A Season Beyond a Kiss

  After laying aside the garments, Jeff braced his arms beside her and smilingly searched her face as he leaned over her. Her eyes were soft and liquid, melding with his, and as if awed by something beyond his ken, she lifted a hand and caressed his cheek with a sort of reverent wonder. Touched by her tenderness, he pressed a lingering kiss into her palm. Strange words rose unbidden to Raelynn’s lips, words that she had never before spoken to anyone other than her parents. The ease with which she had almost blurted them startled her, for she had never thoroughly considered them ere this moment in time.

  Though Jeff realized his wife was physically spent, he couldn’t resist a long, grazing caress over her naked body. Even bone-tired, Raelynn caught her breath at the sensations he awakened within her. Then his hand stroked into more private areas, and willingly she opened herself to him as her eyes darkened with desire. She watched him undress, and when he stood beside the bed totally devoid of clothes and bold as any man could be, she welcomed him with uplifted arms.

  Much later, Raelynn drifted off to sleep with her head upon her husband’s shoulder, her leg bent and resting across his sturdy thighs. As she sank into the depths of slumber, she whispered something that Jeff couldn’t quite catch at first. He canted his head to hear her better, but nothing more than a softly wafting sigh came from her lips.

  Stuffing the pillow more firmly beneath his head, he smiled at the ceiling. He knew what her low murmur had sounded like, but at this point in their marriage, he couldn’t be sure if he was letting his imagination sweep him away.

  9

  STIRRING FROM THE PLEASURABLE ARMS OF MORPHEUS, Raelynn lay for some moments trying to determine what had awakened her. The draperies which had earlier been drawn across the French doors had since been pulled aside. Beyond the upper panes of glass in the last portal, a bright October moon hovered in the night sky while vaporish clouds, driven by a westerly wind, drifted across its luminous face. The zephyrs rustled the tops of the huge trees. Now and then she could hear the boughs of the live oak at the end of the house scraping the brick facade, but beyond that meager sound, the room was deathly silent.

  Her hand reached out to the far side of the bed in search of the man in whose presence she had learned to trust and take comfort. Alas, no one was there. Her eyes probed the darkly shrouded areas of their chambers, but alas, she found no smallest evidence of the man within the confines of the room.

  “Jeffrey?” she called in a muffled tone, and her brows gathered in deepening confusion as the silence continued. Clearing her throat, she made another effort in a somewhat louder tone. “Jeffrey? Where are you?”

  Once again a hushed stillness answered her.

  Sweeping back the covers, Raelynn swung her legs over the side of the bed and hurriedly donned the nightgown and robe Jeff had left on a chair beside her commode. She searched the bedside table, found the tinderbox and managed to light the oil lamp residing there. By its meager light, she peered obliquely at the clock on the mantel.

  Half past one!

  At best, she had slept for no more than forty minutes. But where had Jeffrey gone? Why had he left their bed?

  Rubbing her arms against the chill sweeping inward on the wings of the night breezes, Raelynn wove an unsteady path across the room. The currents flowing through the open French doors were fairly bracing, but she gave hardly a second thought to the insufficiency of her garments as she stepped out onto the veranda. Certainly Jeffrey was out here, she assured herself, but after a glance in each direction, she grew even more mystified, for she realized she was quite alone.

  To her knowledge, Jeffrey had never once wandered from their bed in the middle of the night, and she was greatly troubled by his absence, for she had no idea what had prompted him to leave. Had he heard a noise that he had found troubling? Instantly Gustav came to mind, and at the possibility that that boorish lout might have decided to come back with his men to do more mischief, perhaps to revenge himself upon Jeff, a violent shudder shivered through her.

  “Jeffrey, where are you?” she called forlornly.

  Suddenly she fell victim to a chest-constricting emotion comparable to the grief she had suffered after each of her parents’ deaths. No longer confident of her husband’s safety, she felt lost and forlorn. It seemed as if in an instant of time her whole life had become barren and destitute.

  Raelynn clutched a trembling hand to her throat in some astonishment and stared into the shadows surrounding her as a slowly awakening awareness began to dawn. “Oh, Jeffrey,” she whispered. “What work have you done in my heart?”

  No answer came; nor did she have a need for one. Her emotions had transcended everything she had ever known before. The feeling likened itself to a burgeoning warmth that ran like a winding river through her, infusing her very being with essences of joy, serenity, benevolence, devotion and . . . Raelynn canted her head as she strove to bring the eluding thought into focus. No longer merely infatuation, she thought, but was it really love?

  Out of the corner of her eye, Raelynn caught a glimpse of a flickering light off in the distance and glanced around expectantly, only to be met with a darkness faintly mottled by the moonlight shining through the foliage at the tops of the lofty oaks. Wondering if she had imagined the tiny radiance, she squinted in the direction from whence it had seemingly come, hoping to find a viable source for the ephemeral twinkle. At first, she saw nothing, only heard the wind rustling through the leaves and a few droplets of rain falling belatedly to the ground, but as she swept her gaze slowly about, the lower branches of the live oak dipped downward with the impetus of the freshening breezes, allowing her to verify that there was indeed a wane light, and that it appeared to be coming from the stables.

  Normally at such an hour, the trainers and grooms would be asleep, but if there was perhaps a problem with one of the horses, then, with a certainty, they’d be up and moving about. Quite possibly Jeff had noticed the light from the house or had heard something and gone out to investigate.

  Raelynn ran back into the bedroom and hurriedly donned slippers before making her descent of the stairs at the end of the porch. She raced across the lawn, shivering as she went. Upon reaching the stables, she quickly discovered that the meager illumination was streaming from a single lantern hanging from a buttressing beam in Ariadne’s stall. Though the door stood open, she could see no sign of the mare and felt a sudden stabbing concern that the beautiful animal had colicked and was perhaps down in her stall.

  Worry quickened Raelynn’s strides, but barely an instant later, she was brought up short by a sudden squalling.

  A baby? Her mind had trouble accepting such a feasibility. Here in the stables?

  Raelynn no longer walked. She ran. Toward the stall. Upon reaching the door, she clasped the corner timber and was about to swing inward when she was brought to a stumbling halt. Ariadne was nowhere to be seen. In her stead was a hideous nightmare. Raelynn had a sudden, sweeping vision of blood. Everywhere! On the fresh wood shavings covering the clay floor! On the bodice and skirt of a yellow dress! On slender fingers curled limply in death! On a small bundled form from whence came the outraged wailing of an infant!

  Raelynn clasped a trembling hand over her mouth to smother a threatening scream as her eyes swept along the small, trim form sprawled grotesquely across the thickly mulched floor. Though the skirt was splotched with dark stains, the source of the bleeding seemed to have come from the area of the midriff. A deep pool of the gore had soaked the yellow gown above the slender waist. From there, Raelynn’s gaze rose upward to the golden hair and the youthful face.

  “Nell!”

  It was hardly much more than a strangled whisper that escaped Raelynn’s throat, but at the sound, a tall, manly form rose from the dark shadows obscuring the corner of the stall. A startled gasp was wrenched from her and, in sudden trepidation, she stumbled back, fully expecting to be attacked by this culprit who had killed the girl. Then the lantern’s glow lit upon the man’s face, and she could only star
e in confusion at his chiseled profile and bloody shirt.

  “Jeffrey? What are you doing . . .”

  Her eyes swept downward to the knife that hung limply from his grasp, a gleaming blade with a handle carved in the shape of a ram’s head.

  “Raelynn . . .” His voice sounded strange, as if it came from a distant vale. He stepped toward her, reaching out his free hand. His face looked strained, his mouth drawn in a grim line, his eyes strangely shadowed by an emotion she had never seen in them before. She stared at him as if he were a stranger. Yet, less than a pair of hours ago they had made love as man and wife, and only a moment ago she had come to a heartfelt realization . . .

  Her eyes dropped again to the blade that he still held and, from there, swept to the dead girl. In an instant, her awakening awareness that this man was as dear to her as her own lifeblood, her recent awareness that a change was taking place in her own body, the joy she had come to know in her husband’s arms and in his house were cruelly trodden beneath the heart-wrenching emotions of past doubts and fears, the heartache of parents who had been cruelly betrayed, and a deeply buried sense that her fairy tale existence was too good to be true . . . Whatever joy she had recently been savoring as the wife of Jeffrey Birmingham was marred by the sweeping stain of blood. A sobbing cry surged upward from the pit of her being, and this time she could not contain it.

  “Noooo!”

  No longer able to suppress her horror and the hideous suspicion that now assailed her, Raelynn retreated. For a moment, Jeff seemed frozen. Then, with a muttered curse, he hurled the bloody knife into the bedding near the corner of the stall and stepped toward her.

  “Hear me out, Rae . . .”

  A slash of her hand negated any possibility of that happening. Blinded by tears, she whirled and fled his presence, forcing every measure of strength she possessed into her legs as she broke into an all-out, desperate run toward the house. She should’ve known! It had all been too perfect! Jeffrey, their marriage, her growing involvement with the man! But it had all been a sham, a deceitful lie!

  Her heart hammering wildly, her choked sobs smothering her, Raelynn threw a teary glance over her shoulder and found her husband striding swiftly after her. By the time she bolted up the porch stairs, she was gasping for breath between harsh, anguishing sobs. Swiping an arm across her face to wipe away the flooding rivers spilling forth in gushing torrents, she raced into their bedroom and glanced around desperately for a place to hide. Jeffrey knew his chambers far too well for her to feel safe in any shadowed corner here. The best she could do was to delay him in his search while she sought a way to escape.

  Gasping from fear, torment and the exertion reaped from her fierce effort to escape, Raelynn slammed the French doors closed along the veranda and then dashed across the room, brushing away tears as she ran. Once she slipped into the hallway, she closed the portal quietly behind her. Barely had she gained the security of her former bedchamber and turned the key in the lock than she heard footfalls in the hall. It had taken Jeffrey less than a thrice of moments to discover her deception.

  Jeff tested the door briefly before he rapped his knuckles against the plank. Knowing well that his wife was terrified after what she had seen, he made an effort to keep his voice gentle and softly subdued, “Raelynn, my love, don’t be frightened of me, please. I didn’t kill Nell. You’ve got to believe me.”

  Crouched on the bed, shivering with fear and heart-rending emotions, Raelynn pressed violently shaking fingers to her lips to smother her sobs. In the dark gloom that surrounded her, she stared fixedly through blurring tears at the wooden barrier that stood between herself and the man she had come to know as husband and lover. She heard him mutter a curse and then, in some relief, his footsteps retreating to his bedroom. In the distance, a door opened and closed. She listened warily in trembling trepidation as silence reined unimpeded for what seemed like a century or more. Then a soft thump on the porch and an advancing light sent her flying off the bed as she realized what she had forgotten. One of the pair of French doors was always kept unlocked for the servants!

  An instant before her husband reached the double doors, she slammed the bolt home, securing her safety, at least temporarily. Bathed in the glow of the oil lamp, the two of them stood facing each other, scant inches apart, separated not only by the glass-paned, rectangular-shaped muntins of the French doors, but by the horrible suspicions that had suddenly erupted between them.

  A booted foot could have easily dispensed with the barrier, but Jeff knew that breaking down the door would likely send his wife fleeing like a woman possessed and, no doubt, solidify the awful suspicions in her mind. Somehow he had to soothe her fears.

  Meeting her gaze through the wealth of tears brimming her eyes, Jeff made every attempt to speak calmly. “Raelynn, my love, I realize you’ve had a terrible shock, but there’s no reason for you to be afraid of me. Don’t you understand? When I reached the stables, Nell was already dead. I was just falling asleep when I heard her scream, and I went down to investigate. Now, please, Raelynn, my love, just open the door and let me talk with you. I’m not going to hurt you. I would never do such a thing.”

  Over and over, the hideous reminder of Nell lying bloody and lifeless in the horse stall jolted Raelynn with waves of shocking horror. She had no idea why the girl had come out to Oakley again after Jeff had warned her not to, but with all the guests arriving and then later departing, Nell’s presence would hardly have been noticed, certainly not by any of the staff. The stable hands had been assigned the task of fetching water for the teams of visiting carriages soon after their arrival. It was a courtesy extended in consideration of the lengthy jaunt from Charleston and neighboring plantations and the possibility of the festivities lasting until the wee hours of the morning. After performing the service, the grooms had likely gone to their respective quarters and then, later, to their beds.

  Perhaps once again, Nell had come to the plantation to plead for support for a child she had insisted was Jeff’s, conceivably having reasoned that if he could give such a lavish ball in honor of his wife, then surely he could afford a monthly stipend for the babe. Nell’s most recent accusations had attested to her inability to comprehend Jeff’s reluctance to share any portion of his wealth with her and her offspring in spite of his vast riches. Quite simply she had failed to understand his refusal to be blackmailed. Though he could expend a generous sum saving a black girl from the abuse of her former master, there was a hard-core stubbornness within Jeff that would not allow him to be coerced by threats. Raelynn had seen it in her father, and she had glimpsed it in her husband. That hadn’t bothered her in the least. What now plagued her was the possibility that Nell might have driven Jeff beyond the limits of his patience. He had told the girl during her last visit that he wanted to strangle her. If he had become truly vexed with her, there was the possibility that he had lost his temper and put a permanent end to her harassment.

  Much as Raelynn shrank from the idea of her gallant, handsome husband harming any woman in any fashion, she could not dismiss what she had seen with her own eyes. He had been holding a bloody knife that had obviously killed Nell, a knife that he himself owned and normally kept on his desk in the bedroom. How could she thrust those facts from her mind?

  Raelynn’s face contorted with wrenching emotions as cascading tears continued to flow unheeded. Jeff was her beautiful husband. He had saved her from the dire fate of becoming Gustav’s possession, had transported her into a world of luxury, and had taught her the joy of marital bliss and fulfillment as a woman. Yet, at the moment, she felt as if she really didn’t know him at all. The experience of the past year had taught her how easily one could trust the wrong people and be betrayed by them. Hadn’t her own father been accused of traitorous deeds by other noblemen, albeit strangers to her? Her mother’s acceptance of Cooper Frye as her long lost brother had eventually led to her tragic death aboard ship. Lately trusting seemed a very risky business indeed.

  “P
lease go away, Jeff,” she choked tearfully, fearing now to meet his gaze through the glass panes. Those darkly translucent eyes silently pleading for her to listen and to believe in him had the strength to rend her very soul. “I need time to sort this matter out in my mind and for the shock to ease. Perhaps I can think more clearly after I’m allowed some time to myself.”

  Jeff lifted a hand to make another appeal, but when his wife’s gaze became riveted on the extremity, he glanced toward it and realized his fingers were covered with sticky gore. Slowly he lowered his arm to his side and heaved a despondent sigh. Talking to his wife at this point seemed futile; she was clearly terrified of him. Slowly he walked away, retreating to his bedchamber and leaving her to consider his innocence or guilt.

  Exhausted and trembling so violently she could hardly stand, Raelynn turned on wobbly limbs and stumbled back to the bed. Flinging herself across it, she buried her face into the pillows and allowed her sobs to flow unrestrained. The cold, dark, murky feeling in the pit of her stomach refused to yield to reason and trust. It was as if Jeff had already been convicted, and there was only the hanging to be witnessed.

  Dark, impenetrable gloom settled in with a vengeance, and at length, mental exhaustion dragged her down into a dazed stupor. Merciful darkness flickered at the edge of her awareness, drawing her down into a dark, deep vale.