Judith Stacy (12 page)

B
randon on the rear lawn? Jana made her way through the house, as Charles had directed her, wondering what sort of problem would cause Brandon to send for her, and insist that she join him immediately. He’d never done that before.

And that was the sole reason Jana went downstairs in her state of dress. The lavender day dress with nothing underneath but pantalettes and a chemise was certainly not appropriate attire for anyplace in the house or on the grounds, except her bedchamber.

Stepping out onto the porch, Jana gazed across the rear yard. Stone paths wound through the shrubs and flowers, the fountains and the palm trees. She didn’t see Brandon but knew where he most likely was.

Jana’s slippers brushed the soft grass as she crossed to the area of the yard the gardeners had been working on recently. She’d asked them to construct an arched
arbor in a tall hedgerow, a portal to a portion of the yard that she decided would make a lovely private garden. An isolated spot, obscured from the house by the hedges, it offered solitude from problems, troubles and unpopular houseguests. A perfect respite after a busy day.

She stepped through the arbor and spotted Brandon standing in the center of the garden, still dressed in his work clothes, taking in the area with a critical eye.

“Brandon?”

He turned quickly. “You’re here. Good. I wanted you to see—”

His words stopped abruptly when his gaze fell on her. He shifted, and drew in a quick breath. Jana flushed from head to toe. She wasn’t sure which of them was more conscious of her diminished dress—Brandon or herself.

For an instant, Jana thought she should leave. But somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to move from the spot. Brandon wanted her. It couldn’t be more obvious. And that was an allure too potent to ignore.

He walked toward her, his gaze still wandering. “I, ah, I wanted you to come out here and…and…” Brandon stopped in front of her and rubbed his forehead. He glanced down at the ground, then at her face again. “Damn if I can remember.”

Jana flushed anew with the power her mere presence held. Brandon Sayer, revered by so many for his brilliant mind, rendered momentarily brainless because she appeared before him without her corset, bustle and petticoats.

“The garden,” she said, smiling gently. “You probably wanted me to see the garden.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Brandon gave himself a little shake and gestured with his hand. “I stopped by before I went to the refuge this afternoon and saw that the gardeners were finished. I wanted you to see it this evening. To make sure this is what you wanted.”

Jana deliberately turned her attention to the improvements she’d asked the gardeners to make, conscious all the while of Brandon’s hot gaze still climbing over her. Conscious, too, of the warmth that grew inside of her. She forced her mind to the task at hand, taking in the flower bed, the shrubs, the statues and benches she’d asked for. It all looked especially cozy in the fading evening sun.

“It’s lovely,” she said.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

No, not really. But she seemed to be having as much trouble concentrating as Brandon.

Why had he never worn work clothes during the first three months of their marriage? His ruggedness appealed to her in an entirely different way. And had he looked at her the way he did now? With raw desire in his expression? Desire that spilled onto her?

Or was it just their months of separation that intensified everything?

“Would you take a look around?” Brandon asked, gesturing around the garden. “Just to make sure the gardeners did everything you wanted?”

“All right,” she agreed, though the thought sprang into her mind that leaving might be more prudent.

Brandon walked alongside her as they made their way slowly through the garden. He asked about every statue, every flower bed, every plant, making sure it fit her specifications.

When she’d initially assigned him the task of overseeing the gardeners’ work, it had been more to annoy him than because she really wanted a private garden. His ranting about duties and responsibilities had provoked her and she’d wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the garden had turned out quite nicely.

“I know you wanted this bench to face the other way,” Brandon said as they stood in front of it, “but then the morning sun would have been in your face, so I had it changed.”

“It’s perfect.” Jana gazed up at him as evening shadows cast them both in dim light. “In fact, everything is perfect. You did an excellent job overseeing the gardeners. Thank you.”

He nodded and allowed himself a small smile, satisfied with himself and the work.

“Good,” Brandon said. “I want you to be happy…with everything. And, in fact, I thought it would be nice if you and I— Here we are.”

Jana turned in the direction that had taken Brandon’s attention and saw three of the house servants coming through the arbor, carrying a quilt and two wicker hampers.

“What’s this?” Jana asked.

“Late supper,” Brandon said. He spoke to the servants, directing them to set up the picnic, then said, “I thought it would be nice if you and I ate out here, just so you can get the feel of the garden.”

Jana glanced at the arbor and considered making a dash for it. This late supper of Brandon’s had romantic interlude written all over it. After last night in the attic, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to stand up to her own edict of allowing no intimacy between them.

But he was trying awfully hard to see that she was happy. She couldn’t doubt that. He’d overseen the garden, made sure it met her specifications, and he’d arranged with the servants to bring their supper here.

Fourteen months ago he’d not wanted her at his breakfast table. He barely spoke during supper. And now he’d brought her a picnic in the garden.

“Is it all right?” Brandon asked, sounding genuinely concerned that he might have done the wrong thing.

Jana drew in a determined breath. What better opportunity would she have to prove to herself that she could resist Brandon? That she could sit under the stars in this isolated garden and not succumb to his charms?

That she could walk away from him when their thirty days together were up and know she’d done the right thing.

“It’s a wonderful idea,” Jana said.

The servants fussed over the meal for a few minutes, then hurried away. Brandon offered his hand and Jana
lowered herself onto the pale blue quilt, drawing her legs under her and pulling down her skirt. Brandon plopped down beside her, close, but not too close.

“Let’s see, what have we got?” he murmured, as he lifted a bottle of wine from one of the open hampers. “This looks good.”

Everything, indeed, looked good. The servants had spread out platters of grapes and strawberries, cheese and ham and chunks of bread to go along with the wine. Jana placed a little of everything on two china plates while Brandon poured the wine.

“Shall we drink to something?” he asked.

“Such as what?” she asked, accepting a crystal glass.

“Hum…let’s see. Our past wasn’t all that pleasant, and our future is a little cloudy,” Brandon said. “I guess that just leaves us with the present.”

“To the present,” Jana said, clinking her glass against his. She sipped the wine and smiled. “This ‘present’ is very nice.”

“The only way it could be better is if you let me touch your breasts.”

“What?”

He sipped his wine and let his gaze fall on her bosom. “You have the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen, or touched, or…or, well, you remember the things we used to do.”

Heat rushed through Jana at the recollection. Her memory didn’t fail her.

“I owe you an apology for last night in the attic,” Jana
said, setting her wineglass aside. “You’ve done as I asked, respected my wish that we…that you…”

“That I remain celibate in my own home with my own wife in bed in the next room?”

He hadn’t said it with rancor, yet it bothered Jana just the same.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I owe you an apology. It was my fault. It started when I touched your cheek—”

“No, Jana. All you have to do is walk into the room.” He grinned. “Or into a garden.”

“I should leave.”

“Don’t bother. It won’t matter.” He touched her arm, stilling her. “I want you every minute of every day and every night.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I learned fourteen months ago not to take anything for granted. A very hard, very painful lesson, but I learned it.” Brandon was silent for a while. “I never told you why I wrote you in London, asked you to come home.”

He hadn’t, she realized. Even in the letter, he hadn’t explained his demand for her return. Simply said that she was to come home.

“No, you never told me,” she said.

Brandon studied the horizon for a moment, then spoke.

“A few months ago, Charles asked for a day off. He said the other servants requested it also. Oddly enough, Mr. Perkins at the office had asked the same thing.” Brandon turned to Jana. “It was the day before Christmas Eve, and I hadn’t realized it.”

“Oh, Brandon…”

“I got a good hard look at my future, and I didn’t like what I saw.” He drew in a breath. “So, I wrote to you.”

“And when I got here, I asked for a divorce,” Jana said, feeling a little ashamed after hearing how he’d spent Christmas.

“That did surprise me,” Brandon admitted. He looked into her eyes. “I love you, Jana.”

She looked away. “Don’t say that. You know we decided to wait until the four weeks were up and then decide what to do.”

“I love you.” Brandon shrugged. “That won’t change—whether you stay or go.”

They gazed at each other for a minute and Jana saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes. She pressed her lips together, forbidding herself to say anything.

Brandon seemed not to notice her dilemma as he took up the plate of food and ate. She did the same, picking at the fruit, the cheese. Then, with a deep sigh, Brandon lay back and stretched out on the quilt, tucking his hands behind his head.

“Tired?” she asked.

“Those boys at the refuge work me harder than anything at the office.” He grinned. “Can’t remember the last time I climbed a tree.”

Jana smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time she had
enjoyed
watching anyone climb a tree.

“Look.” Brandon pointed toward the sky. “The first star of the evening.”

Jana turned toward the horizon and saw a star shining in the closing darkness.

“Make a wish,” he said.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, made her wish, then turned to Brandon.

“I know what you wished for,” she said. “Success with your Jennings project.”

He raised a brow at her. “Is that what you think?”

“I know it’s important to you.”

“I wouldn’t waste a wish on that project,” Brandon said. “Not to sound immodest, but the Jennings building needs no magic. I’ve already seen to everything. The renovations are underway and new tenants are lining up, eagerly filling my pockets with their lease money.”

“Isn’t that a bit premature?” she asked. Though they’d had this conversation before, the knowledge that he’d gone ahead with the project bothered Jana. “What if the
Messenger
somehow pulls through? What will people think of you if that happens?”

“They’ll think I’m a complete idiot and my reputation will be ruined.” He gave her a quick, confident smile. “But that won’t happen.”

“You hope,” Jana said. But she’d noticed that Brandon had stopped reading the
Messenger
. A sure indication that he’d made up his mind, once and for all.

“It won’t happen, Jana.” Brandon closed this topic of conversation by shifting on the ground and gesturing toward the sky again. “I know what you wished for.”

“I’ll bet you don’t.”

“You wished that you could see me naked.”

“Brandon!”

“Don’t bother to lie,” he told her. “I see that look on your face.”

She swatted him on the arm. “You’re certainly full of yourself tonight.”

Brandon chuckled. “All right, then. Choose another star and make another wish. I’ll still know what you wished for.”

Jana watched him for a minute and he gave her a look that challenged her to do just that. She couldn’t resist.

She lay back on the quilt beside him, but not so close that they touched. “Let’s see. I’ll need to find the perfect star for this wish.”

Darkness had fallen, bringing out the moon and thousands of stars. Her gaze combed the sky for a moment, then she squeezed her eyes closed and cast her wish into the heavens.

“There,” she said. “It’s done. What did I wish for?”

Brandon made a show of touching his forehead with his fingertips and furrowing his brow as if receiving some divine knowledge.

“Your wish,” he announced, “is for me to touch your breasts.”

“It is not!”

In the blink of an eye, he rolled toward her and pushed himself up on his elbow, their bodies touching, his face inches from hers.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly.

Breath left Jana in a little wheeze at the memories this position evoked. How many times had they lain together this way? Him above her? His warm breath on her cheek? His hand trailing down her jaw, to her throat, to her—

“Well?” he asked, his voice low and mellow. “I remember that you used to like it when I…”

Instead of describing anything more, Brandon touched his finger to that particular spot behind her ear, the one that caused her to shiver, as it did now. Slowly, he dragged his fingertip down her throat, to her chest until it skimmed her breast where it swelled from her dress. He lowered his head, panting hot breath on the spot.

“You let me touch you last night. Here,” he murmured and brushed his knuckles across the underside of her breast.

Jana gasped.

“Beautiful…” He moved his hand to her other breast, brushing it with his fingertips. Then he cupped it with his palm and squeezed it gently. He kneaded it, sliding his hand upward.

Jana held her breath, the exquisite feel, the anticipation keeping her speechless.

Higher his hand rose, approaching the crest. Jana pushed her breasts outward, filling his hand. He inched closer, closer, then pulled his hand away.