~*~

  Jacque said good-bye as we entered Concord and let the driver take us the rest of the way unescorted to our home, a little over a mile past the Common. He forced a note into my palm before he’d left. I couldn’t open it until I would be in pristine privacy, which I knew would only be in the forest, and I’d just have to wait to read it until then, which killed me a bit.

  When we arrived home, although evening was encroaching, Jonah thought it best to start his journey to retrieve his wife-to-be. He used one of our horses, and I begged him to take both for the sake of his new wife. But he thought it best to be more frugal and have the one. He’d have his wife sit upon the horse on the way back.

  It was so romantic, what Jonah said and the look in his eyes. He appeared to burn from the inside out. Since I had gotten to know that feeling all too well, I let him travel even with the dark night approaching.

  I changed into my breeches, boots, and a working shirt and ran into the woods as soon as I could. The sun was blushing, exercising her need to exude the last bit of warmth and color, forming a scarlet and orange horizon. It was just enough light to read the scrawl of Jacque’s.

  My dearest Violet,

  Again, meet me again at our usual time and location. Tomorrow.

  Yours,

  Jacque

  Neatly, ever so carefully, I folded the note, all the while my solar plexus exploded, and my body burst with Chinese fireworks. I felt as flush as the bleeding sky. My skin was so tight, I itched, prickled, fevered and such heat exploded from between my legs. I trapped the note to my breast where my corset held it close to my heart. Then I ran. I ran after the sky grew into the vast color of Jacque’s eyes, and the midnight blue streaked then morphed into black, and still I ran. I ran while seeing the golden yellow owl’s eyes scowl at me; I chased the whitetail deer who had tried to find a fitting place to retire for the night; I raced the deer, jumping over logs, flying through the air until, at last, my body could hardly move.

  Prone, I lay heaving for air in the forest’s tall grass, knowing at that moment I was the most alive I had ever been. Alive, yet not free.

  Making it back to my family’s house on heavy legs, I ventured toward the porch that was on the east side of our house, the side closest to the Concord River.

  “Violet! Are you hurt?”

  I halted, not sure who was calling out to me. The voice was deeper and rougher than what I recognized, but finally I saw Mathew’s shadowed form chase out to me. The kitchen window glowed with stove fire and candlelight, and I could just make out Mathew’s blond hair and concerned face.

  “Mathew.” I smiled and opened my arms wide.

  He scooped me up and rushed me to the porch.

  “No, please, Mathew, I don’t want to be inside just now. It’s such a lovely night. Let’s enjoy each other’s company outside.”

  He stalled and looked down at me, his face drawn tight. “Dear, you’re drenched. Did you fall in the river?”

  “No. It’s my perspiration. I’m disgusting, hmm?”

  His worried face cracked with a tiny smile that lay only on one side of his face. “No. I—no. This is all from your toiling away on your farm? I . . . I will employ someone besides Mr. Jones. You need more help on the farm—”

  “I wasn’t working, Mathew. I was . . . running. You can put me down. I know I must be revolting to touch.”

  To my surprise he didn’t release me, but found an old wicker chair and sat with me on his lap.

  “Do you remember Reverend Jonas Clarke from Lexington?”

  I nodded, while Mathew caressed one of my arms. “Of course,” I said. “He was one of the reverends who came here to meet me after I’d read Song of Solomon in the meetinghouse.” I cringed, remembering the humiliation of reading that carnal chapter. “In my defense I was only eleven at the time and thought it was a metaphor for something I didn’t quite comprehend, but reasoned since I’d found it in the bible it must be holy. All the same, I’m sure he thought I was a devilish girl.”

  “No, no, on the contrary I was talking to him, and told him who my fiancée was, and he wished me a hearty congratulations. He said he thought only a sturdy Acton boy or some man from the wild frontier would be able to win your heart. He remembers you well and fondly, if I do say so. He thought you were a force to be reckoned with, those were his exact words.”

  “Hmm, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”

  Mathew’s hand roamed up to my shoulder, then my chin, where he moved my face to look more directly at him. “I’m honored you are engaged to me, Violet. Honored. I know you don’t see it, but you are a force to be reckoned with, like a Noreastern storm. I love your fierce devotion to your family, and will do my best to provide for your mother and sister, so you never have to worry about them again, my love. I will give them a big house, and ensure that Hannah marries a respectable man. I want you to never worry again, my darling. I will take care of Mr. Jones too. Whatever you’d like me to do, I will. My darling, I know, I know how very lucky I am to have you. I love you—”

  I interrupted his speech with a kiss. Mathew was such a good, good man. Perhaps if he would kiss me back, pour all his passion into my body, my soul would finally set fire to the right man, the man in front of me.

  Releasing his lips, I shyly looked away. He hadn’t returned my affections. I sighed, hoping Mathew didn’t think me too forward. Then, he grabbed my face in his hands and with reckless abandon pushed his lips upon mine. So surprise was I that I’d my mouth partly open. To my complete astonishment Mathew slid his tongue between my lips. He had never kissed me like that, and at first I felt invaded, but then his tongue softened and caressed my own delicately. Just as I was figuring out how to reciprocate his kiss, he gripped at my waist, then my back, pulling me hard against him. With my legs sitting across him, he captured me uncomfortably, then, in a swift and I thought rather accomplished move, he laid his hands on my hips and lifted. Somehow my legs widened. I sat astride him.

  He stopped kissing me, yet pulled me closer, carefully gauging my reaction. First his chest pressed against my own, then his stomach with mine, then . . .

  “Oh,” I whispered, very surprised, indeed.

  In another quick motion, I was standing with him holding onto my arms. Other than his hands on me, not one part of him touched me, and my body ached to have his close again.

  “I’m so sorry, my darling. I’m being . . . imprudent. Forgive me, please.”

  I tilted my head not sure what he was talking about. Forgive him? I liked whatever that was. Well, I knew what that was, but I had no idea that if he pressed against me in that way, I would feel . . . oh, I quite liked that.

  He kissed my hand then shook his head. “Again, I’m so sorry, dear. I’ll . . . Tomorrow is the first day of the congress. I have no idea how long it will run, but I’ll be here as soon as we can retire for the night. I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”

  Could he sit on the chair again and let me try to get close to him? That was . . . well, it was much nicer than I thought it would be. It was just the tiniest bit of a rub, but, oh, the sensation was delicious, delirious, and even more fireworks burst through my body. But instead of asking for what I wanted—and really, how does a lady ask for a tiny more rub, please?—I nodded, tripped on my own feet, and smiled.

 
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