The Valentine Legacy (Legacy 3)

She walked away from him to touch the petals of a deep red rose. “I know,” she said, not looking at him. She leaned down and inhaled deeply.

“What are you going to do?”

She turned now and stared up at the man she’d loved since she was fourteen years old. It had been hero-worship then, yes, she knew that now. James had been a god to her, perfect in all ways, a splendid being who occasionally smiled upon her, yelled at her, recognized that she needed a kind word sometimes and gave it freely. But then she’d grown up and seen that he was a man, not a god, but oddly enough her feelings for him had just grown stronger, more abiding. They had changed into something very deep, as deep as the Ft. Point reservoir.

But it didn’t matter. James still looked at her as if she were fourteen years old, or a trollop in her new finery. No, it didn’t matter.

“I think I will work for the Duchess and the earl for several years. I will save all my money. Then I will come home and buy my own stud. I will race horses and I will win.”

He didn’t laugh. She was surprised that he didn’t. She was also thankful. She didn’t think she could have borne it had he laughed. Nor did he sound remotely condescending as he said, “That will require a lot of money, Jessie. Two pounds a week is about forty dollars a month. In two years, if you saved every pence, you’d still have less than a thousand dollars.”

“I know that. It will be enough. My father will surely sell me several stallions and mares at a cheap price. All I need is a start. I can grow and succeed just as you have.”

He looked away from her then toward the rich-leafed maple trees that climbed up a rolling hill. “I had more help than you know, Jessie. I married a girl with a large dowry. I had a great deal more than a thousand dollars to start up the stud here. In fact, Alicia’s father gave us Candlethorpe as a wedding present. So you see, Marathon had the chance to succeed just because I had ample funds to begin the stud here, and ample funds to lose money that first two years.”

“How much money, James?”

“Alicia’s dowry was nearly twenty thousand pounds.”

Jessie did a fast calculation. “Goodness, James, that’s much more than a hundred thousand dollars, that’s almost—”

“Yes, I know. I’m a rich man because I just happened to fall in love with a girl whose father was a baronet and very rich. She was his only child. He loved her very much. He urges me to visit him. He thinks of me as his son, though the good Lord knows I don’t deserve it. He doesn’t blame me for Alicia’s death, though I know his loss is great.”

“Why should he blame you for her death?”

“I planted my seed in her womb. She died in childbirth, the babe with her. We hadn’t even been married a year.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t, not really. You’re young, Jessie, you’ve never considered a man as other than a competitor to beat at the races. You can’t possibly know what it’s like to, well, that’s not important. So you see, money would be difficult.”

“Why do you blame yourself for her death?”

“The doctor was a fool. He dithered. Her labor was difficult and long. I was banished from the bedchamber and told it was women’s business. Foolishly I left only to return to hear her screams. When I got into the bedchamber, she was nearly dead. He’d let her die because he was too ignorant to know what to do. Since then I’ve done a lot of reading on childbirth, I’ve spoken to physicians in London. I know now that she could perhaps have been saved. If I had only taken the whole business more seriously, Alicia could still be alive today, our child as well.”

Tears fell down her cheeks. She made no sound. James saw her shoulders shake and turned her to face him. “Tears, Jessie? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry before. It happened over three years ago. I shouldn’t have told you about it. Now, dry your tears. Jessie, please.”

But she didn’t. She lowered her face into her hands and cried harder. James cursed quietly, then pulled her against him. “Shush, Jessie. It was a long time ago. The pain’s not close anymore. It’s in the past where it belongs, all vague and blurry, not sharp and prodding anymore. Hush, you’ll make yourself sick.”

She raised her face and stared up at him. Slowly, she raised her arms and closed them around his neck. “James,” she said only.

He didn’t know why he did it, but he did. He lowered his head and kissed her mouth. Her closed mouth. Her very soft closed mouth that had just a light smear of the lip cream. He felt a shot of lust so strong, he trembled with it. Lust? With Jessie Warfield? It was ridiculous. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip, saying against her mouth, “Open your mouth just a little bit, Jessie. Yes, that’s right.”

The lust was incredible. It was piercing and powerful, and he simply lost his wits. He cupped her bottom in his hands and lifted her to press her against him. She froze like a rabbit in the sights of a fox.

He felt like a near-rapist. He immediately released her and gently pushed her back.

“I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

She was staring at the buttons on his riding jacket. “You startled me. No one’s ever done that to me before. Perhaps you shouldn’t have let me down so quickly. Perhaps you should have let me grow accustomed to having your hands around my bottom. Perhaps—”

“Be quiet, Jessie. Damnation, I’m sorry. Despite your new plumage, you’re still Jessie Warfield, and it wasn’t good of me to attack you like that.”

“It was a very nice attack. Perhaps you could kiss me again?”

“No,” he said, then pulled her against him and kissed her, not a very gentle kiss, but one that was hot and wet and—She giggled into his mouth. He drew back and smiled down at her. “I made you laugh?”

“I dreamed about you last night. I dreamed you were kissing me, that it was hot and very wet and that you were pulling me tightly against your chest. When I woke up, it was Damper sitting on me and licking my nose.”