Captain Of Her Heart (31 page)

A war of will raged within him, and she ached to press her cause.  Alternating between what she suspected was nothing more than feigned disinterest and tangible enthusiasm he furrowed his brow.

“All right.”  With a boyish, shy grin, he shrugged.  “If that is your wish, then I will reinstall myself in our quarters, tonight.”

Familiar hunger blossomed in the pit of her gut, and she longed to make love to her husband.  But she would wait, as she had something remarkable reserved for her man.  “You know it is near my usual nap time.  I can postpone my journey into town, until later this afternoon, if you would care to partake of a brief respite from your work.”

“You tempt me, beyond reason.”  To her dismay, he released her and sank into the high-back chair behind his desk.  “Given your expensive restoration of our home, I must reorganize our finances.  And now that we are tasked with an unforeseen wedding celebration, I must shuffle some funds.”

“Are we in trouble?”  Never had she spared a thought for money, as her brother possessed a seemingly endless supply of the necessary evil.  “What of my dowry?”

“It is deposited for our children, and I would not spend it.”  He gave his attention to a large ledger.  “But worry not, as we will survive.  I have worked for everything I own, and I have yet to sink a ship.”

“Why did you not tell me, as I could have offered Molly one of my old gowns, and we can improvise floral displays from our gardens.”  Alex perched before the desk.  “The burden is not yours alone to carry.  We are married, in sickness and in health.  Do you not remember our vows?”

“But you made no oath.  At our ceremony, you stood quiet.”  He calculated a sum and scribbled the total in the log.  “Take Molly shopping for the frock and flowers, as we are not paupers.  And everything will be fine, once we reap the rewards of our transatlantic timber deal with Everett, and the lease of my retail property in London is completed.”

Jason could not have known it, but he had just struck upon her grand scheme, and so she took no offense to his insult, as his assertion was true.  But Alex would no longer remain silent.

#

The sun shone amid an unblemished sky of pure cerulean, and dew-tipped blades of grass glittered as a blanket of countless diamonds, as the nanny and the stablemaster’s wedding day dawned.  In the master suite, Alex basked in the warm light, as she gazed out the mullioned window overlooking the back lawn.

While Jason had returned to their bed, and he held her every night, he had not permitted her to pleasure him, and she had realized how much she valued his happiness, as it inextricably intertwined with hers.  An invisible but nonetheless powerful connection imprisoned them in palpable sadness, and she resolved to break free.

At the long mirror, she turned left and then right, examining every aspect of her reflection.  A burgundy gown of sumptuous velvet encased her full figure, and her dark brown locks had been swept into a cascade of curls.  Satisfied with the outcome of her efforts, she sat at her vanity and dabbed a few drops of her favorite French perfume, which her husband had proclaimed drove him well nigh insane, to her pulse points.

“Perfect.”  She winked at her image.  “Jason Collingwood, tonight, you are mine.”

As she trudged forth into battle, Alex felt like her old self, again, and she rejoiced.  Her husband had described her as generous, and she could not argue his observation.  No matter what the outcome, she would never lament her second pursuit of love.  While her captain had not proclaimed his unequivocal devotion, she would make her declaration without fear, hesitation, or regret.

In the foyer, her prey, resplendent in his coat of Bath superfine, awaited their guests, and she assumed her place at his side.  “Any sign of the vicar or the happy couple?”

“Mr. Avery is in the drawing room.  Molly is in the back parlor, chewing her nails and pacing.”  Jason chuckled.  “When I last spied Tom, he was revisiting his breakfast in one of the horse stalls.”

“Then all we need is the parents of the bride and groom.”  She clutched his arm, inclined her head, and batted her lashes.  “And how handsome you look in your formalwear, Captain Collingwood.  I never could resist you in such attire.”

A red flush contrasted with his white cravat, and the charming blush spread to his cheeks.  In that instant, Alex had scored a direct hit, and she marked her first victory.  She would require several more, were she to succeed in her endeavor.

As if on cue, a traveling coach bobbed along the driveway and halted in the forecourt.  Her husband escorted her to the landing, but he paused at the edge of the threshold.

“Dearest, while we have yet to settle our problems, I ask that we put aside our differences, for Tom and Molly.”  Jason frowned and shuffled his feet.  “Please, Alex.  I would not ruin their special day.”

“It appears we are on the same page, sir.”  She could have taken offense to his insult, but she had more important things on her mind, so she forgave the slight as fast as he had uttered it.  “And this is a momentous occasion, in more ways than one, and I would not spoil it for anything in the world.”

“Thank you, darling.”  With a half-hearted smile, he gave his attention to their guests.  “Mr. and Mrs. Duckett, Mr. and Mrs. Penniman, welcome to Stratfield Manor.”

After quick introductions, the wedding party withdrew to the drawing room, which boasted vivid sprays of red roses mixed with autumn mums, where Molly reunited with her parents.  Hugging the shadows, Alex yielded the spotlight to the nanny and focused on her seaman.  From a vase, she drew a single red rose, broke the stem, and strolled to her husband.

“Allow me, most cherished Captain.”  Once she affixed the bud to his coat, she splayed her hands across his chest, and he rewarded her with a sharp intake of breath.  “Perfection.”

“Indeed?”  With a countenance of confusion, he furrowed his brow.  “Is it safe to assume I pass inspection?”

“I would not say that.”  She leaned near and whispered, “But I shall be too delighted to give you a thorough examination, tonight.”

In an instant, she noticed the stillness investing his frame and the hunger burning in his gaze.  He wanted her, as she wanted him.  “My lady wife, I am most definitely at your service.”

“Shall we begin the ceremony?”  Mr. Avery, the local vicar, cleared his throat and opened the
Book of Common Prayer
.  “Everyone, take your respective places.”

Positioned, side-by-side, behind Molly and Tom, Jason and Alex stood as a united front, to witness the nanny and the stablemaster’s union.  Myriad sensations kissed her flesh, as she teetered on the precipice of a renewed leap of faith.

When Mr. Avery recited the first oath, she clutched Jason’s hand, squeezed his fingers until he met her stare, and she mouthed, at the correct moment,
I do
.

And so Lady Alexandra Elizabeth Seymour Collingwood pledged her oath to her captain, some eight and a half months after her wedding, but better late than never.  Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Jason smiled and dipped his chin.  At last, she declared in a small voice, “My heart will be your shelter, and my arms will be your home.”

It was a commitment made in love, kept in faith, lived in hope, and always made new.

Tears of inexpressible joy welled, as Jason mirrored her actions and made his affirmations, in time with Tom.  When the vicar asked for the ring, Alex almost fainted, when her husband retrieved a stunning band, bearing a large sapphire fringed with diamonds, from his waistcoat pocket.  As Mr. Avery officiated the nuptials, Jason slipped the precious bauble on her finger and winked.

“...I now pronounce you husband and wife.”  The vicar closed the book and adjusted his spectacles.  “You may kiss the bride.”

Without warning, her shameless sailor grabbed her about the waist, tipped back her head, and well nigh devoured her, in full view of their guests.  A chorus of feminine giggles and male chuckles brought them up for air.

“Oh, dear.  I do apologize.”  Alex bit her lip and glanced at the vicar.  “Captain Collingwood and I quite enjoyed the celebration.”

“No apologies necessary, your ladyship.”  Mr. Avery snickered.  “One could argue you still qualify as newlyweds.”

Together, the party crowded Tom and Molly to extended felicitations, and the bridegroom wiped his wife’s tearstained cheeks.

“Shall we remove to the dining room?”  Jason ushered the gathering into the hall but Alex stayed him.  “We have much to celebrate.”

“Indeed.”  Alex turned her husband to face her, and then she rubbed his crotch and could have shouted with pleasure when she found him hard as a rock.  “As I have festivities planned for well into the night.”

#

In the elegant dining room, amid an assortment of hothouse blooms, and the finest table linens, china, and silverware, Jason popped the cork on a bottle of champagne, as he wrangled with the one-eyed pirate that had popped up in his breeches.  Reminding himself to keep his coat buttoned, lest he scandalize the wedding party, he poured the bubbling liquid into crystal glasses.  Although he had yet to partake of the intoxicating concoction, he was already drunk.

From the scent of his wife’s perfume.

From the tantalizing view of her décolletage.

Had he mistaken Alex’s intent, or had he read her true aim?  From whichever angle he approached his conundrum, it appeared his tempting vixen, long absent, had made a stunning, most unexpected but prayed for return.  And every time he had convinced himself he had imagined her bold behavior, she favored him with a heated stare that deuced near fired the cannon in his crotch.

When Molly’s father toasted the bride and groom, none of which Jason heeded, because Alex had captured him, he availed himself of the chance to adjust himself, as he well nigh exploded.  Seated to his immediate left, within striking distance, the source of his torment moved with the grace and ease of the confident woman who had claimed him that memorable night in the Richmond’s ballroom, more than two years ago.

With a casual brush of her hand and a sultry, come-hither expression, she had branded him hers.  Even now, after all that time, she owned him, body and soul.  And she was his, by decree.

“Captain Collingwood, shall I serve dinner?”  Phipps stood upright.

“Please, do so.”  Jason nodded once.

“May I serve you, darling?”  Doe-eyed, Alex licked her lips.

“Oh, yes.”  Gritting his teeth, he swallowed a groan and clenched his gut, as he teetered on the verge of sweet release.  Beneath the table, he crossed his legs.

“Would you favor some meat, as it is very tender and juicy?”  And there was the smile that roused every inch of him to full alert.  But he almost fell out of his chair, when she imparted, in a low tone, “Just like you.”

“Alex, I—” Jason jumped, when she sashayed her slippered foot to his calf, and almost knocked over his champagne.  Bloody hell, he would be hard until Christmas.

“Is something wrong, love?”  She blinked, as would an innocent.

“Uh, no.”  In search of a distraction, he picked up his fork and plowed through his food, without bothering to taste the fare.  When he had cleaned his plate, he summoned Phipps and portioned himself another robust helping, yet his hunger burgeoned beyond his control.

Then Jason chastised himself, in silence.  Perhaps he had read too much into his wife’s curious behavior.  How long had he yearned to weigh anchor in her harbor?  Given his none-too-successful courtship had failed to achieve the desired results, he reconsidered his conclusions.  And that was his thought, as Alex leaned close, as if to impart a bit of private conversation, just as he had taken a gulp of champagne.

“I want you.”  And concealed by the expensive linens, she walked a naughty path with her fingers and stroked his erection.  “And I intend to consummate our vows—tonight.”

Jason choked violently, as there was no mistaking her statement.  Pounding his fist to the table, he declared, “Bring on the dessert.”

But the events could not have moved swift enough for Jason, and he simmered in a seemingly endless state of arousal, as Phipps opened another bottle of champagne.  He cheered, as Molly and Tom cut the cake, Jason laughed, as the groom fought to conceal a nervous twitch, when he thanked his employers for hosting the wedding ceremony and feast.

The sun sank below the yardarm, and the lamps were lit, as the Ducketts regaled the guests with stories of the nanny’s youthful adventures.  In turn, the Penniman’s shared tales of Tom’s exploits, and Jason wanted to scream.  But he found salvation in his pregnant ally, when she pushed from the table and stood.

“Please, do not feel you must end your celebrations on my account, but I must retire, by your leave.”  Alex hugged her belly.  “I have little energy, these days.  Phipps can show you to your traveling coach, when you are ready.”

In unison, the partygoers composed a choral of understanding, compassion, and appreciation.

“Of course, you may be excused, sweetheart.”  Jason vacated his seat and strolled to her side.  “Should I see you to our chamber?”

“That is not necessary.”  When he bent to kiss her forehead, she whispered, “Do not make me wait too long.”

To his infinite thanks, Molly made her farewells, with a shy smile at her new husband, and the parents offered their congratulations.  Propriety be damned, Jason all but ran them out of the house.  At last, he adjourned to the study, with Tom, who appeared on the verge of swooning.

“I think you need a brandy.”  As it was customary for the bridegroom to grant his bride a deferment on their wedding night, Jason assumed his duty, with a benevolent spirit, and passed the lad a balloon of the amber liquid.  “Here.  It will fortify you and calm your nerves.”

“I am not nervous, Cap’n.”  To Jason’s surprise, the stablemaster downed the contents in a single gulp and then commenced a wicked coughing fit.

“Of course, not.”  Chuckling, he refilled the gadling’s glass.  “You are a pillar of strength.”

“Thank you.”  Again, Tom emptied the balloon and then set it atop the desk.

“Better?”  Jason bit his tongue to keep from laughing, aloud.