Unspoken Love (2 page)

As the townspeople settled in for the night, Jennifer Morgan drove the wagon to the Hearthside Inn on the outskirts of town. In the darkness, she led Bessie to the stables and sought out Davy, the stable hand. “Will you feed Bessie and give her a rubdown?”

Davy’s green eyes twinkled in the lamplight. He scratched his head, which was covered with thick, chestnut hair. “Right away, Miss Morgan,” replied the small-statured boy of fifteen.

Leaving Bessie in Davy’s care, Jenny entered through the back door and collided with her aunt, Thelma Smith.

Aunt Thelma grinned, no doubt at her tomboy attire, and gave her a hearty hug. “I’ve been waiting for you, Jennifer. Come into the kitchen, I’ll fix us a light supper.”

Jenny dropped into a chair by the large wooden table. She watched her short, plump aunt bustle about the room, putting together sliced beef sandwiches, fruit, and beverages for them.

Aunt Thelma set the food on the table and joined her. “I’ve never seen a storm such as the one that blew through the other day,” she said. “We are lucky to be alive. And you are such a dear, helping at the church.”

“It’s the least I can do, Aunt Thelma,” Jenny replied before biting into her sandwich.

“How’s my brother faring?” Thelma inquired.

“Father is doing fine, and Molly continues to pamper him.”

“I’m glad to hear he is doing better. She sent her an inquiring look. “Do you still have your heart set on owning your own business someday?”

“Oh, yes, Aunt Thelma, ever since Father let me accompany him on a trip up north when I was twelve. While he bantered with a merchant, I browsed in the store, touching delicate lace and satin. The pretty pink dried roses held a certain fascination for me, and I loved smelling the fragrant soaps.” Her lips parted into a dreamy smile. “From that day on, I knew that I wanted a shop similar to that one when I grew up.”

Aunt Thelma patted her hand. “Never give up your dream, even if it is a farfetched idea that others would scoff at,
if
they knew about it.” She leaned forward. “Your secret is safe with me.” Aunt Thelma shoved a strand of gray hair into her loosely woven bun. Her usually chipper blue eyes appeared tired. “We must retire, Jenny. It’s late, and I have to be up at dawn.” She sighed. “Poor Edward, he’s been so busy that I’ve not spoken with him all day! I do hope he is sleeping.” Aunt Thelma gave her a reassuring wink. “We’re so crowded that we have patrons sleeping on the floor, but I knew you’d be staying over tonight. So I saved your room again.”

Jenny knew because of its compact size, Aunt Thelma and Uncle Edward only put travelers in the room when the others were full. She insisted it was just fine for her when she came to town and had stayed there on several occasions.

Jenny stood and cleared the table. “Don’t let me detain you, Aunt Thelma. I enjoyed our visit. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Thelma untied her apron and tossed it on a hook then moseyed from the kitchen.

Soon Jenny sauntered down the corridor, her mind focusing on the injured people that she had nursed today. She collided into a hard-muscled patron and looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes danced with amusement as he steadied her. His fingers seared her skin with his touch. Heat rushed to her cheeks for her clumsiness. Of all people, she had bumped into Nicholas! Casting her eyes downward, she mumbled an apology. “I am forever tripping or falling!” she exclaimed.

Nicholas’s lips parted into a smile. “It’s my pleasure to catch you, Ma’am.”

Words failed Jenny. Finally, she managed to utter, “Goodnight, Mr. Grant,” then hurried to her room.

An interesting thought struck Nicholas as he watched Jenny race down the hall. She’d been curious enough about him to learn his name. Perhaps this day was not a total loss.

He stepped into his room and lit the lamp. Peeling off his shirt, he prepared for bed. From the corner of his eye, he saw a movement and looked down to see a black cat dart out from under the bed. “What the . . .?”

The cat leapt onto the dresser and knocked the lamp to the floor. Flames shot into the air, licking the drapes. Quickly Nicholas tossed a pitcher of water on the curtains, then yanked them from the window and stomped out the flames. He set the lamp back on the bureau and glanced around the room, catching sight of the furball sitting in the corner. The frightened feline watched him, its jade-colored eyes somehow reminding him of the woman who had bumped into him in the corridor.

He walked slowly toward the scared animal, stepping back abruptly as the nervous cat sprinted across the floor and jumped out of the window. Relieved to know the temporary stowaway wouldn’t cause him any more trouble, he closed the window.

Someone tapped at the door. He cracked the door and saw Bonita standing there.

“I know you aren’t expecting me, but I came to warm your bed,” she said seductively.

“Sorry, Bonita, I just had to deal with a near catastrophe, and I’m not in the mood for romance.”

Bonita stood in the corridor and stared at Nicholas. Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You have spurned my affections twice!” she scolded. “Other travelers enjoy my favors and pay me well. Of course, I have to sneak around while pleasuring these men or the righteous Thelma Smith would send me packing.” She pouted for a second then gave Nicholas a cynical look. “Do you think I am beneath your station because I’m a servant at the inn?”

“Not at all, Bonita. I’m just not up to it tonight.”

Her chin jutted upwards. “I saw you leave a certain woman’s room the other night. Maybe she—”

“That is not your concern, Bonita.”

She twirled her ebony hair around her finger, and her lips parted in a salacious grin. “It will be everyone’s concern if the town hears about it—”

“Our conversation is over,” Nicholas chastised and slammed the door shut.

Chapter 3

Nicholas sat in Jason Walker’s office and listened to him read his uncle’s last will and testament. Shaken at the lawyer’s words, he found that he needed a wife earlier than he planned.

“James Grant willed the plantation to you with the stipulation that you take a wife and remain married for one year. Of course, he hopes you will stay married. If after the year is up and you separate, the land will still be yours.” He went on to explain, “James was a family man at heart. As you know, he sired no children, but he yearned to do so. It was his dream to see a new generation farming the plantation that he had labored over. James is counting on you to carry on the Grant legacy.” Jason paused for a moment and then continued, “James was a good man, mind you, but a little eccentric. This will attest to his unconventional behavior.”

“I’m shocked at my uncle’s request,” Nicholas said, trying to make sense of it all. “I suppose he thought if I took a wife she would be with child by the years end.”

Jason perused the will again. “If that happens, your marriage will stand.”

“Marriage means a lifelong commitment, not a temporary arrangement. I am elated that Uncle James wants to will
Small Timbers
to me, but I feel blackmailed by his demands. What happens if I don’t comply?”

“The plantation would go to the State of Mississippi to be used however—”

“I can’t let the plantation slip through my fingers,” Nicholas interrupted. “I love
Small Timbers
. It’s my life’s blood.” He let out a deep breath. “I plan on marrying someday and raising a family but to find a wife so quickly seems impossible, even coldhearted.”

“I understand Nicholas, but it is your uncle’s request.” He paused for a moment. “It’s the only way to inherit the plantation.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to follow through with it.” He resigned himself to carry out his uncle’s request. He sat facing Jason, his back to the door. Drumming his fingers on the mahogany desk, he tried to plan his future, but the women he knew were not the marrying type.

While he contemplated his dilemma, Jennifer Morgan barged into the room.

“Oh, I am sorry, Jason. I didn’t realize you had a client already. Father wanted me to pick up some papers before I head back to the farm. He said you would know which ones.”

“I do, Jenny, come in,” the stodgy lawyer said. “Nicholas Grant, may I introduce you to Miss Jennifer Morgan.”

Rising from the chair, Nicholas turned and faced Jennifer. His robust frame filled the room as he extended his hand. His words were almost caressing. “Hello, Miss Morgan, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

No doubt he is!
Jenny thought, rankled by his complacent attitude. Had she not endured his ardent kisses and fiery touch upon her body? Her cheeks flushed as she was haunted by memories of his near ravishment of her. Despite the fact that he was extremely handsome and she had churned inside from the moment they met, he had taken liberties unbecoming of a gentleman. She felt Jason’s eyes upon her and knew she had to respond, lest she arouse his suspicion. With a slight nod of the head, she coolly replied, “Hello, Mr. Grant.”

Jason smoothed back his thinning brown hair. A look of puzzlement crossed his plain features.

“Where did I put those papers?” he mumbled. “It’s a good thing I store my files on the shelves, or they’d be saturated from the sodden floor that I had to contend with yesterday.” He gave Jenny and Nicholas a pensive look. “Perhaps you two can get acquainted while I search for the documents.”

Warily, Jenny eyed Nicholas as Jason sorted through his files. Jason eyed them through silver-rimmed spectacles. He cleared his throat and shuffled the papers. “Ah, here they are Jenny. Tell your father I’ll be out to see him soon. I hope his health is improving.”

Abruptly Jenny turned from Nicholas. Gathering the papers, she folded them and stuffed them into her reticule. “Again, I apologize for the intrusion, Jason.” She glanced back at Nicholas, noting how his eyes danced with amusement.

“The pleasure was all ours, Miss Morgan.”

Jenny’s cheeks flushed and her pulse quickened at his hidden meaning. Thanking Jason, she bid him farewell and then rushed out the door to escape Nicholas’s teasing.

“A lovely woman she is.” Jason sighed as Jenny exited the building.

“Tell me about her,” Nicholas insisted.

“Jennifer Morgan lives with her father in the country. They own a small livestock farm.”

“Is Jenny married?” Nicholas interrupted, his mind racing for more information.

“No. Thomas Morgan wants Jenny to marry, but she won’t hear of it. She was twenty on her last birthday. Women her age have husbands and are strapped with children but not Jenny. She’s an independent filly. Oh, I reckon she’ll marry someday, but it has to be of her own choosing.” His blue eyes danced as he lowered his voice and continued, “If I were a mite younger and not a confirmed bachelor, I’d ask Jenny to marry me.”

Nicholas chuckled and shoved his hat on his head. “Good day, Jason.” With an air of confidence, he strode to the door and made a hasty departure. He walked the distance to the church in search of Jennifer. Encountering Doc Jones, he asked of Jenny’s whereabouts.

“Jenny left for the farm. She has a special way with my patients. I could use her talents more often.” The doctor sent Nicholas a speculative glance. “Pardon my boldness, Nicholas, but are you taking a fancy to Jenny?”

There was a glint in Nicholas’s eyes. “Let’s just say my intentions are honorable. Where does Jenny live?”

The kindly doctor smiled. “About two hours east of here. The farm is located on a slope. You can’t miss it. Jenny stays with her ailing father.”

“Thanks, Doc, I may pay the lady a visit.” Tipping his hat, he moved on to the stables, hoping to catch Jenny before she reached home. He mounted Dexter, a fine chestnut-colored stallion, and rode hard until he caught up with her.

Jenny pulled Bessie to a halt. Planting her feet firmly on the buckboard, she stood up and rested her hands on her hips.

“Why are you following me?”

Nicholas’s deep voice cut into the once peaceful, sunny day now fraught with tension. Jenny’s mouth flew open in protest as he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her from the wagon. He steadied her on her feet.

“I’ve come to propose to you.”

“I must be going daft. I distinctly thought you said you were going to propose
—
”

“Be quiet and listen,” he cautioned and released her. Leaving nothing unsaid, he relayed everything about his inheritance. Summing up, he said, “You can see why you are my first choice.”

“Well, I refuse your offer. How could you expect me to marry you? I don’t know you, and I certainly don’t love you.” She started for the wagon, but Nicholas seized her arm.

“You don’t understand. I’ve been honest with you, and I need your help. But if you don’t consent to marry me—”

She raised an eyebrow. “But what?” she demanded to know.

“Bonita threatened to spread rumors about me sharing your chamber.”

“What would Bonita have to gain by starting such gossip?” She didn’t expect him to answer. She knew all too well about Bonita’s jealous streak.

“My father is ill and can’t stand the shock of hearing about such conduct, even if it isn’t true.”

Concern edged its way into Nicholas’s voice. “The respectable thing for you to do is marry me.”

“You’re insufferable!”

“Call me what you will, but I have a contract to honor, and that’s what I’m going to do. After a year, you will be free to go. I’ll compensate you handsomely for your trouble and inconvenience,” he said.

“You want to pay me for marrying you?” Jenny gasped.

“It’s not like it sounds. My reason for choosing you is twofold. I know I can take you into my confidence. We will marry to keep your name reputable, and I won’t have to contend with a conniving wife who, at the end of the year, will not divorce me.” A look of disdain came over Jenny as he continued, “I’m convinced that you would be more than willing to release me from a marriage contract. Now do I have your cooperation?”

Jenny digested his words carefully. “A divorce would crush father worse than the gossip Bonita could spread.”

He gave her a sympathetic look. “I mean no disrespect, but if your father has health issues, he may not even be living by year’s end? If he is, we will work something out. It is not my intention to hurt any of you.”

“What about
my
respectability?”

“What about your reputation
now
?” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’ll build a home for you on the plantation or set you up in finery wherever your heart desires.”

“My heart desires to stay at the farm. P
eriod
.” He gave her a resolute look, and she knew he wouldn’t relent. She realized the consequences if she didn’t cooperate. She didn’t want to upset her father and see him regress. As crazy as it seemed, her father would probably be thrilled at the news. Just last week he had offered to find her a suitable husband and even suggested Blake Preston as a possible suitor. Her father was forever meddling in her affairs, but she knew he meant well. She recalled telling him that Blake and she were friends. Now, standing before her is a gentleman of some wealth who could offer her security.

She gazed up at Nicholas. He focused on her with intensity, waiting for an answer. She made one more effort to keep him out of her life. “Surely you can find someone more compatible. If you recall, Mr. Grant, I was an innocent victim the other night. It was you who detained me in bed in an attempt to defile me.”

“But you, dear Jennifer Morgan, came to
my
chamber and got into
my
bed wearing only your unmentionables. That’s not very becoming of a lady of respectability.”

Jenny cringed at his stinging words and again thought of Molly’s warning.
I am not a harlot
! A vexed expression stole over her features as his proposal drummed in her head.
He is demanding that I become his bride
!

“Do you realize what you are asking of me? To leave my home and take up residence with you?”

“I do.”

“How do I know Father won’t have a relapse if I tell him I’m engaged?”

“Wouldn’t it bother him more if he thought you had been in bed with me?”

She knew Nicholas was immovable. An idea inched its way into her thoughts. If she did, in fact, marry Nicholas and he paid her for being his temporary wife, she would have enough money to open the women’s boutique she had been dreaming of. After some serious contemplation, she sighed with resignation. “You win,” she said, barely above a whisper. Her manner changed, and she eyed him with contempt. “Don’t think to exercise any husbandly rights. I fully expect to leave this marriage as I came.”

Nicholas tossed his head back in laughter. His throaty deep voice caused Jenny’s face to cloud with anger.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’m entering into a business venture with you. I don’t need to marry someone to sleep with them.” She reflected on their arrangement as he continued, “We’ll go to your father’s home together, and you will introduce me as your fiancé. Tell your father we will marry within the week.”

“A week?” Jenny exclaimed.

“Correct.” He grinned. “Did anyone ever tell you the tip of your nose twitches when you pronounce certain words?”

“We have more important things to discuss than my nose.”

Nicholas chuckled and gazed down at her.

“I like your spirit.” He softened toward her, but only for a moment. “Let’s get going. The sooner I marry you, the quicker I gain my rightful inheritance.”

Hurt and angry, Jenny’s thoughts ran rampant as she guided Bessie up the steep lane leading to the farm. As the wagon wheels churned homeward, she reflected on her dilemma. When she had set out for Greenville the other day, she certainly hadn’t expected a marriage proposal from a stranger! How could she go through with this farce? Nicholas was forcing her to take sacred vows that only those in love should pledge. He would have his way, and she could do little about it for she loved her father above all else and would not see him suffer.

When they arrived at Jennifer’s home, William, the stable hand, came from the barn. Jenny sent the dedicated worker a genuine smile. He treated her as if she were his own kin. “Hello, Miss Morgan, welcome home,” he said kindly. He nodded to Nicholas, then guided Bessie to the stables. Unhitching her from the wagon, he loudly remarked, “Land sakes, Bessie, you look like you’ve been wallowing with pigs! You got mud caked from one end to the other! I’ll be all day scrubbing you down.” He reached into his pocket, brought out an apple, and shined it on his sleeve. “First, a little something for you,” he said less gruffly. Bessie was his favorite mare, and he couldn’t treat her with anything but kindness.

Jenny turned her gaze to a cluster of cabins that housed the laborers. They, too, stood in need of repair from the ravages of the storm. The men removed damaged boards while the women emptied buckets of water that had collected in their lodgings. Turning from the devastation, she took a deep breath and said, “Let’s go into the house, Nicholas.”

Molly glanced up to see them step into the foyer. A curious expression crossed her pleasant features when Jenny and Nicholas approached her. She set aside her dusting cloth and beeswax.

“Molly, this is Nicholas Grant,” Jenny said, barely able to remain civil as she glanced into his compelling green eyes. “Nicholas, this is Molly Hayden, our dear friend and housekeeper. Molly has practically raised me since my mother’s passing.”

Nicholas stepped forward and took Molly’s hand. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Miss Hayden.”