Again (6 page)

“’Tis a pleasure to see you again, Lady Catherine.”
 
His voice, low and husky, slid over her like a lover’s caress.

Sara made a sound of impatience, stomping her foot on the ground.

Dragging his gaze from Catherine, he turned to Sara.
 
“My apologies for my rudeness.
 
Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“I am Lady Sara.”
 
She thrust her shoulders back to display her still-developing bosom. “Would you take me aboard your ship?” she added with a pouting lip and a batting of her eyelashes.

Catherine groaned and closed her eyes.

Sara’s response was quick.
 
“What of it, Catherine?
 
I am not afraid.
 
Unlike you, mayhap?”

Catherine’s mouth opened to reply, but shut it promptly for words would not come.  Sara’s insolence knew no bounds.

Jonathan watched the exchange between the two, clearly amused.
 
Laughing, he turned to Sara.
 
“You are a bold one, Sara.
 
I daresay your father would have my head if I succumbed to your desires.
 
I am sure there are other younger squires that challenge one another for your affections?”

Sara sighed.
 
“Yes. Of course there are many.”
 
She waved her hand to dismiss the notion.
 
“But they are merely boys.”

Jonathan laughed.
 
“Come, ladies. I have something for you.”

Casting a warning glance over her shoulder to Sara, of which Sara returned with a shrug, Catherine allowed Jonathan to lead them to several boxes set aside from the rest.

“Ah, here it is.”
 
He picked up a doll, exquisitely dressed in velvet, its face painted with a solemn smile.
 
“For you, Lady Sara.
 
‘Tis what all the young noble ladies have.
”

Wide-eyed and disbelieving, Sara gasped, “’Tis beautiful!”
 
Her fingers ran gently over its painted face.
 
“Thank you!”
 
She threw her arms around Jonathan so enthusiastically he stumbled backwards.
 

His laughter filled the air as he carefully pulled Sara’s arms from around his neck, holding her away from his body.

Catherine was relieved to see the youth once again return to Sara’s face. This was the sister that Catherine longed to see, not the impetuous, stubborn, young woman she was becoming.
 

Sara moved away and sat upon a crate with the doll cradled in her lap.
 
She looked every bit a little girl, enraptured with her unexpected gift.

“As for you, milady,” Jonathan said, “I thought of you when I unpacked this today.”
 
He retrieved a red velvet pouch from another crate and, untying the gold cord, he drew out a hair circlet
, a string of pearls interspersed with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds.

Jonathan gently took her hand and turned her palm upward, draping the circlet across it.
 
Though heavily laden with jewels, its weight was feather-light.  The sunlight pooled in the depths of the stones, swirling and flowing, begging for her attention,
but Catherine saw only her hand in his and felt only the intense heat that inflamed her skin where they touched.

“My gift to you,” he said quietly.

She knew she should lift her hand.
 
Her mind screamed for her to do so, but the circlet seemed to weigh heavily upon it.
 

“Nay, I cannot accept it.”
 
Her voice was a whisper.  She was walking on dangerous ground now.
 
She knew she should turn away before she lost herself completely.

“It would be an honor if you would, milady,” said Jonathan.
 
His smile faded. “I can think of no other woman who could wear it as elegantly as you.”

Catherine blushed, her resolve broken.
 
“I cannot possibly…”

Jonathan gently placed his finger to her lips, silencing her. “Yes, you can.
 
Allow me this.”

That simple gesture, and the warmth of his touch, left her without the desire to refuse.
 
The heat lingered even after he pulled away.

So many men have tried to seduce her for their own gains and for her wealth. Their words were woven with flattery, promises, and shallow complements.
 
She searched Jonathan’s face for such falseness, but she saw none. She found nothing more than kindness and affection in the endless depths of his eyes.

“Then how can I not accept?” she said.
 
The words were scarcely audible to her ears, but he heard.

His face broke into a smile and the air that surrounded him sparked to life, crackling in the morning light.
 
Such enthusiasm was contagious and Catherine laughed, unleashing the tension in her body.

“Master Jonathan!”
 
The shout came from the ship.  A young man stood on the deck and beckoned him to follow.

Jonathan looked back at the ship and then to her, reluctant to leave her side, but then conceded. “I shall be but a moment.”

With another bright smile, and a light touch to her arm, he turned and ran towards the ship.

Catherine watched his retreating back before turning to where her sister sat, smoothing the doll’s dress.

“Master Jonathan is a kind man,” Catherine said thoughtfully.

Sara set aside the doll and took the circlet from Catherine, turning it over in her hands
.

“Yes, he is.”
 
She paused, looking up at Catherine, her eyebrows raised ever so slightly, the youthfulness now gone from her face.
 
“I wonder what Galen will say of the merchant’s generosity.”

Catherine stiffened at the mention of Galen.  “’Tis merely a gift, Sara,” she said in defense.  “I have received gifts before.
 
Galen takes no notice.”

“You speak the truth, yes,” Sara said, “but I daresay Galen would not approve of this gift, coming from him.”
 
She inclined her head in the direction of the ship.

“Galen has naught to worry about.”
 
Catherine was quick to respond.
 
“A gift is but a gift.”
 
She placed her hand out to reclaim the circlet
and to place it safely back in its pouch.
 
Sara gave it back, her face sullen.

The number of villagers walking about grew as the sun rose higher.

Looking around at the gathering crowds, Sara sighed. “He truly is utterly handsome.
 
I fear, though, that I am but a child to him.”
 
Sara reached for the doll and ran her fingers across the smooth face.
 
“Once again, Catherine, you have won.”

“What do you mean?”  Catherine felt her ire rising once again.
 
“What have I won?”

“’Tis nothing.”  Sara dismissed Catherine’s question with a wave of her hand.  “Just once I would capture the affections of a man and not a boy!
 
Master Jonathan would be that man had I been alone.”

“Sara, you
are
but a child and he
is
a grown man.”

Sara raised her hand to silence her. “Say nothing, Catherine, but one day I shall rival even you.”
 
She stood and faced Catherine. “I am ready to leave.
 
I shall await you at the horses.”

Catherine watched as her sister walked away.
 
Defeat seemed to weigh heavily on Sara’s thin shoulders. What is this that she speaks of?
 
Catherine wondered.
 
Her sister harbors jealousy?

“You must leave now as well?”

Catherine did not notice that Jonathan had appeared at her side.  She chanced a glance at the merchant whose mere presence addled her wits.  A head taller than Catherine, he stood with his hands on his hips, looking at her expectantly.
 
Aye, but he made it difficult for her to even think!  His manner tore down all of her defenses, leaving her to feel vulnerable.  She was drawn to this man in a way she could not explain.
 
What a fool she was for believing she could withstand the sweet torment to her senses while she stood beside him.
 
His closeness sent a heady rush through her body, a longing that confused her.
 
She needed to leave, to put distance between them sooner than later.

She straightened in resolve. “Aye, I have much to do.
 
Guests of my father will be arriving before too long.”

“Might I escort you back to the castle?”

She shook her head.
 
“That will not be necessary.”
 
As much as she would like to accept, she could never allow it.
 
He did not seem to understand what havoc his offer would create if she accepted, however innocent it would be.

She paused, placing her hand atop the velvet pouch as if to ensure her gift was still there.
 
“I thank you for your generosity, to both my sister and me.”

Jonathan put his hand over his heart and inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Though the need to be away from him was strong, her feet seemed rooted to the ground, and her eyes locked with his.  A boldness she did not know that she possessed raged through her.
 
“When do you set sail?”

His eyes, still glittering, shadowed ever so slightly.
 
“In two days’ time.”

Catherine nodded her head and managed a smile.
 
It is for the best, she knew, for there was no place in her life for him, though her body seemed to feel otherwise.
 
His nearness and his smile made her feel so alive.  With her lips pressed tightly together, she lowered her gaze.
 
She had to turn away.
 
This man was making her feel everything she had searched for, but being who he was, a man of the sea and not of noble blood, made it impossible for her to succumb to her desires.
 

It took every ounce of strength for her to walk away.

Chapter 5

Leaning closer to the mirror, Eryn blotted her lips, using her little finger to smooth around the edges.
 
One last run-through with the hairbrush and she was done.
 
She padded to the bedroom in her stocking feet and scrutinized herself in the mirror.
 
For the party tonight she had chosen a simple black cocktail dress, with a lace-edged bodice, that lay smooth over her flat stomach and slender hips, and instead of pinning her hair up in a twisted knot as she usually did, Eryn decided to leave it loose to fall across her shoulders and spill down her back.
 
She put on her black strappy heels and, turning sideways one way and then the other, decided the effect was just right.

“Good to go, Eryn?
 
It’s almost…”  Bryce had thrown open the door and then stopped, his words fading away.

She caught a softening of his usually serious eyes as he slowly crossed the room to stand behind her, his eyes taking in the way her dress molded to the curves of her body.  For a moment she couldn’t remember why she was annoyed with him.
 
She had his attention now and his guard was down.
 
It was seductive the way he wrapped a bit of her hair around his fingers and held it to his nose, closing his eyes while inhaling its fragrance.
 
A shiver rippled through her body when he traced his fingertips down her arms.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said.

Their eyes held as they looked at each other in the mirror.  Their image reflected a perfect couple.  Bryce was much taller than Eryn and his wide shoulders and chest formed a strong wall that Eryn longed to lean on.  Those few seconds seemed to hover around them, unsure where to go, but then Bryce quickly dismissed them.
 
Her heart dropped when she saw the desire fade from his eyes.
 
Once again control took over.

“Better be careful.  Old man Michaelson will be here.  He likes pretty women.”

She couldn’t figure out if that was meant to be a warning or a compliment.

“Come on,” he said.  “We should get downstairs.”
 
He led the way, not looking to see if she was following or not.

≈

Eryn leaned against the bar, half-listening to Carl Michaelson as he went on about his newly-acquired 80-foot yacht and all of its can’t-do-without amenities.  Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but that was part of being married to Bryce.
 
His was a world where pretenses and ass-kissing was not only a way of life, but expected.
 
She stoically made nice and hated every minute of it.

Scanning the room over her wine glass as discreetly as she could, she watched the usual groupings of guests.
 
The men, clad in Italian-cut suits, wrists heavy with Rolex watches, were in deep discussions about financial matters, while their wives were scattered about the room in clusters, either looking bored or trying to one-up the other women in the room, using whatever means they possessed – attitude, pricey dresses, or diamonds.
 
Some of the wives were younger, with perfectly bouncy breasts, nipples in a perpetually frozen state jutting through thin fabric.
 
The older women, with attitudes closely resembling that of a Doberman, fiercely guarded the lifestyle they felt were due them, often ignoring their husband’s infidelities.