Concealing Grace (The Grace Series Book 1) (18 page)

Groaning, he cut himself off. His grin when it came out was crooked. “I must stop talking like this or we’ll never get out of this bed.”

Jessica giggled. “Are you glad we’re married, Jon?”

“Oh yes. More than I can say.” He kissed her lightly on the mouth.

“Me, too,” Jessica said. “But I am a little confused about one thing.”

“What’s that, Sweetheart?”

“ ‘Fitting perfectly’
? I am a little confused, so I think it would be a good idea for you to show me what you mean.”

“Oh, you think so?” He sat up, shifting so he leaned against the headboard. With that sultry gleam in his eye—the one she was coming to know quite well—he said, “Come closer.”

The intensity of Jon’s passion dazzled her. Making love was so much more enthralling than Jessica had ever dreamed it would be. Almost as incredible were the other ways their intimacy was growing. She felt as if she could tell him anything, as though, even if they wanted to keep secrets from each other, prudence wouldn’t allow it. They were becoming that connected. The words from the Bible that Reverend Nash read at their wedding were coming true: “
And the twain shall be one flesh: so then they are no more twain, but one flesh.”

But, alas, they couldn’t stay in Nashville neglecting life’s responsibilities forever. The manor awaited them, and though he didn’t say as much, Jessica knew Jon was worried about his horses. So, that afternoon, they came home.

Herlin was there to take care of the horses and buggy. Ditter was there to greet them and carry in their luggage. Ruth had prepared dinner for them, and although Martha wasn’t present, her contribution to their homecoming was evident in the tidiness of the house, the freshly cut flowers in the foyer and the clean linens on Jessica’s bed.

The only unfortunate turn of events was the missive waiting for Jon in his study. He ate dinner quickly, and had to depart immediately thereafter. It was business that had been put off for too many days already. Even though it was late, he had no choice but to go meet with this particular client.

After dinner, Jessica went to the parlor to practice. It was there that, again, she gained an audience. Before Ruth and Martha came to round up the children and send them off to bed, Jessica read to them from the Grimm Brothers’
Children’s and Household Tales
.

Later, while in bed, she was still thinking of them—of having sweet little Chelsea sitting on her lap—when she heard footfalls coming up the stairs. She recognized them as Jon’s, and it sounded like Ditter was following him, too.

It became apparent within the next few minutes that Ditter was hauling water for the elaborate, claw-footed bathtub in Jon’s dressing room. But this wasn’t something Jessica had much chance to contemplate. Unlike their wedding night, Jon wasn’t in his room long. He didn’t bother to knock before coming to her either. The connecting door swung open and closed quietly behind him. He was carrying a single candle, which shed enough light for Jessica to see he was wearing his most alluring hunter green dressing gown.

“Are you still awake, Sweetheart?” he murmured as he drew near.

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” she admitted. It was true.

He chuckled and set the candle on the night table. Seated on the side of the bed, he took her hands in his. His eyes, glistening in the candle light, were so mesmerizing.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” he said. “And now I’m sweaty and dirty. I need a bath.”

“Did your meeting go well?”

“Well enough. There’s nothing to worry about. Tell me, what did you do while I was gone? Other than lay here, looking so lovely, waiting for me?”

Jessica giggled at his teasing. “I practiced the piano, and I read for a while. You have some wonderful children’s books in your collection. I was reading fairy tales, and they got me to thinking…”

Grinning, and clearly distracted, he drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “What were you thinking, Sweetheart?”

“About the servants’ children.”

“What about them?” He started playing with her fingers, stroking them and sliding his own between them.

“There is no school for them to go to. So maybe, if you think it’s a good idea, I could start a school for them here. I could teach them myself.”

Jon stopped fiddling, but he didn’t let go of her hands. His brows were drawn as he looked at her. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because they need to be educated and I want to help. Besides, with Martha and Ruth taking care of the house and the cooking, I won’t have anything else to do.”

“You have a piano to play. You can read. There are many books in the library, not just children’s books. You can go riding anytime you like. You can spend time with me,” Jon said.

Jessica smiled at his last comment. “Yes, and I will do all those things, but they’re all for leisure, for fun. And you have your work with your horses to take your time. I won’t have any work of my own. I’m not used to that.”

“But I want you to have a life of leisure.” He tenderly squeezed her hands. “I want you to do whatever you want, enjoy yourself.”

“There is only so much piano playing a person can do in one day,” Jessica said. “Please tell me you think a school is a good idea. Please.”

He hesitated. “It’s very kind of you to want to do it.”

“Perhaps I can go to town and purchase some slates and some books for them?”

He smiled at her oddly and he said, “Whatever you want, Sweetheart. Whatever you want.” Then he leaned over and kissed her lightly. “I just want you to be happy.”

“So you do think it’s a good idea?”

“It’s a fine idea.”

Jessica couldn’t hide her enthusiasm. “I could hold classes in the kitchen. There’s a big table where all the children can sit to write on their slates. It’s the perfect place. Will you tell the servants? Will you tell them so they will send their children?”

“If you would like me to, I will tell them.”

“Thank you, Jon.” Her lips quirked and she said, “I wasn’t just thinking about the children, you know. There’s something else I’d like to try.”

“Uh oh,” Jon said, feigning dread.

Playing along, she teased, “Well, if that’s how you feel about it. Never mind. Since I’m a little sweaty, too, I think I shall put the water Ditter brought to good use.”

Jon’s eyes flashed. “Now
that
is a great idea. We can take a bath together. It will give me an excuse to touch every inch of you.”

Jessica giggled. “You’ve already done that many times.”

He laughed and said, “I missed some spots.”

“I don’t think it’s proper,” she said.

He laughed again. “Maybe not, but I don’t care.” With that, he leaned over and picked her up.

Jessica curled her arms around his neck. “Am I too heavy?”

He shook his head. “No, like I told you this morning, you’re perfect.”

Soon enough they were both basking in the steamy water. It took Jon an extraordinarily long time to wash her. True to his word, there wasn’t an inch of her he didn’t touch. She reciprocated for him, taking the time to do what she promised, something she’d been longing to try. The experience wasn’t exactly what she imagined, but she reveled in his pleasure, and that alone made it wonderful.

When she was finished, and so was he, he drew her to him, kissed her lightly and said, “I think I have died and gone to heaven. Did I forget to mention you have perfect lips, a perfect tongue, an amazing, perfect mouth, too?”

Jessica giggled.

He grinned. But then, while staring into her eyes, as he brushed wet fallen strands out of her face, his expression changed. He looked so serious, so grave. She was further stunned by the words that followed from him, and not just because they so closely mirrored her own feelings of inadequacy. She’d never witnessed humility like this. She never saw eyes mist so acutely, or heard a voice so poignantly break.

“You are so special, so extraordinary,” he whispered. “I am so in awe of you. I don’t know how to tell you how wonderful, how incredible I feel just being near you. I am sorry, Jess, so very sorry I can’t be more for you. I am so afraid… so afraid I will ruin this. You deserve so much better. You deserve so much more than I can give.”

* * *

Together with William Hughes and Arnold Whistler, Luther Emerson sat at the bedside of his comrade, Edward Murphy. The poor man was propped up on pillows and covered to his chest by blankets. The bandages from his wrists had been removed to reveal the raw, red wounds where ropes had bound him. More raw, red skin encircled his throat. His face was swollen beyond recognition. Dried blood was caked around his bloated nose, and gauze was pressed between his lips and gums where once his front teeth had been. This made it difficult for him to speak. He could only mumble without moving his lips. The responses he had given to the condolences Luther, William and Arnold Whistler offered thus far were almost indecipherable.

“Did you see who did this to you?” Luther asked next.

Edward Murphy’s eyes widened and he mumbled, “thook… thoo...k.”

“It was the spook!” Whistler confirmed.

Cringing empathetically, Luther asked, “Did you recognize him? Can you tell us who he is?”

The man in the bed shook his head. The movement caused him pain and he winced, which apparently caused him more pain, because he closed his eyes.

“We’ll get him, Edward. We will get him for doing this to you!” Whistler proclaimed.

“Did he say anything to you?” Luther asked.

Edward’s eyes darted back and forth between William and Luther before he shook his head against the pillow.

William Hughes turned to Luther and Arnold. Quietly but sternly, he said, “We need to get the word out. From now on, none of our men travel alone at night. And for this—for what he did to Edward—the spook will pay!”

* * *

The man in black had no idea where the two dozen Klansmen were headed. Whomever they were going after this night was a mystery. Oddly enough, they were traveling toward Shanty Town. This was surprising because they were afraid of the place. They believed the people there, being a more concentrated population, would attack them. The irony of it was mind boggling.

Nevertheless, if Shanty Town was indeed their destination, this didn’t bode well for the man in black. The open terrain surrounding the area would make it hard for him to remain hidden. The only way for him to protect the residents of that dismal place would be from within, and that wasn’t optimal either. The people there might have heard of him, but that didn’t mean they would recognize him. In Shanty Town he was just as likely to be knifed as he was to being shot at by the hooded clowns. He was relieved when the group rode right on by.

The small, clapboard building they stopped in front of wasn’t far down the road. There was no light shining from any of its windows, but that was understandable. At this hour it was unlikely anyone would be inside. Keeping a decent distance, the man in black waited to see what the Klan would do next.

Strangely enough they didn’t bother to set up their emblematic cross. Only a handful of them dismounted from their horses and approached the building, each one going to a different window. Within minutes, their torches were thrown and the Shanty Town church was in flames.

As fury roiled through him, the man in black drew his revolver and aimed at the Klansman who was obviously in charge. He remained steady, keeping his sights on the same man, even after the whole pack of them were well out of range.

Expelling a curse of livid frustration, the man in black dropped his arm. But he’d known before he raised it he wouldn’t fire.

The second week of Jessica’s married life, as she settled in as lady of the manor, wasn’t nearly as blissful as the first, but Jessica wasn’t disappointed. She knew Jon was doing his best to spend every spare moment he could with her. He just had too many responsibilities with overseeing the farm and his horses. Part of his routine included doing paperwork in his study, and occasionally he left to meet with his clients. Most of these meetings were during the day, but twice he had to go out after dinner. Both times he didn’t return until after she was in bed, but he came to her through the connecting door, dressed in his green robe. As he stripped and climbed in bed to take her in his arms, his whispered words of longing told her how badly he missed her.

Early in the week, because she had no real responsibilities to occupy her, and because she didn’t want to be away from Jon any longer than necessary, she decided to meander out to the pasture. She was so enthralled observing her husband training his horses, she ended up by that fence almost every day. He was incredibly gentle and patient, whispering to them, petting them, giving them treats. She saw him put a saddle on one for the first time. The mare kicked and stomped rowdily, obviously panicked. Jon never raised his voice or used force to subdue her. Softly he coaxed and coddled until she calmed on her own. There were several other horses he was breaking, too. While she watched him slowly lower his backside to the saddle on one of them for the first time, her heart was in her throat. She was terrified he would be thrown. But the horse didn’t even snort. It just stood there contentedly. The whole thing was simply amazing. Her husband was simply amazing.

Midweek he took the time out from his busy schedule to take her shopping. Jessica’s goal for the trip was to purchase slates and books for her school. Jon, of course, was more interested in ordering a dozen new dresses for her. He was adamant she choose underclothing, shoes, hats and two new riding habits. The last thing he bought for her at the dressmaker’s was a very pretty, and very warm, white cashmere cloak. Winter would be upon them soon, he said. And then, despite her protests, he insisted they stop at the jewelry store, too.

She hoped, when they returned to the manor, he would be able to spend the rest of the day with her, but that was not to be. Ditter was waiting with a message from Wally. Jon was needed in the stable.

The nights, thankfully, made up for the long days without him. At night, there were no business distractions to take Jon’s attention. At night, Jessica had him all to herself. Just being near him, inhaling his scent, feeling his heartbeat, covering his body with kisses, was wonderful. She loved the way he whispered while he worshipped her, asking questions about what she liked, telling her his own desires and then following up his words with actions. She loved his noises and the expletives he murmured when he was intensely aroused. She loved the way he insisted upon holding her close afterwards, and the way they talked and laughed quietly before sleep claimed them.

Mornings with him were idyllic as well. More often than not, she had to wake him from his deep sleep. The slow smile that brought out his dimples the moment his eyes first met hers tickled her beyond measure. So did the way his hair was flattened in spots and unruly in others. There was something highly attractive about him that way, and the darker shadow of his whiskers only enhanced the effect.

That Saturday, Jessica’s father and brother were expected for dinner. She was ready for them. Not long before, she dressed in one of her new gowns and adorned herself with jewelry Jon had given her. She was waiting, reading in the parlor, when Ditter rapped lightly and said, “The captain is on his way to the house, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Ditter.” Quickly she put her book away and went to meet Jon in the hall. He was dusty and sweaty, but Jessica didn’t care.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed when he saw her. He gave her a brief kiss and said, “I must get cleaned up. Please excuse me, Sweetheart.”

Jessica wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. She held on, demanding another kiss, a much deeper, more sensuous kiss. As their mouths broke apart, Jon moaned, and he whispered, “Hopefully your father and brother won’t stay long. So you and I can have dessert.”

The visit with Trent and her father was pleasant enough, and as always, the meal Ruth prepared for them was extraordinary. Had Jessica not been so preoccupied with thoughts of the dessert her husband had in store, she probably would have enjoyed dinner more. It didn’t help that she could feel Jon’s gaze on her frequently. She was afraid to look at him, for fear of seeing that unmistakable gleam in his eyes. If she did, she knew the anticipation would become so physically tangible she would no longer be able to carry on a conversation with her family at all.

The one thing she did notice was that Trent wasn’t being rude or condescending. He didn’t say much, but that wasn’t unusual for him. She could only surmise that her father had lectured him ahead of time.

As they were getting ready to depart, her father embraced her. Quietly, for her ears alone, he asked, “Are you happy, Jessie? Is Jon being good to you?”

“I am happy, Papa. I am very happy. And Jon has been wonderful to me. I can’t ask for better.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear, my girl.” Softly he kissed her forehead.

“Trent was on his best behavior tonight,” Jessica commented. “I’m glad to see he’s finally coming around.”

To that, her father rolled his eyes. “Let’s hope so.” Then, raising his voice, he said, “Where are you, son? It’s time we head home. Oh, there you are. Come along.”

Jessica waved one last time as the door closed behind them, and then she turned to her husband. Oh, that crooked smile, those hooded, crystal eyes…!

Without breaking his eye contact with her, he said quietly, “Ditter, you can retire for the evening.”

“Yes, sir.”

Neither of them moved until Ditter’s footsteps faded. Taking both of her husband’s hands in hers, Jessica walked backwards toward the parlor, pulling him along. “I have an anniversary present for you,” she told him.

She brought him to the chair by the piano—the one he liked to sit in so he could watch her hands while she played—and she pushed on his shoulders to make him sit. “Are you ready?” she asked.

To his nod, she took her place on the bench, raised her hands to the keys and played his Chopin étude.

She didn’t realize until she came to end of the piece, he was no longer sitting, but standing behind her. His first touch was an open mouth kiss on her nape. As he kissed her again, he whispered, “So lovely… so perfect… you are a dream come true…
oh
God
, how badly I want you…”

Jessica spun on the bench, took his face in both of her hands, and kissed him frantically. Together they rose, without breaking their connection. Jessica’s hands found the front of his trousers and worked madly, trying to open them. Jon’s boot hit the piano bench and the feet of it scraped loudly against the hardwood floor as he shoved it out of the way. At the same time he lifted her skirt and petticoat. They lost their balance, backing blindly into the piano. A splay of discord sounded as Jessica’s backside came in contact with several keys.

Struggling with her undergarments, Jon whispered breathlessly against her mouth, “Jess, oh my love, I need to be inside of you.”

“Yes,” she replied urgently. “Hurry, please hurry!”

So he complied. Disjointed chords on the piano sounded in a fast but steady rhythm, but they didn’t last long. They faded away in perfect harmony.

Much later, as they lay curled together in Jessica’s cozy bed, they shared yet another round of laughter over their stealthy trip to the trash containers, where they hoped they’d successfully hid Jessica’s torn undergarments. As their laughter faded, Jon gave her a final, tender kiss for the day and murmured the words he said to her every night before they slept, “I love you, Sweetheart.”

Little did Jessica know, within a mere three days, all of her bliss would come crashing down.

* * *

Jon had to leave early for an appointment in a neighboring town and wouldn’t be returning until late in the afternoon. To see him off, and perhaps to shorten their separation for as long as possible, Jessica decided to walk with him to the stables. As they strolled hand in hand, she caught sight of Willy, Jacob and two of the other boys running across the field toward the orchard.

“Less than a week to go. I can’t wait,” she said. The following Monday was the designated day her school for the servants’ children would begin.

Jon’s expression was one of shamefaced apology. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

“You didn’t talk to them yet?” she asked, but she already knew the answer. If he had spoken with any of his servants, as he promised to do, he would have shared their reactions with her. At the very least, he would have mentioned it in passing.

“I forgot,” he said.

“That’s okay.” Jessica tried not to let her disappointment show. “We still have almost a week to tell them.”

“I’ll talk to them today. I’ll talk to them as soon as I return this afternoon.” They had just reached the stable. The wide double doors were standing open as they usually were during the day. Jon called out sternly, “Wally, saddle Webster.”

Wally was mucking out one of the stalls. He quickly stopped what he was doing and hurried to carry out Jon’s orders. It didn’t take him long. Within a minute or two, during which Jon embraced Jessica and murmured tender words of farewell, Wally led the stallion to them.

Jon took the reins, and Wally made a beeline back toward the stall he was cleaning. Hastily, Jessica nudged Jon with her elbow.

“What is it? Oh,” he said. Then he barked, “Wally, send Sadie to the kitchen at nine o’clock Monday morning. Make sure she’s not late!”

He didn’t say anything more. He gave no explanation, and he didn’t wait for Wally’s reply. He just turned to Jessica, brushed her cheek with the back of his finger and said softly, “I’ll miss you, Sweetheart.”

As he rode off, he turned and waved. Absently Jessica returned the gesture, but she was too appalled to do more than stare after him. Long after he was out of sight, she still stood there. But then, hitching her skirt, she marched into the stable and right up to the stall where Wally was bent at his task.

“Wally?”

He stopped what he was doing and turned to her, but as always, he didn’t look at her. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I want to talk to you about why the captain asked you to send Sadie to the kitchen.”

“She done sompin’ she wernt suppose ta, be ma guess, ma’am.”

“Oh no, Wally, that’s not it at all. On Monday morning I’m starting a school for the children here. I want them to learn to read and write and do figures. What do you think? Do you think Sadie will be interested?”

“I don’t know nothin’ ’bout no school, ma’am.”

“Yes, I understand, but I think it will be good for them.” She went on quoting the benefits of education she’d heard verbatim from Carl Robbins. In the end, she asked, “Don’t you agree that the children should learn, that they’ll have an easier time in the world knowing how to read and write? Don’t you think having a school here is a good idea?”

“I don’t know nothin’ ’bout dat, ma’am.”

Jessica sighed. But she was determined. The last thing she wanted was for Jon to approach any of the others the way he did Wally. She certainly didn’t want any of them believing their children were being summoned for punishment! “Would you mind saddling Jasmine for me? I am going out to the fields to speak with everyone else about sending their children to the school, too.”

By noon, with the exception of Martha, Ruth, Herlin and Ditter, she’d been around the entire property and spoken with all of the parents. Like Wally, none of them were particularly receptive to the idea, but at least they agreed to allow their children to come. The joy Jessica expected to feel never really matriculated. Even so, garnering the last vestiges of hope, she made her way to the kitchen where she knew Martha and Ruth would be.

After she gave them the same impromptu speech she’d given to the others, Ruth’s response was, “The captain will be angry.”

Vehemently Jessica shook her head. “That’s not true. He supports the idea. He even helped me purchase the supplies I will need—slates and chalk and books.”

Both of them stared at her skeptically.

“Obviously Chelsea is too young, but will you let Jacob and Willy come?” Jessica asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Ruth.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Martha.

“I will do my best to make school fun for the children and keep them interested.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Ruth.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Martha.

Even though she knew how they would respond, Jessica asked the same question she asked every day, “Is there anything I can do to help either of you?”

“No, ma’am,” said Ruth.

“No, ma’am,” said Martha.

But then, just as she was turning to leave, Martha said, “Dis school fo’ da chilren be good o’ ya, ma’am.”

It was the first positive comment Jessica received, and it did spark an element of delight in her. Nevertheless, she couldn’t fully shake the despondency. While she played the piano that afternoon she realized it wasn’t so much the reactions from the children’s parents that were causing it. It was Jon.