perhaps they would welcome her sympathetic company. She certainly would welcome theirs.

“Jonathon,” she called softly. “Jonathon.”

He was still sleeping soundly, so she carefully rose and crossed to his seat. Swaying with the movement of the carriage, she looked down at his face. How she longed to bend and kiss him awake and be wrapped in his strong arms. She slowly reached out her hand and brushed a lock of hair from his brow. Instantly he jerked up, grabbed his pistol and pointed it at her. She had fallen back into her seat and stared at him with wide, terrified eyes.

“Will you kill me, too?” she whispered, trying to still her trembling.

Fully awake, finally, Jonathon slowly put away his pistol.

“I am sorry, Emily. I was dreaming.”

“Has it been that bad?” she asked.

Jonathon gazed out the window for a moment.

“People should do whatever possible to avoid war,” he said quietly.

They rode in silence through the countryside surrounding Williamsburg.

Chapter 9

The Cosgroves were as warm and welcoming as the first time Jonathon and Emily had stayed as houseguests. Martha fussed over Emily and kept glancing at her trim figure in disappointment. She did not say anything, but Emily was disconcerted by it and realized that if things continued as they were between her and Jonathon, she would have this shapely figure for a long time.

They had a glass of wine before supper and then sat down to a delicious meal of broiled sturgeon, potato balls, and macaroons with cream. Emily began to relax as she realized that conversation would not turn to politics. Even Jonathon seemed more at ease than he had been since his return. He was attentive to Emily, and she responded in kind, remembering his warning as the coach pulled up to the house. “Now remember, Emily, these people know nothing of our — marital difficulties. They are lifelong friends, and I do not want to bring them into this or make them suffer as a result of it. They share your loyalist sympathies, so it is the most comfortable place I can find for you at the moment. Please respect my wishes and act the loving wife.”

Emily was thankful to Jonathon for understanding her need for sympathetic company in these difficult times. She looked across the table at him and smiled. He attempted to hide a look of surprise and smiled back. After dining they played cards, but Martha noticed Jonathon discreetly stifling his yawns and suggested retiring early.

As before, Martha showed them to their room, only this time there was only one room for the two of them. Emily began to protest, but Jonathon silenced her with a look. They bade Martha good night, went into their room, and closed the door.

“Jonathon,” Emily hissed between clenched teeth, “you did not tell me about this!”

Jonathon began to undress nonchalantly. “What did you expect? I told you they were expecting a newly married couple. Of course they would provide only one room.”

“You could have said you snore too loudly — ”

“Or that you do,” he replied lazily.

“Or something,” she snapped.

“So that performance at supper was only for the sake of our hosts?” he asked.

“That is what you asked for, a sweet and loving wife. And that is what I shall be when they are present.” She looked at the four-poster bed, its crisp sheets folded back invitingly. “Oh, this will never work out.”

“Oh, I see endless possibilities,” Jonathon murmured.

“You are impossible,” Emily said turning to look at him. He stood before her naked, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh!” she stamped her foot and turned around.

“Are you coming to bed?” Jonathon asked climbing between the sheets.

Emily began to unfasten her gown as she blew all the candles out except a single one by the bed. Standing in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, she slipped out of her clothes and into her nightgown.

“Do not try to hide that beautiful figure from me, Em, for I have every curve, every detail etched in my mind.”

“Stop it, Jonathon,” she scolded.

Carefully climbing into bed, she lay on her side as close to the edge as she could. Jonathon chuckled in the darkness.

Emily lay awake a long time and listened to his even breathing. When she was sure he was asleep, she finally began to relax and allow her eyes to close and sleep to overtake her.

• • •

In the early morning hours when the birds were just beginning to stir and the sun glowed just beneath the eastern horizon, Emily came awake slowly. She felt warm, safe and secure, as she snuggled into the warmth of Jonathon. Slowly rising to consciousness, she realized she lay against him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. Not wanting to wake him lest he discover her nearness, she gently began to move away. His arm tightened around her.

“Do not leave, Em. It feels so good to have you here again.”

“How long have I been like this?” she asked.

“Most of the night.”

They lay in silence for a while watching the eastern sky lighten to a rosy pink. Jonathon’s hand slowly caressed Emily’s arm. Finally he spoke.

“It was never my intent to humiliate you, Em. I still do not understand how I did, but it matters not if I understand, only that you were hurt. I am sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Emily rose up on one elbow and looked down at him. “I am sorry, too, for acting like a child. Please forgive me?”

He looked up at her lovely face, her hair cascading like a curtain to his chest. He saw her tears brimming, and when she blinked, one escaped to run quietly down her cheek. He reached up and brushed it away.

“How we can hurt each other when we love each other so much,” he whispered, as if to himself.

Emily nodded.

He drew her down against him and their lips met softly. Jonathon wrapped his arms around her, and Emily’s arms encircled his neck as he eased her back on the pillows. His mouth moved over hers slowly and his hand reached down to untie her gown. As it opened he slipped it off her shoulders and caressed her silken back. He raised his head and looked into her shining blue eyes. She smiled at him and, sitting up, slipped off her gown. Climbing back under the covers, Emily snuggled against him and pressed her hips against his. He kissed her again, his tongue probing deeply the sweetness of her mouth. She responded eagerly and pulled him closer. His hand slipped to her full, rounded breasts, cupping them, teasing the nipples, and softly tracing their curves. Then his mouth followed down her throat, across her shoulders, down to her velvety soft skin. Emily shivered in delight as his tongue aroused and warmed her with its fire. Her hands rubbed gently through the soft hair on his chest and slowly ran down to tantalize and excite him. Jonathon moved back up to kiss her and she felt the firm manliness of him. He moaned with delight, and their hands explored and touched bringing them both to the edge.

Jonathon rose above her and gently entered her. Emily trembled as she felt him throb within her. They moved together in a rhythm of longing and delight. Finally, Jonathon began to thrust within her and Emily cried out in ecstasy. She pulled him closer, and her breath sounded in his ear. She clung to him as he nuzzled into her and closed her eyes against the waves of unbearable pleasure. At last they lay spent in each other’s arms. The sun spilled across them in a soft, rosy glow.

Jonathon rolled onto his back and cradled Emily in his arm. She ran a finger across his lips, over his chin, down his throat and rested it on his chest.

“I love you, Jonathon,” she whispered. “I am sorry that I hurt you.”

“These are terrible times, Em. Many people are hurting those they love.” He smoothed her hair. “I love you so, Em.” He held her closer. They lay in the afterglow of passion that only true forgiveness and healing brings. They lay together for a long time.

• • •

Their stay at the Cosgroves’ was enjoyable, and Martha was pleased to note their eagerness to retire in the evenings. James thought she was exaggerating, but she said with a twinkle in her eye, “A woman knows these things.” As he watched them exchange glances one evening, he had to admit that she was right.

They played cards well into the night, and as they were about to retire, they heard a knock at the front door. They were all surprised, for the hour was late. Their servant ushered in Mr. Gates.

“Mr. Gates, how wonderful to see you,” Emily exclaimed as he bent over her hand.

“Good evening, Mrs. Brentwood.”

Jonathon introduced him to the Cosgroves and seemed to note Gates’s agitation. James poured wine for everyone, and they sat down.

“I am afraid I have bad news, Captain,” Mr. Gates began. “The King has declared the colonies to be in a state of rebellion. He has ordered suppression of the resistance.”

The room was hushed as each one attempted to digest this news. Emily clutched Jonathon’s hand. No one spoke for a full minute, the silence broken only by the ominous ticking of the parlor clock. Mr. Gates cleared his throat.

“Shall we sail as scheduled, sir?”

“I will make inquiries tomorrow, Gates. I shall be out to the ship by afternoon.”

Mr. Gates rose. “Aye, sir. I am sorry to bring such terrible news to you.” He bowed and left.

• • •

Emily had been quiet after Mr. Gates left, and she was quiet still as she brushed her hair before the mirror. The pink gown she wore fell in delicate folds around her, enhancing her curves and gracefully floating around her as she moved. Jonathon stood behind her and bent to place a kiss on the back of her neck.

“Jonathon,” she said. The tone of her voice made him stop. He looked up at her reflection in the mirror and saw the confusion and anger in her eyes.

“Yes, love?”

“Will you continue to sail for the colonies?”

“Yes, love.”

She turned around in the chair and looked up at him. “Please do not,” she pleaded.

“I must, Em.”

“Then you will fight against the King, against England?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered softly.

“Jonathon, please — ”

“Emily, do you not understand what we have endured here? Parliament does not even consider us Britons anymore.”