Captain Of Her Heart (29 page)

The dinner bell pealed.

For some unfathomable reason, Jason panicked.  He glanced left and then right and jumped on the bed.  Reconsidering his pose, he leaped from the mattress and sank into the overstuffed chair, which boasted a superb view of the gardens.  Plagued by uncharacteristic indecision, he charted a course for the end of the four-poster, but as he neared, he stubbed his toe on the footboard.  “
Bloody everlasting hell
.”

Hopping like a deuced rabbit, he grabbed his offended appendage and swore a slew of expletives that would have made his sire proud—just as Alex entered their suite.

“Jason, what happened?”  She tottered to stand before him.  “Are you all right?”

“I am fine, darling.”  In actuality, he was a damned lubberly nincompoop.  “And how are you, this evening?”

“A bit tired.”  She wrinkled her nose and stretched her back.  “Miss Phipps struggles with entries to the pantry account, and the ledger is a disaster, as I have yet to balance the numbers.  In the morning, I shall teach her to calculate the proper supply totals and—”

It was at that precise instant she noted the fantasy he had created just for her.  With mouth agape, her expression softened, and she rotated, inch-by-inch.

“Surprise, darling.”  In welcome, he splayed his arms wide.

“Oh, Jason.”  To his satisfaction, she waddled straight into his embrace.  “While I know you woo me with ulterior motives, I do so love being spoiled, and everything is beautiful.”

“I had hoped to please you.”  He kissed the crown of her head and smiled.  “May I have the honor of your estimable company for a private dinner, my cherished wife?”

“How could I decline such a gracious offer?”  Once again, she beamed with joy, as she met his stare, and he decided, right then and there, that he would court her for the rest of her life.  “Will you help me slip into something more comfortable?”

“Sweetheart, undressing you is a treat not to be missed.”  He growled.  “And I possess a particular talent for stripping you bare.”

“Yes, you do, and I rather enjoy your saucy brand of ravishment.”  She gave him her back, and he tugged the laces.  “Second only to your poetry, as your talent for oration is unrivaled.”

“Then I shall endeavor to compose an ode.”  He snickered.  “Is that why you pursued me, in London?”

“No.”  Grasping his shoulder for balance, she stepped from the garment.  “What drew me was your strength, which tempted me from that first waltz.  And the way you spoke to me gave me delicious shivers, as no one had ever approached me thus.  But there is something more that lured me, which I found impossible to resist.”

“And that would be—what?”  While conversation had not ranked high on Jason’s list of priorities, for an evening of seduction, her spontaneous confession fascinated him.

“Given I was raised in full view of society, and could never escape my connections, I have long desired something genuine amid the false smiles, excessively polite manners, and fancy gentleman’s garb.”  After doffing her chemise, Alex eased into one of his large robes, as it accommodated her belly.  “You gave me hope for something real, something true among the fabricated, polished facades of the
ton
.”

“You pay me a compliment I do not believe I deserve, love.”  And she shamed him, given his ultimate aim for the night.  “I would have thought my demeanor and associations too rough for the daughter of a duke.”

“Oh, no.”  She giggled, as he led her to the table.  “I fell in—that is to say, I adored you.”

The chamber grew silent as a tomb.

The mood had turned, and gone was the light-hearted ambience, as he held her chair.  Jason glanced at his seat, which had been positioned opposite his lady, and frowned.  He yanked the piece of furniture, situated it beside Alex, and then shuffled his place setting.

“That is better.”  He lifted the first cover from an oval dish and picked up a serving spoon.  “Are you hungry?”

“All three of us are starved.”  It troubled Jason that her ebullience had faded, and he vowed to restore her buoyancy.  “So you have never told me what you found attractive about me.”

“Aside from your voluptuous body in that memorable red dress, it was the fire in your eyes that captivated me.”  Downcast, Alex averted her gaze, and it was too late when he realized his mistake.  “But to leave you with the impression that it was your appearance, alone, that enchanted me would be a gross inaccuracy and an insult to your considerable qualities.”

“And that would be—what?”  She mocked him with his earlier challenge, as she fiddled with her napkin.

How he wished he possessed sufficient courage to profess his love, but he had only managed not to puke, during his afternoon practice.  But there were other ways to make his declaration.  He scooted back his chair and slapped his thighs.  “Come here.”

Frowning, she furrowed her brow.  “Jason—”

“Come here.”  Clutching her wrist, he lowered his chin and narrowed his stare.  “Now, Alex.”

“All right, but it is your fault if I faint, as I am famished.”  She sidestepped his legs and perched in his lap.

“Then allow me to rectify that problem.”  After stacking his plate atop hers, he uncovered the various entrees, picked up a fork, and speared a carrot, which he fed his bride.  Then he teased her with a healthy taste of turbot with lobster sauce, until she laughed.  Bite by bite, interspersed with flirty kisses, his haughty society maiden emerged from the dour comportment of the woman he had devastated in Plymouth.  In her good humor, he found pleasure unlike any he had ever known and something he never would have foreseen.

As he cared for his wife, Jason struggled with powerful possessiveness.  The urge to protect her and his children overwhelmed him and might have moved him to tears, had she not rewarded his efforts with an arresting smile.  In that instant, Alex’s happiness had become of paramount importance.

“Darling, what bewitched me, from the start, was your generous nature, which I did not fully understand, in London.”  He caressed her belly.  “It was in Plymouth, when you befriended Molly, a charwoman, and later, here, at Stratfield Manor, when you took Gertie and Arnold under your munificent tutelage, that the depth of your benevolent spirit struck me, and the contrast is quite startling.  Whereas then you concealed nothing from me, now you hide from me, and it is a rare and cherished moment that I glimpse
my
Alex.”

“Then why did you refuse to marry me?”  She cupped his cheek.  “I need to reconcile the past with the present, so I might move forward.”

Oh, his bold society miss had just made a spectacular return.

“I told you, back in Plymouth.  Never would I have made you a young widow.”  He trailed a finger along the curve of her jawline.  “But the truth is there are no justifiable reasons for my actions, darling.  I wronged you, and I shall go to my grave with that singular regret, as I ache for my Alex.”

“I know, and I am trying to find her.”  To his surprise, she pressed her lips to his.  “And I do so long to believe in you, again.”

“Do you?”  Hell, he would write her an anthology full of sappy poetry, if it helped him regain her good opinion.

“Yes,” she replied in a whisper.  “And I should apologize to you, as now we must both settle for less than what might have been.”

“
Settle
?”  Jason scoffed.  “How so?”

“You, because it is obvious I am not your choice, else you would have done the honorable by me.”  She rested her hand to his chest.  “And I because I yearned for so much more, yet I must accept what I have, when I might have had it all, had I been patient.”

Repudiations and rebuttals traipsed the tip of his tongue, yet he responded not.  For a long while, Jason simply held her, and Alex clung to him.  Tension hung in the air, thick as London fog, as they were two lost souls, each seeking to find their way back to a place they had gone, before.

“Are you partial to dessert, sweetheart?”  That was not what she needed to hear from him, but coward that he was he reached for a lifeline.  Jason uncovered the last untouched dish to reveal a bowl of luscious strawberries.  “As I recall, these are your favorite.”

“Indeed, you are correct.”  With a charming blush, Alex dipped her chin.  “And you do tempt me, sir.”

“Then let us adjourn to our bed.”  He waggled his brows.  “Where I shall feed you, with my own hands.”

“That sounds like the perfect ending to a wonderful meal.”  She eased from his lap, walked to the four-poster they shared, doffed her robe, and slid beneath the covers.  “Coming, darling?”

“Oh, I hope so.”  He swaggered to the edge of the mattress, untied both belts at his waist, dropped his clothes, and joined her amid the sheets.  Though he tried to resist the lure of her naked body, he marveled at the changes.  Boasting crimson nipples, her breasts were huge, and he burned to make love to them, as he once had in the little cottage.

Alex emitted a plaintive sob, clamped her eyes shut, and winced.  Then she exhaled and peered at him.  “The babes are restless.”

So was Jason.

Yet, in that instant, he envisioned his children, bobbing and weaving, as they attempted to dodge the fearsome Jolly Roger, and he blanched.  “Is it bad?”

“No worse than usual.”  Gritting her teeth, she hissed and hugged her most prominent protrusion.  It was then he noted the tiny belly button he had once filled with his seed had mutated into a webbed mass of jutting flesh, with tiny tracings of purple veins, just beneath the surface of her skin.  “May I touch you?”

“Of course.”  Alex gave vent to something between a sob and a sigh.

As Jason set his palm to the crest of her abdomen, a sharp movement startled him.  The proof of life, the result of their union, manifested a humbling experience, and no poetic phrase could express the magnitude of his joy.

Instead of enacting the seduction he had planned, he simply fed his wife strawberries, as they spoke of dreams for their future, and that of their children.  And for the first time since arriving at Stratfield, his Alex surfaced sans intimate activity, and he counted the occasion a most precious boon.  So he resolved not to make love to his bride—that night.

#

Alex wanted nothing more than to make love to her husband, given his tender care and thoughtful gesture, so she walked her fingers to his erection and was shocked to discover him not so erect.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.”  Grasping her wrist, Jason kissed her knuckles, and then settled her hand on her belly.  “You need rest, love.”

“But I am not so tired, as you might think.”  To her frustration, she tried but failed to stifle a yawn.

“Evidence to the contrary.”  As he set the bowl of strawberries on the bedside table, he chuckled.  “Snuggle close, sweetheart.  It is cool tonight, and I would not have you catch a chill.”

“But I am never cold when you are near.”  And now she was hungry—but not for food.  Oh, where was her naughty sea captain, when she needed him?  “Jason, I am not averse to pleasure, and we are married, as you always remind me.”

“Go to sleep, Alex.”  As was his way, he tucked the blankets to her chin and rubbed her scalp.

But she wanted her husband.

That was the last coherent thought she had that night.

#

Peeved was too tame a word for Alex’s disposition, as she had longed to make love to Jason, and her husband had put her to sleep.  To add insult to injury, he had breakfasted without her and departed for a ride, before she had shown a leg.

“
Ouch
.”  A speck of blood formed on her fingertip, where she had pricked herself with a needle, and she frowned at her embroidery, because her stitches were crooked and loose.  “What a deuced mess.”

“My lady, are you all right?”  Molly grinned.  “You seem a tad out of sorts, today.”

Well that was an understatement.  “I am fine, and thank you, for asking.  But I am quite well.”

“Then may I confide in you?”  The nanny bounced and tossed aside her silks.  “It is about Mr. Penniman, and I am dying to talk to someone.”

“Of course, you may rely on me.”  How Alex wished one of her friends were available, that she might impart her secrets.  As Molly worked for Jason, Alex could not share such personal information with a staff member.  “I am the personification of judiciousness.”

“Oh, Alex.”  The nursemaid peered over her shoulder and then leaned forward to whisper, “Tom has been so attentive, of late.”

“Indeed?”  Alex giggled, when Molly nodded with enthusiasm.  “And you may speak up, as the door is closed, so no one can hear you.”

“I hardly know where to begin, as there are so many developments to report.”  With a squeal of delight, the nanny clutched a fist to her bosom.  “Never had I dreamed any man, much less my Tom, could be so thoughtful—or inventive.”

“How wonderful for you.”  Alex pondered all the considerate expressions of affection, including the bawdy poetry, Jason had bestowed upon her.  “And I am the first to admit the male species is full of surprises, when they put their minds to it.  Judging by your countenance of unutterable elation, I presume you are pleased?”

“Thrilled is more like it.”  Molly hugged herself and gazed at the ceiling.  “Tom had roses delivered to my bedchamber, and you should have seen the blooms.  There must have been two dozen.  And he wrote me a poem.”

“Roses and poetry in your bedchamber?”  Alex rubbed her belly.  “How remarkable.”

“But that is not all.”  The nanny lifted her chin and grinned.  “My dear Mr. Penniman gifted me a box of fine Belgian chocolates—the same brand you have delivered from London, and we enjoyed them in the gazebo, by moonlight.”

“The very same?”  Nagging suspicion nipped at Alex’s heels, but she ignored the disconcerting sensation.  “How fortunate for you.”

“And dare I tell you of last week?”  Molly averted her stare, and she blushed.  “Never in my life had I imagined I would experience anything so grand.”

“What happened?”  Bile pooled in her throat, and Alex bit back the fast rising nausea.  “I await your news with baited breath.”

Hesitating, Molly bit her lip and twined her fingers.  At last, she leaned near and cupped her palm to Alex’s ear.  In a quiet tone
,
the nursemaid divulged her news.