Tempting Torment (The McClellans Series, Book 3) Author's Cut Edition Page 8

  Noah swung his legs off the bench and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "I take it there were no relatives."

  "None. That's why I took the position as a paid companion. I was fortunate to get that. Not many people are willing to have someone like me under their roof. It makes them very uncomfortable."

  "I think it probably reminds them how tenuous their own fortunes and positions are."

  Jessa stuffed the handkerchief back in her sleeve and folded her hands on the tabletop. "Then you can understand how Robert's parents felt. Not only had my parents been foolish enough to lose everything and to make no provision for me, but I had actually been employed."

  "They must have made things uncomfortable for you."

  Jessa continued haltingly. "It was... difficult. Oh, Robert tried to ease the strain. We had our own wing at Grant Hall, but I never felt as if I truly belonged there. I thought they would be more accepting once they found out about the baby. If anything, things became worse. Lord and Lady Grantham had so many plans for my child—all of which excluded me. Robert told me not to worry, but even he got caught up in their planning."

  Noah found he was glad to hear it. He had been very much afraid that Robert Grantham had been a saint. Almost instantly he felt guilty for the path his thoughts were taking. He had no right to wonder what Jessa's feelings toward her husband were. Closing his eyes briefly he tried to picture his fiancée's face. The image was vague and elusive. When he looked at Jessa again his eyes were dark and brooding.

  Jessa wondered at the expression in Noah's eyes. She had no idea what had caused it to be there. "From the moment Gideon was born, Robert's parents hovered over him. I felt like a... a brood mare whose usefulness was over," she finished with startling frankness. Mary had suggested those words. "Then, when Gideon was only a few months old, Robert became ill. After Robert's death I was shut out of my son's life. If I visited the nursery I was accused of being overbearing. If I played with my son I was made to feel that he was becoming dependent on me. Nothing I did was the right thing."

  "So you decided to leave."

  She nodded. "Mary was the only one I could think of who would take me in and not give me away. Before she and Davey married they had both been employed by my parents."

  "So you were coming here the night of the robbery."

  "Yes. But not for the first time. I've lived here for a few months. Gideon and I were coming from Hemmings. I took him to a physician there. We weren't at the inn very long ourselves before you came in."

  Noah crossed his legs at the ankles and regarded Jessa considerately. "You have no need to worry that I'll speak to anyone of this. I can understand why you felt you must share this with me, else I may have given you away without meaning to, but surely there was no reason to be so apprehensive about it." He smiled engagingly. "Have I given you the impression that I am an ogre?"

  "Not at all," Jessa said truthfully, then she remembered the row with the innkeeper and amended her statement. "Well, you were rather fearsome at the inn."

  He laughed, forgetting his wound. His hand went immediately to his side and he pressed the bandage and poultice. "I'm hardly likely to behave that way to you," he said.

  "You don't know everything," Jessa told him, staring at her tightly folded hands.

  "Oh? And what more could there possibly be?" he asked cheerfully.

  His open face and kind eyes were nearly Jessa's undoing. She quailed at the thought of telling him the rest. Chewing on her lower lip, she continued. "The Granthams are searching for Gideon and me. If they find us, they'll take Gideon away and have me locked up."

  "But surely—"

  "No! You don't know how they are. They would have me committed to an asylum. I would never see my son again. And they can do it, Mr. McClellan. I know you think they can't. I can see it in your eyes, but you're wrong. They'll find a way. The duke and duchess are powerful and I have no means to fight them. Why do you think I left Grant Hall? They were talking about sending me away even then. I made plans to leave as soon as I discovered what they wanted to do." Jessa's fingers clenched and unclenched. "That's why I have to leave England, Mr. McClellan. Gideon and I aren't safe here. But there's not enough money for our passage. Mary and Davey have been so good to me but there's no money even to borrow from them. Mary told you that Davey's in London looking for work, but she didn't tell you why. He went there to earn money to help me."

  Noah held up his hands and cut Jessa off. His eyes were compassionate. He would have gone to her, put his hand on her shoulder, offered her comfort, but he didn't think he had the right. "Wait, Jessa. There's no need for you to worry about the money any longer. I'll gladly supply the funds you and Gideon require. Is that what this has all been in aid of? Have you been afraid to ask me for the money? I understand how hard it would be for you to do so, but it's a small enough request in the circumstances. You saved my life."

  She wished he would stop saying that It only made her feel worse. Agitated, Jessa stood and braced her arms on the table. She spoke crisply, wanting to finish with this at last. "I appreciate your offer, Mr. McClellan. I knew you had a generous spirit. What I didn't know was if you would live long enough to show it to me. That's why I couldn't take a chance. I needed your protection and I thought you were going to die." Jessa watched Noah become increasingly bewildered. His dark brows knit together. She took a deep breath and finished in a rush. "The vicar that you remember being here wasn't brought to the cottage to hear your dying confession. He came to marry us. He did marry us," she finished on a thread of sound. She sat down slowly and waited for the explosion. It was so long in coming that Jessa began to think he was going to make her repeat herself.

  Shards of gold and green glinted in Noah's eyes. He held Jessa immobile on the strength of his glance. "You're not spinning a Banbury tale, are you?" he asked coldly in the manner of a man who already knew the answer.

  "N-no."

  "That man actually married us?"

  "Yes."

  "Have you any idea what you've done?"

  "I told you, I thought you were dying. I wouldn't have done it otherwise." She raised her chin defiantly. "You don't think I wanted to marry you, do you? Well, do you?"

  Noah blinked hard. My God, this wisp of woman was trying to put him on the defensive. He could circle her waist with his hands and snap her in two. One part of his mind, the part that wasn't thinking clearly, he told himself, admired her spirit. "Madam, I don't care what you wanted or didn't want to do. The fact is you did it." He shook his head. "No," he muttered to himself. "No part of me is thinking clearly." Noah held her glance again. "I want proof. Do you have any?"

  Jessa nodded. "I have the license. And there is a record of it in the parish church."

  "Let me see the license," he said tiredly.

  Jessa scrambled off her chair and retrieved the paper from her Bible in the trunk. She was slightly breathless as she handed it to him. "I assure you it's legal."

  Noah merely grunted and Jessa backed across the room. "What sort of vicar would perform this ceremony?"

  "A very drunk one."

  Noah cursed, recalling the strong smell of spirits. He stared at the license. "This isn't my signature."

  "Well, I'm sure it doesn't look like your signature, but you signed it with your own hand."

  "With someone's help, I'll wager."

  "Yes, but the vicar witnessed it."

  "It doesn't matter. By your own admission he was three sheets to the wind, and I sure as hell didn't know what I was doing!"

  "But you said your vows. You did!" she insisted when his mouth curled to one side in absolute disbelief.

  If it were possible for a voice to smirk, Noah's did. "I vowed to stay by your side in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer?"

  "No, of course not. You were too ill to say all that."

  "Then, pray, what did I say?"

  "You said, 'I do.' We all heard you. Mary, Sarah, the vicar. Even Gideon heard you."
<
br />   "Gideon is hardly a reliable witness."

  Jessa slumped in her chair again. "I know. It was a stupid thing to say."

  "No matter. I'm rapidly revising my opinion of you. It fits neatly with this entire idiotic affair." He tossed the license on the window bench and missed the stricken look in Jessa's eyes. "Tell me, what were your intentions if I had died?"

  "I thought that was obvious. I was going to present myself at either Stanhope or Linfield as your widow. I would have told the people there that it was your last wish that I marry you, that you wanted me to go to America and this was your way of providing for me. I would have given some version of the truth to provide cause and produce the vicar if necessary. I'm certain I could have found someone to believe me."

  "Oh, I'm sure that would have been the least of your problems," he said with absolute conviction. "Someone would have put you and Gideon on the first packet to America."

  "That's what I would have hoped for."

  "My God! Your incredible gall is not to be believed!"

  "You asked me what I would have done and I told you." Her pale eyes frosted like a winter mist. "Why is it a point of argument?"

  Noah strove for calm. The ache in his side was nothing compared to the steady pounding in his head. "Then let us discuss what happens now that I'm alive. Surely that is a point of argument. You must have considered that I might recover."

  Jessa shook her head. "I didn't. Not really. I didn't want you to die," she added quickly, lest he misunderstand.

  Noah sighed. Supporting his head in his hands, he massaged his temples. It was a superior headache. "No, if you had wanted me to die you could have accomplished it easily enough."

  That eased Jessa's mind. At least he understood she hadn't tried to murder him. "It's not as if it has to be a real marriage, Mr. McClellan. It would—"

  "Don't you think that under the circumstances you could call me Noah?"

  "Noah then," she hastened to agree, not wanting to fight with him over something as inconsequential as a form of address. "As I was saying, it need only be a marriage of convenience."

  "It's decidedly inconvenient."

  "But there's no reason why it should be. I only need your protection as long as we're in England. We can have the marriage annulled in America."

  "We can have the marriage annulled here," he said tersely.

  "Oh, no! Please, you don't understand how difficult it would be. That sort of thing can never be dealt with quietly. The Granthams would learn of it."

  "I'm beginning to think you belong in an asylum," he said.

  Jessa gasped. "That was a terrible thing to say!"

  "I'm hardly of a mind to be pleasant," he ground out. "Do you think it will be so easy to obtain an annulment in America? How do I explain this to my family? Better yet, Mrs. McClellan," he said, drawing out each syllable. "How do I explain you to my fiancée?"

  Jessa's head snapped up. "Your fiancée? But you said on the coach... or rather you didn't say..." Her voice died as Noah's eyes narrowed.

  "I think I said too much on that coach. Or not enough. Were you eyeing me even then as prospective material for your marriage?"

  "Of course not! Such a thing never entered my mind!"

  But something like it had crossed Noah's, and he didn't like himself for it. Or for remembering it now. If he were honest with himself he knew that some of the anger he directed at Jessa was meant to atone for his own wandering thoughts. "So what do I tell Hilary?" he asked harshly.

  Jessa's head bowed. She had never thought of a fiancée. Why hadn't he said something? It seemed he had talked of every other thing. "I don't know," she said miserably. "I wouldn't have done this thing if I had known about her."

  "Your scruples are of little comfort now."

  "I'm sorry."

  "And your apology even less so."

  "I don't know what else to say."

  Noah leaned back against the window and stared down the length of his body to his stockinged toes. "Amazingly enough, neither do I."

  They both raised their eyes in the same moment and stared at one another for a long time. Jessa looked away first.

  Noah stood. He rocked slightly on the balls of his feet. "I am going to retire for the evening. If you have need of anything in the other room, I suggest you get it now. Frankly, I'd rather not see you again tonight. I'm still debating whether or not I should turn you over my knee."

  "You wouldn't!"

  Noah walked to the table and placed his hands on Jessa's upper arms. Without the slightest effort he drew her to her feet. Sitting or standing, he still towered over her. He patiently waited until she raised her eyes to his. When she did, he spoke with soft, gritty intent. "If you have even the slightest bit of gray matter resting between your ears, you will not speak so foolishly or provokingly in the future. As you have pointed out, I am your husband. I can do anything I want with you... or to you. Anything."

  Jessa stumbled backward as he released her and turned on his heel. The shudder that went through her was matched by the shudder of the door as Noah slammed it closed between them.

  Well, she thought dazedly, I'm still alive. Jessa hugged herself, briskly rubbing her arms to rid the sudden chill that swept her. She should have been terrified of him, yet she realized she wasn't. Awed, certainly, but not frightened. Noah McClellan could be vastly intimidating, but Jessa doubted he was violent. She could not believe he would intentionally set out to harm her or assert any of his husbandly rights. Still, she reflected, it was easier to believe that once he was gone from the room. When he stood above her, pinning her with his sharp and angry eyes it seemed he was capable of anything.

  Jessa decided that neither reflection nor idleness were helpful in her present situation. She became a veritable whirlwind of activity in order to put her conversation with Noah completely out of her mind. She washed dishes, dusted, swept the floor, drew fresh water for the animals stabled behind the cottage, and finished what was left of Mary's mending.

  A gust of wind circled the room as Mary and Gideon entered the cottage. Mary stamped her muddy clogs in the doorway and gave Gideon to Jessa who had rushed up to meet them. "What 'appened?" Mary asked in a husky whisper, hanging her cloak by the door. "Where's Noah?"

  Jessa pointed to the other room. "He's resting." She unwrapped Gideon, took him to the hearth, and rubbed his small chubby body to keep him warm. Gideon laughed delightedly. Jessa kissed his forehead.

  "Restin', is it?" Mary said skeptically. "More like 'e's sulkin'."

  Jessa turned sharply from the fireplace. "And if he is, can you really blame him? Try to imagine how he must feel, Mary!" She walked briskly to the window bench, snapped open Gideon's thick blanket and laid the blanket and the baby on the floor. "Noah didn't choose me for a wife, nor Gideon for a son! You can hardly expect him to rejoice!"

  Mary's brown eyes widened. "My, my, my," she said softly, taken aback by Jessa's fierceness. "I take it some 'eated words were exchanged 'ere. Funny," she mused, "I thought 'e would take to it better."

  "Well, he didn't," Jessa said stiffly. "He was as outraged as he had every right to be. He has a fiancée, Mary! Do you have any idea how I felt when he told me that? If the cottage had collapsed on my head I would have been grateful."

  Mary's fiery eyebrows drew together in consternation."'E's betrothed? Oh, dear. That's not very good, is it?" She put a kettle on for tea and set two mugs on the table. "It would 'ave been nice if we 'ad known that tidbit. What's he goin' to say to 'er?"

  "I have no idea and neither does he."

  "Did ye tell 'im the 'ole thing was my idea?" Mary's furtive glance at the closed door was rife with trepidation.

  Jessa let her friend squirm for a moment. "No. I was tempted, but what did it matter? I went along with you. If I hadn't agreed, we wouldn't be discussing this now." She knelt on the edge of Gideon's blanket and pulled the wandering infant back onto it. Jessa lifted the window seat and found two blocks Davey had made for his own son. Pulling th
em out, she dropped them in front of Gideon. He clutched one, brought it to his mouth, then threw it at Jessa. She laughed and tossed it back. Gideon rolled on his side as his arms flung wide to catch the block.

  There were tears in Mary's eyes as she watched the play between Jessa and Gideon. She keenly felt the loss of her own child in that moment.

  "Mary! Mary, what's wrong?"

  Mary blinked back tears and gave Jessa a watery smile. "Just missing my boy," she said.

  Jessa jumped to her feet and put her arms around Mary. She held her friend close, offering no words of comfort because she had none to offer. It was Mary who broke the embrace, stepping back and drying her eyes with the heel of her hand.

  "Don't mind me," she said apologetically. "I've been weepy lately."

  If she had been, Jessa thought, she had been successful in hiding it. A suspicion formed in Jessa's mind. "Mary? Are you pregnant?"

  "I—I think so." She saw Jessa's stern look. "Yes, I'm pregnant."

  "But that's wonderful! Why didn't you say anything?"

  "I didn't want ye to worry for me. And I know ye would. It's in yer nature. Ye 'ave enough to think about."

  "Oh, Mary," Jessa said sadly. "You worry too much about me. I'll muddle through somehow. I always do. Does Davey know?"

  "No."

  "But why haven't you told... Never mind. I know why. He wouldn't have gone if you had told him."

  Mary poured boiling water into the teapot. "Aye, 'e wouldn't 'ave gone with 'is brothers and stopped the coach if 'e 'ad known. But what of it? We needed the money."