Wild Irish Rose Page 11

  When I do this, his eyes darken, but he continues to hold me, looking into my eyes. “It will get better,” he whispers, and then he ushers me to the side bar to dish up our plates.

  This time, when we take the trip to England, I enjoy the voyage. Jason keeps me close to him, keeping his arm around my waist, when we stand at the railing. When we are in the cabin, he sits close to me and reads me articles from the magazines and newspapers available for us to entertain ourselves with.

  “Amazing! Look at this,” Jason says. “Seems the Fenians have made headline news. They robbed the armory last night,” he looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “I suppose you already know about it though, don’t you?”

  “If you think I was involved, you are mistaken,” I say truthfully.

  “How is your lover?” he asks suddenly. “I know very well you were not out wandering in the garden last night. Does he satisfies your needs? Does he make you feel like the beautiful woman you are?”

  “Do I ask you how Loraine makes you feel?” I ask back.

  “I just wonder what kind of man it takes to capture that wild streak in you, or is he as wild as you are?”

  “Only a true Irishman could ever fulfill me,” I say.

  “Then he is a true Irishman?” he asks.

  “Why do you care? You are the one who encourages me to take on a lover to keep me occupied.”

  “Perhaps I am regretting the suggestion,” he murmurs, and he brushes his lips against my ear.

  “Just the same, for the next week I cannot very well meet with a lover, unless Loraine finds me someone. Only I don’t believe there are any true Irishmen in England,” I chuckle.

  “Then you will just have to be contented with me,” he tells me, smiling back.

  “I thought you were anxious to be with Loraine again,” I accuse.

  “Maybe I too enjoy a true Irish woman, the way you enjoy a true Irishman,” he smiles, as he pulls me closer to him.

  I look up at him and start to believe that perhaps he is trying his own hand at flirting, in order to wear me down and accept this unnatural marriage. He most likely will keep me home and not only away from the Fenians, but away from Jamie as well.

  When we finally Dock in Liverpool, we take a train to London which takes another day. There, Jason hires a carriage and we are headed out of London to his mother’s home.

  We approach the delicately carved doors of his mother’s town house, where the butler answers the door and announces us. I hear the voice of a woman, exclaiming, “It is not my Jamie coming home, is it?” She bursts into the entryway, and embraces Jason in her arms.

  The name she calls him catches me by surprise. I am not sure I heard her right, when she called Jason Jamie. But I have little time to dwell on the coincidence of Jason having the nick name of my lover. “And who do we have here?” she asks, as she looks at me, pulling my attention to her pleasant face. “The young lady you were sending to visit that never arrived?”

  “The very one, Mother,” he smiles. “Only she is now my wife.”

  “Your wife! Do not tease, Jamie! I don’t recall any wedding invitation.” She gives his hand a slap.

  “It happened suddenly. I will explailn later. This is Rose, mother. The love of my life.”

  I smile to myself, thinking that I am far from the love of Jason’s life. I have been nothing but a thorn in his side from the beginning.

  Jason’s mother takes my hand in hers. “You are charming, my dear. I never thought I would ever see my son wed, though. He claimed he never would take up the institution.” She gives him a questioning look.

  “I had to change my thinking when the right woman came along,” Jason says, meeting my eyes with his, smiling to encourage me to support his statement.

  “But why does she call you Jamie?” I half whisper. I am feeling unnerved every time I hear her call him that.

  “My name is Jason James, O’Malley. Mother calls me Jamie for short.”

  “You do not look like a Jamie to me,” I say in a low voice. It seems a strange coincidence, I think, that I am married to a Jamie, while my lover is called Jamie as well.

  “You don’t have to call me Jamie,” he chuckles. “It doesn’t sound dignified anyway.”

  I glance up at him but he is not looking at me. He is smiling at his mother and she puts her arms around both of our waists, as she stands between us, and walks us into the drawing room. I begin to discover I really like Jason’s mother.

  “You both look tired,” she tells us, as she rings for some tea. “Once you have your tea, you should go up and get some rest. Then tomorrow, we will catch up on all that has been going on. There are all sorts of reports about a new uprising. The Irish just never give up, do they?”

  “The Irish only want what truly belongs to them,” I say. “Wouldn’t you do the same thing if it were the other way around?” I ask.

  “I see your point,” Mrs. O’Malley murmurs. “After all, I did marry an Irishman.” Then she changes the subject. “Loraine was so worried about you when she couldn’t find you. What ever happened?”

  “She couldn’t bare to be away from me, so she took the next ship back,” Jason answers for me. “It was then I realized I must marry her. I was going to let her get acquainted with you first, before I asked her, but when she came running back, I decided it wouldn’t do unless she was my wife, so I got a special license and made her my bride.” I raise my eyebrows at him and he laughs. “To hear Rose’s side of it, I am certain it would be quite different. She is afraid to admit how much she wanted me to ask her.” He gives me a wink, and I frown.

  “Goodness! Since she did marry you, it is obvious that she must have wanted you to ask her,” Mrs. O’Malley laughs.

  “He was quite convincing,” I murmur. “I couldn’t say no.”

  “Why don’t you two go on upstairs, then. This is all such a wonderful surprise. We won’t disturbe you in the morning. Just ring the bell when you are ready to have the servants helping you.”

  Jason takes my hand and helps me to my feet. “We will see you in the morning, Mother,” he says, and he is leading me out of the drawing room and up a flight of stairs.

  “Your mother is very friendly. I think I like her,” I say.

  “I am glad to hear that,” he smiles. “Perhaps now you can start liking me as well.”

  I look sideways at him as Jason opens a door and leads me into a large bedroom. When he closes the door, he turns to me, and begins to undo the buttons on the front of my dress. “You can consider this our wedding night,” he whispers. “Mother would not expect us to sleep in separate rooms.”

  “I….I had not thought about it,” I say in a shaking voice.

  “Dear Rose. You were married for three years and I know you have a lover. Certainly being with me cannot be that distasteful to you, considering you have allowed me to hold you at night and we have both seen each other’s bodies. Don’t act coy. Just accept the inevitable,” he whispers, as he continues to undress me. “I promise I will be gentle with you.”

  I don’t want Jason to make love to me. “You are using this as an excuse to take advantage of me,” I accuse. “Just because I have a lover, does not mean I wish to take you on as a lover as well! You said this would be a marriage in name only, and now you suddenly want to have a ‘wedding night’?” I stand glaring at him, and he gives a shrug, as he continues to remove my clothes.

  “You know I would never force you to do anything you don’t wish to do,” he tells me softly.

  “Like forcing me to marry you in the first place? Please do not insult me with your efforts at trying to guilt me into taking on some wifely duty that you have not earned!”

  Jason doesn’t answer, as the dress whispers against my silk petticoats, when it slides away from my shoulders, and descends about my feet. He merely turns me and starts to unfasten my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders. Then he turns me back and looks at me.

  “My wild Irish Rose,” he whispers. That is
what Ferrell used to call me and I can’t help but shiver, knowing how much I have already betrayed the memory of Ferrell, and if Jason has his way, he will try to make the memory of Jamie fade from my thoughts as well.

  “Don’t be nervous,” he encourages, and leans forward to kisses my forehead. His lips move to my eyes. I think, if I close my eyes, I can pretend it is Jamie kissing me. Only it is not Jamie kissing me. This man is supposed to be my husband, in name only, and yet he is attempting to seduce me into accepting him on a more personal level.

  Jason continues to kiss me, as though he is trying to coax me into accepting him, in order to have his way with me. I am feeling confused, because I don’t want to fight with Jason. I had promised to act affectionate towards him, while we were here, but I did not think it meant in private.

  I try not to stiffen as I merely stand before him while his lips continue to slowly scatter kisses over my shoulder, pushing the straps of my shift over my arm. Jason lifts me up in his arms and lays me on the bed. “Do you wish for me to continue?” he asks.

  “Do I even have a say?” I murmur.

  “I want to know if it pleases you,” he tells me. “I wouldn’t want you to be repulsed by my touch.”

  “I….I thought we were married in name only,” I half whimper.

  “It could be more, if you allowed it,” he murmurs against my skin, as his lips start to kiss my shoulder once again, as though persuading me to allow it to be more.

  “But you do not love me, nor do I love you,” I remind him.

  “There are many things I do love about you,” he tells me. “Perhaps we should just start with that.”

  “You only want my body,” I breath.

  “You have a beautiful body. In truth, it is a husband’s right,” he responds.

  “And of course, you plan to take it,” I assume.

  “Not unless you can give a little in return,” he requests.

  “How much is a little?” I want to know.

  “By not shunning me all together, he whispers, and he turns me to unlace my corset. His fingers, working the laces, stirs me in a strange way, as I fight against feeling anything at his touch. I try to strengthen my resolve to remain indifferent, only his experienced hands seem to find ways to weaken my resistance.

  At some point, he must have removed his own clothes. I am only aware of his touch, as I try to pretend it is Jamie touching me in this way. When he hears me whimper in reply to his touching, he moves over me, and takes his husbandly privileges. I find myself rising to him against my will, as my fingers tangle in his hair and my cries respond to the pleasure he is causing me to feel, until we are both trembling as one.

  Jason’s lips crush over mine. “Leave your lover,” he whispers. “Become my wife in more than just name only,” he begs with a groan.

  I don’t answer him. I am too confused to answer him. I think of the nights I have spent with Jamie, and the fact that he told me it was too dangerous for him to ever marry. And yet he claimed that he could not live if he thought he could never make love to me again. There is already a strong bond between us, which I do not believe could ever be broken, even if I never saw Jamie again.

  But I am married to this man. I could never marry Jamie, no matter how much I love him. I have to admit to myself that I do love Jamie. I thought I could never love anyone but Ferrell, and now I realize there are different kinds of love. My love for Jamie is nothing like the love I had for Ferrell. Now Jason is asking me to give up that all consuming love, which I suddenly realize I have felt for Jamie from the first moment I heard his mesmerizing deep Irish accent. As kind as Jason is being, I do not feel that same magnetism that Jamie has on my heart. My feelings are torn. Jason isn’t even a true Irishman, I think, and yet the way he has been making love to me, and begging me to become his wife completely, catches at my heart.

  My hatred for Jason is beginning to wane, and yet I cannot let go of Jamie. Not yet, anyway. Not until the uprising is complete and I discover if he will leave me or beg me to run away with him, which I would do, in spite of being married to Jason or how kind he is trying to be to me at the moment. I realize I still do not trust Jason.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  In the morning I am awakened by Jason kissing my lips, and I find my lips moving against his lips, and my arms going around his neck. He lifts his head from me, and looks deeply into my eyes.

  “You need to know something,” he tells me.

  “What,” I ask as I am trying to understand why I am even letting him kiss me?

  “Loraine is not and never has been my lover. You are the only woman I wish to make love to anymore, Rose.”

  My body stills. “I thought you were merely taking your husbandly rights,” I whisper.

  “And I will continue to do so, as long as you allow me to,” he informs me. “Don’t turn me away, Rose. I know there are many things you do not like about me, but give it time. I may sound English, but I am more Irish than you know.”

  “Then don’t demand anything of me,” I tell him. “I cannot promise to be the kind of wife you wish me to be.”

  “You want to continue with your Irish cause. Is that it, Rose?” he grumbles. “I know you have a way of slipping out of the house. You make me worry about you, Rose. I don’t want to find you dead some night, when you don’t return to the manor.”

  “You won’t find me dead. My friends will protect me,” I tell him.

  “They can’t keep you from swinging at the end of a rope,” he almost growls. “Your lover is one of those friends, isn’t he?” Jason states the obvious.

  “And he is Irish, through and through. I can’t give him up, Jason. Besides just being my lover, I think I actually love him.”

  Jason frowns. He is quiet for so long I start to worry. Then he lets out a sigh. “Promise you will be careful, Rose. I don’t want to lose you all together. This lover will tire of you eventually. I don’t want to see you get hurt because of him.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t love you like a wife should,” I whisper. “I know you are trying to be kind to me, now that I am your wife. But you forced me to marry you, Jason. It wasn’t my idea. I loved him before you made me marry you. You can’t expect me to just start to love you because you demand it of me.”

  “I don’t demand it of you. I didn’t think I would ever get your love, even if I did insist that you marry me, because you said once you would never love anyone but Ferrell. Now you say you love this Irish man? I thought maybe you would get used to the idea that you had a new husband, and eventually…” He trails off.

  “Why did you marry me, Jason?” I ask him for the second time since we got married.

  He pauses, and then gives me a mischievous smile. “Because, like I told my mother. You are the love of my life,” he murmurs, and then he places his mouth over mine.

  I do not believe him. He is only saying that to cover up the real reason he demanded I marry him. Yet it doesn’t make any sense. He never showed any inclination of loving me when I first came to the manor. He was all anxious to find me a husband so he could wash his hands of me, once I was established. Now he suddenly has me for life and wants me to commit to him completely. I almost wish Loraine was his lover, so it would distract him from me. How did I ever get myself into this mess anyway, I wonder?

  Jason is quiet as he gets dressed, but instead of calling a maid, he helps me get dressed and he takes his time, as his hands prove their experience in dressing a woman. Then I call a maid to help fix my hair.

  “I will meet you down at breakfast,” he tells me. Then he leaves the room and the maid continues to work with my hair.

  When I come down to breakfast, I discover that Loraine is there and Jason seems to be paying more attention to her than he ever had before. I know he is doing it to distract himself from my words earlier this morning. But what does he expect, I think? He cannot force me to fall in love with him, especially after his previous treatment of me up until now.

  His flirting with Lorain
e, only infuriates me all the more, seeing as how he had asked me to show my affection towards him, in order to convince everyone that I actually married him out of love. I fume inside, thinking about how he told his mother how much he supposedly loved me. Maybe he was lying to me about Loraine not being his lover. Maybe he said that to convince me to become a true wife to him. Perhaps he believes that if he gains my loyalty, I will finally bow to his wishes and stop associating with the Fenians.

  We all talk pleasantly as we sit at the table eating. Loraine chatters on, as usual, about all the social affairs she has been attending and how happy she is to be back in London again. Jason is sitting by me, now that our plates are dished up, but his attention seems to be focused on Loraine’s narrative. Apparently, he has missed London as much as Loraine had missed it. He is not as Irish as he claims, I think. This is his true home, not Ireland.

  “Are you sure the Merryweather’s won’t mind us coming at such short notice?” Jason is saying, and I realize I have missed half the conversation.

  “Of course not. Everyone has missed you, Jason, but I will have to take Rose into the shops and find her a ball gown to wear.” she tells him.

  “I wanted to buy her a wedding ring as well,” Jason adds and takes my left hand, bringing it to his lips. “I wouldn’t want the men to believe she was available,” he smiles.

  “Then it is settled,” Mrs. O’Malley states. “We shall all go into town and spend the day shopping and then come back here for dinner before getting ready for the Merryweather’s ball. This is so exciting to have you back again, Jamie,” she laughs happily.

  Every time I hear her call him Jamie, my heart leaps. Jamie will wonder what has happened to me, I think. He will think I am losing interest in him.