Petals on the River (64 page)

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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Love Stories, #Historical, #Nannies, #Historical Fiction, #Virginia, #Virginia - History - Colonial Period; Ca. 1600-1775, #Indentured Servants

BOOK: Petals on the River
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the beat of her heart.
 
"You wouldn't regret our marriage after the

fact?"

 

"I would be taking you to wife, Shemaine, and that's all that matters to

me," Gage declared.
 
"Here in the colonies you'll find that rumors grow

stale very quickly.
 
Such epithets as convict,' rogue,' and thief' are

short-lived unless there are frequent repetitions of offenses to remind

people of one's dastardly bent.
 
Once wed, we'll be like every other

married couple around here."

 

"Is that the way we'll be?" Shemaine inquired timidly.
 
For all of her

wanton imaginings, when it came to presenting herself as a bride, she

could only worry about her thinness and lack of desirability.
 
"Will we

share ourselves as other couples do?"

 

Now it was Gage's turn to grow troubled and perplexed.
 
'What are you

asking, Shemaine?
 
That I be something less than a husband to you?"

 

A crimson blush stained her cheeks.
 
"I shouldn't expect that of you,

Mr.
 
Thornton, but I'm dreadfully thin and .
 
.
 
.
 
and not very

pleasant to look at without.
 
.
 
."

 

"Your clothes?" Gage finished for her, sensing her reluctance to

continue.
 
His eyes dropped briefly to her softly clad bosom, then

returned to caress her face.
 
He could only wonder how she was able to

imagine herself as unappealing when he was certain she was the most

beautiful woman he had ever seen.
 
"If you were to insist upon

abstinence in our union, Shemaine, twould be better for us not to wed at

all, for I could not endure seeing you near .
 
.
 
.
 
wanting you .
 
. .

and not being intimate with you.
 
I'm a man, Shemaine, not a monk.
 
I

desire you as much as any man can desire a woman.
 
I think you must know

that by now.
 
If you're bothered at all about being thin or weak,

believe I I me when I say that it just doesn't matter that much to me. I

want you just the way you are!
 
And if you should still feel frail when

we're married, be assured that my strength is enough for the two of us.

I would take care not to hurt you and would nurture any tenderness you

might feel.
 
So I entreat you, my dear Shemaine, to consider me as a

suitor desirous of becoming your husband in every sense of the word."

 

"You do overwhelm a girl, Mr.
 
Thornton," Shemaine breathed, hardly able

to keep her thoughts from imagining his wonderfully contoured body in

sharp contrast to her thin form.
 
The images of them lying together in

bed began to rush upon her and were far more sensual than she would have

cared to admit.
 
Now that she had admired a naked man for herself, her

mother's rather embarrassed explanations about what went on between a

husband and a wife were enlarged upon and elucidated in her mind.

 

Gage raised a hand and gently brushed his knuckles against her flushed

cheek.
 
"Will you be my wife, Shemaine?"

 

Shemaine remembered the pomp that had surrounded the occasion when

Maurice du Mercer had voiced such a question, but for the life of her,

she could not recall her heart thumping quite so wildly within her chest

as it did after this man's simple but stirring proposal.
 
She considered

what it would mean being married to a colonial and committing herself to

staying with him long after the seven years on her original

indentureship.
 
She still yearned to see her family, but for reasons

that were both clear and ambiguous, she could no longer feature herself

returning to England and marrying an affluent husband there.
 
It seemed

more appropriate for her to stay and make a home with the man who had

awakened the passion within her.
 
If she did not love him at this time,

she certainly desired him, and she could not continue living in the same

house with him without seeking fulfillment as a woman.
 
It was far

better to marry than to try to bridle her cravings for the next seven

years.

 

Slowly Shemaine responded with a consenting nod.
 
"Aye, Mr. Thornton, I

will be your wife.
 
.
 
.
 
in every sense of the word."

 

Gage became eager and lighthearted.
 
"We can be married in

Williamsburg," he said softly.
 
"By then, your side will be on the mend,

and we can return by evening and spend our wedding night here in the

cabin."

 

Despite her efforts to appear calm, her voice quavered.
 
'Whatever you

think best, Mr.
 
Thornton."

 

Lifting her chin, Gage settled a gently caressing kiss upon her lips, as

if afraid he'd hurt her with anything more passionate.
 
When he drew

back, he explored her face with shining eyes as he whispered, "Shouldn't

you think about calling me Gage now?
 
After all, I'll soon be your

husband."

 

"Gage." His name came in a tremulous sigh as he lowered his lips to hers

again, but this time his mouth slanted across hers in a devouring

search, quickening her pulse until she felt the stirring of ardor in her

woman's body once more.
 
His tongue slipped between her lips with

provocative boldness, claiming the warm cavern with a possessive

voracity that set her senses to flight and awakening a memory of an

evening not so long ago.
 
Of a sudden, she was eager for the weeks to

pass.

 

"Daddee, Andee go preevee!" Andrew cried suddenly, breaking them apart

with the effectiveness of a bucket of cold water.
 
Racing into the

corridor, the boy danced up and down in an anxious dither.
 
Gage swept

him up and was out the back door in a flash, leaving Shemaine fairly

dazed with awe.
 
Having previously been aroused by an ardent kiss from

his lips and having found this recent one gentler but no less stirring,

she was convinced that there was much more sensual zeal in Gage Thornton

than even her dreams had portrayed.
 
Indeed, she found herself growing

increasingly exhilarated by the idea of being intimate with the man.

 

Was she dreaming again?
 
Was this really happening to her?
 
Would she

soon be sharing a bed with Gage Thornton?
 
Or would he return from

taking Andrew to the privy and say that he had only been teasing her?

Warts off a toad, more or less?

 

s..

 

.XA .

 

, , CHAPTER 14

 

Gage left his canoe by the river and entered the hamlet of Newportes

Newes with a definite purpose in mind.
 
He went first to the London

Pride, but at his terse inquiry, the bosun's mate informed him that

Jacob Potts was at liberty and wasn't expected to return to the ship

until the following week.
 
When Gage pushed through the doors of the

tavern several moments later, he overheard Morrisa being chided by her

new owner, an older and rather portly woman wearing a tawdry red gown

and a frizzy white wig which sat slightly askew atop her head.

 

"The gent's paid good money ta have ye, an' ye'll accommodate him," the

elder insisted, pounding a fist upon the table.
 
"An' I'll be hearin' no

more o' yer carpin' bout him bein' a li'l weasel or that he's low-down

mean like the other girls told ye.
 
I've heard meself Sam Myers aren't

got much in his breeches ta speak o', an' he likes ta prove himself a

man in other ways.
 
But as long as he's willin' ta pay the higher fees I

charge him for lettin' me girls go over ta his place ta service his

needs, ye'll tolerate his cuffs an' his dirty li'l tricks an' mind yer

manners whilst ye're doin' it.
 
Do ye hear?"

 

"Aye, I hear ye, Freida," Morrisa mumbled, but she was hardly amenable

to the idea.
 
There were ways of dealing with odious little rattails

like Samuel Myers.
 
Why, with a simple flick of a blade, Jacob Potts

could put that blooming toad out of his misery.
 
That is, if her li'l

lapdoggie ever got on his feet again and came out of hiding.

 

It seemed lately that Potts couldn't do anything right where the

bogtrotter was concerned, Morrisa mentally jeered.
 
Hadn't she sent him

out to challenge Gage on the street the night of the dance?
 
But what

did Potts do?
 
He got himself beat up good and proper, that's what!

Then, after venturing onto the colonial's land, he came back with a big

hole in his side and was now laid out like an ailing walrus.
 
Freddy had

taken him a fair distance away, where he could be treated by a doctor

and where he'd be out of harm's way in case the colonial came looking

for him.
 
But for the time being, the swabber was utterly useless to

her.

 

Freida leaned forward to claim Morrisa's attention with a dark scowl.

 

"I've been makin' some good money since I brought me girls inta this

here area, an' I aren't wantin' no li'l snitch like Myers callin' foul

an' sayin' he's been cheated.
 
He just might scare off some o' our

customers if'n he did.
 
I bought ye off that prison ship so's ye could

help me business along, not ta set me at odds with the gents.
 
An' if'n

ye don't make double o' what I paid for ye within the first year, ye can

bet I'll be takin' it out o' yer hide."

 

Morrisa sulked in mutinous discontent as she turned away from the

harping crone, but her expression changed to one of wonder when she

espied Gage Thornton coming through the door.
 
She was anxious to hear

how Shemaine had fared after being wounded, and he was certainly her

best source for getting that information.
 
Hopefully the li'l beggar had

taken a fever and would soon die like she should have done long ago.

 

Growing smug in her confidence that she could wreak revenge on her

adversary, Morrisa offered a sultry-eyed smile to Gage as she ran a hand

invitingly over her voluptuous form.
 
"Well, gov'na, I sees ye've

changed yer mind bout me offer, eh?
 
I knew twould only be a matter o'

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