Jonah's Bride Page 8

  But he remembered the softness in her eyes, the vulnerability. And the gentleness he'd witnessed behind the terrifying spinster mask.

  "Father hated the tea and told me next time you were to leave something more palatable or he would come after you himself."

  "Tell the stubborn old man he's no match for me." A sweetness warmed her eyes, even if the tight line of her mouth did not ease. "I'll head upstairs and check on him."

  So, she hadn't come to call, but to keep her promise. Why his gaze followed her through the parlor, he couldn't begin to speculate. She was a completely disagreeable female, but his blood thickened simply watching her. He remembered her hot kisses and an unspoken promise of seductive passion, and his breeches grew tighter.

  He wondered about her lover, the man she'd been meeting on the night he fired on the wolves. Was she passionate and wild with him? Jonah could see it, could sense beneath the unbending primness that Tessa Bradford could drive a man beyond all control.

  "Major Hunter?" a low voice rose and fell over his name like a caress.

  He snapped his head around. Plump and pretty Violet Bradford looked up at him through her lashes.

  "I baked berry tarts just for you." She held out the wooden platter, probably the best the family owned, and dipped her chin.

  He did not miss the shine in her eyes when her gaze swept the room.

  "You baked these tarts?" He took the cloth-covered plate. Disappointment, nay, it was worse than disappointment, flooded his chest. "From what I hear Tessa does all the domestic tasks."

  "She lies. I'm quite capable-"

  "She had to leave my father's side this morning to prepare breakfast for your family," he ground out, illogically furious. "That is a daughter's duty. Aren't you the eldest daughter?"

  "Aye, but-"

  "So tell me," he demanded, "even if you did bake these tarts yourself, which I doubt, then why were you making foolish sweets to impress me when you should have been preparing the meals so Tessa could tend my seriously ill father?"

  Violet's seductive mouth crumpled and tears filled her eyes. She flew from the room.

  "You were harsh with her," Andy observed from the kitchen doorway.

  "Aye, I regret it." Confusion tore at him. He stared down at the plate. "I don't know what came over me."

  "I distinctly heard berry tarts mentioned." Andy bounded into the room. "Here, let me take that terrible burden from you. A man contemplating marriage has no use for berry tarts."

  "And I suppose a man not contemplating marriage does?"

  "Aye, a serious need." Andy peeked beneath the cloth. "Hmm. These smell heavenly."

  "Thank you." Tessa breezed into the room, dark curls falling into her eyes as she managed a small smile. "I hope you like them, even if you probably have an entire kitchen of baked goods by now."

  His heart knocked hard against his ribs. Jonah took a step back. "You take my brother's compliment, but not mine."

  A small smile twinkled in eyes as dark as night. "That's because your brother is not an overbearing oaf."

  Andy chuckled. "True. Thank you for the tarts, Mistress Tessa. These are the best we've received today. I'm off to devour them."

  Jonah waited until his brother had left the room. His throat dried. He lifted his gaze and saw her face, half hidden by a few thick untamed curls falling from her muslin cap. "Whilst Father is improved from last night, he is still so weak and frail. Do you think he will live?"

  "I wish I could say for sure." Tessa hugged the ends of her shawl tight around her, drawing the knit wool to cloak her well-shaped breasts.

  Fire sparked through his veins, making it damn hard to think. "His fever has broken."

  "A good sign, but his lungs are greatly affected. Your father is still gravely ill." She dipped her chin, and he could not read her face. As if she were suddenly shy, she took a step toward the door, then hesitated. "I know you can afford to bring in help and you may not want my services, especially after the way I lost my temper this morning."

  "I hardly noticed."

  She took another step toward the door. "I have a terrible flaw in my temper, I know, but until your father is stronger and if you want me to help out, I wouldn't mind."

  Silence filled the house, as if her softly spoken, amazingly quiet words had been blasted from a mountaintop.

  Jonah's heartbeat stuttered. "Wh-what did you say?"

  "I know the indentured servant Sarah left last month after fulfilling her contract with your father, and you've no female help to care for him." Tessa looked longingly at the door, as if she'd rather be anywhere but standing before him. "I'm usually asked to help in times like these, but I already understand why you might not want me here. I just can't abide the thought of a dear old man so ill without wanting to help."

  "I have to sit down." Jonah's knees buckled, and he eased onto a nearby footstool. "You like my father?"

  "He was kind enough to help me when I needed it once, when not even family would." Tessa's eyes filled with tears, amazing tears that shimmered like silver in her eyes, then spilled down her creamy cheeks.

  Honest, genuine tears that reminded Jonah of the woman who'd turned down the fine wool cloak when she needed one.

  "Long ago, my mother required a doctor, but there was no money for one. The colonel sent one and paid the fees. I hadn't even spoken of it to anyone but the minister. Yet your father brought out a fine doctor all the way from Boston, and it truly made a difference in easing my mother's suffering."

  Jonah remembered Tessa's ill mother, a thin woman so pale and weakened by a palsy and other afflictions that she couldn't walk.

  Tessa swiped at her cheeks, drying her tears. "It would mean much to me to care for your father now, to repay him in this small way. I need to do this. If you will let me."

  Andy cleared his throat from the kitchen threshold. "She bakes a perfect berry tart, Jonah. Aye, a fine cook indeed."

  His heart stopped beating for an entire minute. Jonah saw Thomas' shadow in the stairwell and knew he'd heard Tessa's plea.

  His entire body quaked, but he managed to stand. Reached out and took Tessa's small, work-reddened hand. "I would be honored if you would help us."

  A small smile warmed her face and lit up her eyes like a morning sun. He saw the goodness within, a genuine happiness that he'd accepted her offer.

  "I think I'll go upstairs right away and see what the colonel needs. Thank you, Jonah. You have allowed me to repay a long-standing debt, and it means more to me than you know."

  She spun away, darting up the stairs with a grace that bewitched him. Fire licked through his groin, filled his chest with longing. And dread.

  Andy's laughter filled the silent room. "I bet you ten pounds she'll refuse to marry you. She hates you, Jonah."

  He rubbed his brow, confused, enamored, horrified. "Aye. I don't think I have ever been this terrified in my life."

  Chapter Seven

  "Andy is scared of you," the old colonel croaked, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

  "I did my best." Tessa smoothed the clean sheet across Samuel Hunter's chest. "I'm glad to see I was successful."

  The old man gasped for air, choking on a laugh. "That a girl. Don't give 'em an inch. Andy said you handled Jonah with the confidence of a general."

  "He exaggerates." Tessa wrung excess from the washcloth, water splashing and tinkling in the china basin. "Lie back or you're going to start coughing."

  "Nonsense," the old man croaked, then coughed.

  Tessa set down the cloth and reached for the water pitcher. "I told you so."

  A smile lit Samuel's eyes as he continued to cough. A shallow, painful rasp that worried Tessa. She poured a cup of cool water and held it to his lips.

  "What did you do to deserve such royal treatment, old man?" Jonah strode into the room, wide shouldered and all male power.

  A tiny flame burst to life in Tessa's chest. She ducked her chin and grabbed the cloth to dry Samuel's chin.

 
; "Son, I'm on death's door, that ought to account for something." He gasped for air. "Give me more of that water, Tessa."

  She liked the tough old bird. She held the cup steady as he struggled to drink. Heat burned across the bridge of her nose, then in a straight line down to her mouth. 'Twas Jonah's gaze, as tangible as fire. She looked up. His elemental gaze held her tight as a snare.

  Like a trapped rabbit, her heart thudded. Her knees knocked. She glanced at the door and considered how on earth to escape.

  "I need to speak to Tessa." Jonah's voice rumbled like a caress, stroking over her skin with heat and promise.

  Danger. She could not allow this to go any further, this senseless physical longing for a man who was… was indecent. He was overbearing, bossy, and arrogant. What was attractive about that?

  Apparently a lot. Her blood roared like liquid fire through her veins.

  "You need to speak to me, eh? Well, I don't want to listen." That's right, scare him off, too. It worked with young Andy Hunter and the rest of the village.

  "Oh, I think you will want to hear what I have to say."

  "Do not be so certain."

  Big fingers curled around her wrist

  Tiny explosions pulsed up her arm.

  "You two go talk," Samuel wheezed. "Let a poor old man sleep."

  Tessa wasn't fooled by the small smile curving his mouth. She set down the cup and stood, her gaze fastening on the one man who could sneak past her defenses. "Fine. Then we will talk out in the hall, where I can be handy in case your father needs anything."

  Jonah's eyes darkened with protest.

  "Go on. I don't need a thing and besides, I can tell that you two want to be alone." The old man waved one hand.

  "Come, let's go for a walk."

  Lord, he was an enormous man, all brawny shoulders and powerful arms and a chest as broad as a woman's dreams. Tessa swallowed.

  "A walk?" She couldn't imagine where they might walk.

  " 'Tis pleasant in the sunshine." He gestured toward the small window.

  "Surely, in nearly freezing weather."

  "I'll lend you a cloak." Smooth as rum, sly as a devil, Jonah drew her around the bed, his grip on her wrist as firm as a manacle.

  Grim determination shone in his eyes. How he looked so exhausted. Tiny lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes. Darkness bruised the tanned skin beneath. Even the skin beneath the high cut of his cheekbones looked hollow.

  She hadn't realized. He needed to discuss matters concerning his father's health. Of course that could not be spoken within the patient's hearing.

  "I'm finished here for now," she managed in a light voice, determined to do her duty by Samuel Hunter. "I'll meet you outside, Jonah."

  His dark eyes flashed a warning. What was he feeling? She couldn't tell. Not with the grim set of his square jaw, his lips a tightly compressed line. A prickle of foreboding wrapped around her chest.

  * * *

  What was taking Tessa so damn long? Jonah paced in the backyard, the fallow garden nothing but a row of humps beneath the half-frozen layers of snow, ice and mud.

  He could picture her gathering up the wet towels and carrying them with the basin to the kitchen. Tessa, so neat and thorough, was also taking too damn much time. He wanted to get this over with.

  He wasn't at all sure he could find the courage to do it.

  Marry her? How his brothers had howled, bending double with the irony of it all. Yet it all came down to duty. Who else would tend her father? All but for her heart-tender feelings for the old man, she was completely unsuitable. Everything about her was wrong. From her sparse skinniness to her outrageously bossy ways.

  A man wanted a biddable wife, someone he could lead. Make decisions for. Be in charge of. A man's place was at the head of the family, not being browbeaten by a woman twice as smart as he.

  "I wager five pounds he falters," Thomas had challenged Andy's bet not an hour before. Serious minded Thomas. Who frowned upon wagers of any sort.

  He could always back out. That was it. Jonah studied the wrapped parcel in his hands. Hell, he didn't have to marry her. The mere thought of it…

  And yet she did not covet his wealth. They were close in age. And there was a tenderness in her touch when she tended her father. Such a thing could not be faked.

  Aye, but life with her would be…

  "Jonah?" She crossed the porch with a light step, facing into the wind. The current lifted back the tangle of untamed curls from her forehead and brushed her loose clothes back against her body.

  She was a slight thing, fine boned and deceptively delicate. Her blue gaze speared his, and his mouth opened but nothing came out.

  Run for your life, man.

  "I know the doctor fears your father mightn't recover." She lifted her skirts above the frozen ground and soft patches of mud. "This must be a hard time for you."

  His gaze landed on her slim fingers clutching that simple fabric. He knew damn well she'd helped grow the flax and harvest it, spun the thread and woven it, cut and sewed the skirts herself. One look at her callused hands told him she'd never had a respite in her life, never had it easy, and would never be a lazy, self-indulgent person.

  Just what he was looking for in a wife. Except she was Tessa Bradford.

  "Aye. The doctor is not certain, but he has reason to fear the worst." Jonah tore his gaze from hers. Agitated, he started pacing. What the hell was he going to do?

  Andy and Thomas were probably in one of the rooms behind him, sneaking glances between the curtains through the window. He could not see them but felt the amused weight of their gazes.

  "I hope you didn't come out here to try to kiss me again." Her chin came up, and she looked ready to fight.

  Jonah figured she needed to be tough just to survive in Ely's household. Maybe if she weren't so overworked and ill treated, she would be more biddable. Maybe. He wasn't sure.

  "Because if you want another kiss, I-"

  "Marry me." He blurted the words because he couldn't figure out another way to say them.

  Her bow shaped mouth fell open. "What did you say?"

  Oh, Lord, what had he done? He'd proposed to her. Just like that. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. What would life be like married to strong willed Tessa?

  But the image of her tending Father, her gentle hands soothing cool water across his brow, assured him. She was the right one.

  Besides, she'd worked harder making soups and teas and gruel for Father, changing his sheets, washing him, fearing over his fever, and going without sleep than all the women combined with their breads and puddings and pastries.

  Duty. He repeated the word until he felt fortified.

  Tears shimmered in her eyes. He realized she'd been staring at him silent for an entire minute. Silent. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps the problem with Tessa Bradford was that she was unhappy and overworked. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

  Even if he felt damn awkward, he held out the package. The cloak he offered her earlier. "I want you to have this."

  Her lower lip trembled. "Why are you teasing me like this?"

  "What?" Jonah shook his head. Something wasn't working properly in his brain. He thought she'd said-"Teasing you?"

  Her soft face crumpled, and she looked so heartbroken he had no idea what to do-or what he'd done.

  "You." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "You think this is funny? That you can play a joke like this?"

  She thought this was a joke? "Tessa, I-"

  "You are a heartless, cruel cad, Jonah Hunter, and I will hate you to the end of my days." She swiped at those tears, but they came faster now. "You know darn well what my fate is. Do you think I want to marry Horace? Don't you think I'm terrified? How dare you-"

  A sob wracked her slim body, shaking her like a young tree in the wind.

  Jonah stared down at the carefully wrapped cloak, uncertain what he'd done to make her think- Where was she going?

  He looked up to see the flap of her skirts a
nd the stiff set of her narrow back. Anger punctuated her fast steps, and he could tell she was still swiping at her tears.

  Jonah took off after her, dashing across uneven ground. "Tessa. Wait a minute."

  She broke into a run.

  Damn, she was fast, too. He raced after her. Cold air beat at his face. Confusion pulsed through him. He only knew he'd hurt her. She thought he'd been teasing her.

  "Tessa." His free hand closed around her elbow.

  "Leave me alone. You've had your fun." A sob twisted her last word, leaving him feeling big and foolish and helpless.

  Damn, just what he didn't expect from her.

  "Tessa." He pulled her to a stop, swung her around to face him. "Listen to me."

  Tears silvered her eyes. Her lower lip quivered. Another sob broke through her.

  "Tessa, I'm sorry." Damn it, he didn't know what to do. He was used to working with soldiers, and they sure as hell didn't cry. She looked vulnerable, felt so small. His entire hand fit easily around her elbow.

  "I shall never forgive you." Another wobbly sob.

  Contrite. Confused. Hell, he wasn't handling this the right way. "Tessa, I hope-"

  He stopped. She was crying and he didn't know what to do, how to make her stop. Tears kept spilling down her face, one after another, silent and sorrowful.

  It was so simple to reach out and brush at those tears with his fingertips. More tears came, but this time her gaze met his, so full of hurt he didn't know what to say.

  Propose to her. Remember your duty. Father. Procreation.

  At least he liked the prospect of procreating with her. His groin ached at the thought of her in his bed, those dark tangles of curls fanning across his pillow and clutched in his hands as she surrendered her body to him.

  "I want to marry you."

  She blinked, spilling more tears. "You d-don't." She sniffed, and even that seemed vulnerable. "Stop saying that"

  She didn't believe him. Confused, he stared down at her, his heart pounding like Indian war drums. At least he knew she didn't covet his possessions, didn't want him for his money. 'Twas a good start.

  "Tessa." He released his hold on her and began unwrapping the bundle he carried. The thinning daylight revealed the length of fine folded wool.