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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Historical, #Historical Romance

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BOOK: Unconquered
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“Soon the girls lay on the grassy banks with their legs spread wide, and each man in his turn knelt between a girl’s legs and pushed his stiffened appendage in and out of her body until he collapsed. The girls cried out, but they did not seem to be in pain. We saw that when the men stood up afterward their appendages were limp again.”

“What was it the men were doing with the gypsies?”

“They were making love! Caroline says that to have a man inside of you is a delicious feeling, although I will admit that the gypsies looked kind of funny. So did the men. Anyway, Caroline says that there is pain the first time, when you are still a virgin, but that there is never any pain after that one time. And …”

Here Amanda paused, nearly overwhelmed by her own knowledge. Then she added brightly, “Oh, yes! Babies are born through the opening we use for making love.”

“But how can that be, Amanda?” Miranda was beginning to sound doubtful again. “A whole baby getting through there? That doesn’t sound right.”

“Caroline says the body stretches. She should know. She has a son!” Amanda stoutly defended her friend.

“Caroline is certainly full of facts,” said Miranda. “I wonder she did not leave this to Mama to explain.”

Amanda chuckled. “On the day you are married to Jared Mama will tell you nothing. She will tell you to trust in God, and
obey your husband in all things. If she has had enough rum punch she may be bold enough to say that there are certain things in marriage that are necessary even if unpleasant. You will be left believing that babies are found under mushrooms, and in bluebells!”

Miranda was amazed. For all these years she had believed she was protecting Amanda, the gentle, slower twin, from the harshness of the world! Now it appeared that little Amanda knew far more than she did of things necessary to survival in a man’s world. In her quiet way, Amanda had great strength.

“Do you have any questions?” asked Amanda matter-of-factly.

“No. You seem to have answered them all.”

“Good! It really isn’t fair to send a girl to her marriage bed with no real knowledge,” said Amanda.

“One little thing, twin?”

“Yes?”

“If a girl is supposed to be a virgin on her wedding night, then how do men gain their experience?”

“Miranda, there are
good
girls, and there are
bad
girls in this world. Not all bad girls are necessarily gypsies.”

The grandfather clock in the hall struck ten. “Go to bed, Amanda,” said her sister.

“All right! I do feel ever so much better having spoken to you, Miranda.” She slipped out of the bed, and picked up her half-burned candle. “Sweet dreams, dearest,” she said, and then she was gone and Miranda heard the door close behind her.

Replumping the pillows, she yanked the crumpled quilt up over her shoulders. What a lot of bother this was going to be, she thought irritably.

I must be a woman now, she thought sadly, and I don’t think I’ll like it at all. But oh, Papa! I won’t let Wyndsong down! I’ll do what I must. And so resolving, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

    Chapter 4    

“A
TRAGIC DEATH, AND SO DAMNED—YOUR PARDON, LADIES—SO
damned unnecessary,” said John Dunham. He stroked his thick gray sideburns. “So, Jared, you’ve come into your inheritance, and are now the lord of Wyndsong Manor. Have you had a chance to see where on the island we might place a boat yard? Don’t worry about skilled workers, for we’ve more than enough to bring down; we’ll build them their village right around the yard. I hear there’s a vast forest on the island of both hard and soft woods. Good! We’ll not have to import wood to build the ships.”

Imagining Miranda’s reaction to his father’s speech, Jared almost laughed aloud. Instead he said quietly, “There will be no boat yard built on Wyndsong, Father. The manor is an extremely prosperous farm and the horses bred there are justly famous. A boat yard would in a few short years render a green and fertile land barren. My inheritance would have little value then. Perhaps that matters little to you, but it matters greatly to me. If I destroy Wyndsong, what will my sons have?”

“You must marry to have sons, Jared,” said his mother, knowing an opportunity when she saw one.

“Another part of my news, Mother. I am to be married shortly. I came home particularly to invite you all to the wedding.”

“Mercy!” Elizabeth Lightbody Dunham fell back in her chair, her slender bosom heaving. Instantly her daughter, Bess Cabot, and her daughter-in-law, Charity, were fanning her and patting her wrists.

“Congratulations!” grinned Jonathan. “I have no doubt that she’s your match.”

“Brother Jon, you have no idea how near the truth you are.”

“You may be thirty, sir,” boomed John Dunham, “but I must
approve this match, or you’ll not get my blessing. You’ve studiously avoided every respectable girl in Plymouth since you were breeked; now you come home to tell me you’ve inherited Wyndsong and you’re getting married! Who the hell is this woman? Some fortune-hunting doxy, I’ve no doubt! You’ve never had any sense! Refusing to take your place in the yards here, running off to Europe all the time!”

Jared felt the anger well up in him, but he forced it down. It amused him to hear his father’s threat about a blessing. The old man had been nagging him to marry for years.

“I think,” he said, “you will approve my choice of a wife, Father. She is young, an heiress, and from a well-bred family whom you know personally. Like Jon, I fell in love at first sight.”

“The name of this paragon?”

“Miranda Dunham, Cousin Tom’s daughter.”

“By God, I
do
approve, Jared!”

“I am delighted that my choice meets with your approval,” said Jared wryly. The sarcasm eluded his father.

After a large family dinner the two brothers walked together in the back garden. Jared and his brother were almost identical in features. There was but a half-inch difference in their heights, Jared being a full six-feet three. Jared’s dark hair was cut short à la Brutus, whereas Jonathan wore his long and clubbed back. There were subtler differences. Jonathan’s step was not as long nor as confident; his hands were less elegant than Jared’s, and his eyes were gray-green in contrast to the bottle-green of Jared’s.

Jonathan Dunham came right to the point. “Love at first sight, Jared?”

“For me, yes.”

“So fate has finally dealt you the blow you so richly deserve, my heartbreaking brother. Tell me about Mistress Miranda Dunham. Is she petite, and blond and round like her Van Steen mama?”

“Her twin sister, Amanda, is. Amanda is to be wed next summer to a wealthy English milord.”

“If they are twins then they must look alike.”

“They are twins, but as different as night and day. Miranda is tall and willowy with sea-green eyes and silken hair like a silvery-gold moon. She is a fairy child, as innocent as a fawn, as
elusive as the wind. She is proud and defiant, and I will have my hands full, but I love her, Jon.”

“Good Lord, Jared, you
are
in love. I certainly never thought to see you brought low by the tender passion.”

Jared laughed good-naturedly. “She does not know how I feel, Jon.”

“Then why did you ask her to marry you?” Jonathan was puzzled.

His brother explained.

“So you’ve behaved like the perfect gentleman, eh, Jared?” Jonathan’s mouth was twitching. “What if she’d been as ugly as sin?”

“But she isn’t,” said Jared.

“Only reluctant. That’s a problem you’ve never faced before, brother.”

“She’s very young, Jon, and she’s been very sheltered despite a season in London.”

“And you love her! God help you, Jared!” Jonathan shook his head. “When is the wedding?”

“December sixth, on Wyndsong.”

“Good lord, you’re not wasting much time! What of the mourning period for Cousin Tom?”

“His will said he wanted no mourning past a month,” replied Jared. “I can’t leave the manor unattended over the winter, and I am too young to remain alone on the island with a lovely widow but twelve years my senior, and two young girls thirteen and a half years my junior. What a field day the gossips would have!

“So a wedding on St. Nicholas Day it will be for the fair Miranda and me, and you’re all invited. I’ve planned for you to go overland to New London, where the yacht will be waiting to take you across the Long Island Sound to Wyndsong. I’d like you to be there a week before the wedding so you can visit with Miranda and her family.”

“When are you going back?”

“In a few days. I’ll need the time to gentle my wildcat before you come. It was hard enough on her that I inherited Wyndsong, but my being involved in her father’s death was too much for her. We need to know each other better.”

“You couldn’t have found a sweet, quiet girl, could you, Jared?”

“Sweet quiet girls bore me.”

“I know,” grinned Jonathan Dunham. “Remember the time we followed Chastity Brewster …” and he was off on a reminiscence that soon had both brothers laughing uproariously.

A few days later Jared Dunham left Plymouth, and returned to Wyndsong Island. He sailed on the Dunham family yacht that Dorothea had thoughtfully sent up the coast to Buzzards Bay. A crewman had ridden overland to inform him that his own ship awaited him. Jonathan’s admiring glance surprised him, and Jared suddenly became fully aware of his new position.

The first time he’d approached Wyndsong he’d been too upset by his cousin’s death to notice the beauty of the island. Now he stood in the bow of his yacht, a stiff north wind at his back, and watched the island appear on the horizon. He remembered what Miranda had told him—that the first time their ancestor Thomas Dunham saw Wyndsong, he felt he was coming home. And so do I, Jared thought, surprised. I feel like I’m coming home.

He came ashore after giving orders to berth the yacht. It was a late October day and the hillsides were ablaze with full autumn color. The maples had begun to shed some of their leaves, and they crunched beneath his feet as he walked to the house. The red oaks, however, still clung stubbornly to all their leaves. Ajay screamed raucously at him from a gold birch tree. He laughed at the bird, then his eye caught movement at the top of the path. Miranda? Had she come to greet him?

In her hiding place behind the trees Miranda sat, holding Sea Breeze quiet, and watched him come up the path from the beach. She was unaware that he’d spotted her. She liked the easy, smooth way in which he moved. There was something reassuring about Jared.

Seeing him again after several weeks, her feelings became even more confused. She knew that Jared Dunham was a strong, good man with, she suspected, a spirit as proud and defiant as her own. He would be a good lord of the manor, and Papa had not been wrong in choosing him.

From a personal perspective, however, it was a different story. He threatened her, physically and emotionally, though she was loath to admit it even to herself. She had never battled feelings like this before. One moment she was lost in the memory of his
kiss, and then she would recall her helplessness and become angry. If only he would give her time. But there was no time. Sighing, she rode into the woods, suddenly not wanting to see him.

She rode the island until late that day, and he, understanding her need, remained in the house. Dorothea and Amanda regaled him with plans for the wedding, and he felt a distinct sympathy for Miranda. She did not arrive home until they were at dinner, coming into the dining room in her riding clothes.

“Oh,” she feigned surprise, “you’re back.” She slouched into her chair.

“Good evening, Miranda. I am delighted to be home, thank you,” he replied.

“May I have some wine?” she said, ignoring his sarcasm.

“No, my dear, you may not. In fact you will leave the table, and have a tray in your room. I will permit riding clothes at breakfast and luncheon, but not at my dinner table. I also expect punctuality in the evening.”

She gasped with outrage. “We are not married yet, sir!”

“No, we are not, Miranda, but I am head of this household. Now leave the table, miss!”

She stood abruptly and ran from the room and up the stairs to her bedchamber. Angrily she stripped off her clothes and bathed, swearing at the cold water. Later she put on her nightgown and climbed into bed. How dare he speak to her like that! She was being treated like a little girl! The door opened to admit Jemima with a tray. The maid placed her burden on the table by the fireplace.

BOOK: Unconquered
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