Stavewood (Stavewood Saga Book 1) (24 page)

      Timothy groaned, “Oh, God…”

      “It’s alright, Tim. It happened. I wanted it to happen. You were drinking and I did nothing to stop it. It happened and you should not be sorry.”

      “Are you?” He looked up at her breathing hard and tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

      “Sorry? That I mislead you? Yes, terribly. Sorry that you were so perfectly wonderful? Never!” She looked into his tormented eyes wishing everything had been different.

      “If I had told the truth all along then there might have been hope that everything was as perfect as that night. But I didn’t. I kept the truth from you and everyone else. I had no right to be with you that night. I am sorrier for that than anything.” She stood before him crying softly, hoping with all of her being that he could just forget it all. Forget she had come, forgive her lie and, if possible, in some way forget what she was.

      “I’ll leave immediately, Tim. I can’t undo any of it, but I will never forget that night.”

      “Leave? Is that what you want, Rebecca? Do you want to leave Stavewood?”

      “No,” she cried hard. “More than anything I want to stay, but I know I cannot.”

      “Rebecca, tell me.” He held her shoulders powerfully and stared into her eyes. “If this could all be resolved, if none of it mattered, Rebecca, what would you want?”

      “You,” she whispered.

Chapter Forty-One

    
 
T
imothy
Elgerson whisked Rebecca swiftly up into his arms and carried her through the hall. She clung to him, afraid that none of what was happening existed, and just as quickly as it happened it would all disappear again.

      He expected, in his state of exhaustion, there would be little performance on his part, but he wanted her close to him, safe in his bed.

      He placed her gently onto the bed, covering her carefully with the downy quilts. Then he walked around, undressed and climbed in next to her.

      He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her face seriously.

      “Stay right here!” he commanded her and fell back onto the bed.

      Rebecca lay listening to his breathing. In a few seconds she heard a soft sigh and smiled. Snuggling beside his safe warmth, she drifted off to sleep.

      Timothy Elgerson lay awake in the soft light of early morning with Rebecca Fagan beside him, breathing softly, close to his side.

      Her slender leg was thrown across his bare thigh and he knew instantly that a good night’s sleep had done wonders as he stirred beneath her.

      He turned to face her and found her smiling at him invitingly.

      “Mister Elgerson, it appears that at least part of you has decided to begin the day,” Rebecca giggled.

      Timothy chuckled deeply and pulled her towards him, smothering her with his kisses and leaving her panting for breath.

      “Rebecca,” he whispered as she slipped away from him. She stood beside the bed, allowing her gown to fall from her shoulders into soft folds about her ankles.

      Her body was perfectly shaped, her shoulders pale and silken in the soft morning light. He felt her warmth, enticing and compliant as she slid back in beside him and he struggled for control. He had foggy memories of their first time and he feared had performed badly. He did not want that to happen again.

      He touched her slowly and carefully and in his hunger for her he struggled to take his time. He kissed her softly on the nape of her neck and he felt her shudder, begging for more. As his warm lips touched her breast she arched her back and pulled him closer.

      Her trim waist encircled in his firm hands, he lifted her gently while kissing her belly softly and Rebecca feared she could stand no more. As he lowered his kisses, she caught her breath, unsure of how she should behave, but her craving for whatever he had planned for her overcame her apprehension and she allowed herself to accept his advances.

      As his kisses reached their destination Rebecca gasped and lifted herself to him without restraint, the warmth of more pleasure than she had imagined washing over her. She pulled his broad muscular shoulders up to face her and as he entered her, the pleasure engulfed her even more.

      Timothy held back, watching her panting, immersed in fulfillment, feeling every vibration of her soft moans. His name escaped her lips in a soft whisper as every inch of her flawless body blended perfectly with his own.

      “Rebecca, I was such a fool,” his voice deep and low, as in ragged breaths he whispered heavily against her lips. He drew her to him suddenly, thrusting deeply and pulling her powerfully against him, fiercely trembling as she rose to meet his passion.

      Rebecca’s fingers felt the immense strength of his muscles rising against her as she seized the firm flesh in his straining release, the imposing tightness of his broad powerful shoulders exploding as they expanded against her craving grasp.

      The depth of his passion filled her entirely as they joined together in a perfect bond, the unreserved fulfillment of desire they could both no longer deny.

      He moved slowly as he shifted his weight from her, and pulled her to him, and she buried her flushed face against this throat.

      “Rebecca,” he whispered, her tender face pressed against him. He looked down, her soft eyes met his own and he knew instantly what he had seen in the depths of her passionate gaze for so long, afraid to acknowledge.

      “Marry me, Rebecca.”

      She choked and her eyes filled with tears.

      “Nothing else matters, none of it ever has. Marry me and I will stop at nothing to make you happy. I promise.”

      “You already have,” she whispered. “Yes, Timothy. I will marry you.”

Chapter Forty-Two

    
 
A
s she rose from the bed, gathering her robe in one hand and trailing it behind her, she smiled provocatively and walked towards the bath.

      “If you continue in that manner, woman, I fear you will find yourself back in my bed!” He scowled and made a move to get up after her.

      Rebecca giggled and scampered into the adjoining room, closing the door behind her.

      Timothy lay back in the bed. The pleasure of the morning and Rebecca’s return of his love had changed his world, but he knew there were problems he would have to address.

      He would have to explain this amazing turn of events to Ben and many others as well. He decided he ought to speak to Rebecca about it before revealing the full story to just anyone and worried that word of their relationship might make some things worse. If Dianna was pursuing Rebecca, this could provoke her and the thought worried him.

      When she returned, clothed in her robe, he sat up on the bed and approached the subject.

      “This changes everything you know.” He studied her face, awaiting her reaction.

      “Does it really matter, Timothy?” she asked, curling her feet beneath her robe on the bed beside him. “If you want me, no matter what, then no other opinions really matter. I was ashamed of answering your ad. I was so ashamed that I kept it hidden. But I never have been ashamed of what I feel for you.”

      “When word gets out it might make you more vulnerable to Dianna and Octavia. I’m worried about that risk.”

      “Is that your worry?” Rebecca was afraid there might be something more.

      “Yes.” He pulled her to face him, looking openly into her eyes. “Rebecca, I love you. I think I have since that day I pulled you from the mare in the woods. Through all of this that hasn’t changed. I only worry that something might happen to you.”

      “You deserved that kick in the woods,” she smiled through her welling tears, and put her head against his wide chest.

      “It was Stavewood,” she whispered, tracing a delicate finger along his ribs.

      “Stavewood?”

      “The day I arrived, I saw the look in your eyes that day. I knew then, it was as if I had always belonged here. I knew then.”

      “You have always belonged here, Rebecca. I built Stavewood for a dream I thought I had found. But I was mistaken. The day we arrived and I looked at you I knew I had built it for you.”

      He held her close to him, their thoughts and fears intertwined until they heard activity downstairs and Rebecca’s head shot up.

      “How will I get back to my room like this without anyone seeing me?”

      “This is your room now. Stay here.”

      “Timothy,” she scolded. “If Mark knew I was sleeping in here what would he think?”

      “He’d probably be thrilled! Anyway I think after the sounds that have been coming from this room, the whole household probably knows!” He smiled devilishly.

      “Oh!” she huffed. “You’re just as impossible as you were before I told you that I love you.”

      “No, you said you loved Stavewood.”

      “I was wrong,” she pouted. “You’re even more impossible! Now how am I going to get back to my room?”

      “Alright, I’ll be a lookout. How would that be?”

      She smiled at him sweetly, “I love you, Timothy,” and gave him a shove with her tiny foot.

      “Ach!” He fell back on the bed.

      Before he could execute his furtive plan Birget appeared at the door, unable to find Rebecca and flustered with worry.

      “Rebecca’s here,” he informed the cook, after jumping into his pants and answering the door, unable to have the poor woman worried about the girl.

      Rebecca stood behind the door glaring at him as he smiled.

      “Ah,” the cook replied. “Then she is safe.”

      “I suppose that would be a matter of opinion, Birget.”

      Rebecca was stomping her feet silently behind the door, showing claws and mouthing threats.

      “Very well, sir. I will serve breakfast.” Birget turned away puzzled as Timothy closed the door.

      “You!” Rebecca dashed at him, beating him soundly on the chest, her frustrated voice a rushed whisper. “How dare you, you shameless rogue!”

      “See Rebecca?” he announced proudly as she battered his solid chest. “I don’t care who knows!”

      “Stop tormenting me and see if I can get back to my room!”

      He peered out into the hall, making an exaggerated display of looking up and down the corridor several times and pushed Rebecca out, his big hand on her soft backside.

      Forgetting to mention the sheriff’s arrival, Birget turned on the stairs in time to see Rebecca being thrust playfully into the hall and scolding Timothy. Birget waited until she heard Rebecca’s door softly close, and climbed the stairs to make her notice to her employer, smiling broadly.

      Timothy appeared in the dining room, carefully shaved and smartly dressed. He had checked Mark, and, finding the boy was chipper and eager to be out of bed, told him to come down for breakfast.

      The boy felt that something had changed, but when Rebecca arrived in his room, her cheeks rosy and smiling broadly, he was certain something was going on.

      “Rebecca?” he asked as she combed the boy’s hair. “Are you still going to leave?”

      “No, Mark, I think not. Things are different now. Your father and I will explain it to you soon.”

      She turned him to face her and to check his appearance.

      “Is it because you’re in love?”

      Rebecca nearly choked. “What?”

      “I know you are both in love. I can tell.” He announced devilishly.

      “But, how?” Rebecca was terrified that her and Timothy’s love making may actually have been heard all through the house. Rebecca blushed deeply.

      “I dunno, I just can. I see how you look at each other. I watched you dance and stuff. I think you and my father are in love, but you’re both chicken.” He smiled proudly.

      “Chicken? How dare you!”

      Mark grinned, and walked slowly from the room, looking back at the woman, smiling knowingly.

      Rebecca groaned in embarrassment.

    It was shocking how bitterly cold Rebecca’s room felt to her, as she entered to dress for breakfast.

      She hurried through her hot bath, the warmth of the steaming water unable to chase the chill from her shivering body. Selecting the warmest of her dresses, she decided that the weather in her new home was frustratingly unpredictable, and hoped it would stabilize quickly before she either melted away or froze to death.

      Donning her only wrap, a soft and lacy shawl, she draped it around her trembling shoulders and descended the massive main staircase. Surprised to find the family dining room was vacant, she hastened to the larger dining room while trying to chase off her chill in the warm hall.

      “There you are!” Timothy rose from his chair at the head of the table, and walking to Rebecca, pulled out the chair at the opposite end.

      Rebecca looked around the room as Mark and Ben Carson rose from their places, the boy’s face dark with concern and the sheriff appearing confused. She lowered herself into the chair, bewildered that it was not the place at the table she ordinarily used, and frowned, concerned with Timothy’s odd behavior. The big man returned to his seat, a peculiar, serious look upon his face.

      Immediately the staff filed into the room silently, worried looks on their faces, and lined themselves in an orderly fashion along the wall.

      Mark recalled that the last time his father called the staff in such a way was before he released many of them shortly after his mother’s death, and closed down Stavewood to relocate to the hunting cabin.

      Both his father and Rebecca had seemed so cheerful, but suddenly his father’s demeanor had changed and he had left the family room and directed them to wait in the formal dining room. The boy fought back tears in confusion and waited, dreading his father’s announcement.

      Timothy stood and began.

       “Since you all seem to be expecting the worst, I suppose I should explain why I have gathered all of you, including you as well, Ben, together this morning.”

      The occupants in the room avoided looking at the man, with the exception of Rebecca who was dumbfounded at what she began to suspect the man was up to.

      “No,” he began. “Contrary to what I’m sure you are all thinking I am not closing Stavewood.”

      Rebecca could feel confusion and relief flood through the room.

      “I merely wanted to inform all of you collectively, lest there be gossip or misunderstand among any of you, since you are all a part of my household, and you a very close friend, Ben,” Timothy continued seriously.

      Ben Carson lifted his eyes from the table and felt he should be embarrassed somehow.

      “I suppose I have tormented you all enough, and so, my reason why you are all here.”

      Every face in the room watched Timothy Elgerson silently, Rebecca drawing in a deep breath.

      “To my unbelievably good fortune, Rebecca has agreed to remain at Stavewood. She has also agreed to marry me.”

      The room exploded in a collective gasp as Mark rushed to Rebecca’s side in tears and threw his arms around her slender shoulders. Ben Carson, although overcome with curiosity over the turn of events, shook Timothy’s hand vigorously as the staff chuckled and Birget wiped her tears on her generous apron.

      “Well, it’s about damn time!” The cook bellowed above the chattering and, overcome with emotion, walked out of the room.

      The staff filed out behind her, smiling to Rebecca with warm congratulations, Mark beside them, hopping about and whooping loudly.

      Rebecca blushed from the warmth of the compliments and shook her head as the boy danced around, sure that he was perfectly healthy, regardless of his recent ordeal.

      “Well, Tim,” Ben sat back in his chair. “I have to admit that this is no surprise. My Missus has been carrying on about the two of you since your party, as well as most of the territory I suspect. I’m sure myself that this is a wonderful match for the both of you, and I’m certain you will be quite happy together.” Ben smiled to Rebecca and nodded appreciatively. “However I have my concerns over your announcement, Tim. I’m sure you must have considered the ramifications this might have.”

      “I have.” Timothy smiled reassuringly at Rebecca.

      “Well, before we even discuss any of that, I’m all ears man. What happened after I left last night?”

      Rebecca cleared her throat and excused herself.

      Although it had not occurred to him to relate anything to the sheriff that in any way involved their intimate lovemaking following their conversation in the kitchen, he could see embarrassment plainly in her eyes.

      He recalled how he had felt at Ben’s discovery that he had, in fact, ordered a mail order bride himself and understood her concerns.

      “Please, excuse me one moment,” he nodded to Ben and crossed the room as Rebecca lifted herself from her chair. Gently he directed her out into the central corridor.

      “Rebecca!” he exclaimed. “Why are you shaking?” He had thought his announcement an amusing surprise but now became concerned.

      “I’m sorry,” she whispered, kissing him softly on the cheek and grasping the warmth of his wrist. “You are so endearing to make your announcement. Although I suspect you took years off Birget’s life.” Rebecca smiled, shaking her head.

      “Your hand is freezing!” Timothy wrapped his arms around her and felt that her entire body was chilled.

      “My room was so cold when I went back to bathe. I have to say your weather here is quite unpredictable.”

      He went to the kitchen after instructing her to wait by the fire in the study and returned with a woolen cape that seemed large enough to cover every inch of the woman and wrapped it lovingly around her shoulders.

      “The maids will bring your breakfast in here and they are going up to warm your room now. I’ll come up as soon as Ben and I have finished talking.” He kissed her, drawing her close to him and enfolding her in his powerful arms.

      Rebecca wished she could remain there, basking in his love and radiating warmth. She could not possibly tell him that she had chosen her heaviest dress, and nodded quietly.

      He kissed her passionately, still fighting the feeling that everything he was experiencing seemed unreal and she looked lovingly into his eyes. He looked into the depths of her emerald eyes and felt her desire for him and he pulled himself away.

      “If I linger here any longer, madam, you will no longer be chilled, I’m quite sure, and I may never return to speak to the sheriff. Cease your torment of me and stay here beside the fire.”