Spring Blossom (33 page)

“The girl is lazy!”

Maggie flung Anna’s arm away. “Stay away,
Anna,” she ordered harshly. “Just get away from me for a
moment.”

Hunter had followed his wife into the room
and had gone to Florence’s side once he’d determined that Maggie
was dealing well enough on her own. He was kneeling amongst the
splattered food and the broken china with the girl clinging to his
shirtfront.

Maggie knelt beside him. “Florence, let me
see, darling,” she said softly, although anger made it difficult
for her to control her voice. The shy girl of thirteen turned a
cheek that was livid red toward her older sister. Maggie winced
when she saw the clear mark of a handprint and raised her eyes to
her husband. “Did she hit her head?” she asked, raising a gentle
hand to search for signs.

“Apparently not,” Hunter returned grimly.
“Fortunately.”

And then, before Hunter could blink, his
petite wife whirled away to face the housekeeper again. Clearly she
wasn’t through with the woman yet. Once again he felt a swell of
pride in his chest as he watched his sweet love in a royal rage of
action.

Maggie clenched both hands at her sides in
an attempt not to do bodily damage to the older woman she
confronted. “Has this happened before?” she asked tight-lipped.

Anna stared defiantly. “I told you…the girl
does not do as she is told.”

“I asked you a question and I expect an
answer, Anna,” Maggie shot back. “Have you struck her before?”

Anna chose to remain mute on the point and
crossed her arms over her ample bosom.

Maggie examined the older woman from head to
toe and then, with a squaring of her shoulders, came to a decision.
Stepping forward, hand extended, palm up, she said quietly but
firmly, “Give me your keys.”

“What for?”

“I want your keys and I want you packed and
out of this house within the hour.”

Anna, obviously stunned, could barely speak.
“You can’t…”

“I just did, Ann,” Maggie said evenly.
“Out…within the hour.”

The woman ungraciously flung her small ring
of keys toward the stove and stormed out of the room.

Maggie sighed and bowed her head momentarily
before turning to meet the eyes of her husband.

He was smiling!

Jennifer chose that moment to storm the
Bastille. The outer kitchen door banged against the wall as she
entered. Executing an abrupt stop, the girl stared down at the
sight of Hunter and Florence wallowing in spoiled food and broken
china. “What…?”

Before Jennifer could say another word,
Hunter got to his feet and helped Florence up.

Jennifer, still looking dumbfounded, caught
sight of her sister’s bruised face. “What happened, Flo?” she asked
softly.

“I fell.”

“Before or after Anna hit you?” Jennifer
asked bluntly.

Maggie turned toward her youngest sister.
“This has happened before?”

Jennifer shrugged her slim shoulders. “A few
times.”

Maggie was completely stunned. “But why
didn’t Papa do something about it?”

“Florence would never tell and she wouldn’t
let me tell either. She said we needed somebody to cook and, if we
said anything at all, Anne would only get meaner.”

Florence was straightening her skirt while
trying to regain control over her emotions. But, before she could
find the courage to hold her head up, Maggie lifted her chin
high.

“You must never allow this to happen to you
again, Florence,” she said softly. “You are a good person and a
beautiful girl. You are strong in your own right and you will never
again allow anyone to harm you. We’ll teach you, Hunter and I. I
won’t allow you to become a victim, too.”

*

Hunter Maguire trudged wearily up the stairs
to join his wife in their room. For the past four hours he had been
looking forward to some quiet moments alone with her. He felt as if
he had aged a score of years in the short time they had been at
Treemont. Emotion had been running high over several events and the
bad news he had uncovered in reviewing Alastair’s books weighed
heavily upon him.

He entered the room quietly and closed the
door, then crossed the room to where she sat on the edge of the
bed, brushing her hair. “Hello,” he whispered, placing the palm of
one hand on her cheek before he bent to lightly kiss her lips.

He straightened then, tugging his shirt out
of the waist-band of his trousers as he walked to a chair and sat
down to tug off his boots.

Maggie’s eyes followed him with sympathy;
she could actually feel his fatigue. “It’s been a terrible day,”
she offered.

He smiled at her as he dropped one boot to
the floor. “Not all of it, my love,” he said in what she deemed a
most lecherous tone.

Her face colored and she turned her head
away from him, raising the hairbrush once again, as she thought of
their morning lovemaking.

Hunter laughed at her embarrassment. “I was
referring to the fact that you told me you loved me,” he teased,
and she turned back to him laughing softly at her own stupidity.
“Well…the love-making was a tiny ray of sunshine in an otherwise
stormy day,” he added.

She threw the hairbrush at him.

He laughed again and ducked as the thing
sailed past his shoulder, then got him on the rebound as it bounced
off the wall and hit him squarely between the shoulder blades.

Maggie raced across the room and fell to her
knees beside him. “Oh, Hunter, I’m sorry!” she cried, running her
hand down his back and looking for damage.

“I’m all right, little goose,” he
laughed.

“I didn’t mean to hit you! I threw it
wide.”

“God help me if you ever take aim,” he
teased. Her eyes turned to his, and when he saw her honest, painful
remorse, he touched her cheek again. “Don’t be silly,” he
whispered. “I know you were playing.” He kissed the tip of her nose
and turned his attention to the removal of his other boot.

Maggie’s chin dropped down to rest on her
hand, which gripped the wooden arm of his chair; she and Denise had
removed the two small boudoir chairs earlier in the day and
replaced them with this far sturdier one for Hunter.

“Is Anna gone?” she asked, watching the play
of muscles across his shoulders and down his arm as he moved.

“Well and truly,” he muttered with
feeling.

“I just can’t believe that woman was
mistreating Florence and my father didn’t know about it.”

“Florence allowed it to continue, pet, and
that is a sad state of affairs. She even forced Jennifer to remain
silent. Both girls may have feared things could get worse if they
told anyone. Who knows what that woman said to them…what she
threatened,” he added gently as he settled back, his chest and feet
now bare. He rested his forearm on her shoulder as he toyed with
her freshly brushed hair. “We shall have to give Florence a good
deal of love and coaching. The girl needs to develop her
self-esteem and confidence.”

“If she gets attention from you,” Maggie
said softly, “she’ll be all right.”

His hand stilled and he stared at her for a
long, breathless moment. “You mean that, don’t you?” he asked,
obviously taken aback.

“I’m a lucky girl,” she said emotionally,
her forehead dropping to rest against his ribs. “I’m grateful for
whatever made you come back for me.”

Hunter tugged gently on a handful of hair
until Maggie raised her head and looked at him. “It was pure
selfishness, pure greed, that made me come back. I wanted the
loveliest, liveliest, and sweetest woman any man could imagine
taking to wife.” Maggie rose up quickly and threw her arms around
his neck. “And she’s a hussy, too,” he teased. She laughed at that
and he realized how much he enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

It was an honest and earnest few moments
between them; a time of expressing by sight and touch those things
that were often difficult to put into words. It was as if each
could see beyond the flesh and bone of the other’s chest and say,
‘See, this heart beats only for you’. It was a moment of profound
emotion, of extreme sensation that neither had ever experienced
before, something that neither had ever envisioned possessing.

And then Maggie was standing before him,
pulling on his hands and forcing him to stand. “You said you would
teach me to love you.” She dropped her hands to the waistband of
his trousers.

“I have the distinct feeling that you
already know how, my darling,” he breathed as she made him
naked.

She stood back from him then, her eyes
slowly perusing his fine, muscular body, and enjoying the fact that
she was feeling absolutely no shame as she gazed at him. He was
hers, after all, and she was proud of that.

She gave a quick tug on the small pink
ribbon on her bodice, shrugged with an exaggerated movement, and
stood before him in an equal sate of undress.

“Is this terribly wicked?” she asked,
watching his eyes glow in the meager light of the single lamp.

“Perfectly,” he murmured. “Beautifully,” he
added as he took his time admiring her body.

Maggie was not certain how to initiate their
lovemaking. There seemed to be a difference between lying naked
with him and having him stand so boldly before her. And he was a
bold one. Eventually she found her courage and stepped carefully
out of the gown that was pooled at her feet before taking the few
steps remaining between them. When she stood close enough to feel
the heat of him radiating toward her she raised her hands and let
them rest on his narrow hips. When Hunter failed to touch her in
return, Maggie smiled up at him. “You aren’t going to help me at
all with this, are you?”

He shook his head, his gaze gentle but
serious in his growing anticipation of what they were about to
share. “You’ve touched me before,” he said. “You mustn’t feel shy
about touching me now.”

“It’s different, now that I understand how
much I love you,” she murmured.

“How is it different?”

“It’s suddenly very important that I make
you happy,” she returned quietly, adding almost inaudibly, “that I
please you.”

“Don’t you understand that I feel the same
way?”

Maggie looked momentarily stunned by the
softly spoken revelation, but as soon as she reasoned it out, she
understood.

“It’s all curious and frightening and
magical,” she said as her hand roamed up his chest. Then she was
pulling his head down, slowly down toward her slightly parted
lips.

Hunter groaned as his arms went around her,
pulling her close against him. He was already aching for her but he
sought to control the urge to enter her before she had fully
exercised her powers over the moment; this was Maggie’s moment.

She guided him to the bed, and what took
place there was a true test of two bodies straining to be together
while they tortured each other by remaining apart.

And eventually the test had gone too far.
Maggie could barely breathe as she looked down at him, her ample
breasts pressed against his massive chest. “I want you now,” she
said raggedly.

Hunter lay on his back, barely able to keep
from groaning as the heat from her ice-blue eyes bored into his
heated gaze. “Then take me,” he whispered and smiled at her
puzzlement. “I’ll show you, love,” he breathed as he guided her up
and over him. “Easy now,” he instructed, and her eyes widened with
the pure, sweet sensation of taking him into herself in this
manner. Then he touched her, and coached her into moving freely.
Soon Maggie exploded into a thousand shards, as her spine stiffened
and her head fell back.

Watching her and feeling her body tighten
around him was more that Hunter could bear. His restraint tested
beyond reason, he pushed his hips into the mattress and then thrust
upward, finding his own exquisite release. His body continued to
shudder even as Maggie fell upon his chest.

It was several moments before their harsh
breathing returned to normal. Maggie, her cheek pressed to his,
murmured, “It’s a good thing I don’t discover I’m in love every
day. I don’t think I would survive.”

He laughed softly and the palm of his hand
connected playfully with her backside. “You will discover love
every day…with me!”

“You’re arrogant,” he teased.

“Damn right.”

She eased off him then, but Hunter did not
remove his arms from around her and Maggie fell limply on her side
close against him. “How can this be, do you suppose?” she murmured,
“This special thing between us?”

“I imagine all lovers feel this way,” he
returned philosophically.

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Don’t
you believe this is special?” she demanded, raising herself up on
one elbow to better see his eyes.

“I think it’s very special, my darling. But
others have probably gone before us.”

“Oh, pooh!”

He laughed. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t very
romantic of me, was it?”

“No.”

“I’ll try to do better,” he teased, his hand
lightly stroking her arm. “Perhaps you could teach me.”

Maggie laughed, too. “I would throw
something at you again, but I’m afraid of a catastrophe.”

“So am I,” he admitted, and she settled down
against him, her fingers stroking slow, small circles on his chest
as they both drifted into their own private thoughts.

“I supposed I’ve done a foolish thing,
firing Anna that way?” she reflected after a time. Maggie could
feel his head moving on the pillow before he replied.

“You did exactly the right thing, as far as
I’m concerned,” he said firmly. “And you know you were right. I
thought you were magnificent.” He lifted his head a fraction and
smiled down at her. “Did I tell you that before?”

“No you didn’t, but it makes me feel better
to hear it.” She said. “However, we are now in a real pickle.” She
settled more comfortably, using him as a pillow. “You know the
limit of my cooking skills and we have to have a nice supper for
Denise and Tim.” Maggie enjoyed the feel of his hand roaming up and
down her back for a moment before asking, “Do you think we should
advertise in town for a new housekeeper?”