“James? You’re here with me?”
“Yes. Drink.” He got it all down her but it was a chore because it only seemed to make Jessie sicker. The concoction kept dribbling down her chin, and she kept choking. It was a foul brew; he knew that because he’d had a glass of it himself. But it would help in the long run.
“Poor Jessie,” he said, and laid a cool, damp cloth on her forehead. “No, keep your eyes and your mouth shut. You’re at Candlethorpe, in your bedchamber. I managed to get both of us on top of Bertram though he didn’t want to volunteer for the duty, the selfish sod, and complained most of the way home, slapping that long tail of his against my leg. I held you, all boneless, your head falling over my arm, and held the reins to Esmerelda in my left hand. That mare found the entire ride to Candlethorpe something of an adventure. She was also eyeing Bertram with a good deal of filly interest.”
Jessie wet her lips with a dry tongue but was wise enough to keep her eyes closed. She had to know. Because she felt ready for death, because she knew a person couldn’t bear this agony for very long, she was able to ask, “Did you mount me, James? Is it all over now? Was it all right? I didn’t make a spectacle of myself, did I? You will remember me fondly, won’t you, once I die?”
He was so surprised he just stared down at her, quickly pulling the cloth down a bit farther to cover her eyes. He knew he couldn’t lie to her any better than she could to him if she were looking at him. What to do?
“Oh dear, was it that bad? You can tell me the truth. Was it horrible for you? Do you want me to leave? I don’t think I can because I’m sure the end is near, so that will be just as well, won’t it?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say it was horrible—no, not at all. And yes, I’ll always remember you fondly, Jessie.”
“That’s a lie. You’ve cursed at me more than you have at your horses.”
“Perhaps, but death softens and blurs memories. I’ll wager after you’ve been gone only six months or so, I’ll have only fond memories of you.”
“How did you manage to mount me with all my clothes on?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it difficult. You were very pliable, very cooperative. Don’t you remember how you wanted me to get it all over with so things could get back to normal between us?”
“The last thing I remember is thinking the hollyhocks were the brightest pinks and reds I’d ever seen. I don’t remember anything else. And now it’s too late. I’ll die a virgin in spirit if not in flesh.”
“You are a very nice virgin.”
“What do you mean ‘are’?”
“Well, actually, I was thinking spiritually.”
“Was my fleshly virgin part acceptable, James?”
“Well, you must remember that you were extraordinarily pliable, Jessie. It required a lot of skill and concentration on my part just to accomplish everything and get us back to Candlethorpe.”
He watched as she lifted her left hand and touched her fingers to her nightgown. “You took off my clothes? You undressed me and put me in my nightgown?”
“Well, someone had to make you more comfortable. We are married, Jessie.”
“Oh dear, I don’t like this at all, James. I can’t even remember your taking off my clothes there in the meadow, much less remember your doing it again here. Did you even pull off my boots and stockings? However did you get me to stay up on my hands and knees so you could mount me? I would have thought I’d collapse.”
“Well, one doesn’t always have to pull off all of one’s clothing. Boots can stay on sometimes. It’s occasionally seductive, as are stockings held up with garters. Another thing, Jessie, men don’t always mount women. Men and women aren’t horses all the time.”
“I suppose I should thank you for getting it done so adeptly that I don’t remember a thing about it.”
“If you will remember, Jessie, I did tell you to trust me.”
If he wasn’t mistaken she suddenly turned a vile shade of green. He wasn’t stupid and he was fast. He got the basin to her just in time. She s
huddered and heaved and retched while he held her, careful to keep her braid from falling in her face. When finally the spasms were over, he said, “Poor Jessie, I’m sorry. Here, rinse out your mouth. You’ll be better now, you’ll see.”
She lay back against the pillows, moaning, her hands clutching at her stomach.
“Let me die now, James, please. Go away. I want to breathe my last by myself. Please say good-bye to Esmerelda for me. You will take good care of her, won’t you?”
“Yes, I swear I will.”
“Good-bye, James. I’m sorry you have to be a widower again, but it’s for the best.” She sighed deeply, saying in a whisper, “For you to become fond of me in six months isn’t bad.”
“It might not even take six months.” He laid the cloth over her eyes again, gently folded her arms over her chest, and said, “The six years went quickly, Jessie.” She moaned as he rose. He waited until her breathing evened into sleep.