My Forbidden Mentor (39 page)

Through clenched teeth John responded in a low vicious tone. “You’re referring to my future wife. She is above and beyond your status of women. You need to address her as such.” John stared daggers into his father’s eyes. “She will be Lady Blackburn to you. Is that understood?”

Albert could hardly breathe with the death grip John had around his neck, but even so, his opinion would not go unheard. “Why are you marrying a country lass? She’s beautiful, but honestly son, she lacks status. Why would you make her your wife?”

Disgust was John’s immediate reaction. “Being obstinate as usual father?” His anger simmered enough to let his hands drop from his father’s person. “I’m marrying Melissa because I love her. I don’t give a damn about her status. She will become my wife because I intend to marry her.” John’s arms crossed over his broad chest while his father fell back into the chair, catching his breath. “You see, father, I’m not like you. I’m like mother, which I know infuriates you, always has, and that’s why you treat me like hell, isn’t it? I remind you so much of mother you can’t stand it.”

John casually paced before his father. “She had a free spirit, father, until you crushed it. Perhaps you think you’ve suffered because you have a son that carries that same free spirit, one who lives independently of how others do, who cares less about the status of a person so they can judge if they should associate with them. And even more incredibly, your son takes after his mother in his looks. I can imagine how you’ve suffered, father.”

He stopped pacing to stand before his father. “But did you ever stop and think about how I feel.” John paused, waiting for Albert to explode, for John had never taken the opportunity to express himself to his father. When Albert had voiced his crude remark about Melissa it had set John ablaze, and amazingly his father sat there listening. “I’ve lived more than half my life without a mother. I lost a very special person in my life because of an unnecessary accident that took place, because her husband drove her into becoming a person she was not.” John’s voice turned rough and began to break up. “She loved you father. She loved you and you turned against her. You let her die.” John’s eyes turned to slivers of ice while his father’s softened. “I’d like you to leave now. I have nothing further to say.”

Albert, who so far had stayed silent, lifted from the chair, bent down to pick up his empty glass and set it on the table. He turned to look at John, whose back faced him now. John had been absolutely right about everything and it had taken John telling him to his face how bad it had been to realize it. He’d never thought to ask John how he felt. He had always figured John could handle himself since he’d always been mature for his age. After his dear Claire had passed on, John had turned to the racetrack instead of his father, while he had turned to more women. It was easier back then to bury his emotions of grief by diverting his attention with young glamorous women, and as he had gotten older, the women had gotten younger, but they still didn’t erase the memory of his beautiful young wife who died as a result of his superior attitude.

Albert watched John’s fingers press into his temples, massaging the pressure away. “Son, I apologize for the hell I’ve put you through. Despite everything, I loved your mother. I loved her so much . . . I drove myself crazy with imagined thoughts. You’re right, I killed her, and for that, I’m sorry.” Albert didn’t wait for a response. Instead he turned and left. His own emotions began surfacing and he needed to be alone.

John glanced over his shoulder. His father was gone. For the first time since his mother’s death he could have sworn his father was close to tears. He hadn’t expected him to apologize, but a sense of relief had come over John when his father had said he was sorry. In his lifetime he never imagined his father would soften, and to finally tell his father openly, face-to-face how he felt left a sense of power within him. He had stood up to his father despite any consequences that may have occurred, despite any kind of verbal attack from his father, and to his surprise his father had listened, listened instead of giving orders.

He found Melissa, told her about the conversation he’d had with his father, and let her console him. When they retired they talked about their wedding plans then drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, content.

Their wedding day was just two weeks after John’s confrontation with his father. John would have liked it sooner but Melissa had wanted more time for preparation, her gown, his suit, guests, food, all the minimally important items.

When the day finally arrived, the sun peeked through the cloud-covered sky as if appearing to make their day special. John stood by a sparkling stream that ran through his property a hundred yards or so from his “thinking” tree. Robert was by his side, Miss Beckett across from him on the opposite side. It became a contest between Miss Beckett and Robert as to who would comment first on John’s restless nature. As John slid his fingers through his loose hair for what seemed like the fiftieth time he sensed two pairs of eyes focusing on him. “What?” he said to Robert first, then swung his gaze to Miss Beckett. “What is it?” he questioned again while his fingers repeated their previous action for the fifty-first time.

Since Miss Beckett still held his attention she took the liberty to speak first. “That,” she said, lifting a finger to point at his gesture.

John looked down at the front of his waistcoat and vest, thinking his clothing was the problem. His eyes lifted back to her with utter confusion. “That what?”

Miss Beckett let out an exasperated breath, motioning him while telling him, “Bend down here for me.” She stood on the tips of her toes to reach his head with her hands and began smoothing his straying hair once he bent to her level. His constant skimming had made his sleek and flowing hair turn wild and out of control.

“That’s better. Now relax and stop that,” she said. Miss Beckett did seem to have a parental way about her.

“Thank you,” John said. The sound of laughter interrupted his nervous tension. John peered at Robert’s smiling face until Miss Beckett made an out of character remark that spun his attention back to her.

“It’s not your job to muss up your hair, it’s your wife’s,” she said with a straight face before facing forward to wait for Melissa’s arrival.

John swallowed once and didn’t say a word, then faced forward as well. He hadn’t expected a comment like that from Miss Beckett, but then life was full of surprises.

Robert leaned into John, “Welcome to the family?”

John tried to stay serious but couldn’t help the upward curve of his mouth at Robert’s reply, although his smile faded when an extraordinary vision appeared before him.

She looked like an angel that had fallen from the heavens, this beautiful woman who was to become his wife. She sat high on top of his number one stallion, Chief, her ivory silk dress draping around the stallion’s body. She carried herself proudly and presented the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. This day certainly was full of surprises, because he hadn’t a clue she planned to use his horse in the ceremony. Make that a pair of horses, he thought as Clara stepped out before him too. Before climbing atop his mare he took Melissa’s hand in his and said aloud for everyone to hear, “You’re beautiful.” Her eyes glistened as she gazed down at him.

Both horses stayed steady while John and Melissa said their vows. It was quite a reach but they managed to give each other a kiss after being announced husband and wife.

Their guests came over to congratulate them right away so they didn’t have a chance to depart from the horses. When Lord Ainsworth gave his congratulations to John a brilliant, chancy idea materialized in his ingenious mind.

John’s eyes followed Ainsworth as he trailed over to speak with Robert. He leaned toward Melissa, his eyes staying on Ainsworth. “Would you like to race?”

Caught off guard, Melissa lay on a plastered smile as she responded. “What?”

“I think the horses were a brilliant idea, sweetheart. Let’s race.”

“John, that wasn’t the purpose of the horses,” she explained while being tugged along by the reins.

“Everyone, I have an announcement.” Everyone got quiet. “Lady Blackburn and I, I like the sound of that,” he said to Melissa’s distraught features. “Lady Blackburn and I would like to indulge you in a race.” Everyone cheered and Melissa swallowed. “Keep your eye on Ainsworth,” he told her while leading them to an imaginary start line.

Melissa found Ainsworth looking enthusiastic and amused. Now she knew what John was up to. Very clever darling, only I’m not prepared, she thought.

“Simon, will you do the honors?” John asked.

Simon called out and they were off. John didn’t hold back. He wanted to push her, to give her competition so she would strive to win. He knew by now what got her going and holding back wouldn’t do it. She needed a driven, competitive opponent to force her true talent forward, and with Chief’s power and speed, Melissa would win this race against John, which was just how he wanted it to go for Ainsworth’s benefit.

John couldn’t help but feel pride and joy when Melissa beat him by a horse’s head length. For sure Ainsworth would be impressed, he thought, impressed enough to consider John’s proposal that he planned on making at the next business meeting.

There were compliments and praise on Melissa’s behalf following the race, and even Ainsworth himself had joked about Melissa racing for their team at Catterick. As tempting as it was to mention it then, John held back, deciding to wait to confront Ainsworth until the next partner’s meeting.

The wedding celebration lasted until the wee hours of the morning. John had noticed Melissa weaving as she walked around chatting with the guests, but he hadn’t realized how much champagne she’d consumed. He excused himself from Robert’s company and approached his wife, interrupting her conversation with his team partner, Paul Ford.

“Hello, love. I’ve mizzed you,” Melissa said, wrapping an arm around John’s neck and slurring her words as she spoke.

She tipped an empty glass of champagne toward her mouth when John took the glass away from her.

Looking toward Paul while he arranged Melissa in his arms, he confessed, “She doesn’t usually drink. Excuse me Paul, we’re going to retire for the evening.”

“Of course, John. Congratulations again,” Paul smiled, envious of the treasure John had found in his new bride.

Robert joined Paul and both watched John disappear around the top of the stairway with a giddy Melissa in his arms.

Once inside their bedchamber John undressed Melissa as best he could while her arms and hands playfully fumbled along his body. In a clumsy manner she tried undressing him as well, but she didn’t succeed as he lifted her naked body and placed her on the bed.

She wailed in great laughter, feeling numb and silly as John placed her beneath the covers.

John wasn’t sure what was so humorous but he gave her a generous smile as she lay inside cream satin sheets giggling.

Her laughter subsided a moment, long enough to comment, “Come here lover. Aren’t we supposed to consummate our vows?” She brought her arms out of the covers, reaching for him.

He gazed down at his inebriated wife, knowing tonight there would not be any consummation. “Sweetheart,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

She lifted, clasping her hands around his neck, pulling his handsome face down to hers. “Why are you still dressed?” she asked, her fingers threading through his long tresses.

“I think we should wait. You’ve had too much to drink tonight.”

Her mouth curved into a sexy grin. “You don’t think I can perform drunk?” Her eyelids were getting heavy as she asked her question.

“I think you’re getting sleepy and you’re not going to last much longer,” John told her, noticing the heaviness in her eyes, her hands slipping down to his shoulders in a loosened grip.

“Perhaps,” she murmured.

“Goodnight sweetheart,” he whispered back, giving her a kiss before lifting to undress.

“Night,” she replied and turned onto her side.

John smiled at her response as he stepped to his side of the bed and removed the remainder of his clothing. He slipped beneath the covers and snuggled up behind her. There would be no lovemaking this night, his wedding night.

When Melissa awakened the next morning she wanted to die. It hurt to open her eyes, it hurt to move them around, so instantly, she shut them. Although closing her eyes helped to relieve the intent eye pain it hadn’t helped the pounding in her head. She moaned, promising herself she’d never drink another drop of liquor again in her life.

The sound of the bedchamber door opening made Melissa squint her eyes in order to see who it was. John appeared before her with a tray of liquids. He set the tray on a nearby nightstand and poured a small amount of brandy into a glass.

“Are you quite mad to drink so early in the morning, John?” she asked.

“It’s not for me, it’s for you,” he told her, pushing the glass of amber liquid toward her.

She sat up, backing herself against the walnut headboard. Her nostrils flared as the fumes of alcohol burned and its scent made her stomach want to heave. She turned her head away from the glass. “Get that away from me. I don’t want it.”

“It will help. Drink a little of this first, then you need to drink a sufficient amount of water to counteract your dehydration,” John said, keeping the glass in front of her.

“I can’t, the smell of it makes me want to vomit.” Her face scrunched as she turned back to him.

“Hold your nose and drink it. Trust me.”

Her eyes narrowed, which hurt, while the fingers of one hand pinched her nose shut. She took the glass of liquid and gagged it down.

“Very good.” He took the glass from her. “Now stay still for a moment. It will help shortly.” He reached over, pouring water into another glass.

“You’re up early today,” she commented, watching John gather clothing for her to wear.

He chuckled. “It’s not as early as you think,” he said while spreading her clothes across the bed for her.

Melissa reached over to grab the glass of water. “What time is it?” she asked while taking a sip.

“A quarter to noon. Long past time for you to get dressed so we can venture out.”

“Noon? I should say so.” She placed the glass of water back on the nightstand and flipped the covers off of her. While reaching over to attain her clothing, she suddenly realized what he had said and her head popped up. “Venture out?” she said as she started to stand. “What plans have you made?” she asked, standing straight then immediately sitting back down, staying there until the dizziness passed.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. I just got up too fast.”

“Yes, I know the feeling, and I hope you’re up for a little adventure today. I’ve had this planned for some time.”

“Really? I like surprises. Is it a surprise?”

“Sort of. Why don’t you get dressed so you can find out?”

On horseback John took Melissa out into the country, where they traveled across miles of vacant green land. Together they hunted for creatures of nature so they could watch them in their natural habitat. They found berry bushes and ate berries while riding through scattered oak and elm trees. They came upon some dense brush and dismounted their horses. John took Melissa’s hand in his and led her into the concealing brush. A small pool of water appeared and Melissa sighed in delight. While Melissa admired the private body of water, John admired Melissa with indiscreet ideas.

John stripped off his clothing and coerced her into shedding hers, but getting her into the water presented another challenge. Her arms folded across her naked bosom as she stood on the banks of green land and her toes crept toward the water’s edge. John had already waded in and was waiting in cool water up to his waistline.

She dipped her big toe into the water then backed out. “It’s freezing, John.”

“Oh Lord, Melissa. Stop being such a coward and jump in here with me.”

“I’ll watch you swim,” she said, quickly spinning around to take a step further up the bank of grass when two strong hands clasped onto the backs of her thighs.

“Oh no you don’t,” he warned.

She playfully screamed, her body squirming, her toes digging into the muddy bank, but John’s tight grip on her legs was too powerful and the pressure of their back and forth struggle landed them both into sopping soil and twisted grass created by their frantic motions.

John landed halfway on her backside while the other half of him lay soaking in rich black mud. Unfortunately his poor wife laid face down, plastered from head to toe in the oozing stuff. His extra weight on top hadn’t helped he thought, lifting himself off of her. “Now you definitely need to get into the water. Come on, we need to clean you up.” He smiled at her lifting head “Then we can consummate our vows lover,” he mocked deliciously into her ear.

They slipped and slid until finally, grasping enough bunches of grass in their hands to steady themselves, they stood before each other, naked and muddied, laughing at how ridiculous they looked. John squatted to pick up his wife and carefully stepped back into the water. He set her before him and she began to shiver. Willingly he took her in his arms, holding her tight against his body so she could warm up.

“Was I so drunk that we didn’t even make love last night?” she asked in response to his insinuation.