Authors: Julia Keaton
Tags: #erotica, #historical, #new concepts publishing, #julia keaton
“I didn’t do it on purpose!”
“The hell you didn’t. I saw you looking
at him, you were probably committing everything about him to memory
so you could go back later and--”
The words that came out of Ava’s mouth
then sent Jocelyn reeling. Honestly, as if the stable hands
couldn’t control their mouths at least a little bit.
“Please stop. Just…I can’t take any
more of that.”
Smug, Ava fell back onto the seat
beside Jocelyn rather than going back to her original place across
from her.
“As long as you understand. There will
be plenty of eligible young men to choose from once we get to
England. And I can guarantee that almost all of them will be much
more suitable for you and our station than him.”
There was so much venom in her voice
that it brought a smile to Jocelyn’s face.
“Is he really so bad Ava?”
“Yes,” She turned her head to look at
her, staring hard so that Jocelyn could understand how serious she
was. “He is.”
* * * *
They had been traveling hard for a few
days when Jocelyn decided she couldn’t take it anymore. They’d been
told to stay in the safety of the carriage and though Jocelyn loved
her sister fiercely, extended contact with her was known to produce
headaches, nausea, hallucinations, and increased thoughts of
suicide. So even though they were on their third day out and still
in Virginia, Jocelyn desperately prayed for mercy.
They’d stopped by mid-afternoon.
Watering the horses and allowing Ava and Jeremy, who’d come along
to drive the carriage and as extra protection, a much needed privy
break. Taking advantage of the lull, Jocelyn slipped out of the
carriage right behind her sister and hurried over to Damon who was
crooning to his pretty mare. The act stunned her; she hadn’t
figured Damon as the crooning type. He did it surprisingly well and
she stood behind him for a long time listening to the soft
comforting sounds he made with his deep voice. The mare nuzzled his
curly black hair as if she was in love and honestly Jocelyn
couldn’t blame her.
And on that disturbing thought, she
cleared her throat.
Those distracting noises ended abruptly
and he turned to look at her, his face expressionless.
“What is it?”
“What’s her name?” She decided to take
a circular route, maybe soften him up. It must have worked, for
though he looked at her strangely an animation came into his face
that hadn’t been there the last few days.
“Isabella. Beautiful isn’t
she?”
“Yes.” There was no harm in giving due
where it was deserved. “She’s a stunning creature. I’m sure she and
my Jet would get along wonderfully.”
He raised an amused brow and indicated
Jet stomping the ground from behind the carriage.
“He’s yours then? Where’s Ava’s
horse?”
“She doesn’t ride. Not well
anyway.”
“And you do? Ride well I mean?” There
was something heavy behind his words, some hidden meaning Jocelyn
didn’t get but she decided to ere on the side of
ignorance.
“Better than most.”
“Ah.” He was silent for a moment and
Jocelyn crossed her fingers. Then as if he could see right through
her he grinned and asked, “Would you like to prove it?”
Trying not to show how excited she was,
Jocelyn turned her face away as she began to pet Bella.
“Hmm, that would be nice. A good change
of pace from the carriage.”
“Then by all means.” He bowed but the
movement was more mocking than respectful and Jocelyn felt her lips
tighten.
When Jeremy and Ava stumbled back from
their respective bushes and boarded the carriage, Jocelyn
unharnessed Jet and mounted him with Damon’s assistance. Once she
was settled they started on their way once again with Ava raising
Cain once she realized she was on her own for a while.
Taking a deep breath, Jocelyn nudged
Jet forward, handling the animal’s spirited trot with the inborn
grace of a dancer and a lifetime of experience on
horseback.
Jet danced and pranced, showing off his
long legs and shinning coat to Damon’s Bella. Who, if Jocelyn
guessed correctly, was completely uninterested if only for the fact
that her one and only love was her rider.
It had nothing to do with the fact that
Jet wasn’t good enough.
Not that she was offended or
anything.
“Why doesn’t your horse like my
horse?”
He stayed silent but Jocelyn could see
his lips twitch.
“Because she’s a prideful bitch who
looks down her nose at everyone and everything.”
The fact that he seemed inordinately
proud of his mount for having such a personality made Jocelyn’s
eyes narrow.
She tried again, “How long will you
travel with us?”
“Until we make land in the Caribbean.
I’ll rest for a day or two, renew my supplies then make my way back
to the states.”
“So you won’t be with us when we head
to Uncle Clay’s house?”
An inkling of a plan was beginning to
form in Jocelyn’s mind, but she refused to look too deeply into it
until she had to.
He seemed to guess if not the details
of her thoughts then the overall gist because he sighed and said,
“I’m not taking you back with me. This is the last you’ll see of
this country at least until the war is over. I doubt Clayton will
want you and your sister traveling back and forth between the
fighting for silly sentimental reasons.”
She scowled and turned away. They
traveled in silence for a bit longer before the chirping birds and
rustling leaves of the tree began to drive her mad.
“Tell me about your family.”
She thought she saw him stiffen but it
must have been a trick of the light because he answered easily
enough.
“My youngest brother, Trent is fifteen
and I have a sister and another brother, six year old twins, named
Remy and Clara.” He seemed like he wanted to say more but something
held his tongue. Instead he turned to her and gave a smile that
never quite reached his eyes.
“They’re a handful.”
She could imagine. Ava worked her to
the bone and the girl was close to grown. She had no idea what
she’d do if there were more Avas, young ones, running around the
estate. He explained more about his family. How Trenton loved to
play practical jokes and the twins acted as though they were one
person. He told stories of how his mother had found Trent’s frog
and snake collection swimming in roughly made swamp in her trunk
along with her under things and cosmetics. He grinned at her when
she began to laugh at hearing that it had taken Clara three years
before she would finally accept that she was not to stand and
relieve herself as her twin did.
She snuffled back tears on hearing of
his mother’s miscarriage and found a smile once again when he spoke
of his father’s belief in the ‘otherworld’.
“The money for my schooling was nearly
completely depleted from feeding the neighborhood fortuneteller’s
and their entire families. Oddly enough he seemed most pleased
hearing bad news rather than good, God knows why.”
She enjoyed his tales as much now as
she had last night. It was obvious he loved his family more than
anything and because he did, she began to as well. It took her a
while before she realized that it wasn’t just his stories she
liked, but his voice as well. It soothed her, called to her and she
felt hungry for more of it.
So she joked with him, bantered and
argued over silly things. She spoke of her childhood and her love
of dancing. Of the people in her town and their petty scandals and
struggles.
He laughed at something she’d said, and
after the smile was nothing but a sweet memory on his face he gave
a slight bow of his head to her.
“I have to say, Princess, I haven’t had
such an interesting conversation in a while.”
“Are the men of your acquaintance not
up to par Mr. Burleigh?”
“Few men I’m afraid, and even fewer
women.”
This shocked her for Damon seemed like
the type who tastes ran to the exotic. In both his choice of
friends and his women.
“I find that hard to believe. Are none
of your many female…” she hesitated over the word and saw him hide
a smile at her confusion. “Friends able to keep your
attention?”
“I don’t see my female…friends because
of their stimulating conversation.”
She blushed hotly and turned away from
the warm mockery in his eyes.
“You have the foulest mouth, Mr.
Burleigh. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you can’t be so forward
with a lady?”
“Does my foul mouth offend you?” It was
irritating to note that he didn’t deny he had done something wrong
so much as checked to see how affected she was by it.
“It’s not just your words but your
actions as well.”
His eyes widened with innocence and
Jocelyn ad to stiffen her crumbling resolve.
“Madam, I have no idea what you
mean.”
“When we first met,” She reminded him,
“You looked at me in the strangest way.”
“What was strange about it?”
She ignored the laughter in his voice
and turned her head so she could meet his eyes boldly, glad that
they were far enough ahead of the carriage not to be
overheard.
“You looked at me as if you could see
through my clothes.”
“Maybe I could.”
She made a helpless sound of mixed
aggravation and embarrassment and kneed her horse into a faster
trot.
“I’m sorry.” He was laughing all out
now, and Jocelyn wanted to kick herself for bringing it
up.
“I’m sorry, Princess, but you have it
all wrong. That wasn’t the first time we met.”
She slowed but didn’t stop.
“If I remember correctly when we did
first meet it was you who behaved inappropriately towards me. I was
shocked, appalled even, and in the greatest fear of my
virtue.”
She reigned in Jet and looked at him
over her shoulder, her jaw slack.
“What?”
“When you were six you kissed me and I
had to propose so John couldn’t say I’d compromised
you.”
“Kissed you?” She was going
numb.
“On the mouth.”
“Marriage?”
“You said yes.”
From behind them Ava leaned from the
carriage window and screeched, “You did what!”
Her face bright red Jocelyn wheeled Jet
around and headed back to the carriage, her face turned carefully
away from Damon’s least he see the sudden shyness in her
gaze.
“It seems like Ava is growing tired of
traveling alone. I think I’ll go and keep her company for a
bit.”
“How admirable of you, Princess.” He
waited a beat. “Do I get a kiss goodbye?”
Fuming she urged Jet forward, leaving
the insufferable man to choke and laugh on the dust she kicked up
in her wake.
* * * *
She would have ridden back to him,
after she’d calmed herself down. Which was surprisingly hard to do
when it was such a silly thing to become flustered over. It wasn’t
even that her six year old self had done such a bold thing…it was
more that her six year old self was brave enough to do such a bold
thing while at nineteen the simple thought of repeating the act
sent her heart into painful contractions.
From fear or longing she didn’t
know.
But either way, she would have ridden
back.
Only Ava wouldn’t let her.
“Since you mentioned it, I am tired of
traveling alone. I see no reason why you would want to stay with
him anyway.” Her pretty face collapsed into an even prettier pout
and Jocelyn felt her temper spike. She had wanted to try her hand
at convincing him to let her stay again. Now that they’d talked and
found that they liked one another it should be a simple thing for
him to relax some of that rigid stubbornness and let her head back
home. After all, didn’t he see how smart she was, how independent
and mature? More than capable of handling herself. Unless … unless
she hadn’t come off as bright and independent and
mature.
While she fretted over this, Damon was
pushing his horse, and as a result the carriage into a faster and
faster gate. The countryside was dangerous and he wanted to avoid
the towns as much as possible. Especially with Ava and Jocelyn
aboard. Pretty things like them would cause an uproar in the tiny
little towns they passed on their way to Florida. It wasn’t just
that that pushed him though. It was the season, perfect for
weevils. Perfect weather for a damned insect that could wipe out a
man’s entire crop. He was trying his best to fulfill John’s wishes,
but the longer away from home he was, away from what was familiar
and important, the more desperate he became to finish his duty as
quickly as possible. And if every now and then his eyes would fall
upon the carriage and he would raise a hand to his lips and wonder
… well then it was only proof that it was the perfect season for
madness as well as bugs.