SleepyHollow2BookBundle (30 page)

“Still, the bruises will be terrible,” Mrs. Jansen said. “John, you look as if you’ve been kicked by a horse on either side of your face.”

“If the entire village hadn’t seen the fight, maybe that’s what I’d tell them,” John joked. “Anyone would believe Gunpowder capable.”

Mrs. Jansen smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Perhaps you should—” A shadow fell over her as she spoke, and her smile rapidly disappeared.
 

Slowly, John turned on his stool, facing the looming form of Mr. Jansen.
 

“Come along, Matilda,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “We’re leaving.” His tone was so cold, the temperature in the room might have just dropped by several degrees. “And you,” he added, glaring down his nose at John. “I won’t have a liar and a brawler living under my roof as an example to my sons. You’re no longer welcome in my home.” With a sharp gesture toward Mrs. Jansen, he turned on his heel and strode stiffly out of the room. Mrs. Jansen followed reluctantly, shooting a regretful look over her shoulder at John.

A steady pressure had been growing ever-stronger on his hand, and he turned back around to face Katrina, who was clasping it fiercely, frowning after the Jansens.
 

Seconds later, Brom strode into the kitchen looking surly. He made a beeline for John and tucked a hand under John’s chin, angling his face upward and surveying it with glittering dark eyes. “Nothing’s broken, then?” He shot an enquiring look in Katrina’s direction.

She shrugged, her shapely shoulders rising and falling, causing her cleavage to swell appealingly over the neckline of her bodice. “I don’t think so.”

“Good.” Brom dropped his hand and simply stood there, a vein standing out, thick and throbbing, at the side of his neck.

“How are the guests?” Katrina asked.

“Scandalized,” Brom snorted. “Probably never been happier.”

The buzz of chatter could be heard in the next room, and the general tone of conversation did indeed sound more excited than worried.

“The Jansens left,” Katrina said, dipping her cloth in a basin, where blood blossomed red and vivid in the water, then dispersed, turning it pink. She dabbed the rag against John’s cheek again, and the cool kiss of moisture soothed his bruises. “John won’t be staying with them any longer.”

A look of understanding passed through Brom’s eyes, and his expression darkened. “That’s no matter. There’s plenty of room for him in our home.”

Katrina nodded, and John was mesmerized by the simple motion, by the movement of her lips when she said “plenty”.
 

“I wouldn’t wish to inconvenience the two of you,” John said, forcing his stiff jaw to cooperate. Oh, but he did wish it, very badly – or a part of him did, anyway. Another part of him feared living under the same roof as Brom and Katrina, a constant observer of the matrimonial bliss he could never be a part of. It would be a bittersweet sort of torture, being so close and so far removed from them at the same time. “I’m sure the family of one of my pupils will board me if I ask around.”

Brom shook his head firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ll stay with us.”

* * * * *

Hours later, John finally sat on the edge of a bed in one of the spare rooms in Brom’s house. The celebration at Mr. Van Tassel’s had become a sort of personal Hell after the fight; he’d stayed away from the festivities, mostly, but had nonetheless been the subject of much scrutiny from the other partygoers, who’d regarded him with transparent faces that displayed everything from pity to hostility. No one had dared to lay a hand on him – not after what Brom had done to Dirck. Dirck and his wife had retired from the party early, leaving for home as soon as Dirck had recovered the ability to walk.

 
John had wanted to depart too, but had been reluctant to abandon Brom and Katrina’s wedding celebration and return to their home alone, feeling like an intruder. So he’d waited until they’d left and traveled home with them under the dusky sky. Some guests had wanted to leave earlier, before dark, and others had wanted to stay much later – dusk had been a compromise, and as the sun had dipped behind the horizon, John had watched vigilantly for the silhouette of a headless rider. They’d made it safely to the farmhouse, but that same tension still coursed through his veins, tying his stomach in knots. When a knock came at his door, he jumped, nearly sliding off the edge of the mattress.

“Brom.” John nodded in Brom’s direction, trying his best to appear calm and at ease.

Brom entered without preamble, shutting the door softly. “I must speak with you.”

John took in the determined set of Brom’s jaw, along with the dark gleam in the man’s eyes, and repressed the urge to sigh. It was plain that something was the matter, but just being alone in the same room with Brom had John’s mind racing, spiraling into fantasies he didn’t dare act out. It had been days… “What is it?”

Brom sank onto the edge of the mattress, seating himself a couple scant inches from John. “It’s Katrina.”

John’s heart skipped a beat. “Is she unwell?” For the most part, she’d appeared radiant that day, but he’d noticed faint purple circles beneath her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept well lately. Of course, she and Brom
had
just been married, and with what John knew of Brom’s sexual appetite… He stamped down on that thread of thought, trying desperately not to picture their naked bodies entwined and heaving in some midnight act of newlywed passion.

“No,” Brom said, “it’s not that.” A moment of silence passed, and Brom exhaled heavily, as if trying to relieve himself of some internal burden. “We haven’t consummated our marriage yet.”

“What?” John’s neck twinged as it snapped around, and he felt his eyes go wide. There was nothing he could do to stop them as he gaped at Brom. “Whyever not?”

“We meant to on our wedding night, of course, but as I helped her out of her gown it was plain something was troubling her. I asked her what it was, and she broke down in tears.”

John listened, rapt, trying to imagine how the prospect of consummating her marriage to her beloved Brom could possibly cause her such distress.

“She said she had to confess something to me, and confess she did.”

Apprehension crept over John. Could it be possible that Katrina wasn’t a virgin? It was difficult to imagine her engaging in wanton behavior, but perhaps if it hadn’t been a matter of choice… Blood roared in his ears, as it had at the party, nearly drowning out Brom’s next revelation.

“She said she’s in love with you, John, and didn’t think it right to hide it from me.”

“What?” He slowly unclenched his fists as visions of Katrina being abused faded from his mind, replaced by numb shock.

“She said she felt she’d misled me by making it sound as if she’d kissed you for your sake. Apparently she did it for herself too, and now she feels terribly guilty about it.”

“Guilty…” John tried the word out – it felt strange on the tip of his tongue. He’d been no stranger to guilt, as of late, but to think that the same emotion had been terrorizing Katrina to such an extent… “Damn it, I should have stopped her from kissing me. I’m a selfish bastard.”
 

Several moments of silence passed, and though Brom said nothing, he laid a hand on John’s shoulder. The warm weight of it was a comfort that John didn’t deserve, but he couldn’t bring himself to shrug Brom’s touch away. “What can I do?”

“Come to our bedroom with me,” Brom replied without hesitation.

“What?” John couldn’t help but repeat himself. Shock suffused him, rendering him incapable of eloquence.

“A confession deserves a confession,” Brom said. “I’ve thought about it these past two days, and I can come up with no other solution. It wouldn’t be right to allow her to suffer when she doesn’t know the half of it; when she’s the last of us who should feel guilty.”

John swallowed – Brom’s news had left him feeling as if there were some sort of obstruction in his throat. “What about the second night? Did she cry then, too?” It was painful to imagine, but he had to know.

Brom shook his head. “Nearly. She threw herself at me, and I could tell that she was holding back tears. She was desperate to prove her love to me, and I wanted her so badly…but I couldn’t bear to do it.” He looked John straight in the eye, his voice becoming firm. “I will not have her come to our marriage bed for the first time out of guilt.”
 

John nodded, still mostly numb from the shock of it all. He’d begun to feel a little, though, and fear was rapidly invading his consciousness. What would Katrina think – God, what would she say when she found out? She was sweeter than sugar, and loved them both…but what Brom intended to confess was more of a blow than any bride could be reasonably expected to handle. Might she refuse to consummate the marriage and leave Brom? If that happened…it could be a matter of life and death for John and Brom both if anyone else found out why. Clearly Brom didn’t think she’d take that course of action, but worry weighed down John’s heart as he glanced at the door, imagining entering the room across the hall and baring his and Brom’s secret to Katrina.

“I can’t pass another night in that fashion,” Brom said, tightening his grip on John’s shoulder. “Not for her sake or my own – last night I laid with her, her soft body curled against mine, until she was sound asleep. Then I came in here and thought of her and you and…” He waved a hand over his crotch, shrugging.
 

John nodded. “I see. It must be done, then.” He stood and straightened his waistcoat, as if it mattered at all what he’d look like when he confessed to Katrina, probably breaking her heart.

Together, he and Brom crossed the hall.

Katrina sat perched on the edge of the bed in her and Brom’s room, her cornsilk hair streaming loose around her shoulders. Her cap lay beside her on the bed, and she held a brush in one hand. Her eyes were wide – she appeared startled to see both Brom and John walk into the room. And why shouldn’t she be? John fought the urge to leave, feeling as if he’d intruded on her privacy. At least she was still dressed.

“Katrina, there is something I must tell you,” Brom said, striding across the room and sinking onto the bed. He cast a quick but meaningful look in John’s direction. Reluctantly, John went to stand beside him.

Katrina lowered her brush into her lap, her gaze shifting between Brom and John’s faces. “What is it?”

“There’s no need for you to feel guilty,” Brom said, his voice as soft as John had ever heard it.

Katrina frowned, then opened her mouth, as if to protest.

“No,” Brom said. “Hear what I have to say.” He paused, waiting until she responded with a slight nod. “You needn’t feel guilty for loving John, for John and I have been in love for a long time.”

Confusion flickered visibly across her face, and John stood frozen, waiting for the truth to dawn on her. When Brom’s hand closed around his wrist, it didn’t take much effort for Brom to pull him down onto the edge of the bed. Then before he knew what was happening, Brom’s lips were on his, hot, soft and firm all at once. All the tension seemed to drain out of him, and for a moment, he felt as if he were melting. His damaged face twinged and ached beneath the pressure of Brom’s mouth, but it didn’t matter. As a riptide of longing rushed through him, he fought to restrain it, struggling with the urge to shove his tongue into Brom’s mouth, demanding more. He barely heard Katrina’s soft “oh” of comprehension. When Brom finally pulled away, it was both a blessing and a curse.

Brom met Katrina’s eyes, and John struggled to do the same. Her cheeks were already turning pink, and her rosy lips were parted in surprise. “Now you know the truth of it,” Brom said. “You needn’t ever feel badly over loving John again, for I’m far guiltier than you. John and I – we’ve known each other intimately, these past eight months, ever since he first arrived in Sleepy Hollow.”

To her credit, Katrina hadn’t fainted, screamed, wept or done any of the things John had imagined a bride confronted with such news would do. Instead she simply sat, staring at the both of them, her cheeks pinkened by a fantastic blush.

“We haven’t touched one another since the wedding,” John said, his gut roiling with anxiety. “I swear it. Katrina, we never meant to harm you.”

“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her cheeks were ablaze, but she met John’s eyes. “I know because I never meant to harm Brom, either, when I kissed you. It’s only that…I love you, John. I understand what it is to love two people, and to know it’s wrong, and yet, to be unable to stop.” She laid a hand over his, and her other over one of Brom’s. Her hairbrush tumbled to the floor, forgotten.

To John’s shame, his body relaxed beneath her touch. Well, most of it – his cock had stiffened as Brom had kissed him, and her touch, innocent as it was, certainly didn’t diminish its hardness.

Brom reached out and touched Katrina’s cheek lightly. “Will you forget this nonsense about feeling guilty, then?”

“I will, but… I don’t think I can stop, Brom. Feeling this way about the both of you, I mean.” Her hand tightened around John’s, and she frowned. “I know it isn’t right, but I love John as I love you. I know—”

“It can’t be wrong if I, your husband, won’t condemn you,” Brom said. “And I won’t. Do you love me less for loving John, Katrina? Do you wish me to stop?”