Page 5 of When Jess Wainwright’s Curiosity Was Satisfied (Wainwright Sisters #4)

Chapter Five

“ I find myself in a predicament.”

Vin’s head popped around the side of the pantry door. She’d recently proclaimed it was her new simples room - as if she were some medieval heroine living in a castle instead of a cramped two bedroom cottage with her remaining four unwed sisters.

“Is it a predicament that requires poison?”

Jess laughed despite herself. “You seem much too keen at the prospect.”

“I can make it undetectable. There are many ways to disguise it and fell one’s opponents. Or enemies.”

“I admit, that would be an easy solution. Especially since my predicament involves Cadoc Morgan.”

Vin’s expression grew speculative. “The inventor? Isn’t he the superintendent of your school?”

“Yes to both questions.”

“What’s he done? In the village they say he’s quite the rogue.” Her expression darkened with malice. “If he’s compromised you, I should poison him.”

“He hasn’t compromised me - yet.”

Vin’s brows flew to her hairline. “Yet?” She ominously asked.

“He absconded with my microscope last month. And he won’t return it unless I accept the terms of the illicit wager he’s proposing.”

“Why haven’t you gone to the magistrate?”

Jess shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

Vin’s eyes narrowed as she stalked from the doorway with one hand braced on her hip. “Why not?”

“He’s threatened to expose you.”

“That bloody blackguard polyp on the arse of a goat! He’s blackmailing you! Because of me.” Her face was dark with fury.

“What you do for the women in this parish is important.” Jess took a fortifying breath. “I’ll not jeopardize it. Especially since Fran’s busy with the practice she and Mac have and can’t assist you.”

“There has to be something I can do to help. To put the scoundrel in his place.”

Jess shook her head in refusal. “Our wager right now consists only of kisses. But I don’t trust him, or my own attraction to him, to restrict us. The most I’ve ever allowed a suitor is heavy petting over my clothes. And even that was repugnant.”

“You’re worried you’ll allow him to seduce you,” Vin narrowed her gaze and Jess felt like one of her own dragonfly specimens pinned to the corkboard.

She gulped. “Yes. And if that happens, I don’t want consequences. That's why I’m telling you all of this. I may be a scientist and I may know about biology and anatomy and procreation, but this is your field of expertise. I need to hear the entire lecture you give the women of the parish because I want to be armed with all the knowledge available to me.”

“I can do that. And I’ll provide you with the same contraceptives as well.” She turned to wipe her hands on the towel by the dry sink. “We should have it when Gert and Emily are occupied with other things. I know they’re both going to London after the holidays. Can you resist him until then?”

“I told him I wouldn’t give him my decision until the night of the school pageant. He’ll be there because of his niece and nephew.” Jess blew out a breath. “I can hold him off until then.”

Vin nodded sharply. “That’s plenty of time for me to gather what I need. Meanwhile, don’t let him waylay you.”

“He won’t have the opportunity to waylay me. I have far too much on my mind at the moment to allow him to do so.”

It was the last day of school before the winter holidays and although the look of the clouds made her uneasy, Jess was determined to stop in the village and purchase the dry goods she needed.

Vin had given her a list and coins that morning, and she had them tucked into the reticule hanging at her waist. The emporium was filled to capacity when the door chimed at her entrance, and Jess took her place at the end of the queue.

“John said he doesn’t like the look of the clouds,” one of the women ahead of her confided. “He bade me to pick up flour, sugar and salt.”

Jess had to strain to hear her over the hubbub, and Mr. Bennett’s voice tense when he called the next customer to the counter. “Does your husband think there’s a storm on the way?”

“Aye, he said the ache in his knee was telling him ‘twould be even worse than the one we had last winter.”

The storm last winter had stranded Arie on Thaddeus St. Simon’s farm. Arie had finally realized she need not make sacrifices for her sisters and she grasped her chance at happiness. She and Thad wed in the spring and she’d given her sisters a niece to dote on at the beginning of September.

Fran had delivered the babe using a method she’d called Caesarean, and she and her new husband Mac had stayed long enough to make sure the mother and child were well before returning to London. Fran had sent word via telegram last week they’d be coming home for Christmas. The only sister who wouldn’t be joining them was Cece. Her most recent letter had been addressed to all of them and she’d informed them of her decision to remain in Scotland for the holidays. Jess would sorely miss Cece’s sympathy and willing ears. Even if her youngest sister couldn’t solve her dilemma, her gentle words were like a balm and eased the heart.

The bell chimed behind her, just as Jess was going to ask her chatty companion if her husband had any further predictions. She felt a familiar prickle at her nape and knew who had just entered the mercantile.

“Fancy seeing you here, Miss Wainwright,” he rumbled just over her ear.

Jess kept a tight grip on her reticule and let it ground her. She’d managed to avoid him for two weeks, and now she was trapped. If she was rude, it would be observed and commented on. “I think many of us are stocking our larders because of the impending storm.”

“Caris sent me here for flour because she has half the household securing the windows and making windbreaks to wedge under the doors.”

“See, lass? I told you my John’s bones were right. Even the superintendent is preparing for what’s coming.”

“How fare you, Mrs. Conry?”

He must have moved closer, because Jess swore she could now feel the rumble of his voice through the thick wool of her cloak. She fought the urge to pull up the hood and block the vibrations.

“We fare well, Mr. Morgan. Please accept my thanks once more for your intervention at the mill. John needed Hugh’s help to get in the harvest. It would have rotted in the field if you hadn’t spoken a sharp word to the millwright about the boy’s hours.”

“I was glad to be of service, Mrs. Conry,” Cadoc said.

The flutter of hair at her nape alerted Jess he’d bowed.

Jess was relieved when only Mrs. Conry stood between her and the harried shopkeeper.

She gave the man a bright smile when she reached the front of the queue. “I need flour and sugar, and two spools of red thread.”

“We’re out of sugar, Miss Wainwright, and I can only give you five pounds of flour.”

“That’s fine Mr. Bennett, we can make do with the honey we have left instead.”

As the man packaged up her purchases, Cadoc leaned forward again. “I hope you have plenty of coal and blankets, as well, Miss Wainwright.”

“Not that it is any of your concern, but yes, we do, Mr. Morgan.”

“Just making certain there is something to warm your bed at night,” he murmured into her ear.

“You cannot be seen whispering in my ear, Mr. Morgan,” Jess whispered back. “It will set the tongues wagging.”

“If I convey you to your home, will it cause tongues to wag?”

“You know it will. You are much too forthright in your pursuit. You’ll have my answer in one week.”

“I am eager to accept your surrender.”

“This is not a battle, sir.”

“You may delude yourself as long as you like, madam,” he countered just as Mr. Bennett slid her packages across the wooden counter.

Jess counted out three pence for her purchase, thanked the shopkeeper, and turned back around. “I shall see you at the chorale, Mr. Morgan.”

The sky had darkened to an ominous purplish blue while Jess waited in the mercantile, and a few solitary flakes already danced in the air. She wound her scarf more tightly about her throat and pulled her bonnet firmly over her ears. The breeze was quite brisk and the rain from yesterday was already freezing in patches along the lane.

The cottage she shared with her sisters was less than a quarter of a mile, and her packages were light. Jess could easily avoid the treacherous spots and make it safely home on foot.

She settled her purchases more firmly in her arms and set off. She was halfway home when a mighty gust of wind nearly knocked her to the ground. She struggled against it, lowering her head to hide her eyes from the stinging bits of ice it carried with it.

Her feet were sliding from beneath her before she knew what was happening, and her entire body folded down upon her right ankle. When she struggled to rise to her feet, the ankle refused to obey. She leveraged herself upright again, sweat on her brow, and hobbled to the nearest building, the livery stable, so she could hold onto it and steady herself.

The snow was falling more thickly now. Great white puffs of ice that had already blanketed the road. She was nearly on the outskirts of town, and there wasn’t a soul stirring. Dense silence surrounded her, all sound smothered by the storm. Somehow, she would have to make it the last eighth of a mile home, even if she had to do it one throbbing, painful inch at a time.

She’d just mustered the courage to take the first step, when a flashy chestnut horse appeared around the corner. Jess immediately knew to whom it belonged. His head was bowed against the wind, but he sawed on the reins when he came in sight of her.

Cadoc Morgan practically leapt from his horse and led it over to her. “Are you hurt?” He shouted over the eerie howl of the wind.

“My ankle,” Jess confessed.

“Your cottage is on my way, I’ll make sure you get there safely.”

Jess braced herself to step forward, but he must have seen something in her face. He looped his mount’s reins over the hitching post and scooped her into his arms. “Obviously I don’t have a lady’s saddle, so you’ll need to grasp the pommel,” he said as he lifted her up.

“You needn’t escort me home, Mr. Morgan,” she protested.

He snorted in obvious amusement. “Then how will you get there, pray tell? You’ll be an icicle by the time you reach it and only make your ankle worse. What if you cause irreparable damage? Let me stow your packages in the saddle bags and we’ll be off.”

Jess watched in disbelief as he gathered all her purchases. He even chased down one of the spools of thread being hurtled pell mell down the lane by a gust of wind. Once he’d secured them all, he grasped the reins firmly in one hand and swung himself up behind her. She could feel the solid warmth of him against her back, and his body became a shield against the wind. When they lurched forward, Jess valiantly fought the urge to grasp his arm.

“I would have made it home,” she mumbled from behind her scarf.

“At the risk of what, you obstinate woman? Can’t you simply be grateful for my timely rescue?”

“I do not wish to imbalance the scales between us. And though I’m grateful for your rescue, it changes nothing. I am not ready to give you my answer.”

“I would not accept it if you tried to do so. When you come to me, Jess Wainwright, I want your eyes wide open and your steps without hesitation.”

“You seem confident of the outcome, Mr. Morgan.”

“I am a hunter of sorts, madam. And I’ve made certain you have little recourse but to accept my wager.”

“My sister Lavinia believes you are the devil incarnate. I’ve told her of your blackmail threat.”

“Given her profession, I should hire a taste tester.”

Jess smiled wryly. “She did ask me if I needed her to find a way to poison you.”

“I have risen to a place my family should never have risen to, and I’ve endeavored to stick to my principles while doing it. Your sister isn’t the first person to want my demise.”

“She’s quite adept. You should tread carefully. Perhaps you can simply drop me at the door instead of risking the chance of stirring her wrath.”

“You shouldn’t put weight on your ankle, and we are nearly there.” His arm grazed her cheek as he raised it to point out how close they were.

Jess could barely make out the cottage through the swirling snow. There was no sign of the rooster, who was usually perched on the gate no matter the weather. He had a tendency to peck at the heels of strangers and was a superb guardian.

When they stopped at the gate, he looped the reins over the newel post and dismounted first.

He raised his arms. “I’ll catch you.”

Jess closed her eyes and slid quite ungraciously into his embrace. He caught her, and when she would have slipped away, his hand slid to her hip. “No. You’ll allow me to carry you.”

“I know resistance is futile,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

This time, when he lifted her into his arms, Jess was determined to focus on some point in the distance instead of stealing a glance at his profile. She could feel the rise and fall of his muscled chest against her side, and the image of it naked and covered in a sheen of sweat and his ridiculously open shirt flashed through her brain. She laced her hands behind his neck and faced resolutely forward.