Katie Rose (29 page)

“Gabriel, please,” she begged, wanting the fulfillment his hard muscled body promised.

He withdrew from their embrace a small amount, then she felt him, poised at the moist warmth of her body. Rising to welcome him, she gasped as she felt him enter her that first small bit, then he plunged painlessly and fully inside her wet heat, filling her completely. A ragged moan escaped her as he withdrew and entered over and over, bringing her closer and closer to ecstasy each time. She cried out, shuddering as she reached it, feeling his answering moan as he could no longer hold back. Fused together for this sweet moment, they joined in blissful, astonishing pleasure.

It was several moments before Gabriel could move. When he did, he simply lifted his weight from Jennifer’s body, then wrapped her in his arms. Jennifer sighed, enjoying the feeling of total contentment, and the warmth of his naked body next to hers. Smiling, she brushed a stray lock of hair from his face.

“How is your head? Is it all right?” Her fingers found the lump he’d gotten from the stairs.

Gabriel winced, then the pain seemed to ease from his face and he nodded, obviously amazed. “It’s much better. You really do have some kind of healing talent, don’t you?” When Jennifer frowned, annoyed that he would still question her, Gabriel chuckled. “Just make sure of one thing.”

“What’s that?” she asked, noting the teasing glint that came into his eyes.

“That this isn’t part of the whole Appleton magnetic healing cure. That, my dear, I couldn’t tolerate, especially on Wall Street.”

Jennifer giggled, then settled down in his arms. It felt so right, to have him hold her like this, to enjoy the moment of peace between them. Awareness gradually came to her, however, and reluctantly she rose from his side.

“I’ve got to go. Penelope and Winifred are probably worried sick. They must think you’ve killed me, or beaten me, at least.”

Gabriel grinned. “I felt very close to that earlier. I don’t know when I’ve ever been that angry.”

“Do you forgive me?” Jennifer asked, and Gabriel took her in his arms once more.

“You have a way of making it impossible to stay angry. Yes, I forgive you. But don’t try anything like that again. I’ve already told you that I care for you, Jennifer. I would never deliberately hurt you. If you’re worried about something, come to me. I think you’ll find that I have some character, after all.”

A small hope tugged inside of her, one that she wouldn’t allow herself to give attention to. Nodding, she kissed him, then quickly removed herself from his reach and pulled on her dress. Rose petals fluttered to the floor, and she laughed, blowing one in the air toward him.

Gabriel watched her, enchanted, then in a moment, she was gone. Jennifer, he realized, had worked her magic on him completely.

Gabriel awoke early the next morning. For a moment, he lay in the little bed, disoriented, unable to remember where he was. Everything flooded back to him, culminating in his incredible lovemaking with Jennifer. He rose, amazed to find that her “cure,” her magnetic healing, wasn’t simply a prelude to what had happened between them afterward, but had lasting effects. His head felt clear, his limbs no longer ached, and even his derriere felt better. Apparently, his little charlatan did indeed have some real talent, aside from the one he admired most.

But why, oh why, did it have to be her? His emotions wreaked havok with his logic as he realized he’d never felt any of this toward Allison. He never felt compelled to kiss
her until she swooned, to argue with her until she confessed he was right, to make love to her at the slightest brush of her fingertips. He admitted the truth to himself; he cared about Jennifer, deeply. He had never met a woman like her, and as angry as she made him, he was forced to admire so many things about her: her courage, her intelligence, her charm, and her wit. She teased him and defied him, tormented him and kidnapped him, locked him away, then made love to him with a passion that left him reeling. His society would never accept her, and he was practically engaged to another woman—one who was perfectly suitable. Why, then, couldn’t he keep either his mind or his hands off Jennifer?

It was a question without an answer. Worse, he knew that the past two days had changed many of his perceptions about her, perceptions that had been very convenient. He had considered her a charlatan, yet in watching her performance, he understood what the Appletons gave their clients. Although he still wasn’t convinced that she was a mystic, he couldn’t deny that she gave comfort to the grief-stricken, and perhaps deserved some kind of compensation for that.

She truly was gifted when it came to healing—his own body testified to that. Who was he, then, to call her a fake, and demand that she cease to provide this help to others? Would society truly benefit if Jennifer stopped her practice? How many other Mrs. Hawthornes were out there, women who had lost sons and husbands in the war, men who had lost the love of a lifetime? Was it really so terrible for them to think they’d spoken to their loved ones once more, especially when the spirits seemed to invariably offer peace? But his own religious and moral convictions railed that it was wrong. The whole thing was terribly confusing.

Even more than that, having lived with Jennifer and her sisters, he saw the reason for her deceptions. Left orphaned
and financially unstable, their choices had been grim. Did he really wish for them to become what society would accept, schoolmarms and companions, poor, penniless maids ripe for the first man who would wed them? It was a thought that he couldn’t bear.

Dressing quickly, Gabriel quit the place, closing the front door softly behind him. Jennifer and her sisters would still be sleeping after their late night. He knew Eve was due back sometime today, and although he’d been able to justify his appearance at breakfast, he knew that explaining a weekend stay would be nearly impossible. As Winifred had so coolly pointed out, discovery of such a thing would ruin them, and although Gabriel had pretended otherwise, he had no intention of causing Jennifer—or the other Appletons—real harm.

He stood outside the house for a moment, noticing the poor condition of the place. Mentally, he calculated the cost of repairs. They needed mortar for the chimney, a new roof, some plaster work, and indoor refurbishments. His own estimate stunned him, but Gabriel put aside his tendency toward thrift. He had plenty of connections in the construction industry from his own business, and more than one carpenter and mason owed him favors. He could probably take care of the repairs for one tenth of what it would cost Jennifer, and he’d feel good about it in the bargain. He refused to question his own motives, other than to admit that he had to do something to help her, something to show her how he felt.

Whistling, he strode up the street to the livery to order his coach. He didn’t notice the elegant carriage that slowed beside him, nor did he see Jonathan Wiseley as the man stopped his horses in astonishment. Gabriel continued walking as the sun rose in the east, whistling to himself, in all appearances a happy man. He crossed the road to the stables, and a moment later, drove down the street and was gone.

Jonathan gazed at the stables, then at the street where Gabriel had come from. Twin Gables rose at the center of the block like an elegant Victorian lady, aging and painted, but still charming all the same. A nasty suspicion crept into his mind, one that refused to go away. Waiting until he saw Gabriel’s carriage go past at the crossroads, he alighted from his own vehicle to approach the livery. A sullen-looking boy chewed tobacco insolently, then spat at the curb as he approached.

Jonathan drew his gentleman’s coat aside in repugnance, but managed a smile. He withdrew a silver coin from his pocket and dangled it before the youth.

“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?”

“The gentleman that just left. Do you know where he was staying, and when he left his carriage?”

“You mean Mr. Forester?” The boy’s streetwise gaze narrowed in speculation. “Who wants to know?”

“A friend. Mr. Forester and I are acquainted.”

“Then why don’t you ask him yourself?” The boy smirked.

Jonathan produced another coin. The boy snatched them both up and put them furtively inside his coat. “Mr. Forester left his carriage Friday night. He was supposed to come back for it the same evening, but, except for a brief trip out with a lady on Saturday, it’s been here ever since.”

“A lady? Hmmm. And where was he going on Friday?”

“Twin Gables, sir. That’s all I know.”

Jonathan smiled. “That’s more than enough, boy. More than enough.”

Aunt Eve bundled through the door with her bags in hand. Handing her parcels to Jennifer, she embraced Penelope, then gave Winifred’s cheek a fond rub as she sank into her favorite chair.

“It’s so good to be home! Did anything of importance happen while I was away?”

Jennifer choked, and Penelope smiled charmingly. “Not at all, Auntie, everything was completely normal. For us, anyway.” She giggled irrepressibly.

Aunt Eve looked from one guilty face to the next. Jennifer hastened to put away her bags, while Winifred proffered tea.

“Tell us about your trip, Auntie,” Jennifer said, sending Penelope a threatening glare. “We want to hear all about it.”

In spite of her forebodings, Eve was soon comfortably ensconced back in her own home. The parrot squawked as Angel teased him unmercifully. The fire crackled, and the tea was hot and sweet.

“I had a wonderful time. Everything went better than expected.” She looked at her nieces with the same expression she wore on Christmas morning, waiting to see their
faces as they opened a specially planned present. “I didn’t tell you girls, for I didn’t want to raise your hopes too much, but I went to see Mrs. Adams.”

“What?” Penelope nearly dropped her own teacup. “You stayed with her? How wonderful, and how scandalous!”

Winifred looked up from her book, interested in spite of herself, while Jennifer’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

Eve chuckled, as if she were delighted to have shocked them. “Yes, I went to see Mildred. We had a wonderful visit! It is delightful to realize that some things never change, nor some people, for that matter. At first it was a little awkward and strange, but soon we were chatting away like two schoolgirls.”

“That’s great, Auntie,” Jennifer said, amazed that this tiny, befuddled woman had managed to keep her own secrets so well.

“You should see her house,” Eve continued, her eyes closing dreamily. “It’s absolutely stunning. Everything was marble and gilt, all done in the most exquisite taste. I saw paintings by Rembrandt, Chippendale furniture, English china, and Irish linen. We dined on beef Wellington, and drank the best wines. We even had Napoleon brandy.” Eve giggled girlishly, as if confessing a major transgression.

“That sounds marvelous,” Penelope said, sighing. “It must be so nice to have all that money.”

“That Mildred has, although I don’t know that it brought her happiness.” Eve’s cheerful expression turned solemn, and she shook her head in thought. “I may have mentioned that Mildred once loved a man she couldn’t have. She’s never forgotten him. Funny, I don’t think her parents ever suspected that she loved him like that. Even now, not a day goes by that she doesn’t think of him.”

“It’s all so romantic,” Penelope said.

“I think it’s a little impractical,” Winifred remarked. “What good has it done her except bring her unhappiness
and longing? She would have done better to forget him and cut her losses.”

“Do you think so?” Aunt Eve’s blue eyes twinkled strangely. “His memory may torment her, but she also confessed that his love was the only real happiness she’s ever known. In any case, I have good news for you three. She has promised to come visit, and to attend one of your theatricals! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Jennifer and Penelope hugged each other, then enveloped their aunt in a tight embrace. Even Winifred looked pleased as she peered up from her books.

“Oh, Auntie, how can we ever thank you! Why this is more than wonderful. Good Lord, if Mildred Adams endorses us, we are practically assured society’s seal of approval!” Penelope could barely contain her excitement.

“We would be accepted by the Billings, and the Howes. Why, we would be socially superior to them!” Winifred said, her scholarly finger tapping.

Eve nodded sagely. “Yes, and no man could object to any of you then! You could have your pick of beaux!”

Penelope and Winifred cheered delightedly, while Jennifer looked quickly at the floor. Thankfully, Aunt Eve didn’t notice. The older woman’s head dipped in embarrassment as the girls thanked her heartily. Wiping at her eyes, she smiled fondly at her nieces.

“I am so pleased to be able to help. Mildred will be here in a fortnight, and we have so much to prepare. We need to clean up the house, and you girls need new gowns. I must tutor you more on etiquette—Mildred has perfect manners and won’t tolerate mishaps. Your behavior must be above criticism. That means no rough language, Jennifer, no posturing, Penelope. And Winifred, you must pretend to be interested in her conversation, even if you find it dull …”