Wild Irish Rose Page 8

  “Go away and leave me alone!” I rage at him. “You have no right to handle me like that, in order to force me into bending to your will. You are an ogre, and while you insist I learn how to become a lady, you, yourself, lack manners! Leave me alone and let me go back to working my farm!”

  “My farm,” he corrects. “I was only showing you how easy it would be for a man……”

  “Any man who handels a woman like that, merely because she does not wear a petty coat, should have his hands cut off. I never wore a petty coat my entire life and not one farmer treated me the way you did! You think farmers are uncouth, but apparently, the English are not as civilized as they claim to be,” I spit at him.

  “Farmers are too busy working to even notice how beautiful their women are. Men of leisure have nothing else to think about except where they will find a willing lady to take to their bed.”

  “All the more reason to keep clear of men of leisure,” I state. “I shall never marry the kind of man you believe is right for me. If any of them are anything like you, I would spit in their eye, before I would let them touch me, or even think of marrying me!”

  Jason laughs. “You did not spit in my eye,” he chuckles

  “I detest you, Jason O’Malley! You are a despicable person, thinking you can mold me into someone I’m not. You are just using me as an excuse to have your lover under your roof. Why don’t you just marry Loraine, so you won’t have to use me as a ploy to have her there?”

  “Because I do not wish to marry Loraine. I told you I perfer the single life.”

  “So you can go about mauling women and thinking you can fob them off on society as a true lady? The kind of lady you perfer, is not the kind of lady I am ever going to become, so you might as well just let me fin for myself and marry who I please, if I ever do get married.”

  “Oh, so now you are considering it? Could it be that lover of yours is trying to persuade you to marry him?” he accuses.

  “Like you, he does not prefer a wife,” I say before I think.

  “So it is not your husband’s friend that wishes to marry you that you are dallying with,” he murmurs.

  “It doesn’t matter. It is my body and I can give it to whom ever I please. No one questions Loraine about her giving her body to you!” Jason gives me a dark look, but I continue. “I am told a widow can take on lovers, so why should you even care?”

  “He must be as wild as you Rose. Only a wild man could ever tame the likes of you.” Then he turns his horse and rides back in the direction of the manor and I sit on my horse, watching him gallop away.

  I slip off of my horse’s back and begin to sob into the grass. I am so confused, I don’t know what to do. I can’t leave Jason’s care and Jamie will go his own way, once the uprising is over. What is ever going to become of me? I will refuse to marry anyone Jason ever chooses for me, though, I vow to myself. At the same time, the thought of Jamie comes into my mind, and I remember the vow I made never to marry, or stop loving Ferrell. I believe that maybe I am hopeless!

  As I sob into the grass, I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jump. Then I see Randy kneeling down beside me. “What is it, Rose?” he asks, as I lift my head. “What ails you lass?”

  “I’m just missing Ferrell,” I lie. “I can always use that for an excuse, I think, and no one will question it.”

  “I miss him too,” Randy says, as he sits beside me and pulls me against him. “Just lean on me until the ache subsides,” he whispers, as he strokes his hand against my back.

  Eventually, I am able to contain myself and I give Randy a hug. “Thanks,” I whisper. “Do you know when the next meeting is?” I ask.

  “Since the raid on the armory was unsuccessful, Jamie has decided that we should make some bombs. He is going to bring the material but to a different barn this time. Three night’s time,” he tells me.

  “What barn?” I ask.

  “The one down by the river, next to the burned out farmshouse,” he tells me.

  “I’ll be there,” I tell him.

  “At least it won’t be so dangerous, unless someone finds us there. Just putting bombs together can’t be that hard,” he says.

  “Do you think we can really win this time, Randy?” I ask. “Can we rid ourselves of the British for good?”

  “I hardily hope so,” he murmurs, and then kisses me on the cheek. “See you in three nights time.”

  He helps me up on my horse and I ride back to the manor. I walk past Jason who is standing by the door, when I enter the kitchen. I go upstairs and ring for Shannon. I have her dress me and allow her to place the dreaded corset on me and then I demurely go downstairs.

  “You didn’t eat breakfast,” Jason says, as I come down the stairs. “Come have lunch.”

  I follow him into the dining hall. He helps me be seated but he does not check to see if I am wearing the corset. He acts like nothing at all had happened that morning, or the night before. I will just have to put it behind me, I think, but as much as Jason believes I am going along with his wishes, he is going to be very disappointed. I just have to wait until the uprising plays out, I tell myself, and then his power over me, won’t be as strong.

  We play chess after lunch, but my mind is too distracted to think. Loraine does not return that day, and so Jason and I eat dinner alone. Then he takes me into the ball room and pulls me into his arms again. We do not talk. He senses my mood and I deftly go through the steps of the dance like I am a wind up doll, just going through the motions in order to please him.

  This time, he doesn’t hold me close or try to kiss me. When I go to bed, he does not come to my room. I don’t know if I am relieved or upset at his sudden indifference towards me. It is a long time before I can fall asleep and when I do, I dream of Jamie making love to me. I realize I have not thought of Ferrell much in the last few days and this disturbs me. I felt I could never forget about Ferrell, especially so soon after his death. I wake up and try to think of making love to Ferrell, but while it is comforting to think of him, I cannot spark a passion. When I try to feel passion, only Jamie seems to come to mind.

  The next morning Loraine comes with the dance instructor in toe. He is French and good looking. I like him the moment I see him. His accent is delightful and he is so charming, he is always making me laugh. He promises to teach me all the latest dances and murmurs that if I don’t catch on right away, that he will be dedicated to me for as long as it takes. I think I will try to prolong the dancing lessons so I do not have to deal with Jason or Loraine. However, Loraine reminds me that I still must practice my flirting and etiquette. She suggests I practice my flirting with Franc, the dance instructor.

  I flirt with Franc, and Franc flirts back, making me blush and stealing kisses when he can. Though I am told it is tabu to kiss while dancing, he lures me into the corner of the ball room, behind a plant and tells me that if I am discreet, kissing could be aloud. I laugh and tell him how naughty he is, as I rap my fan on his wrist, the way I have been taught.

  I realize what Jason told me about men thinking only of how to lure a woman to his bed, must be true, because Franc is rather bold in his flirting and his not so discreet attempts at love making, when he has me alone. I wonder that Jason would trust him with me? Maybe he wants to distract me from going out to find a lover, if I have one right here under his roof?

  Several times Franc has lowered his lips to the top of my breasts, kissing them and trailing his tongue over them, which causes my heart to take a leap, just at the feel. At the same time, I am not attracted to Franc, though he is entertaining.

  “You know better,” I tease Franc, trying to practice the put downs I have been taught. “Surely you do not think me so lose as to give you licenes beyond, dancing.”

  “Oh Mon Chrie, let me show you how a true Frenchman makes love, and you will never go to anyone but a Frenchman,” he says, and licks against my ear.

  I laugh and try to make light of his advances, like a demure lady is supposed to be, but this
game of flirting seems so dangerous and useless, I think. I never had to deal with it when I was on the farm.

  “I need to order some building material for one of the farms,” Jason tells me. “Loraine wishes to accompany me, so I will leave you in the hands of Franc. We shall return by dinner time,” he informs me. I wonder that he trusts to leave me with Franc but then, perhaps, he wants to encourage me to have an affair with Franc and forget about my night time wanderings.

  Franc holds his arm around my waist as we watch them depart in the carriage. Jason probably wants an excuse to be alone with Loraine as well, I think idly. The way he had touched me was probably brought on by his frustration of not having Loraine there to fondle, I decide.

  “Now at last we are alone,” Franc says, as he turns and kisses my lips.

  “Please, Franc. You do not believe this gives you free rein to take advantage of me,” I say, as I pull away from his arm on my waist. “I am grieving the death of my husband.”

  “I will comfort you, as you greive,” he whispers, as he takes my hand and leads me back into the house. “Let’s explore the upper floor. I have never been up there before.”

  “It is closed off, since we do not have guests. The maids only clean it once a month,” I tell him.

  “All the more reason to go there,” he whispers. “Then we can be alone.”

  “I thought you were my dance instructor. Not my instructor in love,” I laugh.

  “Ah, but I could be both,” he smiles, and he pulls me to him, placing his mouth on my neck.

  “I do not need an instructor in love,” I tell him.

  “You mean there is nothing new to teach you? Then perhaps you can show me what you already know,” he laughs.

  “I do not think Jason would approve,” I tell him.

  “Why should Jason have to approve. You are a widow. It is your choice to take on a lover if you choose.”

  “But I do not choose you,” I tell him.

  “Just allow me to tease you then,” he says, as he leads me up the stairs to the upper floor.

  I do not know what he means by that. I assume teasing is like flirting and I give a laugh and follow him.

  Franc pulls open the door of an unused bedroom and closes it behind us. The light is barely filtering through the drapes and the room is in shadow. As soon as the door closes, Franc pulls me down on the bed. “You are not required to do anything, mon cherie,” he whispers, as he lays beside me on the bed.

  I am curious, but a little hesitant, as Franc takes a finger and begins to trail it over my neck, causing my skin to tingle as he drags it across my skin. I think it is pleasant enough. Eventually, his fingers trail closer to the tops of my breasts and he dips a finger beneath the lace of the color of the low cut gown. I take in my breath.

  “Just a little tease,” he whispers, lowering his head and pressing his tongue over the top of my breast, softly sucking against my skin. I start to feel a little alarmed. I start to stiffen, but then his lips move away from my breast and kiss up my neck, until he has found my mouth. I think I should reject his kisses, only my mind is in confusion at the moment. As he distracts me with his kiss, I can feel his fingers pulling against the top of my gown.

  “Franc, this is not….” I try to murmur, but his lips capture mine, not allowing me to talk, as his fingers push beneath the material of my gown. Now I am struggling to disentangle myself from him.

  “Do not fight against these feelings,” he whispers against my mouth, trying to calm my sudden mistrust of his intentions. “Allow your body to enjoy them. This is just a little dance in a different way,” he tells me. “I lead, and you follow.”

  “This cannot be proper,” I say, thinking that in spite of me wearing the dreaded corset, it has not dissuaded him. “I don’t even have any deep feelings for you.”

  “It is what your body is feeling,” he tells me. “Not what your heart feels. The French are experts in love. Love of a woman’s body and how to make it sing and dance beneath a man’s touch.”

  “You should not be touching me like this,” I state, as I try to pull away from his eager exploration. “I don’t want you as a lover,” I say firmly. “I think our dancing lessons are complete.” I sit up and pull the top of my dress up. “By the time I leave this room, I want you to be out of the manor. Jason never should have left me with you when he knew full well you merely wanted to suduce me, hoping I would take you on as my lover, until he can find me a sutible husband to take your place. I cannot believe how the upper class lives, and acts, if this is any sample of it.”

  “I hope I have not angered you,” Franc says, taking one of my hands, and kissing it. “I meant no disrespect!”

  “No. I allowed you to bring me here and touch me. I just don’t want it happening again, so please leave at once.”

  He looks down at me sadly. “As you wish, mon Cheri,” he murmurs. “I will miss you.” He slowly pulls the door open and leaves. I sit trembling, feeling completely ashamed of myself for allowing someone I didn’t even have any true feelings for to touch me the way he had.

  Why is Jason so set on me remaining here and eventually marrying someone he chooses for me? I am not important. What ever little effort I add to the cause could not make that big a difference, I think. He is trying to distract me from wanting to join the cause, but he is going about it all wrong. The more he does to show me what my life would be like if I remained part of the upper class, the more I am determined to free Ireland from the English.

  When Jason and Loraine return, I am sitting at the piano playing it. “Where is Franc?” Loraine asks.

  “My dancing lessons are completed. I have learned all the dances and any more dances Franc may have had in mind, did not interest me,” I say. “So I gave him leave.”

  “Are you telling us that you are ready to spring on society so soon?” Jason asks.

  “It has almost been two months. Give me a rest for one more month, and by then I may feel up to it,” I tell him, with a demure smile and turn back to the song I was playing.

  “I have to oversee the delivery of the material we ordered,” Jason says abruptly. “I will see you later tonight, once it has all been unloaded.”

  “That suits me fine. But I will probably be in bed. I feel a headache coming on. Too much dancing, perhaps,” I say, staring straight at him.

  “Then I will tell the staff not to disturbe you,” he smiles, and leaves the room.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I put pillows under my blankets to make it look like I am in the bed and then I tiptoe out of the room, down the back stairs and into the kitchen, where I follow the stairs down into the wine cellar. Finally I am out in the cool night air, feeling exhilarated and jogging over the moors in the direction of the river. When I arrive, it appears like most of the men have already arrived and when I push through the doors, I see they are all busy putting gun powder into containers and placing fuses on them.

  I stand for a moment, looking around, and then Jamie looks up and sees me. For a moment, his face looks grim, like he is really not happy to see me. I wonder if he has regretted having made love to me? In two strides, he comes over to where I am. “I thought I told you not to come,” he whispers.

  “Jason has tried to stop me from leaving the manor and he can’t do it, even by locking all the doors, so what makes you think you can keep me from coming?” I ask.

  “I thought perhaps you would respect my feelings for you,” he says. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I am more concerned with the movement,” I say. “I have to do it to avenge my husband’s death.

  “You are going to end up getting yourself killed, just like your husband,” he almost groans.

  “If that is what it takes,” I respond.

  “How are you getting out of the manor if the doors are locked?” he asks.

  “That is my secret,” I smile mysteriously up at him. “Just be assured that I know a way out that even Jaso
n is not aware of.”

  “For your sake, I hope he discovers it,” he smiles.

  “If he does, I will leave the manor for good,” I tell him.

  “No, that is not a smart move. As long as you are staying there, no one will ever suspect you of being involved with the cause. Let Jason protect you from the authorities, at least.”

  “Perhaps you are right,” I smile. “So I will have to be doubly careful that Jason never finds out how I am escaping.”

  “Have you ever thought that maybe Jason wants the best for you? He took you under his wing when your husband died. Most people like you and I don’t get that kind of consideration.”

  “What ever his reasons are for taking me under his wing, I hate him for it. He is trying to take over my life and I won’t have it!”

  “Never mind then,” he says quietly. “Come. I will show you what we are doing,” he tells me, taking me over by Randy, who is measuring gun powder out.

  He starts to show me how the bombs are assembled and when they are completed, someone takes them out in a wheelbarrow and stores them in the root cellar of the burned out farmhouse.

  We work for several hours until Jamie tells everyone it is getting late and we had all better get back and finish this up next week. Randy starts to take my hand but Jamie stops him. “I will see your little brother home,” he says winking, and Randy knows that Jamie knows I am not his little brother. He gives me a worried look, but then he shrugs.

  “Take good care of Ronnie,” he says.

  “I will,” Jamie tells him, and we start to walk out over the moors but instead of guiding me back towards the manor, Jamie heads towards my old farmhouse and my heart starts to quicken, as I anticipate why he wants to bring me there.

  When we enter the house, Jamie takes me into his arms and crushes me against him, like he couldn’t wait to get me alone. “I wish you would not come,” he breaths, only his actions belie his statement, as him mouth trails over my neck.