The cool of the night had settled over their bodies, reminding Andrew that they were both naked and in a decidedly compromising position in the Strands’ garden. He kissed her and said, “We need to get to New York. My sister and her husband live there and they will help us marry.”
She stirred and stretched, lazily, like a satisfied cat. “Will your sister approve of me?”
Andrew had no idea. He hadn’t even considered the possibility. “Of course she will. Who could not, dear heart?”
His Mary Elizabeth chuckled. “You are sweet, Andrew, and I love you for it.”
She kissed his jaw. The skin there tingled, reminding him they were both bare in some very appropriate places. His hand crept back to her breast to cup it. Her flesh was warm beneath his, and he felt himself stir. She murmured approval and moved suggestively against him. Her lips grazed along his jaw until they found the corner of his mouth. Hers opened, allowing her to stroke that tender place with her tongue. Caught up in the pleasure she was giving him, Andrew rubbed his thumb over her nipple and she sighed. The soft exhalation tickled and teased. He shifted so their mouths met, then he kissed her deeply.
This time when they made love he was better able to control the pace, guiding her upward, then as she neared her climax, pulling back. He teased them both until neither could stand it any longer, then he quickened his strokes until she gasped and he could feel her falling over the edge into ecstasy. Her pleasure triggered his and once again he spilled his seed in her.
She fell asleep in his arms afterward. He lay awake, listening to the sounds of the night, every protective instinct alert. Absently he stroked the silken skin on her shoulder as she cuddled beside him. His thoughts drifted. If they did not make a baby out of this night’s work, he would be very surprised. That added yet more urgency to planning their wedding.
Should George Strand ever learn that Mary Elizabeth had given herself to Andrew, there was no telling what he would do. He would be outraged that his daughter had defied him after she had promised to wed Colonel Bradley. He wanted the alliance with Bradley and he was a man who did not like to be thwarted.
Would Colonel Bradley be willing to marry a woman who was no longer chaste? Andrew didn’t know him well enough to be certain, but he could guess. Bradley had agreed to a convenient marriage with Mary Elizabeth to take advantage of her mother’s social position in England. That Mary Elizabeth had given herself to another man would not change her birth or her heritage, so Bradley might still be willing to go through with the wedding. If he was, Andrew was quite certain that George Strand would do everything he could to ensure the marriage took place.
Andrew had no intention of allowing that to happen. Not only would Mary Elizabeth be consigned to a life of unhappiness, but he was not about to let another man raise a child of his.
The problem was, he still didn’t know how to make a marriage between himself and Mary Elizabeth happen. His sister hadn’t replied to his letter, so he had no certainty that she would help him, given her husband’s shipping business and his need to remain neutral when it came to the British. Then there was the difficulty of getting them both to New York, for he was certain the authorities would be searching for them from the moment they both disappeared.
Why, he thought, irritated, did he go to New York to wed Mary Elizabeth? He must have had a good reason, but for the life of him, he couldn’t fathom it. New York was days of travel away, difficult to access, even if the authorities were not watching for an eloping couple. There were other towns closer where he could hope to find a minister to marry them. And yet he had gone to New York and he and Mary Elizabeth had been wed there.
Why New York? True, his sister and her husband lived there. True too, it was far enough away from the influence of George Strand that a minister could be convinced to marry them without her father’s consent. Still, if he hadn’t known that he was supposed to marry in New York he wouldn’t be focused on spiriting Mary Elizabeth there.
He frowned. If New York wasn’t his idea, then was his present being influenced by the future? Faith’s mother, Chloe, had been clear that he would wed Mary Elizabeth in New York, but what if Chloe had been mistaken or had made it up to divert him? What if they were supposed to marry here in Lexington, in his parish church? He hadn’t even considered asking Reverend Turner to marry them. Why? Because Chloe had told him that he would marry elsewhere.
But if she had made up the information about New York, she might also have misinformed him about the success of his plan to wed Mary Elizabeth. True, the name Elizabeth seemed to have become entrenched in the family between his time and Faith’s. Elizabeth was a common name, however. It could simply be an accident that Faith’s sister was also an Elizabeth.
He stared up at the dark velvet of the sky beyond the shadowy branches of the pines and maples under which they lay. He would not believe that Chloe had lied about his marriage to Mary Elizabeth. If he accepted that she’d been truthful on that subject, then he must also accept her statement that they were wed in New York. That meant he had to make arrangements to get himself and Mary Elizabeth there as soon as possible. He hoped his sister would help him, but if not, he would find a way on his own.
A breeze ruffled the treetops. Mary Elizabeth murmured in her sleep and moved against him. He tightened his hold on her shoulders reassuringly. He would have to wake her soon, but having her nestled against him was a stolen pleasure he wasn’t yet ready to give up. He went back to plotting their elopement, her even breathing soothing his concerns while it stimulated his thoughts.
By land or sea? He still hadn’t made up his mind. There were dangers in both methods. To his mind taking a ship from Boston harbor was by far the quickest way to get them both to New York. It was also the most dangerous, from the point of capture. Both Boston and New York harbors were funnel points with limited access and exits. It would be easy for Strand to keep watch and to stop passengers from boarding a ship in Boston and for him to have all ships from Boston searched upon arrival in New York.
Travel by land had other dangers, speed being the foremost. Once his elopement with Mary Elizabeth was known, George Strand would set Colonel Bradley and his dragoons to hunt them down. And he’d be able to do it too, since coach travel was so much slower than travel by horseback.
All in all, despite the problems, Andrew thought that he was best served planning a sea voyage.
So be it. He would ride into Boston tomorrow and make the arrangements. His first action would be to check with the courier he’d used to send his letter to his sister. Perhaps there was a reply that hadn’t yet found its way to him. He hoped there was. He’d like some firm indication that he was doing the right thing.
The breeze stirred the tree branches again and Mary Elizabeth shivered in his hold. He knew it was time for them to part, but he didn’t want to. He had a sense that this night was special and he wished it to continue forever. His practical mind told him he was testing fate, that each moment he and Mary Elizabeth lingered in their bower risked their discovery. He kissed her cheek, then nibbled her ear, nuzzling her awake.
She stretched luxuriously, like a satisfied cat, and smiled at him. “Andrew?”
“I need to get you inside, love,” he said, kissing her cheek again.
She turned her face so their lips met and his gentle, affectionate kiss heated into something more. Their tongues touched, their bodies demanded. He pulled away, breathing hard. “Mary Elizabeth…”
She put her finger over his mouth. “Shh. I’ll go in. Soon. But first I want you to kiss me again and touch me here.” She took his hand and placed it on her breast.
Beneath his palm her nipple puckered. He swallowed, feeling his resolution evaporating. He moved his hand, letting his palm rub her sensitive place. She arched into him. “We risk all, love.”
“If Mama had missed me, she would have called the alarm already,” she whispered. “The danger comes with my return to the house. If I am caught then, what does it matter if we make love or do not, before I go in?”
Put that way, Andrew couldn’t argue. Nor did he want to. He let his reservations float away and put his mind to pleasuring the woman he loved.