Rags to Rubies (29 page)

Soon laughter replaced the tears they both had shed. Grace giggled at the thought of Jared in line for a title. Thank goodness it would only happen by the demise of several other healthy male cousins.

Hours passed as they lay in front of the fire, talking as lovers do, sharing secrets, feelings, deeply personal thoughts, each opening themselves to the other, in trust, in compassion, each with thoughts only for the other. A clock struck the midnight hour.

“Merry Christmas, love,” Jared murmured into her dark tresses as he took her into his arms and kissed her long and passionately. Feeling her respond was the most effective aphrodisiac he could have imagined.

When he finally released her mouth, Grace looked up at him through half-closed eyes, her lips puffy and glistening from the kisses they shared. “Come,” she said, rising and holding out her hand to him. She flashed him a smile as she led him toward the rustic bed in a corner of the intimate cottage.

Jared realized he was about to make love with a woman he truly loved. Grace had taken him to her bed before with an urgency brought on by fear and anxiety. She had trusted him with her body, her life. This time he would be making love with her not only to satisfy the craving he had for her but for the simple joy of having her.

He had fought it, called it lust, passion, anything but love, but now it was past time to tell her, to show her.

His body burned from wanting her. After deftly undressing her, he lowered her, naked and unembarrassed, onto the homespun quilt covering the featherbed and began to unbutton his shirt and trousers. Her adoring gaze never left him until he lowered himself along the length of her and kissed her eyes closed.

“I love to touch you,” he whispered, as his hand searched for the soft weight of her breast. Grace shivered and, catching his hand, pressed it against her breast and arched her body into him. Lowering his head, he took the soft mound into his mouth, his tongue making wet circles around the peak. He caressed and suckled and bit gently one, then the other. Soon she was moaning and lifting her hips to meet the hardness pushing against her thigh.

She guided his fingers between her legs, and Jared slid one finger inside the warmth and began to stroke her, his thumb across the swelling nub of her pleasure. She writhed under his caress, bending her knees, opening herself to him.

He parted her thighs with his leg and settled in between, leaning above her on his elbows so he could look at her, his erection poised at the triangle now dewy wet with feminine arousal.

He feathered kisses on her closed eyelids as he began to enter her. She surprised him by wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. His hand slid beneath her bottom, raising her slightly and allowing a deep and complete penetration. She moaned softly into his shoulder.

Jared looked down at the beautiful creature beneath him and groaned. He feared the loss of his control before he had brought her the pleasure she craved and deserved. She had given herself completely to him once again, and a fevered emotion swept through his entire body as he moved into her, with her, a rhythm perfectly timed with the ferocious beating of his heart.

Then they danced upward to the song, all the parts pulsing, soaring to a magical pinnacle together, simultaneously exploding in a thunderous spasm so intense, so exhilarating, so intimate it defied definition.

He continued to move within her afterward with slow, careful movements until the spasms abated and an intense satisfaction swept over both of them. He settled into her softness, exhausted, feeling his pounding heart slow, her skin moist against his. Her warmth poured into him, filling all the dark empty places that had been so cold.

He held her very close for a long time. “I love you, Grace,” he whispered, “I can’t live my life without you.”

When he finally withdrew to lie beside her, he tucked her to him with tenderness. Grace snuggled closer and closed her eyes. Soon his rhythmic breathing cut through the silence as he slept peacefully, his arms wrapped around her.

****

Grace woke slowly and languidly. Dawn emerged, providing a dim light to the room. Since the fire had become glowing embers, she knew she had to get up soon and put another log on to take the chill from the room.

Soon, she thought with a smile, and snuggled back to the warmth of Jared’s arms that were still about her. Jared woke and pulled her closer without opening his eyes. She watched as a grin spread across his face.

“I love you, Grace. Merry Christmas.” He kissed the nape of her neck and stretched. His eyes opened and he yawned. “I suppose that fire needs attending,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow to look past her body to the rustic fireplace.

He noticed a manger scene at the foot of the hearth, made of papier-mâché figures arranged carefully around a wooden manger. “Why is Baby Jesus missing from the manger?” he asked.

Grace ran her fingers down his jaw. “Traditionally, my family hid Baby Jesus somewhere and cleared the manger of straw,” she explained. “During Advent season, we would try to do anonymous good deeds for each other, leaving behind a piece of straw for each deed, which the recipient of the kindness would then place in the manger.”

Grace wound her legs around his and snuggled closer. “The idea was to have a nice warm bed for Baby Jesus by Christmas morning, when he would miraculously appear along with mountains of presents.”

Jared’s silence made her realize that he had never had any memories of a Christmas surrounded by family. Her childhood had been so full of love, where his had held only emptiness. She rolled over to face him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.” She cupped his face with her hands and kissed him gently.

“Don’t be sorry, Grace. It’s a beautiful tradition. I love it and I love you.” He kissed her back. “But could you please find the babe and replace him in the manger? I hate to think of him somewhere alone and cold.”

Grace slipped from the bed and walked across the room. Jared followed every naked movement. “Aren’t you even a little embarrassed by your...uh...concern for Baby Jesus,” she teased glancing toward the bed sheet that covered his rising passion.

“Not in the least,” he replied with a wicked grin.

Grace pulled out a drawer, retrieved the figurine, and placed it in the bed of straw. Quickly she threw a few logs on the fire and slid back into the warm bed. “Is that better?”

“Immensely,” he smiled putting one hand on her backside and pulling her closer. He kissed her ear and nuzzled her tousled hair, inhaling her scent.

“I have a Christmas gift for you, if you will take it.” He removed a gold ring from his little finger. Two hearts overlapped and bound with a curling vine. “This ring belonged to my mother. My aunt thought I might like it since I have so little of her.”

He rose up on one elbow. “Will you marry me, Grace? Will you have me as husband? Will you take this gift? I give it with all my heart.”

She stared at him, then at the ring he held in his hand.

He studied her face. “I’m so sorry, Grace. I shouldn’t have assumed...” He swallowed with difficulty.

Grace jerked her eyes away from the ring and cupped his face. “Jared, no, you misunderstand. I love it! I love you!” She realized that, along with the photograph, the ring was very precious to him. That he would give it to her touched her in a way no other gift could have. “And yes to everything!”

He slipped the band onto her ring finger. A perfect fit.

“I also have a gift for you.” Grace smiled.

“But how could you possibly...?”

Grace rested her ringed hand on her abdomen. “However, you may have to wait a few months to collect.”

Jared looked from her face to her hand, then back to her face.

Grace nodded yes to the question in his eyes.

Then the silence of the forest was broken by his shout of gladness as he gathered her and his babe close, knowing for certain he would never be alone again.

Epilogue

Ravenhall

December 1931

Life is good
, Grace reflected, as she rubbed her round belly through the thick woolen blankets tucked about her body. She shifted on the hard bench and stretched her lower back. Perhaps she should head back toward the warmth of the fire Henry tended on the edge of Frog Pond. Her son skated across the ice on metal two-bladers as quickly as his stubby little legs could carry him, with his doting papa close behind. How she would love to join them! But no amount of begging had changed Jared’s mind, and she was to be content sitting on the sidelines watching the merriment.

Young Billy held Patty’s hand as they slid across the ice, the boy oblivious to the hero worship in Patty’s bright eyes. Billy had assumed the role of protector when Donagon married Jane and built a cozy cottage for his new wife and family on a parcel of Ravenhall’s vast grounds.

If Billy became half the man his stepfather was, he would turn out just fine. Henry’s background in finance had helped Jared save most of his fortune during the hardships of the last year. Jared’s investments had proved solvent, and though there had been some losses, their future was secure. Henry had won himself a trusted place in Jared’s business and immediately asked for Mary’s hand in marriage.

But there was so much to do yet. So many families destroyed, so little work, so much suffering. The country would survive, but the cost of the frivolity of the last ten years had been high, a lesson that would not be soon forgotten.

“Here you go, lass,” Donagon said as he handed Grace a steaming mug. “Chocolate fine as frog’s hair. Me Jane’s secret recipe.” He winked and cocked his head toward his wife, who waddled toward them, one hand on the small of her back, almost as big around as Grace herself.

A silly thought popped into Grace’s mind. She laughed aloud thinking of Will and Agnes, Sallie and Teresa, arriving next week with their families to join in the Christmas festivities. Both women were hugely pregnant with a third child. “Lord and butter, we are all as round as Santa! Didn’t anyone get any sleep last spring?”

Donagon blushed and seemed at a loss for words for a moment. “Aye, an’ Henry’s playing catch up, he is. Mary’s three months along. How fittin’ after all these years...” His voice trailed off. “Saints and crooked angels! I’d be forgettin’ me own head if it weren’t attached.” He reached into a pocket and withdrew an envelope as he started toward Jared, who carried his exhausted son in his arms.

“Your son fell asleep the moment his head hit my shoulder.” Jared looked down at the small boy nestled in the crook of his arm. He tenderly kissed a nose now berry red from the cold. “I’ll take him in and put him down for a nap.” He cupped Grace’s cheek in his palm. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“Yes, but I’m enjoying being outdoors for a change. I’ll stay until I’ve finished my chocolate.”

Donagon pulled Jared aside and spoke quietly to him, placing the envelope in his hand. He gave him a familial pat on the shoulder, then strode away to distribute the rest of the steaming mugs of chocolate.

Grace watched as Jared’s face scrunched up in thought. He flashed her a quick smile and turned toward the manor house. His purposeful stride faltered slightly, and she noticed he hugged his small son to his chest in an almost forceful embrace.

Their son bore both their names, Matthew Hathaway de Warre, so there would never be a question of where he belonged, his father had announced only moments after his son’s entry into the world.

Grace leaned back against the bench and sighed. Jared took such good care of all of them, working day and night to secure their future when the crash had come, and now doing what he could for those not so fortunate. She was a lucky woman, but one who realized the road of her life would have many corners, and she would trust that all would be for the best.

****

When Grace entered the library, Jared sat before the crackling fire in the comfortable wingchair, the opened letter on his lap and a pensive look on his face.

“What is it, Jared?”

He looked up. “A report from Mr. Thomas,” he answered and then added, “You remember Thomas. The firm I hired to look for my mother.”

It had been over two years. “He wants to meet with me tomorrow morning. It has taken so long I’d no longer held out any hope for it.”

Jared frowned—trying to conceal his apprehension, she suspected. If she could take this trial from him she would; it would be his to bear, but not alone. No, never alone.

She padded over to him and settled onto his lap. Her fingers were cold as she placed them around his cheeks warmed from the fire. “It will be fine, darling. You’ll see. It will be better to know, won’t it?”

Jared pulled her close and kissed the pulse point at the base of her throat. “Matthew is sound asleep, and our friends are preoccupied...”

She laughed. “How can you find me even remotely attractive now?”

Jared ran his palm over her milk-filled breasts. Even now, in her swollen state, she would not deny him. She’d never denied him, but she knew he would be content to lie beside her, inhaling her scent and filling his arms with her softness.

“Graciella, my beautiful treasure,” he murmured into her ear.

****

Mr. Thomas ushered the de Warres into his well-appointed office, looking very pleased with himself, and planted his stout frame on the corner of a broad oak desktop.

He smiled generously and began in a soothing voice, “I have good news. Your father and mother arrived in America at Ellis Island in the autumn of 1893. This information has been difficult to obtain, for all records of the time period from summer of 1892 to 1897 were destroyed in a fire. However, medical records of examinations were kept in a different location and showed that a young doctor named Primiano examined both your parents and found them fit. Your father was released when he produced the required fifty dollars to prove he wasn’t entering the country penniless, but your mother was detained.”

“Why?” Jared asked, his voice low and thick.

“She was unmarried and not allowed to enter the country unless retrieved by a male relative.”

Mr. Thomas leaned forward and smiled even more broadly. “I thought we had a dead end until I located Dr. Primiano, not an easy task, since he’d retired to the balmy climate of California.”