The Dream (17 page)

“Remember,” he said with a wiggle of brow, “nothing untoward.”

“What do ladies generally like?”

Jason shrugged. “The usual. Pretties, fripperies, flowers. How should I know? You’re a woman.”

At the slight befuddlement, she smiled. “Take me fishing.”

At his shocked expression, she hastily added, “That is if you are not married when you decide to pay your forfeit. And if you know how.”

“Fishing? You want me to take you fishing?” Black ebony brows rose high above his eyes, before he frowned and muttered under his breath about fans.

“Yes.” Fans? Uncertainty laced through her.

With a small shake of his head he agreed, whispering, “Fishing?”

From the look on his face she could tell his next question was going to cost her.

“What was your family like?”

She knew it. “My family? You mean my parents?”

At his nod she thought about her answer.

“My mother is wonderful. She is very beautiful, and loves us very much. My sister and I were very close. Her name is Anne. I really miss her sometimes, actually all the time.” Lord, did she ever.

“You said
is
. I thought your family was dead, and what of your father?”

That stupid story. Her grandparents had told everyone that she’d married and moved away and after her husband passed on, she went back home, but could not find her family. America, full of barbarians, was a dangerous place. “We don’t know anything for certain. I see no reason to give up hope for my mother and sister. As for Neil, he liked to think he was a man of God, but he wasn’t and I will only say that I hope he rots in Purgatory for all eternity.”

Perhaps she’d been too venomous with that last remark.

“For all eternity?” he asked grinning.

She couldn’t return the amusement. Emily silently looked out the window. Stupid. She should have kept that last bit to herself. What was it about being here that made her forget things? To keep it all inside? How could she have forgotten the first rule? Never allow others to see the truth? And what was it about this man that lowered her guard?

“Emily?”

“Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry. My turn is it? What is your family like?” She repeated his question back to him.

“My parents were wonderful. They loved each other very much. Threw caution to the wind, my father did, just as my grandfather before him. My grandmother was a governess when she met my grandfather. She was the second daughter of a destitute Scottish laird. My mother was the daughter of a vicar, of course, she was also the granddaughter of a duke, so I suppose both were thought to be acceptable. That is something I admire about the males of my family. They loved their wives very much and didn’t care who saw it, or what those people thought.”

She watched his fingers drum on his thigh, strong, yet elegant fingers. Long and well shaped. Theodore hands had been tanned, thin, their appearance hiding their strengths until he struck. No, think of Jason. His hands made her think of how gentle he was when he’d felt her face the other night after the
Athridge
affair. The way they’d grazed so carefully over her wrist.

She took a deep breath.

His voice drew her attention back to his face. “I too have a sister. Caroline, obviously. We were the only children and she is just a few years older than you I believe.”

Emily listened as he told more of his family. “Mother is still alive and is living in Cornwall. Though she’s been in Kent for three weeks. Father died two years ago in a hunting accident when he fell from his horse.”

“What happened?”

He looked at her, his eyes turbulent. “We’d argued and I took off on Pegasus to cool my head before I said something I might regret. Mother sent him after me and we actually managed to talk.” He frowned as if still trying to figure that bit out. “We had one of the few man-to-man conversations I can ever remember having with him. It was as if were equals instead of father and son.” He sighed. “We headed back to the house when the storm opened up. Lightning shot down and shattered a tree.” He shrugged and swallowed. “A rather large limb fell atop him. I too was struck down. Never knew if it was a rock or limb that gave me this, not that it matters.” He ran his finger over the scar. “A groom found us. Thought we were both dead.”

Silence settled in the carriage.

“You miss him,” she said.

“Yes, I do,” Jason admitted.

The game they were playing went on quite smoothly as they both moved to safer, mundane topics. Interests. Passions. Books. Places to see. They were passing through a village and Jason knew they would be at Blackstone Manor within an half an hour. His mood had deepened since speaking of his father. He hoped that by opening up about his past, she might confide in him.

“Emily, what was your husband—I don’t even know his name—like?”

Silence. Jason started to wonder if she had even heard his question, but just as he was about to repeat it, Emily answered.

She twisted her hands in her lap. “Theodore was considered an upstanding member of the community and a revered member at the church. He became the minister for the last couple of years he was alive, after Neil passed on.”

Answered, but not in the way he wanted. Theodore. He remembered that name from her fevered
rantings
. He remembered her begging Theodore to stop. He ground his teeth until they groaned.

“Why do you ask?” Her soft question pulled him back.

“Truthfully, I have no idea.” Jason bit down on his temper, but the compulsion to
know
ate at him. “I suppose because, even though it shouldn’t, it bothers me that another man has held you like I have, kissed you like I have. It bothers me, even though it shouldn’t. It’s none of my business I know. Call it morbid curiosity.” He studied her. “Was Theodore a passionate man?”

“
What?
” Her incredulous voice reflected her shocked expression.

“Never mind.” Jason felt like a complete idiot. What had made him ask such an inappropriate question?

Silence radiated throughout the carriage as it rolled down the road, bouncing and jostling slightly as it hit a pothole.

“About some things. Theodore had a passion for his religion, for his beliefs, for…” Emily trailed off.

“For you?”

Jason watched her closely, noticed how she slightly paled, and fisted her hands. He thought she wouldn’t answer his question that he’d unintentionally blurted out.

“I suppose some would say he was, in his own way.”

That wasn’t what Jason wanted to hear. But when he got over his first reaction of jealousy he realized there was more underlying her words. More than she was telling. He wondered at it, and was all too afraid he understood it.

“What do you mean?” he asked, carefully, leaning slightly forward, his elbows on his knees.

Shaking her head she sat up straighter and said, “No, I won’t answer that.”

Jason knew she was fortifying the walls she had built around herself. However, he had found a weakness there. For just a few minutes he was able to see partly beyond those walls. He found he wanted to knock down each and every one, stone by stone. He just didn’t know how, but he would. He rubbed his finger down his scar again.

For a moment, neither said a word.

Then Emily spoke. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

Jason looked at her. “What wasn’t?”

“The accident with your father.”

He frowned, wondering how the topic had been turned back to him and how the woman had landed on that very issue he’d never told another soul. He stared at her for a moment, then cleared his throat. “If I hadn’t…” He trailed off as she reached out and grabbed his hand. Her eyes. She knew.

“No it wasn’t. You can berate yourself for it, for the rest of your life, but it won’t help.”

“How would you know?” he asked as he pulled his hand away.

“Because of my mother.” She blinked, but didn’t look away. “I blame myself for wherever she is today.”

“What do you mean?”

She shook her head, reached over and patted his thigh before sitting back in her own seat.

His confused emotions, edging all too quickly toward anger had vanished when she patted his damn thigh into something entirely more basic. He was looking at her when she turned back to him.

“How did you come by yours?”

“My what?”

“Your scar,” he said leaning forward. Ever so slowly he reached up and traced the small irregular shape on her upper lip.

Shaking her head, he knew she wouldn’t answer that question.

He couldn’t help but take her hands in his and place a gentle kiss on her wrists. Emily shivered, but it wasn’t, he knew, because she was chilled.

Jason realized they were now within a quarter of an hour away from their destination.

“So, you’ve found your bride. Whoever the woman is, she is very fortunate to have you.”

“Do you think so? You think she’ll be happy to marry me? I hope so. I plan to be generous to a fault. If the woman was able to catch my heart, then I want to be able to give her anything she desires. I will cherish her, and love her, and hope that she will do the same. I will try not to be too jealous, but I must admit that what I consider mine is mine. Infidelity I will never tolerate. I hope to be a good father to our children.” He saw the confusion in her eyes, shifting over—disappointment? Jason hoped so. Since he still held her hands, he gently pulled her closer to him. Once again he turned her wrist up to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the sensitive skin. Emily shivered. “Do you think I’ll make a decent sort of husband and father, Emily?”

“Y-Yes. I-I do,” she whispered.

He couldn’t help it. He had to taste again. Honey and vanilla. That was her taste. As their lips touched, a soft sigh escaped her. He tried to be gentle, but he had to have more. Jason slanted his mouth demandingly over hers, wanting more, needing more. He tongue plunged into her mouth as her sigh softly released. She met him in every demand and every act. Emily was a passionate woman, yet confusingly, she seemed new to it, as though she were a virgin, but of course she wasn’t. Not that Jason cared at that particular moment if the woman with him were a virgin or a widow. She was an enigma, full of contrasts. That described the honey-colored siren in his arms.

His mouth moved from hers to her chin, raining little kisses along her
jawline
, ending at her ear, where he lingered, pulling the lobe between his teeth. Another shudder shook Emily.

“It’s like a fire,” she whispered.

He grinned. “I know.” He licked the area beneath her ear, near her jaw, felt her pulse against his lips. Her vanilla scent teased him. “You smell like a sweetmeat. I could just…” He returned to ravage her mouth.

Emily was lost in the onslaught of emotions. She arched against him without even realizing her body was answering its own desires. Jason seemed to know just what to do. She really shouldn’t be kissing him. He was thinking of marrying another woman.

But he made her feel…

Alive.

Special.

His mouth teased hers, and their breaths mixed.

Cherished.

His hand trailed from the back of her neck along her shoulder and back up her collarbone, finally dipping low to cradle her breast.

Emily gasped with the shock of it. And from the pleasure. Moaning into his mouth, she hardened her efforts to match his kisses.

“Emily. Honey. We’ve got to stop.” He pulled gently away, holding her arms. She put a hand to her lips, heavy and swollen from his kisses.

“You’re beautiful.” He licked his lips. “And taste like vanilla.” He kissed the tip of her nose and sat her back into her seat. Jason took a deep breath and leaned back against the cushions behind him. “I apologize. I seem to always forget myself when I am with you. I am usually the perfect gentleman. I do assure you.”

“I know.” And if she made him forget to be a gentleman? What did that say about her? She rubbed her forehead.

“I’ve another question for you.”

Emily decided to enjoy what time they had left in the carriage. “Another one? This isn’t about my past is it? Because I will tell you, I won’t answer it. And in all fairness, considering what just transpired, I really don’t care to talk about your upcoming nuptials.”

He frowned. “You don’t?”

She shook her head. “We really shouldn’t have kissed again,” she muttered. What was wrong with her around this man? “And no, I do not.”

“Then I’ll just cut right through the chase.”

She studied his serious expression. What did that mean?

He smiled. “Emily, will you marry me?”

Chapter Eleven

A moment of thundering silence rained within the carriage.

With a raise of her brow, she asked, “I beg your pardon?”

“I asked if you would do me the honor of being my wife. I want you to be my marchioness, Emily.”

She was already shaking her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking. No, you’re just saying that because of what happened.”

Well, this was not how he had anticipated his proposal to be received. She could at least seem pleased.

“I assure you, madam,” he stated, aware his voice had chilled, “I have never done anything so utterly foolish as to propose marriage because of a kiss. Nor do I do anything I don’t want to do, and I always know exactly what it is I am about.”

Emily was silent for a moment. “You’re serious.”

Jason saw no need to respond.

Her eyes widened. “I-I… That is… I don’t know what to say, or how to react, let alone what to do.”

“Then let me help you. You say, ‘Why yes, Jason, I’d be delighted to marry you. After all, you did save my life.’ Some excitement wouldn’t be remiss, nor would a kiss.”

She shook her head. “Can you never be serious?”

“Oh, I am serious. I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire bloody life.”

“But you can’t want to marry me.” She shifted, confusion clear in her voice. “You really don’t know anything about me.”

“Be that as it may—”

“Jason,” she interrupted, “we hardly know each other.”

“We know each other quite well, madam. Are you saying you have no liking for me?” he asked.

“No, that is not what I’m saying. I admit, I do care for you, but I… I can’t… I don’t… The thing is…” She took a deep breath and rushed out, “I don’t exactly trust you.”

He didn’t like that little statement one bit. The muscle jumped in his cheek.

“Please, I meant no offense,” she murmured. “I cannot seem to trust anyone. It is nothing you did or didn’t do. It is me. It is all my fault. I appreciate your offer and part of me is very flattered by it. Perhaps if I were different… I wish I could accept it,” she whispered, her fingers fidgeting on her skirt. “But, well…no. I don’t think so.”

Jason took a deep breath, tried to get past the anger. Very calmly, he said. “I see.” He realized his voice was as sharp and clipped as the harsh wind on the North Sea. Shaking his head, he said, “Actually, no, I don’t. And though I realize it’s not exactly the gentlemanly thing to do, might I ask why?”

She sat in silence, staring out the window.

“Are you going to answer me? I think I deserve to know why the first woman I ever ask to marry me, refuses. Why won’t you marry me, Emily? Why won’t you be my marchioness?”

Before she could utter a word a new thought occurred to him.

“Is there someone else?”

He saw her eyes brighten and knew she was about to lie.

“Why, yes. That is exactly it, Jason. I’m so very sorry.”

“And who might the bastard be?” he bit out.

Her mouth opened and closed, her brows furrowing.

He slashed his hand through the air. “Emily, leave go, you can’t lie. There is no one else. So I do need a reason. A viable one.”

“Must you have a reason? Won’t my simple ‘no’ work?”

He grinned. “No.”

She smiled. “But why not? I need a viable reason why my refusal will not be accepted.”

Bloody everlasting hell. The minx would drive him to Bedlam. He would have said more, but the carriage pulled to a stop in front of an immense dark grey stone manor.

Her eyes crinkled on her smile before she looked out the window. “The rocks are so dark as to appear almost black.”

Jason huffed a breath out, raked his hand through his hair, and waved toward the mansion. “Thus the name. Blackstone Manor.”

“How original,” she said in all sincerity.

The door was opened before Jason could think of anything else to say. This was far from over. He was not about to give up on the best thing that had happened to him, aside from his daughter. Emily had responded too openly, too passionately to their kisses. This was another one of her damned mysteries. He was going to get to the bottom of every last, bloody damn one of them.

Alighting from the carriage first, he offered her his hand and said, “This discussion is far from over, Emily. In fact, when this mess with Caroline is over, you’re going to have dinner at
Ravenscrest
with me. That is one favor I ask of you for not answering all of my questions.”

One brow arched and her eyes narrowed. “Perhaps.”

“I’m determined, you know.”

“Never say so. I thought it was all such an act. Don’t disappoint me now.” She walked up the stairs in front of him.

Jason growled and admired the sway of her hips beneath the green muslin gown.

The thought hit him that perhaps she was afraid. If he kept hounding her, would she give in because she wanted to, or because she was used to someone being dominating? Someone forcing her to do things she’d rather not.

Bloody hell.

He didn’t want a wife out of fear. Or one that was scared of him. Or only accepted his proposal because of some mixed-up emotion.

So what the hell did he do?

Jason was given no time to contemplate the matter further. Douglas jerked the door open well before they had even reached the top step.

Douglas, like Rayne was tall. But where Rayne was muscled and dark of hair and countenance, Lord Winterbourne had the coloring of his mother with red hair—though darker than his mother’s and was more sinewy than muscled.

The smile on his brother-in-law’s face slid a sigh of relief through him.

Everything was fine.

“We have a son. A son!” Douglas hurried past Emily and hugged Jason, slapping him on the shoulder.

Jason pulled back and saw the tears in Douglas’ eyes, caught a whiff of fine French brandy. “A son! He’s so bloody perfect,
Jase
. You’ve got to see him.”

“Is Caroline all right?” he asked, following Douglas up the remainder of the steps, stopping to offer Emily his arm.

“What? Oh, yes. Scared the bloody hell out of me, I’ll tell you straight. But God…” He laughed. “He’s the most amazing thing,
Jase
. It’s most amazing, just amazing.”

Jason steered Emily into the house, nodded at the butler. “You were with her?” Jason asked, knowing a man’s place was generally not by his wife at such a time.

Douglas halted. “What? Good Lord, of course not. Not a man’s place and all that.” He shook his head and took the steps two at a time, yelling back over his shoulder, “You’ve got to come see him.”

Jason chuckled. “Well, he seems rather excited, doesn’t he?”

Emily’s smile faded and shadows slithered across her eyes. “Why wouldn’t he be? He has a son.”

He paused on their way up the staircase. “I dare say, he’d be just as excited with a daughter.”

“I doubt—” She stopped. “Perhaps.”

Without waiting for him, she continued up the stairs. Jason watched her go, wondering if her husband had been even more of a bastard than Jason already considered him.

He ran a finger under his cravat and followed Emily upstairs.

Moments later they were in the room where his sister was propped up against a mound of pillows. She looked tired and radiant all at the same time. Her damp black hair was pulled into a long braid, her face pale, her blue eyes exhausted but sparkling with some inner secret he would never know.

The new Master Edward lay swaddled in his mother’s arms.

Caroline smiled at him, her cheeks dimpling. “Isn’t he just beautiful,
Jase
?”

Jason nodded, reached out and fingered a dark tuft of silky down hair atop the baby’s head. “Yes, he is.” Smiling at Caroline, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. When he straightened, he looked over at Emily, who stood staring out the window.

He gave his mother a hug and a kiss.

“About time you arrived,” she said.

“Didn’t I tell you, Jason,” Douglas said, slapping him on the back. “He’s just amazing, isn’t he?”

Jason caught Emily’s grin and chuckled. “Yes, he is.”

His mother clapped her hands and said, “Enough. These two have had a very rough morning. Everyone out. Give them a few minutes to catch their breaths before the other grandparents arrive.”

Douglas frowned. “I didn’t think of that. Of course.”

As Jason stopped next to Emily, Caroline said from the bed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

Emily turned and looked at them. “You’ve a bit more important matters at present. I’m Mrs. Smith.”

“Oh, you’re Douglas’ niece, aren’t you, then? The one from America?”

Emily nodded.

“But I thought…” Douglas muttered something and looked from Emily back to Jason. “I thought she was with you.”

“She is.”

“No.”

They said at the same time.

Douglas frowned. Caroline smiled and passed Jason a knowing look.

He cleared his throat. “Emily accompanied me. The rest are following close behind.”

“My niece?” Caroline asked, then smiled. “This is confusing. Not you, Mrs. Smith, the other one. Joy. How odd you’re my niece through marriage and I dare say we’re of the same age.”

Jason hadn’t really thought of that. Instead he answered his sister. “Yes, Joy is on her way. She is riding with the
Warrings
and Aunt Elsie.”

Emily walked to the door. “You have a beautiful son. You should be very happy.”

Caroline smiled even bigger and looked from her son to her husband. “Oh, I am. I am.”

Jason watched as Emily looked down, and swallowed hard.

So much he didn’t know about her, but he wanted to. And he would.

* * * * *

Emily sat on the stone bench in the garden. The moon shone brightly, painting the shrubs and flowers, the fountain in a bath of silver. Blackstone Manor was less than a mile from the coast. The night, quiet as it was, whispered the surf on the air and the briny breeze tickled her nose.

She huffed out a breath and leaned back, looking up at the moon. She’d always loved the night, it called to her. Maybe it was the peace, the stillness, the darkness that cloaked things that were blatantly obvious during the daylight. In darkness she could hide.

From
?

Therein lay the question.

Before it had been the aches and pains, the bruises and broken spirit that the night sheltered.

But now?

Now, perhaps, it was the truth.

A truth that scared her.

Emily, will you marry me
?

She’d sworn to never again marry. Never to be at the mercy, at the complete control of another man. The thought itself knotted her stomach.

Or did it?

Jason was kind and sweet, well, perhaps not sweet. But he was an honorable man. A man who would never hurt her, one who genuinely cared for her, or seemed to.

I care for you
.

It was the fact she was considering his proposal at all that had her hiding.

What did that tell her?

And there was also the issue of children. Another thing she hid from.

“Solve all the problems, did you?” his voice floated over her in the night.

She didn’t even turn. Of course the man knew she was out here. Both the guards stood by the house. She looked over her shoulder where they had been and saw they were no longer there. He must have sent them away. “Who said I was trying to solve any problems?”

The man moved as silently as a shadow. One minute the night was beside her and then Jason appeared, wrapped in his greatcoat.

“Then what has you out here in the dead of night? Why aren’t you asleep?” he asked as he sat beside her, his arm outstretched along the top of the bench.

What indeed, or rather, whom? Not that she was about to confess that to him.

“You have a wonderful nephew, my lord.” She shifted, tried to put some space between them. If she moved any more, she’d fall off the bench, which would be rather obvious.

“My lord again, now, am I? Yes, my nephew is adorable, I suppose as all babies are. You said in the carriage today that you liked children? You seem to get along fine with Joy from the various times we’ve all met in the park.” His finger traced a lazy pattern on the back of her shoulder. “You’ve never mentioned your daughter. Mary? Isn’t that her name?”

She swallowed. Why was he asking this tonight? Emily swallowed past the hard sharp fist in her middle the mere mention of her daughter brought her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Her name was Mary.”

“What happened?” he asked gently.

The night did not shelter her in mercy this eve. “She died.”

He sighed and whispered, “How?”

I wasn’t able to save her
. “She fell and hit her head really hard and never woke up. A fever ran through the village that year and she either was stricken by that or the fever was linked to her fall. Either way, she’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.” He touched her hand, linking their fingers.

Tears blurred the light of the moon. “As am I.”

“How old was she?”

“Three.”

She heard his deep indrawn breath. “Again, I am sorry. I cannot imagine losing Joy, even if we’ve only known each other such a short time.” He cleared his throat. “There were no other children?”

He was relentless tonight, wasn’t he? Emily finally turned and looked at him. The moonlight should have softened his features, or so she thought for some reason. But instead, it cast them in harsh relief. His cheekbones stood out, his eyes only glittered when the moonlight caught them just so, the angle of his jaw seemed more pronounced and the straight, slightly crooked nose looked more arrogant than normal.

“No. There were no more children. I lost two others early on and one before Mary died.”

His arm stretched all the way behind her and pulled her to him. “I’m sorry,” he said against her hair.

Not knowing what else to do she shrugged. “Another reason you shouldn’t marry me. You’ll need a male heir and I seem to be a failure at producing those.”

He stilled. “Your husband was not a nice man.”

She did
not
want to talk about Theodore tonight.

Shrugging off Jason’s arm, she stood. “Why did you come out here?” she asked.