Bittersweet Endeavors (23 page)

“Marry me,
Myra
.  Be my wife.”

“M
arriage?” 
Myra
looked at him thoughtfully and turned away.  She
stood and
walked
toward the trees and leaned
against a
large, ominous looking
oak
.  Her
face pressed
alongside
its
cool
bark.  The
stolen moments
they share
d
together
c
ould
only
be that, moments.
Myra
realized that long ago.
 

“We c
an't,” she whispered.  She couldn't love anyone more than she did Seth, and although
she dreamt of
the moment he’d ask her hand,
she knew it
’d
remain a
dream.  Anvil wouldn't ever accept her into the Preston family, and Seth
couldn
’t
be happy, not truly, if he lost his father’s respect.  He’d one day resent her for it.

“There is just so much you don’t understand, Seth.”  How could she ever marry Seth and not tell him of her past?  She already
denied
the c
laims
when asked
and felt best
leaving it
as
it was
, the past.
  And what if she
had
the courage
and told him
the truth?  He
’
d
feel obliged
to
procur
e
their
future children’s rights
of
title
, especially since
her uncle
was
the last of their line
and
notably known as not being
capable of
producing
children
for
heir
s
.  If Seth
didn’t
pursue it,
Anvil would push him into doing so.  And that would involve a confron
tation with
her uncle
.
 
If Seth was harmed,
or killed,
s
he couldn’t bear
the pain
of his loss
.  Although he
was
strong and quite cunning in his own right, she
didn’t know if
he could handle someone as
dastardly
as her uncle.  What if she lost Seth in the process, as she had lost her parents? 
Nay
, she wouldn’t think about it, nor would she tell Seth the truth
about
her past. 
Not unless
Mary
was
found
safe
and
the
world
was ridden
of
h
er uncle
. 
If that time came, the
n
she would she tell him the truth.

“
Nay
, I cannot marry you, Seth.”

“You don’t want to marry me?”
H
e frowned and his hand raked though his disheveled blond hair. 
S
he
hurt him
,
greatly,
and
his pai
n
broke her heart
, especially when he
had
brought
so much pleasure into her life
.

“What’s wrong with the way things are now, Seth?  We’re happy, are we not?” 

When Seth to
ok a step toward
her, she walked away
, and used
the tree as a blockade between him. 
It was difficult
to refuse
his proposal
when Seth stood so close
to
her
. 
Something her heart truly
wished
she could do.

“There’s a lot wrong with the way things are now,
Myra
!”  Exasperated, his hand swept across his face and then clinched tightly at his sides.  “Every time I see you, I want you in
my arms and
wish we could
make love, you
must
know that.”  He firmly held her arms in a grip that poured out his desperation.  “Yet, until I can properly
bed you
as
my wife
, I
ca
nnot
dishonor you.”

“There’s no dishonor in us making love, Seth.  Whether
you take me as your wife or not,
tis
only you
who shall
ever
be in my heart.  I belong to you
, always
.”  She leaned against him until her lips touched his
and she
incite
d
a passionate kiss.  His arms gathered her close and she suggestively writhed within his hold. 

“Please,” she said as her words flirted against his lips.  “Make love to me
now
, Seth
. 
We’ll not make our desires for one another wai
t any longer
.”
Some foreboding
intuitional
sense
deep within her
warned
the
y
may not
have
another chance.

His arm went behind her knees and
he
lifted her into his arms.  He cradled her
against
his chest and
he
stared
lovingly at her, but hesitancy
shadowed his eyes. 

“We can’t,
Myra
.
”  But
when
she wrapped her arms around him, and
her body melded
against him
, he moaned as if pained. 
“Are you sure
you want to do this
?”

“
Aye
,
”
she whispered.
Her hands caressed his shoulders and then her fingers slid through his full, blond tufts of hair.  Sh
e
spread kisses down his neck
.  Within his arms, she felt safe, comforted, and most of all, truly loved. 
T
h
at
was
where she belong
ed
.

A patch of lilies
blanketed the
ground near them, and Seth placed her amidst the soft bed of flowers.  He hov
ered over her a moment and
watched as she
rested
in the serene fields of the Preston lands.  The look of passion in his eyes
,
and the love in his heart
,
let loose with wild abandonment
. 

G
ad
,
how she love
d
him
.

Seth loosened
the lace
o
f his
cravat
and their lips met again.  His kisses
ventured down her neck and
journeyed across
her heaving bosom.  He released t
he ties of her
gray
dress
and
open
ed
the
way for more exploration.  When Seth exposed her breasts, he released a
moan
of
desire
.

“
You are so beautiful
.
” Seth gasped aloud
as the remainder of her cloth
es
slipped through his finge
rs
.  “Tell me true,
Myra
,” he said in a raspy voice.  “If you have an
y notion of changing your mind; I beseech you,
speak
up
now
.”

She smiled and reached for his hand and placed
it on her breasts
. 
His muscles tensed and
another low groan escape
d
.
 
“I don’t wish you to stop, Seth,” she assured through half masked
covered
eyes.

He looked
at her
and
Myra
felt as though he swathed her heart and soul in a
ray of warm light.  Every moment
she waited for
his touch
felt like a lifetime between her pante
d breaths.  Untamed passion
cried out
for
release, and she could
n’t
wait
any
longer. 

“This is forever,
Myra
,” he said before he took her mouth.

“Forever,” she repeated, but her words
were
lost in
the
passion as their hearts raced in unison, beating rapidly in the heat
of
their
desire
s
.

Anvil rode to the edge of the ridge and spotted two forms below in a lover's embrace.  Inwardly cringing, his hands flexed at his sides to form tight fists.  Everything told him to speed his horse forward and save his son, and himself, from the clutches of the girl, but Anvil paused.  It’d only succeed in Seth's anger and resentment if he acted on the impulse.  Nay, he thought. He would have to find another way to end the intimacy that
was
taking place between the two. 

He nudged his horse away and began to take the path below that led to the lovers.  An unseen disturbance could cause them separation, he thought.  He edged down the hill until he neared the bottom.  Anvil slowed his pace so the sound of the horse's hooves wouldn’t give him away.  His mind wandered to a time in England when he, too, had stolen time to be with a servant whom he fancied to b
e in love.  Unlike Seth,
there was no threat of him trapped by the sanctions of marriage.  He'd already wedded Anne ten years prior when he met Hester, Lucia's mother.  Hester a
nd his clandestine meetings
were
once
the most enjoyable days of his life.  Hours of frolicking under the trees, playing lover games
,
and sharing each of their hopes and dreams.  Yet it all had to end, and bitterly, at that.

When Hester realized she carried a child within her, Anvil was proud and wanted to announce to everyone that the child was his.  He hoped to give his new child the best he could afford as he did for his other children, but then Hester revealed the truth.  She'd been involved with a manservant who Anvil had in service.  Hurt and betrayed, and vowing he’d punish Hester for her wanton behavior, he sent her away and kept the daughter who showed so much resemblance to himself.  As Lucia grew, her likeness shifted toward her mother’s appearance.  She then became a constant reminder of what he once had and what so cruelly was taken away.  He couldn’t allow his son to experience that pain nor would he allow another lowly servant to take advantage of a Pre
ston.  They couldn’t be trusted!

Dismounting his steed, h
e closed in, only an earshot away and prepared to interrupt the lovers, but the sound of Seth's proposal gave him pause and he froze with the gun in mid aim. 

“Be my wife, Myra,” Seth said.  Nay, Anvil wanted to shout, but he held his words.  With bated breath, Anvil waited and prayed she’d refuse his offer.  He knew it unlikely, but he hoped for the best.

Anvil lowered the gun to his side and shook his head in defeat.  What could he do now?  There must be a way to prevent this from happening, he tol
d himself.  No matter what, he’d
protect his son.  Anvil raised his musket again, setting his sight on Myra’s forehead.  The moon gave just enough light for his target, and his finger steadily held the trigger. 

He couldn’t do it.  He wasn’
t a murderer; Angry, but not a fool.  There
was another way to work out the
problem.

Quietly walking
away, Anvil
mounted h
is horse.  Dark clouds slowly crept into the skies with promise of showers, but it wasn’t the safety of home that Anvil pressed toward
before
the
storm came.
  Nay, he aimed his mount toward Zachary Frederickson’s home.

*              *              *