The Valentine Legacy
“Yes. I want it away from you. I didn’t realize you had so much hair. It covers far too much of your body. Put it high up on the back of your head.”
“If you’ll hand me the pins from atop the dressing table, I’ll do it.”
He was so close to her white flesh, so close to that mouth of hers and her belly and her thighs that he didn’t want to move, but he did. He retrieved the wooden pins and handed them to her. He didn’t seat himself again, but rather stood beside the bed and pulled off his clothes in record time. He even hopped on one foot to get off his boots.
When he looked again at his wife, her arms were above her head, her hands holding up all that hair, and she was utterly and completely white and naked. He thought he’d spill his seed at the sight of her.
“Your breasts are bigger,” he said, and took a step toward the bed.
“Yes, they are, aren’t they?” she said proudly. “Did you know that you’re always big when you take your clothes off with intent, James? Just look at you. If I didn’t know already that you did indeed fit, I would be howling with fear and running from this bedchamber.”
James couldn’t help himself anymore. He nearly leaped on Jessie but managed to hold himself back, taking another step toward the bed. He could see the soft flesh between her thighs, open to him. “You don’t mind that I’m all hairy and different from you?”
She grinned and began twisting her hair around her left hand. “I look like goat milk, yard upon yard of goat milk with breasts that weren’t anything at all before you got me with child. But you, James, yours is a complex landscape, all valleys and ridges and beautiful clumps of hair here and there, and your legs are thick and strong. I can see your muscles when you move. I don’t have any hard muscles in my stomach as you do. I very much like to touch your body, particularly your belly, well, and other places.”
“Manly places,” he said.
“Yes,” she said, “manly ones.”
He closed his eyes as her breasts rose and fell as she twisted and retwisted her hair. She liked to touch him? He shuddered. He touched his fingers to his belly. He supposed she was right about the muscles, though he’d never thought about it. She liked—very much—to touch him there particularly? She could have all their lives to touch him there, to touch him wherever she wanted to.
“Your nipples are darker. They were a soft light pink before. Now they’re richer, fuller. I want to take you into my mouth, Jessie.”
“Oh. I didn’t think you’d noticed so closely.”
She was excited; she had to be at least as excited as he was. How long did it take to put hair in a bun? Not as long as she was taking, he realized, as his legs were now pressed against the side of the bed. “Jessie, you’re teasing me. How long have you been planning this?”
“Since my stomach settled before dinner. Since I realized you were depriving me just because of Mr. Tom. Badger patted me on the head, he was so pleased I didn’t retch up his delicious stewed mutton kidneys.”
“Don’t put your hair in a bun, Jessie. Just drop it down your back, that’s it. Give me the brush. Thank you. Now, lie down on your back. I want to look at you.”
He knew he’d taken control from her, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted her so badly he knew he’d burst with it if he didn’t get inside her quickly. Ah, the pleasure he would give her. He thought about Mr. Tom, then dismissed the phantom from his mind. She was his wife and she wanted him. He wouldn’t deny her. Soon now, very soon, they’d leave for Ocracoke. He found he was thinking more of ridding her of a ghost than of Blackbeard’s bloody treasure. For he was sure that was what he would do if he got to the bottom of the mystery plaguing her.
He stretched out his hand and gently laid it over her belly. He began to massage her. Her belly was still flat, but her flesh was soft and he continued to caress her, splaying his fingers out to touch her pelvic bones. He sat beside her, leaned down, and kissed a patch of white flesh framed by his fingers. He moved his hands a bit lower until the heels of his hands rested on her curling red hair. He kissed her, then caressed her with his tongue. He wondered how long he could do this without dying. “You are the most beautiful female person in the world,” he said, breathing his warm breath over her flesh. Even as he was close to touching her, she found herself arching upward.
He laughed softly and took her in his mouth.
“James!”
“Hmmm,” he said, but didn’t raise his head. She tasted so sweet, so much like Jessie and that gardenia soap she used. Lust was battering him down, but he knew he had to hold on. But what if he came into her now, just this one time? No, he had to hold on, he had to do things properly. He didn’t understand how he could want her more now than he had three months ago.
Her back arched up, he felt her fingers digging into his hair, into his shoulders, and she was whispering in a low, hoarse voice, “Please, James, oh please, please . . .”
He pushed her then, teasing her with his tongue, then caressing her deeply. When he eased his middle finger into her, she screamed. That high wail made him moan.
When he felt her pleasure explode through her, he wanted to shout with the joy of it. He pushed her, reveling in her pleasure, and knowing that soon, very soon, he would be inside her and it would be she who would be giving to him, she who would be reveling in his passion. At least he prayed a woman reveled in a man’s passion. Jessie certainly always seemed to.
When finally she quieted, he lifted his head, smiled at her, and said, “Now, Jessie.”
Then he was between her legs, holding her up. He wanted to shove into her immediately, all of him, but he took his time, and with every small bit he pushed into her he felt immense pressure that was surely pain, but he didn’t want it to end, not ever. He was his full length inside her, at last. At last. He came on top of her, balancing himself on his elbows.
“Jessie, how does that feel to you?”
She opened her eyes. “It feels rather nice, James. Of course you always feel nice. As if you’re a part of me. Actually, if that’s true, then I want you to be a part of me forever.”
She lifted her hips, her legs going around his back, and he was lost. To his utter surprise, when he thrust hard into her, he felt her quiver beneath him, felt those quivers around his sex, pulling him deeper, squeezing him, and he reached between their bodies, while he still had the wit to do anything, and touched her. She cried out, a sharp cry, sounding as surprised as he felt. He kept up the pressure, giving her pleasure again, and as she peaked, he took his own release.
“Oh dear,” Jessie said, kissed his shoulder, and pulled him down flat on top of her. “Oh dear.”
He kissed her ear.
“That was embarrassing, James. I experienced pleasure two times. Surely that isn’t all that common.”
“All right, I’ll never do it again.”
She bit his nose. “It wasn’t that embarrassing.” She frowned, closed her arms over his back, and pulled him as close as she could get him. He was very heavy, she was having trouble drawing a full breath, but she didn’t care.
“Do all women reward themselves as much as I just did?”
“No.”
“Ah, so I’m special.”
He shrugged and licked her earlobe. “A man has to do things right,” he said, and nibbled her earlobe again. “Some men don’t care, others just don’t know what to do, and since women rarely know what’s good for them, nothing at all happens. Can you imagine spending the rest of your nights with me with no pleasure at all?”
“No. Can we do this every night now?” She kissed his shoulder even as she squeezed his back. “I know you’ve held back from me for the past two nights because of the nightmares, but please don’t anymore, James. If you do then I’ll insist that we leave immediately for Ocracoke, and I really don’t think anyone is quite ready just yet. Soon, though—very soon. And Blackbeard’s treasure. Just imagine. Jewels, a ton of jewels and they’ll be all ours. We’ll be so rich we’ll buy Maryland.” She giggle
d and he grinned down at her.
“I like the sound of that. More giggles every day now, all right?”
“All right. James, what will we do about our mothers?”
“Ignore them.”
“Does your mother always say awful things and then use similar sounding words to try to make them sound as though she said something different?”
“Just to certain people. When we were all at Chase Park, way back when the Duchess and Marcus were first married, she used to dish up the Duchess with every sentence she uttered. Then one day the Duchess actually did the same thing back to her. It was quite well done.” He sighed, then stiffened like a hunting dog sighting a pheasant. Jessie’s hands were stroking his back. She was caressing his buttocks. He felt himself filling her again. Her fingers went between his thighs and he thought he’d croak that instant.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
“I hope so, James, I surely do. Oh goodness, you’re gaining in proportion again.”
“A necessity, Jessie, a necessity.”
“There’s another mystery.”
James, so exhausted he didn’t know if he could even draw enough breath into his lungs, just stared down at her. He wanted to collapse, but he managed to keep himself up on his elbows. He’d nearly crushed her before, but she hadn’t complained. But now there was a light of excitement in her eyes; unfortunately it had replaced that sated, vague look that had filled her eyes just five minutes before. Women, he thought, shaking his head to keep himself awake, were extraordinarily different from men. She should be whispering love words to him, rubbing her sweating body against his, then falling asleep even as he got hard inside her.
But she was wide awake. It was as if having all that woman’s pleasure gave her new energy. He himself wanted to sleep for a week.
“What mystery?” He didn’t give a good damn. Nor could he keep himself up for another moment. He pulled out of her and collapsed next to her, drawing her against his side. “What mystery?” he said again, trying to remember a time when he’d felt this content, this pleased with the world and his place in it. And the reason he felt this way was because of Jessie Warfield. The former brat. Amazing.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot what I’d been thinking about. My thoughts drifted to thinking about how that felt, James, you sliding out of me and the way that made me all quivery inside.”
“Be quiet, Jessie. I’m on the very edge of death. What mystery?”
“You’ve heard of the lost colony on Roanoke Island, haven’t you?”
“Certainly. Sir Walter Raleigh owned the ships and was a major backer of the expedition. He shipped colonists to the Outer Banks, off the coast of North Carolina, to Roanoke Island. It was sometime late in the sixteenth century.”
“Yes, in 1587. There were more than one hundred colonists from England, including women and children. In fact, the first child born on American soil was Virginia Dare, the granddaughter of John White, the leader of the colony. When it was time for Sir Walter to leave Roanoke Island, the colonists asked that John White return to England and make certain that they weren’t forgotten and to see to replenishing their supplies. However, Spain attacked England in 1588 and thus no relief ships ever went to Roanoke Island. White wasn’t able to return until 1590. When White and his men landed, there was no one there. Not a single soul. There was no sign of them, not even a trace. There hadn’t been a massacre because there would have been bones, debris, wreckage, but there was nothing. The colonists had simply vanished. So what became of the colonists of Roanoke Island? It’s been a mystery ever since. Many men have tried to solve it and have come up with outlandish theories.”
“Is this leading somewhere, Jessie?”
“Yes. I’m a woman and I’ve solved it.”
“What?”
“Well, I really haven’t quite solved it just yet and by the time I do solve it, I won’t have had to study it as all those poor men have in the past three hundred years. I just have to finish reading Valentine’s diary—that’s her first name, I suppose, but I’m not really sure. She only ever refers to herself by that single name. Of course we have to find all the diaries first.”
“Who the devil is Valentine? Where did she get that ridiculous name?”
“She was one of the colonists. She is also Blackbeard’s great-grandmother. Yes, you heard me right. Evidently she was the one who passed on the habit of recording events in diaries. She was Blackbeard’s great-grandmother, so therefore she must have survived and thus it’s likely that all the other colonists survived as well. When we find the diaries on Ocracoke, I’ll read the rest of her diary and know what happened to the colonists. I’d forgotten about her just as I’d forgotten Blackbeard.
“Her diary won’t help us find Blackbeard’s treasure. She died long before he was ever born. But I imagine she can set to rest the mystery of Roanoke Island once and for all. Isn’t that exciting, James?”
“I don’t believe this. You’ve had too much sex, Jessie. You’re not thinking with your brain, not if you’re dredging up this ancient relative of Blackbeard’s. You just want me to caress you again and come inside you and make you scream and moan.”
“Well, perhaps you’re right about that.” The hussy closed her hand around him and he nearly leaped off the bed.
“Stop that or you’ll regret it.”
“Just how will you manage that, James?” She leaned up and kissed his chest.
“I’m so tired I can’t make you regret anything right this minute, Jessie, but there’s always tomorrow. Actually, there’s always two hours from now. I just need a bit of rest, only a small number of minutes. Blackbeard’s great-grandmother, you say? This is surely too much. She was a member of the lost colony of Roanoke? You’ve lost your grip on things, Jessie my girl. You’ve been off a horse for too long. You’ve been wearing stockings and lovely gowns for too long. Those streamers have cooked your brain.” There was no answer.
He nearly laughed aloud. Jessie was sound asleep, her fingers still curled around him.
There was no nightmare of Mr. Tom that night. James didn’t mention it the next day, and neither did Jessie. Maybe the nightmares were gone for good. Maybe. But James didn’t want to take the chance. No, he wanted to go to Ocracoke and he wanted Jessie to see where it had all happened. Then he wanted to find that bloody treasure, like everyone else in his house.
29
“WE’VE DISCUSSED THIS thoroughly and come to a decision.”
Neither Marcus nor James looked the least bit surprised at Spears’s announcement.
It was Jessie who said, “What is this decision you’ve come to?”
“Mr. Badger, would you do the telling, if you please?”
Badger handed everyone another of his delicious damson tarts while Sampson poured the port. He cleared his throat and said as he seated himself at the dining-room table, “It’s all about this Valentine woman and the lost colony of Roanoke Island. You’ve added more spice to the stew, Jessie, and we all find this lost-colony business stimulating. Perhaps the stimulation could have come a bit later, but one must continually adapt, and we have.”
“Fancy,” Maggie said as she took a delicate bite of her tart, “a young woman who lived so long ago writing to us across the centuries. And here she is that evil pirate’s great-grandmother.”
“That certainly proves the lost colonists survived,” Marcus said. “If this Valentine gave birth and her offspring survived, then others could have survived as well.”
The Duchess’s thoughts were more focused on the chair in the parlor she’d pronounced would belong to James—a huge, comfortable winged chair, as ugly as the devil in a tattered old brocade of pale brown. But her ears pricked at this talk of Ocracoke and a lost colony. “What about Valentine, Badger?”
“Jessie told us that she’d forgotten about Valentine’s diary just as she’d forgotten all about Blackbeard’s journals. This Old Tom was the one who told her his grandfather had gotten his evil hands on all
the diaries. The only reason he’d kept Valentine’s diary was because he thought it an oddity, and she was family, after all.”
“That’s right,” Jessie said. “Old Tom let me read aloud to him part of Valentine’s diary. I know a lot about how the colony lived. I’m certain that what happened to them will be toward the end of the diary. I fancy I could become very famous were I to publish her diary and present my conclusions.”
“We are considering that, Jessie,” Spears said. “It is another stimulating prospect. However, first things first. What we want to do now is journey to the Outer Banks to Ocracoke Island and dig up all the diaries. Then we’ll locate that treasure. You can progress with your scholarship, then we will assist you to present it to the world. I fancy all of us are nearly ready to board another ship. It isn’t all that long a distance, after all.”
Maggie cheered.
Sampson lightly patted her lovely hand.
Badger said, “I have four more damson tarts. Who would like them?”
“Yes, let’s go immediately,” the Duchess said, leaning forward to take one. “Well,” she added with a small frown, “perhaps not tomorrow, but soon. First Jessie and I must order all the furnishings we need for the house. When we return, everything should be about ready. Oh dear, there are the roses to be seen to. I’ve already asked Thomas to look into finding you a gardener, James. I can’t bear to see the roses so bedraggled and I fear I don’t have enough time to work on them myself.”
“Don’t worry, Duchess,” Jessie said. “Now that James and I have my dowry, we can hire three gardeners. I will make certain that when you come again to America the gardens will be what you’re used to.”
“James,” Marcus said, eyeing the last of Badger’s damson tarts, “are we even necessary? Do you get the feeling that we might as well take ourselves back to England? That the ladies can see to these matters all by themselves?”
“James is very necessary to my happiness,” Jessie said, and smiled at James, who seemed startled by her words. Then he gave her a wicked grin.