Authors: Vanessa Riley
She reached up and grabbed him by the ear and tugged his face to hers. "If you never touch me again, you've loved me better than any man ever could."
That lopsided smile of his burst forth as he snaked her beneath the bed sheets. "We'll see."
He didn't say anymore. His mouth was too busy caressing her. Those hands of his that have brought forth life, and could wield a rapier like it pirouetted in the air, started working to draw her nearer, spinning Precious into the light of his love. So close to him, she could feel his pulse racing. He trembled against her as he sunk upon her loving her, all of her.
The bright sun warmed his skin as Gareth walked to the bay. It felt so welcoming. Three weeks of bed rest under the love and care of his new wife had restored him back to health. He folded his arms and sat back against a boulder. Brown grasses surrounded this remote area of the bay. More middens piled high with shells dotted this escape. He lay back folded his arms and counted the white puffy clouds. Hints of pink outlined the sky. Oh, how he loved Port Elizabeth and his family.
Truthfully, he could've been up about his duties in a week, but there was something wonderful about staying in bed with a young wife, one who brought her zeal for life into her passion and her patience. Though he was sure he had enough drive to produce another son out of this new bargain, he still struggled with bouts of nothing. Yet, this wonderful woman made him feel loved and powerful, never weak or less than. She was the right one for him.
Precious's laughter met his ears. He sat up and watched the barefoot sprite twirl in the sand, whirling Jonas. The two fell down, laughing.
Hard to believe the girl who'd been through so much, enslavement, a brutal attack and mutilation, now danced and smiled, seemingly with no cares. She didn't even wear one of those restrictive collars today. The sunlight fell freely upon the scar on her neck.
If this was a dream, he needed to keep guzzling brandy and never wake up. But, this was true. God hadn't forgotten him, and He'd given him much more than Gareth thought possible.
Precious waved. "Let's see if your Pa can name the seashells for us. He's smart like that."
"That sounds like a challenge, my dear. Do I win anything if I am right?" He moved toward them, dropped his rapier into the white sand and sat next to his son.
She shrugged and laughed again. "Not like we know enough to correct you."
It was so good to see her happy and carefree. But he needed to bring up something that surely might steal her smile.
His boy proceeded to plop at least four different types of shells into Gareth's lap. One abalone, the rest different size crab.
He took them up one by one and made a big show of studying them. The sound of hoof beats approached. Mzwamadoda on his silver horse galloped near.
A pout filled Precious's countenance. "Oh, here comes trouble…during the day, too."
Mzwamadoda, taking risks during broad daylight? That wasn't good. Gareth tensed but tried to keep his demeanor calm. Strain between the Xhosa and the colonists had lowered but antipathy remained. It wouldn't take much to start hostilities again. He cast a gaze to Precious. More gratefulness poured through him. Time was a precious gift, something he'd never ever take for granted.
Precious pulled Jonas into her arms, almost crushing the boy. Fear pinched at her lips, but she didn't want Gareth to think she'd lived fretful of the next moment. "I hope this doesn't mean the chief has died. This war foolishness can't start again."
Mzwamadoda slowed his mount and then popped off. His friend stood in his traditional kaross robe, save his English breeches. "This looks like a homely scene. Surely, the captain of the Margeaux with his cannons and sword hasn't become domesticated? The lion is now a kitten."
Gareth purred as he put his arm about Precious's shoulder.
Precious clasped his fingers. "The old chief? Is he dead?"
"No, but soon that day will come. He seems to linger for a reason. Something is undone."
Precious brow furrowed. She couldn't help it. There was such agony in waiting and watching the suffering. Everyone should go like Grandmama. She went to sleep after making dinner. Precious was glad it was a good meal for it was what Grandmama loved.
She swallowed and pressed down her sadness. "And Thembeka?"
"She won't leave his side. She barely touched the food you sent, but Madame Neeltje's other girls ate everything."
Her husband sighed. "I thought they didn't let Xhosa into Mrs. Branddochter's."
Mzwamadoda grinned with his old arrogant smirk. "The Dutch are no better than the English at locking windows."
A smile couldn't help but form on Precious's lips. Though she hadn't had the courage yet to go back inside the brothel, she hadn't forgotten the women. Sending baskets for each of them by Mzwamadoda was a good start.
Gareth pulled to his feet. "Then what brings you? You usually are a nightly guest."
The Xhosa's joy disappeared from his face. "Bezile's not done in his war. He'll find another way to make trouble. I'm hearing things."
Her husband reached over and pulled his rapier from the sand and swung it about. "I figured as much. I…" He looked down at Precious. "I mean we, we will be ready."
Mzwamadoda grabbed at the shaft and lowered Gareth's weapon. "What have you done with the shooter?"
"Grossling? I've confined him to his quarters until I can send him back to England."
The sound of the fool's name made her sick. He'd seen the scars. But maybe there was something human in him, since he did let her go. Precious bounded up and brushed sand from her palms. "No more talk of war or anything else. Time to head home."
She tried to scoop up Jonas, but Gareth blocked her.
"Our day at the beach isn't done, my dear. Besides, if you go back to the house, you'll be cooking or fussing with the baby. I like it here, with just us and you at ease."
She shook her head, and tried hard not to let her eyes become glassy. He made her happy, made her feel so special. "A little longer then, but Jonas needs a nap."
Gareth raised his arms in a yawn. "A nap might be good all around."
With the lift of his brow, the wink of his eye—he wasn't thinking about a nap.
Mzwamadoda shook his head. "Domestic bliss. Well, I like playing with the future, k—leader too. Don't I get that weepy look?"
Precious put a hand on her hip. "You will be lucky if I leave you dinner tonight."
"Delicious food. I want a Precious, Welling. Where can I find one?"
Gareth pulled her fully into his arms. "There's only one and she's mine. So run along or go find you some nice Xhosa woman to settle down with and become domestic."
Mzwamadoda smiled and jumped onto his horse. He set off down the long stretch of sand. "Maybe Xhosa or someone else. Or maybe the Precious one day will grow tired of you, mate. Till next time."
Annoyance at the Xhosa warrior battled in her chest, but the irksome man had saved Gareth and her and Jonas, too. So she couldn't really complain too much. "You don't mind me serving all these people at your table, Xhosa, idiots?"
"Well, it's not Palmer's stiff meals of Firelynn. But it's more of how my uncle saw things. Everyone had a seat at the table."
Their dinners had grown over the past week with Mr. Ralston coming more and more, even the preacher man Dennis too. Maybe Clara might know love again. "You're not still fretting over Mzwamadoda. Are you, Gareth?"
His lips found her neck. She released her own purr.
"No. I love you. And I know you love me. And now that you are legally obligated to stay in bed next to me, I am quite content. There are even papers showing it. I know how fond you are of papers."
She turned her head from Jonas picking at the abalone shell to seek Gareth's eyes. "Like my indentured servant paperwork?"
He winced and fingered the sand. "I signed the release the night we arrived. Any debt was paid when you saved this sorry hide of mine."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"I'm selfish, Precious. I needed more time to show you that we should be together, especially with a flirtatious Xhosa underfoot."
"Well, I found them straightening your crowded desk and as you can see I didn't run off with him even when he kissed me."
The frown crowding Gareth's face warmed her heart. "Remind me that I owe him a bout of fist-a-cuffs."
She sank into Gareth's embrace. "Selfish silly man, I just have to learn to love you more to set your mind at ease."
The wind kicked up as a wave pushed close to their spot. They'd need to move nearer the rocks, but there was something wonderful, just being in this moment locked in loving arms with God's sunlight all about them.
Gareth sighed, tucking her head underneath his chin. "I'll have to release Mr. Grossling from arrest soon since the shooting was not intentional.
She didn't want to think of the odious fellow, but knew Gareth had to do what he must. "The leader of Port Elizabeth is to do what is right."
"There could be redemption for him you know. When I send him back to England, he will clear up the paperwork and get Mrs. Scott her widow's pension. I'd like to send her back but she won't leave. She still thinks her boy will come back. I've had Ralston go reason with her, but she's not inclined to believe otherwise."
Her heart went out to the widow. "She's trapped in the past as I would be if not for you."
"The past is no more Precious Jewell Conroy, my Baroness Welling. In fact, since you single handedly saved Port Elizabeth, perhaps we should dedicate a statue to you."
With Jonas waddling and picking up more shells, she looked out at the clear blue bay and thought of how far she'd journeyed for love. "If we build one, let's make it for Eliza. If not for her, we would never have come to be."
"Maybe so. Eliza set us on this path. But know it is you, not some slight resemblance that has my heart."
She dug deeper underneath his patched blue coat. "I know."
"My dearest, speaking of legal obligations to be in my bed. Maybe you are right about having enough bay air today."
"But you just said, you weren't ready to… You can't be tired?"
He scooped her up and swung her high in the air just as she had been turning toward Jonas. "Who said anything about being tired?"
The wicked glow in his face spoke volumes. She grasped his neck as laughter erupted. "Come on, Jonas. Time for you to play with your blocks in your room."
He set her onto the sand then scooped Jonas up and put him into her arms. The boy barely had a chance to grab more than three of the things he'd gathered.
"Shells for Mammie, Papa?"
"Later, my son. Mammie and Papa have some obligations to work out."
She gripped Gareth's hand and settled the boy on her hip, walking in step with her husband. Yes, these obligations were something she wouldn't grow tired of. And she'd keep working to help him build Port Elizabeth, so he'd always have the time and energy to focus on these obligations in the Conroy home.
Season II Episode I of The Bargain
Length: 10 Chapters (25,000 words)
Summary: The Rise of Thembeka
Watching her father, the great Chief Zifihlephi decline, reliving daily his disgrace has filled Thembeka, Princess of the Xhosa with rage. She will not rest until all who have plotted against his crown are destroyed. She'll even work with the English dogs to gain the advantage. Yet, what more is she willing to sacrifice to gain revenge, her dignity, her heart, or her life?
Hiding from scandal, Percival Theol, the black sheep of the English Prime Minister's family has been sent to his uncle in Port Elizabeth on a mission of redemption. Trying to hide in the shadows is impossible when an irresistible challenge is set in front him, one with eyes of bronze and a determination as strong as diamonds. With everything at stake in the escalating tensions of the Xhosa and English, is he willing to be a traitor to his country or his heart?
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Episode I of Unveiling Love
Length: 8 Chapters (28,000 words)
Coming January 2016
Winning in the courts, vanquishing England's foes on the battlefield, Bradley Norton has used these winner-take-all rules to script his life, but is London's most distinguished mulatto barrister prepared to win the ultimate fight, restoring his wife's love?