Forever Page 11
They were shrewd, dutiful, and polite. They were good looking too, tall and thin, with his dark hair and blue eyes.
Marguerite had raised them with very little of his own dubious assistance, so he didn’t really know them, and Will especially was nearly an adult. Robert was quite sure Will would laugh at any lectures about amour and the sorts of traps a trollop could set for an unsuspecting man.
As Becky disappeared from view, Robert said, “She’s pretty.”
“Yes, she is,” Will agreed.
“And she’s smart and educated and interesting.”
“She’s those things too.”
“Yet she seems a tad flirtatious to me.” Robert tried not to sound judgmental.
“She’s very flirtatious.”
“With a girl like that, it would be easy for a fellow’s head to be turned in the wrong direction.”
Will stared at him and smirked. “Are we having a father/son chat about romance?”
“I think so.”
“Are you about to explain where babies come from?”
“Maybe.” Robert was relieved it was dark so his flaming cheeks weren’t visible.
Will chuckled. “You don’t have to enlighten me, Father.”
“Why not? You ought to hear the details about what happens in the bedchamber. It’ll keep you out of trouble.”
“Mother already told us all about it.”
Robert was shocked and aghast. Will was sixteen, but Tom was twelve.
“Both of you?”
“Yes. She wished she hadn’t been so loose with her favors. She wished she’d held out for someone more steadfast than you.”
“What do you know?” Robert mused, stunned by his son’s opinion of his marriage.
“She felt she was very far beneath you in status, and she thought it was unfair that you’d ended up with her, and she didn’t want us to ever be ensnared by a doxy—as you were.”
Robert nodded. “A wise woman, your mother.”
“So don’t concern yourself over Becky and me. She’s husband hunting.”
“I believe she is.”
“But I’m only sixteen. I’m too young to be a husband.”
“I’m glad you’re so sensible.”
“I’m excited to get to England so I can see how beautiful the girls are there. Aren’t they all fresh-faced and fetching?”
“Most of them are.”
“And you’ll expect me to wed very high, won’t you?”
“I’m hoping you will. We have our connection to Hayden, so there will be many avenues opening up. There’s no telling who we might meet in the future, and I have the money to arrange a stellar match for you.”
“I’d like that,” Will sagely apprised him. “You can arrange a grand marriage for me, but let’s consider it when I’m older.”
“You’re being very prudent.”
“In the meantime—if you don’t mind—I’ll trifle with tarts like Becky.”
“Be careful.”
“I always am.”
“Just have fun,” Robert advised. “Don’t be stupid over her.”
“Me? Be stupid?” Will scoffed. “I’m your son. Why would I ever behave stupidly?”
He sauntered off, a cocky swagger in his stride.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Hello, Miss Barnes.”
“Hello, Nine Lives.”
Helen smiled a smile Hayden felt clear down to his toes. She was sitting in the shade in front of his tent, hemming one of the dresses he’d given her from his pirate booty.
“You’re staying busy,” he said.
“I don’t know how to be idle. I’ve always managed my father’s rectories for him, so I’m used to having many tasks to occupy me.”
“You can sew. Can you cook too? Are you a woman of many talents?”
“Absolutely.”
Her sister was seated with her too, and at the notion of Helen cooking, she scoffed. “Don’t listen to her, Nine Lives. If she ever offers to cook for you, you should run far and fast in the other direction. She can’t even boil water and make it come out right.”
“Don’t be so honest about me, Becky,” Helen said. “I’m hoping to impress him.”
“That’s all well and good,” her sister retorted, “but it’s a sin to tell a lie.”
“So you can’t cook?” he asked Helen.
“Not really.”
“I’ll keep that in mind if I’m ever hungry around you.” He extended his hand. “Walk with me.”
“To where?”
“Just down the beach. We have to talk.”
She studied him. “From your grim expression, it must be bad news.”
“It’s not bad news.”
“Then why are you scowling?”
“I’m not scowling. This is how I always look.”
“I suppose you won’t stop pestering me until I obey.”
“I suppose you’re correct.”
She set her mending aside, and he pulled her up.
“Where are you taking her?” her sister asked.
“I told you. Down the beach.”
“I have to put my foot down about any long strolls. Or any swimming. You wrecked her dress.”
“I’ll try to behave myself,” he sarcastically replied.
“And you can’t abscond with her for hours and hours as you did the other afternoon. I have to insist that you don’t.”
He might have rudely suggested she stuff it, but Helen saved him.
“Becky, you are not my mother or my chaperone. You needn’t worry about me, and I most especially won’t tolerate you lecturing Nine Lives about how he should act.”
“Won’t you?”
“No, I won’t.” Helen grinned up at him. “Ignore her. She’s pouting.”
“I am not,” Becky claimed, but they’d already departed, so if she expounded he didn’t hear her.
“Why is she pouting?” he inquired once they were out of the camp.
“She’s been flirting with Mr. Stone’s son, Will.”
“I can certainly understand it. He’s a handsome boy.”
“When we were on our ride the other day, she was off in the dark with him.”
“That doesn’t sound good. I remember being that age. It’s probably not wise for them to be alone.”
“I agree, and I’m punishing her.”
“How?”
“She has to constantly remain by my side. She can’t wander off.”
“I bet she doesn’t like that.”
“No, she doesn’t, and I believe Mr. Stone had a chat with Will too. He’s hardly glanced at her since they were together.”
“She blames you?”
“Yes. I’m the wicked older sister, and I never let her have any fun.”
Hayden snorted at that. “You’re many things, but I would never describe you as wicked.”
“You might if I was your sister.”
“I’m glad you’re not. If you were, I could never do this.”
He dipped in and stole a kiss as he’d been dying to do since their beach escapade. He’d been rattled by their jaunt, so he’d been avoiding her, but their attraction was so tangible he could practically see it floating in the air between them.
As he drew away, she sighed with pleasure. “I was wondering if you’d ever kiss me again. You’ve been deliberately hiding from me.”
“Yes, I have. I admit it.”
“Why? It was brazen of me to swim with you, and I would hate to learn you deemed me overly loose.”
He frowned. “Me? Think you were loose?”
“I’ve been fretting about it.”
He shook his head. “I like loose women, the looser the better.”
“You would.”
“Don’t forget that I was the one who carried you into the water. If I recall correctly, you were vehemently opposed.”
“Yes, I was.”
&nbs
p; “So any misconduct was all my fault.”
“I’ll tell myself that’s the truth.”
He slipped his hand into hers, linking their fingers as if they were adolescent sweethearts. He shouldn’t have. Nor should he have kissed her again, but he simply couldn’t resist. He couldn’t be so close to her and not touch her.
“I’ve never been friends like this with a man,” she said.
“And I haven’t ever been friends with a woman.”
“Are we friends though? We are, aren’t we?”
“Yes.”
“Actually, I’ve never had many extended relationships at all,” Helen said. “Not with a man or a woman. We moved a lot.”
“Because of your father?”
“Yes. He’d stir trouble with someone’s wife or daughter, and he’d be reassigned.”
“It must have been horrid for you.”
“It was. Usually, we’d sneak out of town in the middle of the night, having been completely disgraced and our name dragged through the mud.”
“With that sort of history, I’m surprised you’re still so happy and optimistic.”
“I’m faking it.” She laughed a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m stunned to have revealed all that to you. I’m not normally so chatty about my situation.”
“I’m a man who encourages confessions.”
“You are not.”
“I am! You can confide in me, and I’d never judge you.”
“I should hope not. I wasn’t responsible for any of it. I was merely standing in the corner, watching all with my mouth agape.”
“When did you first realize your father’s proclivities?”
“Shortly after my mother passed away.”
“When was that?”
“A decade ago. I was about to turn fifteen.”
“You’re twenty-five now?”
“Yes.”
“You decrepit old spinster, you,” he teased.
She grimaced. “I’m not a spinster by choice, so you can’t use the term to bludgeon me.”
“Would you like to marry someday?”
“Yes. Wouldn’t every woman?”
“I guess, although I’ve spent years around trollops in port towns, and they generally seem delighted to not have husbands ordering them about.”
“I hadn’t ever thought about marriage being awful.”
“Even with your father as a prime example of bad matrimonial behavior?”
“Well, he can be terrible, but he’s merry and fun too. If he wasn’t a philanderer, he’d be an excellent spouse.”
He scoffed. “You are a very loyal daughter.”
“I’ve had to be. If I hadn’t been there to tend him, I can’t predict how he’d have managed.”
“Do you suppose he was unfaithful to your mother?”
“I’m sure he was.”
“You’re painting the most intriguing picture of him. I can’t decide if I’d like to meet him or if I should pray I don’t.”
“You’d like him. He’s pleasant company.”
“Is that where you acquired your agreeable attributes?” he asked. “You inherited all his charm?”
She peeked up at him. “You think I’m charming?”
“Definitely.”
“There’s no doubt about it then. I’m getting a big head. With all your pretty compliments, I can’t keep it from swelling.”
They neared a small stream that bubbled out of the ferns and spilled into the ocean. It was the spot where he bathed after a hot day. He escorted her over to the foliage, and she dug in her heels.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Into the ferns.”
“That sounds positively scandalous.”
“It’s cooler there, and there’s a pool with a waterfall. We can sit in the shade and enjoy the scenery.”
“How do I know you don’t have wicked designs on my person?”
“I do have wicked designs. I admit it, but I’ll try to control myself.”
“You’ll try?” She snorted with disgust. “You haven’t given me much incentive to join you.”
“All right. I will control myself. I promise.”
She scowled, her skepticism obvious. “I’ll force myself to believe you, but if you make one suggestive move, I’ll stomp off and return to camp.”
“You will not.”
“I might.”
“You won’t. You like me more than you should. You’ll relish having me all to yourself.”
“You’re so humble,” she facetiously said.
“I don’t have a humble bone in my body.”
“No, you don’t.”
They were in the scorching sun, and he was tired of debating with her. It wasn’t in his nature to be denied. They would loaf by the pond, and if illicit conduct occurred, she’d get over it, and he wouldn’t feel guilty.
He guided her onto the path and wound them through the ferns that lined the stream. Soon, they came to the pool and the waterfall behind it. With its tropical flowers, crystal clear water, and swaying palm trees, it was the type of place where a fellow might stumble on a mermaid.
She grinned. “How lovely. I’m glad you insisted I accompany you.”
“I knew you would be.” He led her to a boulder and balanced her on it, then he patted his thigh. “Give me your foot.”
“Why?”
“We’ll take off our shoes and stockings and soak our feet.”
“We most certainly will not.”
“Don’t argue with me, Helen. I’ve already seen your feet. I won’t faint if I see them again.”
She studied him, the pond, him. “It is dreadfully hot.”
“And I hate it when you act like a prude.”
“I am a prude,” she said.
He patted his thigh again, and she relented, permitting him to pluck off her shoes.
He cocked a brow. “Would you like me to unroll your stockings for you?”
“No, I would not.”
“The world won’t end if I catch a glimpse of your ankles.”
“Turn around.”
“You won’t let me watch?”
“No. Turn around!”
He obeyed her command, but he could hear her lifting her skirt, untying a garter, tugging off her stocking. Then she worked loose the other one. It was torture to stand so close and not pitch in, but he restrained himself.
“Are you finished?” he asked, knowing she was.
“Yes.”
He spun, and she was sitting in a very prim way, as if seated on a pew in church. He sat beside her and nudged her with his elbow. “Get up, woman, and attend me.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
She jumped up and saluted him as if she were a lowly private in the army, yanking off one boot, then the other. Then he went to the water’s edge and plopped down on the grassy bank. She walked over and eased down too, and she raised the hem of her skirt and dunked her legs up to her knees.
“Ha!” he teased. “I saw your toes.”
“And I didn’t die of shame.”
“You’re built of sterner stuff than that.”
“I’m made of very stern stuff.”
“I’ve noticed that about you.”
He linked their fingers again, and they were quiet for a bit, listening to the birds chirping and cawing.
“You have something to tell me,” she eventually said. “What is it? Cease your torment.”
“Let’s not talk about it yet.”
“So it is bad news.”
“No. I just want to relax for a few minutes.”
“Well, I can hardly relax with you. You’ve elevated my anxiety to a preposterous level.”
“We don’t have to converse every single second.”
As he shifted toward her, he was quite overcome with affection. She wasn’t wearing a bonnet, and her brunette hair was hanging down, tied with a ribbon. The s
un shone through the leaves in the trees, dappling her with light so she seemed to shimmer.
He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t resist. Not when she was so pretty and he was so completely captivated. He leaned in and kissed her. She participated with a great deal of relish, and she was growing bolder, her breasts pressed to his chest, her hands caressing his shoulders and back.
He pulled her onto his lap, her bottom on his thigh. For a moment, they were off balance, and he nearly lost his grip and dropped her in the water.
She shrieked and laughed, then he began his assault again, his lips capturing hers in a torrid embrace that went on and on. He couldn’t imagine why he’d ever stop, but of course he had to. Kissing led to all sorts of behaviors he shouldn’t ever consider with regard to her, and he was sending exactly the wrong message.
Why was he being such a cad? Why couldn’t he act as was proper? Why couldn’t he treat her as she deserved to be treated?
If he kept dallying with her, she would expect that a marriage proposal was just around the corner—she probably already expected it—but it would never arrive. He was being horrid, was delighted to trifle with her but with there being no sentiment driving his infatuation.
When he was with her, he felt so much better, fantastic, extraordinary, and wonderfully lucky. But so what?
He wanted her so desperately, but in this instance, he couldn’t have what he wanted. He slowed and drew away, yet she’d so thoroughly aroused him that he was thinking he would ride to Santa Cruz after he was finished with her.
It was a port town after all, and there were many harlots who could soothe a man’s worst urges. After such a passionate interlude with Helen Barnes, he definitely needed to be soothed or he might explode.
“I’ve been scolding myself over you,” she said.
“Why?”
“You must be a sorcerer, because you push me into conduct I shouldn’t attempt.”
“You’re crazy about me.”
“Maybe,” she agreed, and he grinned.
“It’s just kissing, Helen.”
“It’s just kissing if I remember to control myself.”
“Are you out of control? How fortunate for me if you are.”
“Could we talk now? We’ve gotten our amour out of the way. Could you please tell me what you’re so eager to impart?”
“I could, but I’m terribly hot. Give me a minute.”
He slid her off his lap and onto the bank. Then he tugged off his shirt and waded in, clad in his trousers. He sank down and floated over to the waterfall, and he dipped under it, dousing his head and hair.