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SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Catherine was awakened from a troubled sleep by a scratching noise that seemed to be coming from outside her window. Sitting up, she cocked her head to listen just as the noise sounded again. Coming more fully awake, she slipped from her bed and crept across the room to peek out. And drew back with alarm when in the dim glow of moonlight she saw what appeared to be a figure pressed against the outside wall of the house.
“Catherine, it’s me, let me in!”
She thrust her head out the small opening. “Noah?”
“Let me in,” came his whispered reply.
Moments later, he was standing in her room, hurriedly peeling off his clothes. “I couldn’t sleep for thinking of you. I must have you.”
Catherine’s heart leapt with joy as she hastily tore off her night rail, the thrill of seeing him again so intense there was no room left in her mind for recriminations. Winding her arms around his neck, for the second time that night she drew him into her bed. “I am so glad you came back, my darling. I thought I would die from wanting you.”
“My beautiful Catherine,” he murmured between kisses, “I am yours, and you are mine. Naught can change that.”
Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her as his hands skimmed over the curves and valleys of her body. He kissed her eyes, her lips, her neck, her breasts. She gave herself up to each delightful sensation though a part of her wished he might go slower so she could savor each moment to the fullest. In only minutes, he rolled on top of her and she knew he meant to enter her.
“Noah,” she said with some urgency. She must tell him she’d never lain with a man before. “Noah, I’ve never. . . . Oh-h!”
But he had already thrust inside her, the knife-like pain so sharp it caused a cry of alarm to escape her. Her stomach muscles clenched as the wrenching pain replaced every ounce of pleasure she’d been feeling. “Noah, please, I . . .”
“Be still, Cat, we mustn’t be heard.”
His thrusting motions quickened. In seconds, he’d reached the apex of his own pleasure, and with a low moan, his movements ceased, and he fell limp upon her, a sheen of perspiration covering his back and chest.
Though she had not shared with him that final moment of their joining, her arms were still wrapped around him, and she was keenly aware of his hardness still buried deep within her. She was also keenly aware of the pain smarting between her legs and the pool of moisture that had spilled onto the bed linen. She wondered if it was his seed or her own blood that had flowed when his impatient thrusts pierced her maidenhead.
But she said nothing. His longing for her had been so great he had not heard her when she tried to speak of her virginity, but it didn’t matter. She loved him, and she truly belonged to him now, and he to her.
Suddenly his weight atop her seemed to grow heavier. It surprised her when his breathing deepened, and he became as limp as a rag. Had he fallen asleep?
“Noah,” she whispered, her lips close to his ear.
He didn’t move.
She tried to squirm from beneath him, but atop her, he was far too heavy. “Noah,” she said, a bit louder. “You are hurting me.”
“Hmmm,” came a guttural noise from his throat.
Squirming in earnest now, her struggle to extricate herself from beneath him finally woke him. At once, he was alert.
“I have to go.” He sprang to his feet and in the darkness began to fumble on the floor for his shirt and breeches.
Catherine sat up, hurt in her eyes and her tone. “It won’t be daylight for hours, Noah. Please stay a bit longer.”
He hopped on one foot as he pulled his hose onto the other. “I have to go,” he said insistently. “It wouldn’t do for me to be seen here at this hour.”
Fighting back a sob, Catherine watched from the bed as he buttoned his breeches, the long tangled locks of her hair the only covering on her body.
While tying the cords at the throat of his shirt, he bent to drop a quick kiss on her forehead. “Don’t worry, Cat. I’ll come back again soon.”
She scrambled to her feet and hurriedly pulled on her night rail, hoping for at least one last embrace before he departed, but he had already quit the room. By the time she darted after him into the adjoining chamber, he was gone, leaving the door standing ajar behind him.
Aware of the scratchy feel of the straw beneath her bare feet, Catherine raced to the door after him, but caught only a glimpse of his shadowy form as he disappeared into the night.
With a disappointed sigh, she pulled the door shut and, as quietly as she could, dropped the latch and bolted it. Her shoulders sagged as she slowly returned to bed, acutely aware of how empty and alone she felt.
Tears of despair overtook her as she realized that her previous rationale over Noah being too honorable to break his marriage vows now seemed foolish. But she could not lay all the blame for her hurt and disappointment at his feet. She should have made a more valiant effort to tell him she was a virgin. As it was he thought her a widow and therefore as experienced as he beneath the bedcovers.
The truth was, she had no idea what to expect in the bedchamber, but suddenly she recalled the words of the clergyman who’d spoken with her and Lucinda. With a somewhat red face, the man had haltingly said that to obtain harmony in the bedchamber often required a good bit of . . . practice; that due to inexperience, a husband and wife must learn how to pleasure the other. If she had told Noah the truth, she was certain he would have taken greater care not to cause her pain.
Thoughts of the clergyman also made her realize that she and Noah had indeed committed a serious crime. He was now an adulterer, and she a fornicator. Men were hanged for committing adultery. She did not know what would happen to her, except if their crime were uncovered, she’d be declared unfit to become any man’s wife. Fear and guilt spread through her like a fire gone out of control.
She buried her face in her pillow as tears of shame and remorse streamed down her cheeks. Just as painful was the fact that he had not held her close afterwards, had not kissed her again, not properly¾for the quick peck on her forehead didn’t count. Did his haste to leave mean that . . . no, no; it did not mean that he did not love her. It meant that he, too, knew they had committed a crime; that if he lingered, their sin might be uncovered, and they could both be publicly shamed and severely punished.
Suddenly she recalled with horror something else the reverend had said, that more than one father whose daughter had come to the marriage bed unchaste had slit his daughter’s throat in shame! Oh! How grateful she was that neither of her parents would ever know of her shame. Burying her face in her pillow, she sobbed out her sorrow, her pain, her confusion, her regret.
Much, much later, she climbed out of bed and moved silently across the room to slide the window covering shut, and to fasten the bolt. She could not undo what had happened tonight, but she solemnly vowed it would never, ever happen again.
The next morning, after Lad headed to the stream for water, Nancy gazed across the board table at Catherine, staring into her bowl of corn mush, now cold as she’d eaten no more than a spoonful.
“I . . . heard noises last night,” Nancy said quietly.
Catherine didn’t look up. She knew this moment was coming and she had no intention of keeping secrets from Nancy. “Noah was here. Perhaps you . . . heard him come in, or . . . leave. He did not stay long.”
“Ah. I thought the disturbance came from . . . in here.” Her tone was not the least accusing.
Nancy’s kindness caused tears of remorse to again well in Catherine’s eyes. When her anguish became an all-out sob, she buried her face in her hands. “Oh, Nancy, I’ve done something terrible.”
Nancy moved from her side of the table to slide onto the bench beside Catherine. Putting an arm around her friend’s shoulders, she drew her close. “Did he . . . force you?”
“No.” Catherine laid her head on the older girl’s shoulder, relishing the comfort she so desperately craved. “I wished it as much as he. I . . . made only a feeble attempt to tell him . . . he would have been gentler with me if he had known the whole truth. I should have told him that day in the woods that I have never been married, that I am not a widow. Noah is not a cruel man, he would not have taken me if he had known the whole truth.”
She sniffed back her tears and sat up. “He is jealous of my friendship with Victor. But . . . I am also jealous of Charity. I clung to my silly falsehood about having been married, because I wished to hurt Noah the same way he had hurt me.”
Nancy’s tone softened. “But he does have a wife, Catherine. And ye will only be hurt further if ye continue to see him.”
Catherine thrust her chin up with firm resolve. “I shall never see him again. Not ever.”
“There’s a good girl.” Nancy grinned as she rose to clear the table. “Although you did say the selfsame thing last week.”
“But I mean it this time.” She touched Nancy’s arm. “You’ll not tell anyone, will you, Nan?”
The older girl shook her head. “Ye’ve done such a great deal for me, Catherine, I would never betray you.” Nancy ceased gathering up the soiled utensils and gazed at her friend. “Without you, I would still be a serving wench in a rich man’s house, hauling coal up and down them back stairs till my bones ached from weariness. Then when I thought my back would break in two, her ladyship’d want hot water for her bath. Now, I have a new life. I am my own person. I, too, can marry one day and have my own home. You have made all that possible for me. Never fear for one instant that I would betray you.”
“I do trust you, Nancy. I did not mean to imply . . .” Catherine tamped down her fear and confusion. “I will always love Noah, but . . . what happened between us was wrong. I-I just hope he . . .” Tears again swam in her eyes. “Oh, Nancy, what will I do if he got a babe on me?”
Nancy exhaled a sigh. “We will manage. But, surely you know of some posset or root you could chew on that would make it go away.”
“Oh!” Catherine sat up straighter. “Why did I not think of that?”
“Because you are distraught, pea-goose.”
Catherine grinned sheepishly. “I am being a silly goose.” Swiping at the tears still glistening on her lashes, she scrambled to her feet. “I’d best get myself together before the children arrive for their lessons.” She reached to help Nancy gather up the rest of the soiled things. “Classes will be over this week. Harvest is upon us, and I, for one, will be glad to have the house to ourselves for a spell.”
* * * *
THE SUBJECT OF CATHERINE’S transgression came up again that night after Lad had quitted the house, and she and Nancy were once again alone. Although evenings in Jamestown were at last becoming cooler, Lad still preferred to bed down in the lean-to. Nancy was busy banking the fire for the night while Catherine folded the last of the clean linens they’d earlier brought in from the shrubbery.
Her task completed, Nancy propped the straw broom in a corner of the room far enough away from the hearth that it would not catch fire. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned to Catherine.
“I hope you won’t think I’m speaking out of turn, but I think I may have a solution to your problem.”
Catherine’s lips pursed. “And which problem would that be?” All day, she’d stewed over the fix she’d got herself into. If it turned out she were with child, she knew she could never bring herself to destroy it. But, what other choice did she have? She couldn’t have it, not here, not in Jamestown. She’d considered the possibility of returning to London, but what good would that do? She couldn’t support herself and a babe there. And she refused to throw herself again on the mercy of the Montcriefs. Because no viable answer had come to mind, her only hope was that she had not been fertile last night. But that did not solve her other problem: what to do the next time Noah came around hot to bed her? Despite her staunch resolve to the contrary, she was terrified she’d be as unable to refuse him the next time as she had been last night. Her stomach was still tied in knots, as it had been all day.
Nancy drew up a chair and sank wearily into it. “Do come and sit down, Mistress Fielding.”
Catherine grimaced. “My, it appears I’m to be taken to task over something.” Still, she gladly abandoned the pile of rumpled linens to join her friend by the fire.
“I’ve been thinking,” Nancy said, no longer the least bit timid around Catherine. “And I believe the answer to your problem is quite clear.”
Catherine squirmed. She knew that whatever Nancy said was well meant, and that, as a friend, she wished only to help.
“It is time ye married.” She held up a hand as if to forestall the many objections she believed would be forthcoming. “It would solve all your problems.”
Catherine chewed fretfully on her lower lip. “Go on.”
Nancy looked down, her cheeks flushed. “As ye well know, everyone here believes ye to be a widow . . . ”
“Oh-h-h,” Catherine groaned. “My pesky falsehood again. I never meant any harm when I gave Mr. Rolfe a wrong name. I was simply terrified that Lord Montcrief would discover me missing and guess where I’d gone. He would have dragged me back, and you, too, sure as we’re sitting here!”
“Indeed, he would have,” Nancy agreed.
The two had never fully discussed the matter, though Catherine was curious as to what Nancy knew of Lord Montcrief’s nature. “Did you know about the marriage contract?”
Nancy laughed. “Servants know ever’thin’. I told you the night we left that I knew how unhappy you were with the Montcriefs. Believe me, I quite understand yer reasons for wantin’ to leave his high-and-mighty lordship. But . . . as I was saying, since the whole of Jamestown thinks ye’re a widow, the fact that ye are no longer . . . ” Her gaze dropped to her lap. “What I mean is . . . ”
Catherine brightened. “My husband will not expect me to be chaste! I hadn’t thought of that!”
Nancy shrugged. “Seems logical. For fear of punishment, Noah will not say anything about what he’s done and if you say nothing, then . . . ”
“No one’s to know!”
“If the truth came out,” Nancy said gravely, “there’d be serious consequences . . . for both of you.”
Catherine sighed. “My deceptions seem to be piling one on top of another. It all began with such a small misdeed and look where it’s led.” She paused. “If I’d told Noah the truth, I’m certain he would not have . . . yet, on the other hand, if I had told the whole truth when I arrived here, oh-h-h . . .” Her eyes squeezed shut as she shook her head. “So much has happened. And so many things would have been different if I’d only told the truth.”
“To be fair, a good bit of the blame is mine. It was I who told your brother ye’d been widowed and had come to the New World to make a fresh start.”
“But I said nothing to the contrary. And I cannot confess to a falsehood at this late date, for that would brand me a liar and bring an end to my school. Who would trust a liar to teach their children?”
“It has become complicated. But I cannot fault you, Catherine. How could I when I am as guilty as you? It was I who nabbed the lemons.” She grinned. “In England I’d ’a been hanged for that.”
“In the New World, you’d have been shot to death! We are both criminals.” After a pause, Catherine asked, “What do you suppose happened when the Montcriefs discovered us missing?”
Nancy shrugged. “In your case, I expect the authorities fished some poor girl out of the Thames and convinced his nibs it was you. Me? I just became one more runaway servin’ wench what got tired of being tol’ what to do.”
“You are quite clever, Nancy Mills. The plain and simple answer to my dilemma is indeed to get myself a husband. It would change my surname yet again, though by an honest means this time. By the by, is Mills truly your name?”
Nancy’s gray eyes became mischievous, and for answer, she simply turned both palms upward.
“You slyboots.” Catherine laughed.
Nancy joined in. “Well, I couldn’t risk his nibs comin’ after me either! Though I doubt he would; runaway servants are a common lot.”
Catherine sighed. “We’re a pair, we are. If the truth were known, there’s likely not a man around who’d have either of us.”
“You could marry any man you choose!” Nancy protested. “You are the prettiest girl in Jamestown, nay, in all the New World!”
“I’ve seen many a young man tip his cap at you!”
Nancy blushed. “Perhaps, but there’s only one I’d care to share my bed with.”
“Jack?”
“I rather think he will ask me one day.”
“What is stopping him now?”
“He says he wouldna’ ask me to live in that rude hut he and Victor built down by the river. They call it a cottage, but it’s only a bark hut and will likely blow over come the next high wind.”
“I see no reason why you and Jack could not live here.”
Nancy’s eyes widened. “You mean it truly?”
“Of course, I do! Jack is working with Adam now. The walk would be no longer from here to the plantation than it is from where he and Victor live. And by water, even quicker.”
“Oh, my. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know that he’d agree to it, but . . . he might, if it is what I want.”
“Well, it seems a good plan to me,” Catherine concluded. “Now, we have settled your problem, what about mine? Whom shall I marry?”
“Victor Covington is top-over-tail in love with you. But, he thinks ye don’t care a fig for him.”
“I think Victor is a very nice man. He is kind and caring and . . . exactly the sort of man any girl would be proud to marry.”
Catherine thought the notion over. Suddenly it all made perfect sense. In her heart, she would always love Noah Colton, nothing would change that, but she could plainly see that the only way to remove the temptation he presented was for her to wed another man. She liked Victor well enough. She was not in love with him, but she did not believe she would ever be in love with anyone save Noah, so what did it matter whom she married?
At length, she said, “I expect I shall just have to make Victor Covington think otherwise, shan’t I? But, don’t put a bug in his ear, Nancy. I would like Victor to think our marrying is his idea.”
“I won’t say a word. But if ye are with child, the sooner ye let Victor know ye’d be receptive to his suit, the better.”
“Oh-h,” Catherine groaned, there was still that to worry about.