Tempting Torment Page 10

  "Well, ye can see that he ain't." He tipped his hat to Noah. "Good afternoon, Noah. How's our time?"

  "You've done very well indeed, Drew. We should make it to the ship with thirty or more minutes to spare. Where are Mary and Davey?"

  "Davey wasn't there when I arrived. Mary made the decision to stay."

  This was all news to Jessa. She didn't know Mary had been asked to go. As if sensing her confusion, Drew turned to her. "I gave her Noah's invitation when we loaded your trunk. She said you'd understand that she belonged right where she was."

  Jessa nodded faintly. "Yes, I understand."

  "All right, Drew," said Noah. "I only wanted them to have a choice." The smile he had for his driver vanished the moment he turned his eyes on Jessa. His narrow stare took in her bonnet, the drab traveling cloak, and the mourning gown. Neither did he miss the pale gray eyes, the bone china face that was tautly composed, or the willow-thin figure that was perilously close to being gaunt. He jumped in the carriage, dropped the large wicker basket on the floor, and seated himself opposite Jessa, his back to Drew. "You can go," he told the driver. His eyes never wavered from Jessa as the carriage rolled forward smoothly. When he spoke his voice was grim and his chin jutted belligerently. "Did you wear that to spite me?"

  "What?" she asked, bewildered.

  "That bonnet. That dress. Your damn widow's weeds, for God's sake! If you wanted to start this arrangement off on the right foot you've made a bad beginning."

  "Mr. McClellan, I—"

  "Noah," he fairly growled.

  Jessa sat back sharply under his cold glare. "Noah," she began again in what she hoped was a reasonable tone, "I was scarce given time to think let alone consider what I might wear. I assure you I didn't choose these clothes purposely to offend you. I was wearing this dress when Mr. Goodfellow announced himself at the door."

  Far from being placated, Noah's scowl became even deeper. "Once we're on the ship you'll get rid of it. It's not the sort of thing a bride wears."

  Jessa acquiesced softly. "You should know, however, I haven't many gowns at my disposal. I don't think the others will please you overmuch."

  "Anything's better than what you're wearing now." He leaned forward. "Let me have that bonnet."

  "But it's the only one I have."

  "It's an abomination. Take it off."

  "You could try saying please," she said coolly. When he continued to glare at her darkly she relented. "Very well. But if I had known you could be so boorish, I wouldn't have..."

  "Wouldn't have what?" Noah laughed humorlessly. "Wouldn't have married me? Madam, you don't know how often I've wished I had shown you this side of me earlier!"

  Seething, Jessa yanked at the ribbons of her bonnet and slapped it down on his lap. "There! Give it to the horse for all I care!"

  "The horse wouldn't have it," Noah said sharply. He tossed the bonnet over the side of the carriage and it disappeared beyond a hedgerow.

  Jessa watched it go out of the comer of her eye. "My face will burn," she ventured quietly.

  "Your face is too pale." Noah leaned back against the seat and stretched his legs. They nudged the basket. He took off his cocked hat and laid it beside him, raising his face to the sun as Jessa had done earlier. He closed his eyes.

  Jessa fumed. He was behaving like a beast! An absolute beast! He hadn't addressed a kind word in her direction. Jessa turned her head to one side and rested her cheek against the downy cap of Gideon's dark hair. She adjusted his blanket so it covered more of his head. Why hadn't she thought to put on his bonnet? Because she had been rushed, she remembered angrily. Herded as if she were livestock. And Mary! How could Mary encourage her to go to this terrible man? And then let her go alone!

  Jessa glanced down at her gown. Had he really thought she wore it to spite him? Of course he did. He thought she was rubbing his nose in the circumstances of their marriage. He thought she was still in love with her dead husband! Jessa had an urge to laugh, but the tangle of lies she had told bound her tongue and silenced her voice.

  Why should it matter to Noah if she was in love with the fictional Robert Grantham? Noah didn't love her, nor she him. He knew that love had nothing to do with the reason she married him. It certainly had nothing to do with Noah's decision to have her with him now.

  Jessa stole a glance at her husband, the only husband she ever had or was likely to have. His eyes were still closed. His beautiful lashes fanned spiky shadows against his high cheekbones. His jaw was relaxed, his finely shaped lips slightly parted. He didn't have to worry about the sun burning his face, she thought, a shade enviously. Noah's complexion had a natural bronze cast to it. It went beyond his face, she remembered. His chest. His arms. The hollow of his buttocks. Stop it, Jessa! Stop it! She knew if Noah opened his eyes just then he would see her face was a veritable riot of color. Jessa gritted her teeth and stared at Drew's back. Not only were her thoughts wicked, they were unwise. There was no place in this marriage for attraction, even if it were solely one sided.

  Jessa touched the back of her head and pulled her braid forward. Gideon's sticky fingers and wet mouth had made a mess of it. She wished she had taken the time to repair it. She hadn't considered that Noah might want her to look like a bride. She hadn't known his pride would be stung by her less than fastidious appearance. Jessa sighed, tossing the braid back. There was nothing she could do about it now, but she promised herself that she would take more care in the future. Noah was concerned about the way they looked to others, and Jessa told herself she should be happy that he wanted to keep up appearances. She hoped it meant that in the company of others he would treat her with a modicum of civility.

  "What are you thinking, Jessa?" Without having seemed to, Noah had been watching Jessa carefully. He regretted the harsh words he had spoken to her even as they were pouring from his mouth. Still, he was too stubborn to change course in midstream. It seemed proper that he establish his authority at the outset. If Jessa suspected how easily he could be manipulated Noah doubted he would have any peace. He had already given her more than enough proof. She was with him now, wasn't she?

  Not only was Jessa startled that Noah spoke to her, she was surprised he'd done so in a tone that gave no hint of his previous anger or sarcasm. He sounded as if he were genuinely interested. Jessa glanced away shyly. There were some of her thoughts to which he would never be privy. "I was wondering why you asked me to come with you. When you left the cottage that night I thought never to see you again."

  Noah grunted softly. His voice was cool. "I changed my mind."

  That much was obvious. But why had he changed it? Jessa was too uncertain of his temperament to pursue it. "It was kind of you to ask Mary and Davey to join us," she ventured softly.

  He shrugged carelessly.

  "Well... I just want you to know... if you should think better of your decision to take Gideon and me with you, I'll understand. I mean, there's still time for you to change your mind again."

  "Before we get to the ship, you mean?"

  "Yes."

  Noah sat up and stared hard at Jessa. "Madam, if I choose to change my mind in the middle of the Atlantic it won't be too late. I can rid myself of you there as easily as I can in London."

  "Oh!" Jessa's mouth opened in astonishment. "But where... that is, what would I do?"

  "Swim," he said succinctly. He ignored the wash of tears that glistened in her eyes and instead reached for the basket on the floor between them. Noah helped himself to a chicken leg and offered Jessa one also.

  She shook her head, blinking back tears. I will not cry in front of this odious man, she told herself. I will not! "I'm not hungry," she said when he put back the leg intended for her and dangled an apple by its stem.

  Noah palmed the apple and dropped it back in the basket. "Very well," he said, raising the chicken leg to his mouth. "But you really should eat. You look as if a strong wind could carry you away."

  "Then I'm surprised you haven't ordered one to do so," s
he said sweetly.

  Noah chuckled and bit into his food with particular relish. Secretly he applauded her show of spirit. It would be a singularly dull voyage if she never gave as good as she got.

  Jessa admitted that she simply did not understand him. One moment he was delivering a sharp set down, in the next he was giving the appearance of enjoying her company enormously. It would be a singularly uneasy voyage if she never figured him out.

  Noah watched the play of emotions across Jessa's face: bewilderment, confusion, uncertainty. They were there, clearly displayed in the lift of her dark brows, the gentle pursing of her finely cut mouth, the darkening of her large gray eyes. Noah's eyes slid over her clear and delicate profile as she turned her head aside. Tendrils of corn silk hair brushed coyly past her ear. He would have liked to curl one around his finger just to test its softness. He had never tried to deny that he found Jessa an astonishingly lovely woman. Even if she appeared to be unaware and unaffected, Noah was not. He would have been a fool not to take measure of the attraction he felt toward her. Noah knew he was vulnerable, but there was a certain strength in knowing one's own weaknesses. He would have to deal with Jessa from a position of strength. He could accept nothing less.

  Gideon woke just as they reached the outskirts of London. He was cranky, wet and hungry. Noah had Drew stop along the road while Jessa changed Gideon's diaper. Jessa silently thanked Mary for her foresight in laying Gideon's things on top so she didn't have to burrow through the trunk to get what she needed. She was apologetic about her son's crying, but Noah brushed her concerns aside. When Drew whipped the horse forward again Noah took Gideon onto his own lap.

  "Your arms must be tired," he said.

  They were, but she didn't think he would have cared. Gideon was only partially satisfied by his dry condition. He didn't need words to let everyone know he was hungry. Noah burrowed one hand in the basket and brought out a silver flask. He slid off the cap with his thumb while he bobbled Gideon on his knees.

  "Oh, no!" Jessa cried out, alarmed as Noah tilted the flask to Gideon's rosebud mouth. "He can't drink spirits!" Gideon grasped the flask awkwardly in his dimpled fingers as Noah urged it toward his mouth. A droplet of milk splattered on Gideon's chin. "Oh," she said again, much relieved.

  "Indeed," Noah said dryly.

  "You could have told me what was in there."

  "What? And deprive myself of the opportunity to see you take up cudgels for your son?" In his arms Gideon sipped contentedly from the flask which Noah kept tilted at low angle. "I didn't think you'd want to nurse him on the open road so I came prepared." His eyes dropped casually to her breasts.

  Jessa drew her cloak closed. "I never nursed Gideon."

  Noah's lip curled. "Why not?"

  Jessa realized he thought her reasons for not nursing Gideon were rooted in vanity. "Because Lady Grantham would not allow me," she invented. "She said it was common. Gideon had a wet nurse."

  "I see. But you left Grant Hall when Gideon was quite young. How could you—"

  Jessa felt heat creeping into her cheeks. "I couldn't feed him myself by then, if that's what you mean." Really, this conversation was beyond everything decent. "Mary nursed him. Her own baby died shortly after I arrived at the cottage."

  "I'm sorry," he said solemnly. "It must have been very hard for both of you."

  "Yes, it was. "Jessa's fingers fidgeted in her lap. "Mary was weaning Gideon."

  Noah nodded. "Well, since Mary isn't with us I suspect Gideon has had his last suckle," he said practically. "He does very well from the flask. Ooops! I spoke too soon." He wiped Gideon's chin with the handkerchief Jessa quickly thrust in his direction. "I think you've had enough. Better now?" He capped the flask, dropped it in the basket, and raised Gideon on his shoulder to burp him.

  Jessa simply stared at him, dumbfounded.

  Noah grinned at her expression. "I told you, one cannot have a dozen nieces and nephews without learning something of import from it. As to the problem of his milk supply, which I think you were trying to get around to delicately, it's already been handled. The Clarion is carrying some livestock in addition to her regular cargo."

  "That must have cost you dearly."

  "Are you trying to discover if I'm wealthy? Well, I'm not. Certainly not by your late husband's standards."

  "I didn't mean—"

  "My family owns the Clarion," he said tersely. "She's made several trips between Virginia and London since I've been here. Once I concluded my business at Stanhope I had only to wait for her return." Gideon belched loudly and Noah set the child on his lap. "So you see, the only price I've paid for your passage is my freedom. And, yes, that has cost me dearly."

  Jessa gritted her teeth in silence. There was simply no talking to the man! She heaped a dozen curses upon his head and plotted his death by fire, flood, and pestilence. All of which were a quicker end than he deserved.

  Seemingly oblivious to her plans for his demise, Noah was taking great delight in pointing out the sights to Gideon. Drew had had to slow the carriage as the traffic on the London streets became clogged with horses, wagons, curricles, and vendors. People shouted, selling their wares. Somewhere a driver yelled for a passerby to get out of his way. A gang of poorly clothed urchins chased one another down the street, laughing shrilly and dodging traffic with heart-stopping agility. Fashionably dressed matrons with their giddy daughters in tow glided in and out of shops in search of tasteful gowns, jaunty hats, and colorful ribbons and feathers. Men gathered outside a coffee shop to continue an argument that had not been settled inside. A dowager berated her servant for stepping on the hem of her gown. Above the din a church bell tolled the hour.

  Gideon was less fascinated by what was going on around him than he was by Noah's face and his rich baritone voice. His wide blue eyes rarely wavered from Noah's.

  Drew Goodfellow was the first to see the closed carriage bearing down on them. He cursed loudly seeing the other driver did not have control of the matched set of bays. People were scattering, pressing themselves against buildings to avoid being crushed by the dangerously swift carriage. Drew tightened the reins on his animal and urged the mare over to make room for the other vehicle. He thought he had avoided a collision when the matched team veered suddenly and came perilously close to brushing his carriage. The other vehicle tipped and rode several feet on two wheels. Before it righted, its rear wheel caught the edge of Drew's carriage.

  Although they were all jostled, Jessa felt most of the impact. She screamed as she was thrown sideways, narrowly missing being pitched from the carriage altogether. She felt Noah's arm circle her waist and then she was being pulled roughly onto the seat beside him. The grip she had on his jacket was bloodless. She buried her face in his shoulder.

  "Are you all right?" he asked tightly. "Jessa? Are you hurt?"

  She shook her head but didn't lift it. People were beginning to gather round the carriage. She didn't want to look at them.

  "We're all of one piece, Drew," he told his man. "No, stay where you are. I'll have words with the other driver myself. You disperse the crowd." Noah extricated himself from Jessa's hold and gave her Gideon. The baby was squalling loudly, but other than being frightened, he was fine.

  Jessa huddled in one corner of the carriage and hugged Gideon to her breast as Noah jumped out. She watched him stride purposefully toward the other vehicle, which had finally halted its reckless course some seventy-five feet down the street. The driver had bounded down from his perch and was opening the door to his passengers. "Oh, no! No!" Jessa shook her head in disbelief as her eyes fastened on the carriage's crest. It was the Penberthy carriage! "Noah!" she called urgently. "Noah, please come back here!"

  Noah stopped and turned. "Drew will help you," he called back.

  "Noah! Please. I need you! Now!"

  Caught by the very real fear in her voice, Noah broke off in a run toward her. The crowd, which Drew had not been successful in moving, parted swiftly as Noah returned. "What is it?
" he demanded roughly, taking in her china-white face and trembling lips.

  "Please," she whispered. "I want to leave." She glanced over his shoulder as Lady Barbara Penberthy alighted from the carriage. Edward was directly behind her. Jessa took Noah's hand, squeezed it, and raised her eyes beseechingly. "We must go! That carriage—"

  She didn't have to say anything more. Noah reacted swiftly. Jessa's safety was his responsibility now. He tapped Drew on the back and sat down beside Jessa. One arm circled her protectively. "Drew! We're off!"

  "Aye!" came the reply. He raised his whip and people moved aside. The carriage rocked and shot ahead.

  "Hurry!" Jessa said. Her eyes were tightly squeezed shut now. "Oh, please huny!"

  Noah spared a glance for the man and woman standing beside their broken carriage. They were both staring open-mouthed in Jessa's direction. The man started to run toward them, but something his wife must have said halted him in his tracks. He thrust his hands into the deep pockets of his jacket, shoulders slumping, and turned around.

  Jessa did not open her eyes until the carriage rounded a corner. "Did they see me?" she asked.

  "I'm afraid so," Noah said. "Was it the Granthams?"

  "What?" Jessa could not think clearly. She almost forgot all the lies she had told.

  "Were they your late husband's parents?"

  "Oh. No. No, they are friends of the Granthams. Lord and Lady Penberthy." Why had she told him that? She could have given any names at all and he wouldn't have known the difference. What if he had heard or read about Adam Penberthy's abduction? Would he begin to suspect the truth? She shuddered violently, suddenly cold. Gideon whimpered softly in her arms. "Do you think they will follow?"