Seven Years to Sin(69)
She looked at Alistair. After six weeks at sea, during which their relationship had sprouted and blossomed, they were finally faced with separation. This was the point where they parted ways, she to her residence and he to his.
He met her gaze; his own sharply focused as he waited.
Jess could see the question in his eyes—how would she react now that they were once again faced with the rules of Society?
Her reaction was fiercer than she could reasonably share. She wanted him beside her, always. In public and in private. Across their personal dining table for the morning meal and next to one another in a box at the theater. She wanted that, and she would have it if he agreed.
She spoke with feeling. “I know you must have a great deal to attend to, Mr. Caulfield, but would you be able to join us for supper? It would save you from making an appointment, Mr. Smythe, and having to report to me after the fact.”
Smythe blinked, clearly startled.
Alistair grinned at her first salvo in the battle for control of the plantation. He tilted his head in a regal acknowledgment. “It would be my pleasure, my lady.”
Raising her skirts, Jess climbed up the side of the hill. Her boots slipped occasionally in the rain-soaked soil, but Alistair was behind her and she knew he would grab hold of her if she fell. He was always catching her, always urging her to take great leaps with the security of knowing he waited with arms outstretched.
“There,” he said, drawing her attention to a gazebo set in a clearing to the left of where they ascended. The structure was immediately recognizable—it was a miniature replica of the one on the Pennington estate, with the addition of netting around the back and sides. In the center, a low dais supported a wealth of blankets and pillows.
She turned, facing Alistair as he joined her. From this vantage, they had impressive views of the sugarcane fields below and the ocean in the distance.
He drew abreast of her. “Have you seen the cane fields burning?”
“No.”
“We’ll remedy that when the time comes. I will take you to a vantage downwind of the smoke and stench. For all the danger and destruction, it is a sight not to be missed.”
“I can’t wait to see it with you.” She looked at him, admiring his proud profile. “I want to see everything with you.”
His returning look was fierce and heated.
She moved toward the gazebo. “This is what has been occupying you during the day?”
He’d started coming to her at night with small cuts on his hands and the occasional darkening of a faint bruise on his forearms. No matter how she tried to wheedle the cause out of him, he resisted—although he did encourage her to use every means at her disposal to convince him to be forthcoming …
“Do you like it?” he asked, studying her reaction.
“I’m flattered to have such effort expended to seduce me.” Her mouth curved on one side. “I also see that whenever my courses run, you burn with restless energy. I do believe you require sex more than food and water.”
“Only with you.” He moved under the roof and set down the basket he’d carried up with them. “And you know why. When I’m inside you I know you won’t be getting away. I know you don’t want to.”
She turned her back to the view and faced him, the most wonderful view of all. “What if you could claim the outside of me as well? With your name as my own and your ring on my finger. Would that calm you?”
Alistair grew painfully still. He did not even blink. “Beg your pardon?”
“Are you frightened now?” she asked softly.
“Afraid I’m dreaming.” He broke his stillness to move toward her.
“I’ve already told you I love you. Many, many times. Every day, actually.” She exhaled in a rush, fighting for courage. She couldn’t restrain her affection; it was too big to contain, swelling her chest and making it hard to catch her breath. “I love you enough to walk away if there is any possibility you might desire to be a father someday.”
His throat worked on a hard swallow. “There are a great many foundlings, if we want children to spoil.”
Her heartbeat quickened with hope.
He held out his hand. She placed hers within his and allowed him to lead her to the dais. He urged her to sit and she did. Then, he sank to one knee in front of her.
Understanding dawned. “Alistair.”
“You weren’t supposed to beat me to it, Jess,” he said with tender gruffness, reaching into the tiny pocket of his waistcoat. He wore no coat, no cravat. Scandalous and completely unacceptable, but who would see them up here? That had been the most difficult part of the past week—acting as if they were no more than acquaintances in public when they were searingly intimate in private.
It was the worst sort of torture watching the local debutantes, widows, and even some of the married women paying him elaborate, fawning attention. She’d had to suffer through watching those who claimed him as a dance partner or an escort into dining rooms. She had watched pretty young girls flirt with him, girls capable of giving him the family he’d never truly had and that she could never give him.
Alistair encouraged none of them, his gaze finding her in quiet moments and revealing his ferocious hunger. She tried not to seek him out, knowing her face would betray how smitten and besotted she was. How desperately in love she’d fallen. How bleak and lifeless her existence would be without him.