Once and Always
Page 99
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Victoria smiled and started to decline the kindly invitation to supper; then she abruptly changed her mind and accepted it. She sent one of the older children to Wakefield with a message telling Jason she was dining at the vicar’s house, then leaned against a tree, watching the children play pirates and wondering how Jason would react to her unprecedented absence tonight.
In truth, she had no way of knowing if he’d care. Life had become very strange, very confusing. In addition to the jewelry he had given her before, she now owned a pair of emerald earrings and a bracelet to match the necklace, diamond eardrops, a ruby brooch, and a set of diamond pins for her hair—something for each of the five consecutive nights he had made love to her since she had admitted trying to seduce him.
In bed each night, he made passionate love to her. In the morning, he left her an expensive piece of jewelry, then thrust her completely out of his mind and his life until he again joined her for supper and bed. As a result of this odd treatment, Victoria was rapidly acquiring a very lively resentment toward Jason and an even livelier distaste for jewelry.
Perhaps she could have borne his attitude better if he actually worked constantly, but he didn’t. He made time to go riding with Robert Collingwood, to visit with the squire, and to do all sorts of other things. Victoria was granted his company only at supper and then later, when they went to bed. The realization that this was how her life was going to be made her sad, and then it made Tier angry. Today she was angry enough to deliberately stay away from home at suppertime.
Obviously Jason wanted the sort of marriage typical to the ton. She was expected to go her way and he his. Sophisticated people did not live in each other’s pockets, she knew; to do so was considered vulgar and common. They didn’t profess to love one another either, but in that regard, Jason was behaving very oddly. He had told her not to love him, yet he made love to her night after night, for hours at a time, drowning her senses in pleasure until she finally cried out her love for him. The harder she tried to hold back the words “I love you,” the more torrid his lovemaking became until he forced the admission from her with his hands and mouth and hard, thrusting body. Then and only then did he let her find the explosive ecstasy he could give or withhold from her.
It was as if he wanted, needed to hear those words of love; yet never, not even at the peak of his own fulfillment, did Jason ever say them to her. Her body and heart were enslaved by Jason; he was chaining her to him—deliberately, cleverly, successfully, holding her in a bondage of fierce, hot pleasure—yet he was emotionally detached from her.
After a week of this, Victoria was determined to somehow force him to share what she felt and admit it. She would not, could not, believe he didn’t love her—she could feel it in the tenderness of his hands on her and the fierce hunger of his lips. Besides, if he didn’t want her love, why would he deliberately force her to say it?
Based on what Captain Farrell had told her, she could almost understand the fact that Jason didn’t want to trust her with his heart. She could understand it, but she was resolved to change matters. Captain Farrell had said Jason would love only once.... Once and always. She wanted desperately to be loved that way by him. Perhaps if she wasn’t so readily available to him, he would realize that he missed her, and would even admit that much to her. At least, that was her hope when she sent a polite note to him explaining that she would not be home for supper.
Victoria was on tenterhooks during the puppet show and later, during supper at the vicar’s house, as she waited for the hour when she could return to Wakefield and see for herself how Jason had reacted to her absence. Despite her protest that it wasn’t necessary, the vicar insisted on escorting her home that night, warning her during the entire distance about the perils that lay in wait for a woman foolish enough to venture out alone after dark.
With wonderful, if admittedly unlikely, visions of Jason going down on one knee the instant she arrived and professing his love for her because he had missed her so much at their evening meal, Victoria practically ran into the house.
Northrup informed her that Lord Fielding, upon learning of her intention to dine elsewhere, had decided to dine with neighbors and had not yet returned.
Utterly frustrated, Victoria went up to her rooms, took a leisurely bath, and washed her hair. He still hadn’t returned when she was finished, so she got into bed and disinterestedly leafed through a periodical. If Jason had meant to turn the tables on her, Victoria thought disgustedly, he couldn’t have found a better way—not that she believed he’d actually gone to that much trouble merely to teach her a lesson.
It was after eleven when she finally heard him enter his room and she instantly snatched up the periodical, staring at it as if it were the most absorbing material in the world. A few minutes later, he strolled into her room, his neckcloth removed, his white shirt unbuttoned nearly to his waist, revealing the crisp mat of dark hair that covered the bronzed muscles of his chest. He looked so breathtakingly virile and handsome that Victoria’s mouth went dry, but Jason’s ruggedly chiseled face was perfectly composed. “You didn’t come home for supper,” he remarked, standing beside her bed.
“No,” Victoria agreed, trying to match his casual tone.
“Why not?”
She gave him an innocent look and repeated his own explanation for ignoring her. “I enjoy the company of other people, just as you enjoy working.” Unfortunately, her composure slipped a notch, and she added a little nervously, “I didn’t think you’d mind if I wasn’t here.”
“I didn’t mind at all,” he said, to her chagrined disappointment, and after placing a chaste kiss upon her forehead, he returned to his own rooms.
Bleakly, Victoria looked at the empty pillows beside her. Her heart refused to believe that he didn’t care whether she was here or not for supper. She didn’t want to believe he intended to sleep alone tonight either, and she lay awake waiting for him, but he never came.
She felt awful when she awoke the next morning—and that was before Jason walked into her room, freshly shaven and positively exuding vitality—to casually suggest, “If you’re lonely for company, Victoria, perhaps you should go to the city for a day or two.”
Despair shot through her and her hairbrush slid from her limp fingers, but stubborn pride came to her rescue and she pinned a bright smile on her face. Either he was calling her bluff or he wished to be rid of her, but whatever his reason, she was going to do as he recommended. “What a lovely idea, Jason. I think I’ll do that. Thank you for suggesting it.”
In truth, she had no way of knowing if he’d care. Life had become very strange, very confusing. In addition to the jewelry he had given her before, she now owned a pair of emerald earrings and a bracelet to match the necklace, diamond eardrops, a ruby brooch, and a set of diamond pins for her hair—something for each of the five consecutive nights he had made love to her since she had admitted trying to seduce him.
In bed each night, he made passionate love to her. In the morning, he left her an expensive piece of jewelry, then thrust her completely out of his mind and his life until he again joined her for supper and bed. As a result of this odd treatment, Victoria was rapidly acquiring a very lively resentment toward Jason and an even livelier distaste for jewelry.
Perhaps she could have borne his attitude better if he actually worked constantly, but he didn’t. He made time to go riding with Robert Collingwood, to visit with the squire, and to do all sorts of other things. Victoria was granted his company only at supper and then later, when they went to bed. The realization that this was how her life was going to be made her sad, and then it made Tier angry. Today she was angry enough to deliberately stay away from home at suppertime.
Obviously Jason wanted the sort of marriage typical to the ton. She was expected to go her way and he his. Sophisticated people did not live in each other’s pockets, she knew; to do so was considered vulgar and common. They didn’t profess to love one another either, but in that regard, Jason was behaving very oddly. He had told her not to love him, yet he made love to her night after night, for hours at a time, drowning her senses in pleasure until she finally cried out her love for him. The harder she tried to hold back the words “I love you,” the more torrid his lovemaking became until he forced the admission from her with his hands and mouth and hard, thrusting body. Then and only then did he let her find the explosive ecstasy he could give or withhold from her.
It was as if he wanted, needed to hear those words of love; yet never, not even at the peak of his own fulfillment, did Jason ever say them to her. Her body and heart were enslaved by Jason; he was chaining her to him—deliberately, cleverly, successfully, holding her in a bondage of fierce, hot pleasure—yet he was emotionally detached from her.
After a week of this, Victoria was determined to somehow force him to share what she felt and admit it. She would not, could not, believe he didn’t love her—she could feel it in the tenderness of his hands on her and the fierce hunger of his lips. Besides, if he didn’t want her love, why would he deliberately force her to say it?
Based on what Captain Farrell had told her, she could almost understand the fact that Jason didn’t want to trust her with his heart. She could understand it, but she was resolved to change matters. Captain Farrell had said Jason would love only once.... Once and always. She wanted desperately to be loved that way by him. Perhaps if she wasn’t so readily available to him, he would realize that he missed her, and would even admit that much to her. At least, that was her hope when she sent a polite note to him explaining that she would not be home for supper.
Victoria was on tenterhooks during the puppet show and later, during supper at the vicar’s house, as she waited for the hour when she could return to Wakefield and see for herself how Jason had reacted to her absence. Despite her protest that it wasn’t necessary, the vicar insisted on escorting her home that night, warning her during the entire distance about the perils that lay in wait for a woman foolish enough to venture out alone after dark.
With wonderful, if admittedly unlikely, visions of Jason going down on one knee the instant she arrived and professing his love for her because he had missed her so much at their evening meal, Victoria practically ran into the house.
Northrup informed her that Lord Fielding, upon learning of her intention to dine elsewhere, had decided to dine with neighbors and had not yet returned.
Utterly frustrated, Victoria went up to her rooms, took a leisurely bath, and washed her hair. He still hadn’t returned when she was finished, so she got into bed and disinterestedly leafed through a periodical. If Jason had meant to turn the tables on her, Victoria thought disgustedly, he couldn’t have found a better way—not that she believed he’d actually gone to that much trouble merely to teach her a lesson.
It was after eleven when she finally heard him enter his room and she instantly snatched up the periodical, staring at it as if it were the most absorbing material in the world. A few minutes later, he strolled into her room, his neckcloth removed, his white shirt unbuttoned nearly to his waist, revealing the crisp mat of dark hair that covered the bronzed muscles of his chest. He looked so breathtakingly virile and handsome that Victoria’s mouth went dry, but Jason’s ruggedly chiseled face was perfectly composed. “You didn’t come home for supper,” he remarked, standing beside her bed.
“No,” Victoria agreed, trying to match his casual tone.
“Why not?”
She gave him an innocent look and repeated his own explanation for ignoring her. “I enjoy the company of other people, just as you enjoy working.” Unfortunately, her composure slipped a notch, and she added a little nervously, “I didn’t think you’d mind if I wasn’t here.”
“I didn’t mind at all,” he said, to her chagrined disappointment, and after placing a chaste kiss upon her forehead, he returned to his own rooms.
Bleakly, Victoria looked at the empty pillows beside her. Her heart refused to believe that he didn’t care whether she was here or not for supper. She didn’t want to believe he intended to sleep alone tonight either, and she lay awake waiting for him, but he never came.
She felt awful when she awoke the next morning—and that was before Jason walked into her room, freshly shaven and positively exuding vitality—to casually suggest, “If you’re lonely for company, Victoria, perhaps you should go to the city for a day or two.”
Despair shot through her and her hairbrush slid from her limp fingers, but stubborn pride came to her rescue and she pinned a bright smile on her face. Either he was calling her bluff or he wished to be rid of her, but whatever his reason, she was going to do as he recommended. “What a lovely idea, Jason. I think I’ll do that. Thank you for suggesting it.”
