Page 28 of A Season Beyond A Kiss (Birmingham #2)

“GOOD HEAVENS , R AELYNN,”

HER EMPLOYER EXCLAIMED after swinging open the front door of Elizabeth’s modest house and finding his newest assistant leading an unusual procession.

Close upon her heels came the bewhiskered deputy who had each of Jeff’s knees tucked through his elbows.

The sheriff followed, having locked his own arms across their friend’s chest from behind.

The way the unconscious man’s head was lolling against Rhys’s chest, Farrell wasn’t at all sure if Jeffrey was alive or dead.

“What the devil happened?”

Stepping aside, Raelynn allowed the two men to precede her as she worriedly supplied the information.

“Jeffrey and I were attacked, and in the scuffle Jeffrey was thrown against a lamppost.

He hit his head and has been unconscious ever since.”

Subduing the urge to burst into frightened tears, Raelynn rushed after Rhys, who by then was closely following his deputy up the stairs.

She regained enough control over her self to call after them in a steady voice, “My bedroom is upstairs and to the left.”

Once they reached the door to her bedchamber, she swung it open and ran ahead to whip down the covers on the bed.

After spreading a clean linen protectively over the pillow, she stood aside as the men eased their burden back upon the bed.

“Careful now,”

she urged, hovering near.

Her husband was so tall that his hair brushed the headboard and the soles of his boots pressed against the footboard.

Until now, she had been of a mind to think that it was a fairly large bed.

It had certainly seemed enormous when she had huddled in it in lonely solitude.

Pausing to catch his breath, Rhys finally instructed his deputy.

“Go fetch Doc Clarence, and be quick about it.”

As the man scampered out, Elizabeth came to the door with Farrell and asked solicitously, “What can I do to help?”

Raelynn faced the woman, thankful for her offer.

“Dr.

Clarence will likely be needing bandages after he closes the gash on Jeffrey’s head.

If you possibly have some clean linens that have outserved their usefulness, Tizzy can tear them up into bandages.”

“No need to wake Tizzy,”

Elizabeth rejoined.

“I can do that easily enough.

It won’t take me any time at all.”

The brunette promptly left, and in her absence, Farrell approached the bed and gestured to the sheriff who stood on the far side.

“Jeffrey will be more comfortable without his clothes, Rhys.

Help me strip him.”

As the men lent themselves to that particular task, Raelynn poured water into the washbasin and placed the bowl on the bedside table.

Then she went downstairs to fetch some medicinal herbs and ointments from Elizabeth.

By the time Raelynn returned to the room, Jeffrey had been disrobed and covered with a sheet and a blanket.

Farrell sought some answers as she gently cleansed the gash in her husband’s head.

“Who did this thing, Raelynn? Do you know?”

“I haven’t a clue to the man’s identity.”

Her voice shook as she described his appearance.

“Our attacker was fully cloaked and had a black hood over his head.

He spoke, but in a low, rasping hiss that seemed strangely exaggerated.

He seemed tall, maybe Jeffrey’s height or even taller.”

“He outdistanced me in short order,”

Rhys interjected from the chair into which he had settled.

“Leads me to think the man not only has a lengthy stride, but long enough legs to lend him a definite advantage over most men.

I have a feeling he enjoys running, because when he got to a safe distance ahead of me, he turned and taunted me about my inability to keep up.

Then he said, ‘You young men have no heart to run fast.’ “

“Doesn’t sound like Fridrich or Hyde,”

Farrell concluded.

“No, this man was much taller than either of them, and if he called me young, then I would assume Hyde would be but a babe to him.”

“But why did he attack Jeff and Raelynn?”

the couturier pressed.

Raelynn gained their full attention by offering a supposition of her own.

“I may be mistaken, but I have a feeling the man’s real intent was to kill me.”

“You? But why?”

Farrell demanded.

She lifted her shoulders in a diffident shrug.

If indeed she had been the principal target, the supposition that her husband might have suffered once again because of her offered little comfort.

“I haven’t the faintest idea.

When the man first threatened me with his knife, he told me that my end had come and ...

I remember this part distinctly ...

he said, ‘After tonight, we’ll have no more worries about what you may find.’ When he said that, he had every hope of killing me.”

“He was certainly trying to accomplish that very thing when I shot the knife out of his hand,”

Rhys affirmed.

“Actually that was the second time he tried to knife me.

When the man initially launched his attack, he seemed res olute about killing Jeffrey, but it just might have been that demon’s way of removing obstacles to get to me.

In any case, Jeffrey and I will have to be far more wary of venturing out along dark, lonely streets until our assailant is caught.”

“Excuse me for asking,”

Rhys said a bit hesitantly.

“I know he’s supposed to be your uncle, but by any chance, could it have been Cooper Frye who did this thing?”

“No, I’m certain of that,”

Raelynn replied with confidence.

“Cooper Frye is much heavier and a lot clumsier than our attacker.

And if it’s any relief to you, I don’t consider him any uncle of mine.”

“Aye, I remember you telling me that once, but I didn’t know if you had possibly changed your mind since then,”

Farrell replied.

When Elizabeth returned with the newly made bandages, Dr.

Clarence was close upon her heels.

After the physician examined Jeff’s most recent wound, he rumbled, “Is this some more of Fridrich’s doing?”

“No, sir,”

Raelynn answered in a voice fraught with emotion.

“This assailant was infinitely more dangerous than Gustav.

He had every intention of killing us and might have succeeded if not for Rhys coming to our rescue.”

Dr.

Clarence raised his eyes above his spectacles and, fixing them on the sheriff, gave him an appreciative nod.

“It’s always reassuring when we hear that our lawmen are watching over the people of this fair city.

But then, I’ve never doubted Rhys’s dedication to that task.”

The sheriff finally offered more insight into his timely intervention.

“My deputy was making his rounds when he espied a cloaked form following the Birminghams.

He immediately came back to fetch me, but Charlie got turned around in the fog and couldn’t locate them immediately.

I struck out on foot, leaving Charlie to search elsewhere with the wagon.”

“Charlie likely saved Jeffrey’s life,”

the doctor replied.

“If he hadn’t been so wary, you’d probably never have found them in time, and Jeff would be dead now.”

“And Raelynn,”

Rhys added and, when the old man’s bushy eyebrows jutted upward in surprise, went on to explain, “The assailant tried to take her life, too.

I shot a knife out of his hand during one attack, but Raelynn has just informed me that was his second attempt.”

The lawman shrugged.

“I don’t know if my shot wounded the man that seriously, but just in case, be on the lookout for anyone who might come to you or some other doctor sporting a hand wound.”

“I’ll spread the word around, but the scoundrel may well tend his hand himself.

Something more serious might have brought the cad in screaming for us to save his life.”

When Dr.

Clarence finished wrapping a bandage around his patient’s head, he concluded soberly, “There’s nothing more now that can be done.

‘Twill only be a matter of waiting to see if Jeffrey regains consciousness.

He has had a hard blow to the head and is likely suffering a concussion.

Hopefully, it’s only a mild one if he is, but in any case, he may be out for a while.

Once he comes to, he’ll be inclined to think the top of his head is about to come off, but, with due rest, the headaches should eventually ease ...

at least that’s my hope.”

He faced Raelynn and lifted a crooked finger as he instructed her.

“If you can, keep Jeffrey in bed.

Don’t let him chase after your attacker as he did with Gustav, and don’t be taking him to Oakley where I can’t reach him in time if something happens.

If Elizabeth doesn’t object, let him stay just where he is.

Give him plenty of water to drink.

If the pain becomes too intense, slip him

a little laudanum that I’ve left on the table there, but mind you, girl, not too much.”

“I understand, Dr.

Clarence,”

she answered mutedly.

“I really appreciate the fact that you came out to tend him.”

She moved toward the chest where she had left her handbag.

“If you’ll wait just a moment, I’ll pay you.”

The physician held up a hand to halt her attempt.

“No, child.

Jeffrey can do that once he’s on his feet again.

I don’t take payment until I know I’ve helped someone.”

He waved farewell.

“I can see myself out.”

The sheriff hefted his bulk out of his chair.

“Charlie and I will take you back, Doc.”

The physician paused in the doorway.

“Thanks, Rhys.

My eyes don’t work as well at night as they used to, and most definitely not in this blasted fog.”

Rhys followed Dr.

Clarence out, but as Farrell moved to the door, he paused to speak with Raelynn.

“Jeffrey requires your attention here, so you needn’t worry about coming to work in the morning.

As much as I may need your help at the shop right now, I’d feel a far sight better knowing you’re taking care of him.”

“Thank you, Farrell.

So would I.”

Choking up, she turned aside to hide the tears that promptly sprang forth.

Her voice was heavily imbued with misery as she added, “Even if I went to work, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate while fretting about Jeffrey.

I pray no real harm has been done.”

“Shh, don’t cry, Raelynn.

Jeffrey is going to be just fine,”

Farrell murmured consolingly, laying a gentle hand upon her shoulder.

He sincerely hoped what he predicted would come to fruition and that he wasn’t just letting his confidence in his friend’s unswerving tenacity cloud his thinking.

“There’s not much that can keep your husband down.

I know that from experience.

We’ve been friends too long for me to doubt his fortitude.

Why, he’ll likely be hale and hearty on the morrow.”

Raelynn sniffed and, with a dainty handkerchief, hastily swiped at the wetness trailing down her cheeks.

“I hope so,”

she muttered thickly, finding it difficult to speak.

“I know my heart would surely die should he succumb.”

“You don’t have to fret about any of that.

Jeffrey’s not going to die.

And right now, you’re the best balm for him.

So stay and take care of him.”

A wavering sigh escaped her lips as she turned to him.

“I wish now that I would have stuck a knife instead of a hatpin into our assailant’s behind.”

Farrell blinked in confusion as he sought to assimilate her statement in the realm of what a proper young lady would do under similar circumstances.

“Excuse me, Raelynn.

Perhaps my ears were playing tricks on me.

Could you repeat that again?”

Her cheeks reddened beneath his inquisitorial regard.

“Never mind, Farrell.

It was nothing of any great import.”

“But you said something about sticking a hatpin in your attacker’s backside,”

the couturier pressed, his lips curving teasingly.

Mortified, she beseeched him, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

Laughter invaded his voice as he denied her request.

“Oh, but, Raelynn, this is too humorous to keep a secret.

I commend you for your spirit.”

Obviously this was one lady who had enough grit to help her man out when he was in danger.

“Not many women would have resorted to that precise method of revenge, but take heart.

Only our closest friends will know.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go down and catch Dr.

Clarence before he leaves.

‘Twill do the old man good to hear about this.

He’ll surely laugh over it all the way home.”

Raelynn responded with a mutinous pout.

“Looks like you’re making every effort to be our next town crier.”

“Most assuredly, madam, most assuredly,”

Farrell managed through his guffaws.

Raelynn felt like slamming the door behind him, but she dared not, for fear of discomforting Jeffrey with the noise.

Instead, she quietly closed the portal and began to undress.

Perhaps it was foolishness on her part, but she donned her prettiest nightgown, a garment that she hadn’t worn since leaving Oakley.

Heaving a disconcerted sigh, she turned the wick down in the lamp until the room was once again en tirely enclosed in a flinty blackness.

Then she crawled beneath the covers.

For a time she lay upon her back, staring toward the ceiling through the ebon darkness as she struggled to subdue an urge to snuggle against her husband.

It soon proved a temptation she could not resist.

Turning on her side, she pressed close against his long, male form and, as had once been her wifely custom, lifted a sleek limb to rest across his hardened thighs.

Her fingers swept upward along a corded arm, across a shoulder, and brushed a male nipple all but hidden amid crisp, black hair.

His breathing remained unchanged, and she grew bolder still, slipping a hand downward over his taut, flat belly until she took possession of the torpid fullness.

If she had held aspirations of awakening her husband from his stupor in such a manner, then Raelynn quickly realized that such an idea was no less than foolish.

Heretofore, even from the deepest sleep, Jeff had always awakened fully roused in response to her explorations.

But that was too much to expect in his present state.

His mind was held bound in a place where it couldn’t be reached, and that worried her exceedingly.

A sudden trembling took possession of her as she became inundated with all the heart-rendering possibilities.

He might die, he might never wake from his stupor, he might become a raving lunatic ...

and on and on and on.

“Enough of this!”

Raelynn hissed angrily in the impenetrable gloom.

“My husband will live! He must live!”

S HE WAS A CHILD AGAIN .

T HE TALL, GLASS-PANED DOORS of her father’s study stood open just behind her, and in the enveloping serenity of the carefully tended garden, she could hear her parents’ muted voices, comfortably close, drifting out to the marble step where she sat playing with her dolls.

Nearby birds were flitting from bush to tree, well out of the reach of her cat, Mischief, who cocked its head curiously as it watched them intently.

Gathering her dolls in her arms, she tottered out across the granite terrace.

Mischief followed along beside her, playfully pouncing here and there, fiercely attacking some leaf or bug it found along the way.

The path led to a stone bench residing in a restful spot under a tree, and she crawled upon it to play.

She called for her cat, wanting to dress it in doll’s clothes, but Mischief wouldn’t come.

Sliding off the bench, she tottered along the lane, following to where she had last seen the fuzzy animal.

Just ahead of her loomed the lofty, ornate wrought-iron gate that bordered her family’s property.

There was something behind it, something she especially sought. But what?

The gate was unlocked; it squeaked open as she pressed her face between the bars.

With an elated laugh she dashed through and found herself in another garden.

A butterfly fluttered past.

She lifted her hand and ran after it.

Bejeweled with color, it soared very high and swooped just as low, but always just out of the reach of her fingertips.

A deep voice, laden with laughter, came from nearby.

“You’ll never catch them like that, little miss.”

She turned, meeting emerald eyes and a grin that awed her.

Entranced by the black-haired young man, she approached and leaned her head far back to meet his smiling gaze.

Like the gate, he loomed so tall above her that he seemed to reach to the sky.

“Here now, let’s get you home before your parents come looking for you.”

Strong arms swung her up and settled her onto his shoulder.

Her perch was so high she squealed in fright and grasped a handful of his hair for security, but his hand held her tightly as he strolled along toward her home.

It began to rain again, a gentle misting rain that dampened her curls and the black hair through which her fingers were entangled.

D RIFTING UPWARD FROM HER DREAMS , R AELYNN BECAME came vaguely aware of a large hand searching upward beneath her nightgown.

She thought she was still dreaming until her thighs were gently urged apart and the explorations deepened.

Her heart soared with joyful relief as gentle fingers moved with tantalizing slowness over her softly swelling flesh, eliciting within her womanly being a quickening excitement.

Nothing but total darkness greeted her when she turned her head on the pillow.

“Jeffrey?”

“Aye, madam,”

a familiar male voice answered huskily.

“I’m here.”

“How do you feel?”

“Horny.”

She giggled.

“I was talking about your head.”

“I wasn’t.”

He patted upward in search of her hand and, drawing it downward, enclosed it over the engorged flesh.

“I see what you mean,”

she crooned, nuzzling his neck.

“You feel very nice ...

very warm, in fact.”

“So do you,”

he breathed as his long fingers continued to ply her silken flesh, “but you have too many damned clothes on for my liking.”

Raelynn readily sat up and shifted from hip to hip as she dislodged the tail of her nightgown.

Whisking the garment up over her body, she dragged it off her head and, with an outward sweep of her arm, banished it into the sea of blackness beyond the bed.

“Better,”

her husband muttered against her throat after resettling her close against him.

Her fingers threaded through the hair at his nape as his lips traced downward, and he heard her gasp in delight as his open mouth found a nipple.

Hungrily he devoured the soft peaks, tasting their sweet nectar, licking, teasing, evoking small, quickening tremors that seemed to shake her whole body.

Jeff braced on an elbow above her, prompting Raelynn to complain, “This bed squeaks, and Elizabeth’s bedroom is just down the hall.

What if she hears us?”

“Elizabeth is a widow, my sweet,”

he breathed, in the dark void searching out her mouth with his own and murmuring against it.

“She’ll understand a husband’s need after so long a wait.”

Raelynn curled her tongue into his consuming mouth, sliding it over, around and under his in a slow, sensual dance, all the while tasting the essence of the wine he had earlier quaffed.

She turned upon her side to face him and mentally groaned when the bed protested her movement.

She retreated from his kiss to ask, “How can I face Elizabeth on the morrow, knowing she’ll likely be aware of what we’re doing together tonight?”

Jeff sighed in frustration and sank back upon his pillow.

The heavy draperies were tightly closed over the windows, forbidding even a minuscule ray of moonlight to penetrate the sooty darkness.

It was impossible for him to see his wife’s face, and he had no way of telling whether this was a true concern she voiced or nothing more than a lame attempt to reject his advances.

“Do you want me to stop, Raelynn?”

“No! Never!”

she whispered emphatically, lifting a leg over his hip.

Her heel pressed between his buttocks as she anchored her now vulnerable softness against the lengthy shaft.

“I want you! I want to be your wife, your lover, your mate for life.

I want to feel you inside me, to be one with you, to bear your children, to possess you as you possess me, to touch you as often as I wish, and to feel you quicken in my grasp.

I need you, Jeffrey, most desperately.”

She slipped a hand downward between them and, in a fierce grip, closed it over the manly flesh, causing Jeff to catch his breath at the sweet, brutal intensity of her possession.

Her open mouth teased his in provocative invitation as she began a slow, methodical seduction upon his body, plying every skill he had taught her until the warm flesh was nearly throbbing for want of more.

Indeed, it was all Jeff could do to keep himself from being swept away by his growing ardor as she worked her will upon him.

His lips merged with hers in a rapacious kiss that soon had them straining against each other.

His hand returned to her womanly softness and found no resisting barrier, only a wifely eagerness to accept his intrusion and to comply with his rutting urges.

Soon she was arching her back, thrusting her breasts upward as an offering, and nearly writhing with the ecstasy of the tumult he created within her as he teased the sensitive swell and, with slow, purposeful deliberation, caressed the silken flesh.