The Claiming (14 page)

Blane was on the point of telling him that such an errand would prove fruitless. He'd seen Jana cross the lawn and take the path to the creek nearly a quarter of an hour since. He checked the impulse, deciding that if Jana wanted a little time to herself, it wasn't his place to thwart her.

One look at Alain's face, however, when confronted with the unwelcome news that the mistress wasn't in her room ... or the house for that matter, and that no one knew where she'd gone, was sufficient to make him rethink the matter. He decided to slip off as soon as possible and warn her that Alain's mood was decidedly nasty; that he wished to speak to her; and that it would be far healthier for her if she didn't let him stew too long.

***

It was an uncomfortably warm day. The cool water in the creek beckoned. Jana knew very well that what she had planned was forbidden. But, if Blane and his friends could cool themselves with impunity, she saw was no real reason why she couldn't. She was alone. No one would ever know.

Halting beside a fallen tree on the banks of the creek, she stripped off the layer upon layer of clothes required by the women of Orleans and waded in, gasping in delight as the chilled water caressed her ankles and thighs. In a moment, she was submerged to her chin and attempting to mimic the rhythmic motions she’d seen Blane and his friends use to propel themselves through the water.

Somehow, it wasn't nearly as easy as it had looked when she'd spied upon them, she discovered. Quickly tiring of the unaccustomed exercise, she waded back to shallow water and reclined on the creek bed, supported by her elbows and submerged almost up to her chin.

The sound of snapping twigs intruded suddenly, like the jarring twang of a badly tuned musical instrument. Jana whirled toward the sound, fearfully expecting to discover some predator had come down to the water to drink. The sight that met her gaze would certainly have been considered a predator in some circles, but it definitely wasn't what she'd expected.

"Blane!" she gasped. In the next moment she was spluttering and coughing on a mouthful of water, having retreated to deeper water with more haste than caution.

Blane grinned, settling himself on a stump with all the air of having formed the intention of relaxing for a prolonged visit. "If I'd known we had water sprites in the creek, I'd have been down here before," he said.

"What are you doing here?" she gasped worriedly. Alain had already accused her of trying to seduce Blane. He would be very unhappy if he were to come upon them.

"I'm watching a beautiful water sprite," Blane said, grinning. "You know, that looks damned enticing. I believe I'll join you.”

"You wouldn't!" Jana said a little doubtfully.

"Wouldn't I just!" Blane retorted, wiggling his brows up and down wickedly.

Jana was certain then that Blane was teasing. Despite her anxieties, she chuckled at his expression. "You know very well it’s forbidden! Go away. I want to get out now."

"Come ahead," Blane invited, grinning devilishly.

"I can't come out with you standing there!" Jana said indignantly.

"Ah ha," Blane crowed triumphantly. "Remember when I had to tread water because you refused to leave before I showed you how to swim!"

Jana bit her lip. “I did apologize.”

“After I’d nearly drowned!”

Jana tilted her head, studying him. “My skin is shrinking," she said, holding out her hands to show him.

Blane laughed. “Wrinkling, goose.”

Jana started pelting him with a barrage of water, most of which he neatly dodged.

"Well!" Blane said, mock indignant, his eyes dancing with merriment. "Never let it be said that I don't know when I'm not wanted!"

"Obviously you don't!" Jana retorted, eyeing him with disfavor as he rose to leave.

He hadn't gone more than a few yards when he smote his forehead and swore aloud. He turned, grinning sheepishly at her. "Damn…. Forgot why I came down here!"

"What did you forget?"

Blane shrugged. "Alain is in one of his black moods. He wanted to speak with you after breakfast. He wasn't at all pleased when he discovered you'd gone out."

"Well, if he has any other kind of mood, I've not seen it,” she said tersely, feeling a definite sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Go away before he comes and decides that I enticed you here!”

"All right! I'm going. Just ... just ... oh never mind," he finished, turning and starting back up the path once more.

"Blane," Jana called after him. He stopped and turned. "He can't be so very angry with me, can he? I haven't done anything lately that I shouldn't, have I?"

Blane smiled affectionately. "If you discount swimming naked in the creek … which, hopefully, he won’t find out about…. No, not lately, brat!"

When she was certain he was gone, Jana waded from the water. She glanced ruefully down at herself as she gathered her hair and twisted it, wringing the water from it. She had not thought to bring anything to dry herself.

That was the problem with deciding to do something on impulse. One was never prepared for the consequences.

She finally decided to use her underclothing to dry herself and don her dress without it. No one would know, after all. Once she returned to the house she could put on the clothing considered necessary to be properly dressed.

***

Alain stared sightlessly at the view beyond his study window, deep in thought. A movement near the edge of the woods caught his eye and he turned in time to see Blane disappear along the narrow trail that led into the woods and wound eventually to the creek.

He frowned and, on impulse, decided to follow him. He could think of only one reason that would take Blane into the woods so hard upon their conversation. Blane either knew, or supposed he knew, where Jana was and thought he needed to warn her. But of what? And which was it, foreknowledge or a good guess? He wasn't certain he wanted to know. He was certain, however, that he needed to. He was heartily sick of the plaguing doubts.

As voices do in the wood, theirs traveled far and quite audibly. He heard them long before he saw them, and had his answers as well … and answers to a few other questions besides that weren't nearly as pleasing. How true, he thought ruefully, that an eavesdropper never hears well of himself.

He knew what he would find long before he reached them. The sound of splashing water had both alerted him to that and directed him to their location. He wasn't pleased that Jana had slipped off alone to bathe in the creek, but it was infinitely better than the purpose he'd suspected.

His direction, he discovered when he saw them, had taken him to a point a short distance from them, a spot that was apparently used for bathing with some regularity. It afforded him a rather pleasant view, however, and he propped against a tree and watched appreciatively, thinking Blane had been wrong to liken her to a water sprite. To imagine her as a water creature was to liken her to cool, placid waters. Jana was tumultuous wind, rain, sunlight ... heat....

His smile died on his lips as she stood and waded from the creek. Poetic thoughts fled, replaced by primal, carnal urges as scalding heat swept through him.

No sculptor in his search for womanly perfection could have more faithfully produced such flawlessness from the most cunning fingers or fertile imagination. She was pink and white perfection, soft and round in all the right places. If he hadn't been rooted to the spot in stunned admiration, he would've strode forward on the instant and taken her then and there, for his body had become hard and painfully aroused the moment she rose from the water.

Frozen into immobility as much by his thoughts as by the will to restrain his body's primal urgings, he waited for her to spy him and release him from his spell. She had merely to look his way. He stood in plain view.

She tugged her gown over her head then sat down on a fallen tree near the water's edge and pulled on her stockings and shoes. She was in the process of tying her garters when she glanced toward him, apparently only just then feeling the intensity of his gaze. He stood away from the tree and strode toward her purposefully.

Jana stared up at Alain in horrified dismay as he came to a halt before her. Her fingers, on spying him, had been too clumsy to manage the buttons of her bodice and she clutched the scrap of material to her, painfully aware that trying to hide her nakedness now was probably a case of too little too late. She moistened her dry lips. "How ... how long ... how long?" she finally managed to get out in a hoarse whisper.

A flicker of amusement lit his eyes and his lips twitched. "Long enough," he answered casually.

Jana’s lips parted in dismay, her mind grappling with the possibilities. To hear everything? To see everything? "For what?" she asked despairingly, certain he would explode any moment in anger since she had blatantly disregarded every prohibition she’d known about Orleans when she’d decided to bathe naked in a public place. Or worse, accuse her of having shared herself with Blane.

Instead of replying immediately, he grasped her shoulders gently and turned her so that her back was to him. Brushing her trembling fingers from the gown, he carefully straightened the fabric and began to fasten the row of buttons. "To see what I wished to see," he answered calmly as he lifted her hair and draped it across her shoulder.

He seemed strangely calm, but the fact of the matter was Jana had long since realized that Alain’s temper was probably far more dangerous than Marty’s, be he ever so outraged, for Alain was a man who kept himself in careful control. She did not want to be in his vicinity if it ever broke his control and surfaced.

Despite her fear, however, despite her certainty that she had done something she’d known full well she shouldn’t, she was worn down from weeks of sparring with Alain in her attempt to keep her secret safe. It didn’t seem to matter that he had no idea of what she had done. He was certain she was guilty of something and determined to detest her. Illogically, her fear and despair manifested itself in anger. "You ... you had no right to ... to spy on me!" she said indignantly.

He hesitated. When he spoke again his voice had become perceptibly harder and unpleasantly cold. Jana shivered slightly as his fingers grazed her back.

"It wasn't necessary to spy. You might easily have noticed me had you not been so intent on your little game with my brother," Alain said harshly, well aware he was accusing her unjustly.

However, he could no more keep from lashing out at her with the first stinging retort that came to mind than he could fight the frustrated anger that surged through him when she spoke. He was jealous of her obvious affection for Blane, even though he was reasonably certain they weren't lovers. The contrast between her teasing, playful way with Blane and her angry wariness of him was entirely too marked to ignore.

Jana flushed slightly and hung her head dejectedly. He had once again caught her in a compromising situation with Blane that made her seem guilty even if she wasn't. She was quite unable to come up with any excuse that would make her seem less so. "You might have made your presence known," she said resentfully.

"I might have," Alain conceded more pleasantly, mollified that the accusing note had left her voice, "but then I wouldn't have discovered what I wished to know. When I followed Blane you see, I suspected a lovers’ tryst."

The glance she flung at him over her shoulder was so reproachful that it was with difficulty that he maintained his gravity. She noticed the amusement that gleamed in his eyes, however, and glared at him before resolutely facing away once more. "But you think now that it was not?"

"I think you are innocent of subterfuge in this instance, yes," he said quietly.

The comment angered her more. As unjust as his continual suspicions seemed, she was unfortunately aware that much of it was her own fault. In theory, she understood the strict rules of behavior that Blane had explained to her. In practice, she could not seem to grasp all of the little fine points, and it was those that became cracks she continually fell through. And each time she did, Alain was there to see, to judge, and to condemn.

She began to realize that she had placed herself in a hopeless situation in coming to Orleans. She could not fit in. She had tried very hard to learn everything, to adopt the customs, the manners, the speech. She had done well. She knew she had, for no one seemed to question that she was who she claimed to be, but she was still an outworlder.

And Alain had no patience with her mistakes. He saw every one as deliberate and calculated. It was almost as if he wanted to think the worst of her. “Well,” she said tightly, “you have completely mistaken the matter. In point of fact, you were right the first time. I was only surprised to see Blane because we usually meet in the … uh … in the barn.”

“It seems a rather uncomfortable spot to pick for a romantic rendezvous.”

“Sometimes we meet in the orchard. It all depends, really,” Jana said airily.

“Night or day?”

“What?”

“I was just curious to know when you two generally meet.”

“Oh … well, he’s only one of my lovers, if you must know. We meet in the evenings, usually. But if he finds he can’t slip away, then I meet … uh … someone else.”

He'd finished with her dress and for a moment rested his hands lightly on her shoulders before he turned her to face him. "In that case," he murmured, stepping closer, "you must allow me to judge your expertise."

She looked up, startled, and backed away a step. "Expertise?"

"Certainly," he said pleasantly, advancing another step. "If you have that many lovers, undoubtedly you've acquired considerable expertise, and I confess I'm curious to know what it's like to make love to a woman who can claim so much experience.

"B ... but ... but it's broad daylight!" Jana gasped a little desperately, taking another step back. “You mean now?”

The amusement in his eyes deepened. "I appreciate your efforts to spare my blushes, but I assure you it's unnecessary," he murmured smoothly, matching her by taking another step forward.

He was laughing at her! Jana thought, torn between indignation and a definite desire to escape.