Rocky Mountain Dawn (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 1) Page 3
Nodding, she felt like crying all over again.
In the adjacent luggage room, she picked out her new nightgown, a gift from her mother "for her wedding night." She'd never really thought of what her first night with her husband would entail, and now trepidation filled her.
Mr. Shepherd was already in bed when she returned, reading with the light on. Facing the corner, she drew off her layers slowly, and let the nightgown fall over her head, grateful it came down to her ankles.
It wasn't until she stepped into the pool of light by the bed that she realized the fine gossamer fabric was almost see through.
"Oh no," she said, blushing. She glanced up, hoping her husband wasn't looking, only to meet his heated stare. This was not a good way to prove she wasn't a flirtatious woman. She looked like a seductress.
But her new husband said nothing to chastise her, only moved to one side of the bed and held up the covers for her to climb under. She did so, gratefully, drawing them up to her chin.
Shutting her eyes, she tried to sleep, but her long nap and the strangeness of the room had energy coursing through her.
Beside her, she could hear Mr. Shepherd turning the pages of the newspaper. Shifting to her side, she faced away from him, but still felt his heat at her back. She scooted away from him, settling on the edge of the bed. After a few minutes, she flopped onto her back again.
Mr. Shepherd leaned over and turned off the lamp. Sighing to herself, Esther rolled away from him again—and, slipping off the bed, crashed right to the floor.
A few second later, her husband relit the lamp.
"Esther," he was at her side, "are you all right?"
"Yes." She grabbed at the blankets, pulling them around her for modesty's sake.
"Esther." Her husband caught her hands. "I'm a doctor, and we are now married. You do not need to hide from me."
"I do not mean to tempt you," she said, flushing. "I know our marriage is in name only, for the purpose of doing God's work."
Her words rocked him back onto his heels. "You think that?"
"Isn't that what you wanted our arrangement to be?"
"I want a partner, yes, and a helpmate. But, Esther, you are my wife. We are to be joined in every way."
Now her cheeks were really burning, not only from his words, but his nearness. Still holding her hands, he drew her up. His gaze swept down her front, and her knees suddenly grew weak.
"Besides," he continued in a hoarse voice. "You are a lovely woman. Only a blind man would be able to ignore your charms."
He picked her up and set her on the bed, his fingers smoothing down her arms, caressing her through the silky fabric. Her head tipped back of her own volition, and her breasts felt suddenly heavy and full. She leaned forward, aching to be touched.
Her husband's body moved between her legs, and she felt something press against her, only to realize he was only wearing his drawers. With a startled cry, she shot back across the bed.
"Mr. Shepherd, please," she gasped. "This is unseemly." Her new husband's head bent, and she watched his shoulders shake a little before she understood what his response was. "Are you laughing at me?"
His chuckle filled the room, and he shook his head before climbing back in bed. Again Esther scooted to the far side of the bed.
"My dear wife." Mr. Shepherd dried his eyes. "Has no one told you what goes on between a man and a woman on their wedding night?"
Esther opened her mouth, then closed it. Her mother had once sat her and Mattie down to explain this, but both she and her sister had come away more confused than ever before. Other than that, she could only guess.
"It's all right," her tall husband said. "I shall enjoy teaching you."
He put his hand on her knee, and she stiffened, but he only patted it.
"Not tonight. We can wait until we know one another better."
He blew out the lamp again, and she felt him lie down.
Careful not to get too close to the edge of the bed, she curled into a ball, wondering at the tumult of feelings inside her, the greatest of which was disappointment.
*****
In the morning she rose before dawn, but Mr. Shepherd had already risen. He left a note for her, saying he was downstairs leading a prayer service for the inn's residents.
Sneaking into the luggage room, she pulled out the contents of her packed trunk, and began to choose what she would wear into her new life. In the end, she had four gowns, only one fine enough to wear on the streets of Boston. The rest of her clothes she repacked to send back to her sister, Mattie.
Feeling sorry for herself, she found the servant's staircase and slipped into the yard behind the inn. Behind her she could hear the guests breakfasting, but she had no desire to join them, or see anyone. Finding a tree, she climbed up a sturdy limb and leaned against the trunk.
She must have dozed off, for she woke to someone calling her name.
"I'm here," she said, sitting up and nearly falling off the branch. She scrambled to hang onto the trunk.
"Esther." Her husband was at the foot of the tree, peering up through leaves with a worried face. "Come down at once."
Sliding off the branch, she winced when her feet hit the ground. Mr. Shepherd's hands gripped her arms immediately.
"Where have you been? We've all been looking for you."
As if to punctuate his words, the innkeeper stuck his head out of the back door. "Is that her, Dr. Shepherd?"
"It is," he called back. "Thank you."
"Very good, sir," the innkeeper chuckled. "Nothing like marrying a bride only to lose her. Young lady," the man waggled a finger at her, "you gave us all a scare."
"I'm sorry," she said, ducking her head as her husband pulled her along past the landlord and up the back staircase.
Once they were back in the room, she stood wringing her hands as her husband paced, long legs taking him from one end of the room to the other.
"What were you thinking, leaving without telling me?"
"I woke and you were gone—"
"I left a note, and was downstairs the whole time. You disappeared. We have all been searching since breakfast."
Esther felt her cheeks redden at the thought of the whole inn turned upside down on her behalf. "I didn't mean to alarm anyone. I just wanted some fresh air."
"You didn't think to tell me? I came upstairs to find your trunk torn apart and you gone. I thought—" Johnathan paced back in forth, his long legs challenged to stretch in the small space. His hands tore through his hair. "I don't know what I thought... that there had been a robbery or someone had snatched you somehow."
Sinking down into the chaise, Esther put her head into her hands. She'd never seen her groom so worked up.
"I'm sorry, all right?" she snapped. "I said that already."
Johnathan stopped pacing and stood in front of her. "Esther, you must understand what a scare it was." Reaching down, he took her hand and she felt her pulse jump at his touch. "We are starting a long journey together, and I need to know you're safe."
Unsettled, she pulled her hands away. "Of course I was safe—I was a few yards away from the inn." She sniffed. "I think you are making too much of this, husband."
The next thing she knew, he'd pulled her to her feet and sat down in her place on the couch.
"Lift your skirts and lie over my lap."
"What?"
"Now, Esther. If you argue with me, your discipline will be longer."
She stared at him. He didn't look angry, just determined. She'd seen that look on her father's face before she'd received punishment as a child.
"Esther," Johnathan said in a warning tone.
Energy rushed through her, telling her to run, but she knew she would not get far. Slowly she lifted her skirts and laid down. He put his hand on her back to steady her as she settled over his long legs, and then pulled up her skirts even higher.
Hanging over his lap, she felt angry tears prickle in her eyes and her cheeks burned with shame. She was grateful that her ha
ir hung over her face so he couldn't see it.
Then his hand cracked down and she jumped. It continued in a steady beat, slapping one cheek and then another, punishing her through her drawers. At first, she felt grateful for the thin cloth protecting her skin. Then a minute passed and she gritted her teeth against the smarting sensation.
Throughout the spanking her husband lectured her. "You will not leave without letting someone know where you are. We're about to embark on a long, dangerous journey, and your safety is my utmost concern. No more slinking off. And no more climbing trees." With a final smack, he set her on her feet.
Her hands immediately went to her bottom, but Johnathan tutted and pulled them away.
"The sting will remind you of the pain you caused others. Now go and sit at the desk. You'll spend the day in the room, writing notes of apology to every guest in the inn. You can deliver them at dinner."
"But what about our travels? We're staying another night?"
"We were to ride out straight after breakfast, but it's too late now. We won't arrive in time for our train."
Esther's shoulders sagged. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to cause so much trouble."
"My dear, look at me."
She did, and felt surprise. Under the thick brows, his brown eyes were kind. "You are forgiven. The slate is wiped clean. I know you will do better next time. Now go sit down."
With a resigned sigh, she sat on the hard seat. Her bottom throbbed so hot she felt it would burn. Johnathan left and returned with pen and paper and a list of all the guests. It seemed that, after only one meal with them, he knew all their names, as well as the innkeeper and servants.
"I'll leave you to it, wife."
His warm hand squeezed her shoulder, emboldening her to catch his fingers.
"Mr. Shepherd, will you always discipline me so?"
"Only when you need it. As your husband, it's my responsibility to guide and correct you." He leaned down and kissed her head.
She flushed again, and kept her eyes down until he left. As she bent her head to her letters, she couldn't stop her thoughts racing.
What were these feelings coursing inside her? She was used to correction; her parents had spanked her often when she was a rambunctious child, to set her straight and give her younger siblings an example. But balancing across Mr. Shepherd's knees, she'd never felt so...alive. Aware. It was a very strange feeling.
Even as she thought about it, heat crept over, an ache very different from the pain of her blistered behind. It rose through her whole body and set her nipples tingling. Unbidden, the image of Mr. Shepherd rose in her mind's eye, smiling down at her from his great height. In her daydream, she felt his hands on her skin, steadying her, and heard his soft, but firm voice.
It seemed only a short while before her husband returned, looking pleased at the pile of notes she had finished.
"I'm going to send the trunk back now. Do you have the things you need?"
"Yes, um, yes." She felt flustered, faced with the object of her fantasy.
Johnathan didn't seem to notice. He leaned over her, inspecting the notes. "Finished already? Good girl."
She felt a rush of giddiness at his words.
He picked up the letters. "Some of the guests are leaving now. I will deliver these for you."
"Thank you, sir," she said, grateful she wouldn't have to face them.
"Esther," her husband chuckled and caught her chin. "I love how you submit to me, and call me sir in respect during your punishments. Once they're over, however, you may as well get used to calling me by my given name." His smile warmed her all over and his touch had her tingling all over again. "We are to be married and cleave as one."
"Yes...Johnathan."
He bent and kissed her nose.
*****
He left to deliver her apologies, and she went to the mirror, lifting her skirts to see her bottom. Sure enough, it was pink, but not so sore and blistered as she'd imagined it to be.
The door opened and she scuttled away from the mirror, jerking down her petticoats. Johnathan approached, an interested light in his brown eyes.
"Let me see."
Reluctantly, Esther turned around and rested her hands on the chaise. A whisper of petticoats, and the air caressed her bare cheeks. Her husband took his time with his inspection. On display, her body burned with embarrassment and another excited feeling. She shivered as she felt a hand pass near her sore bottom, though he didn't touch her.
"The redness may last awhile, but it will fade. I promise, you'll be good as new." He let her skirts fall and brushed them down. "At least, until you misbehave again."
She sighed, large and loud, and her husband shook his finger at her. "No pouting now."
Faced with his waggling finger, Esther found her cheeks flushing anew.
"Johnathan?" She hesitated, but he waited until she spoke again. "Do you think I can be a good wife to you?"
"Dear Esther, ever since I read your letter, I had to meet you. And when you came down the stairs and looked straight at me, I knew."
As he spoke, his arms went around her and drew her closer.
Her heart fluttered and she leaned forward, her body a hairsbreadth from his.
"You were the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."
She glanced away. "I thought you didn't like that."
"I didn't like that you treated me like just another suitor and played coy. But, Esther, you're brave and strong and true. You just need a strong hand to guide you, and I intend to provide it."
He bent his head, she thought to kiss her cheek, but at the last second his lips touched hers. The kiss started sweet and chaste, and then his grip shifted on her back, pulling her closer.
Fire poured through her whole body, and she surged up on her tiptoes, pressing her body against his. Her lips tugged at his, asking for more, and he gave it all and more, leaving her dazed and breathless.
He grinned down at her, his brown eyes so tender. She clung to him, almost whimpering when he set her gently away.
"Oh, Esther," he sighed. "We must go down for dinner."
Empty since yesterday, her stomach growled, but the rest of her felt hungry for something else.
"Come, wife." He offered his arm. "Time to eat."
At dinner she sat very carefully and stayed quiet, filling her stomach and watching her husband converse. He led the conversation, easily the most intelligent gentleman in the room, whose manners and turn of phrase charmed everyone. After dinner, the innkeeper seated them both in the front parlor, and Johnathan continued to hold court as a coveted conversationalist. Stealing small glances at him, she studied his face, his gestures. Everything about him was perfect. Even his face, thin and rawboned, with the surly eyebrows and thick brown shock of hair, seemed beautiful to her, and she wondered how she'd ever thought him homely.
At one point, he leaned forward to answer a question, and his hand crept onto her knee and closed over it. Again Esther felt desire burst in her, leaving her almost dizzy. Sitting back, she let out a sigh of longing, too quiet for anyone but him to hear.
The hand squeezed her knee again, and Johnathan straightened. "And now we must retire. My wife is tired, and we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."
"Yes, let the newlyweds go to bed," the innkeeper chuckled. The guests smiled to themselves, and Esther flushed as she preceded her husband to their room.
Once there, she repeated her dance from last night, turning away from him and changing in the corner. Unfortunately, the only nightgown she had left was the see-through chemise. Besides her hairbrush, it was the only thing her mother had given her, and she couldn't bring herself to send the gift back.
Her husband didn't bother to look away when she returned and climbed hurriedly into bed.
She could feel his eyes sweeping over her, but didn't dare meet his eye. Again she wondered at the strange current of excitement flowing through her. Where had it come from? He was a reverend, she was his wife, and should not feel s
uch things.
Lying on her back, with the covers up to her chin, she let out a deep and sorrowing sigh.
Beside her, Johnathan rolled to face her. He didn't have a paper, but hadn't bothered to blow out the lamp.
"Esther." He rested his hand on her, and she felt it as if it burned through the coverlet. "What do you know of when a man lies with a woman?"
"I know that..." She stopped and wracked her brain. "Christie Mathers said that her wedding night was the best night she'd ever had. But then Jenny Whitely heard Christie speak of it, and went out and lay with an apprentice in her father's shop, and nine months later gave birth to a boy with his father's blond hair and her brown eyes. The apprentice was forced to marry her."
During her speech, Johnathan's head had dropped, and his hand came up to cover his face. After a minute, he raised his head, shoulders still jerking with laughter. "Very well, wife." He drew back the covers. "I will have to teach you."
"What are you doing?" Too late she grasped at the coverlet, but her husband had twitched it away, and leaned over her.
"Just relax." His brown eyes held her as his fingers started unbuttoning her nightgown. "Do you trust me, dear heart?"
Biting her lip, she nodded.
"Then let go. I'm going to touch you now. I promise it will feel good."
He undid the buttons down almost to her waist, and parted the fabric to reveal her skin.
"You are so beautiful," he said hoarsely, and bent to kiss her. For a moment, he did nothing but explore her mouth, then sat back and study her, cupping her face.
Finally, his fingers stroked down the side of her neck. Her breath quickened as he laid his hand on her chest, near her neck, and slowly drew it down. She arched under his touch, pushing her aching breasts into his hand.
Both his hands came to cradle her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until she thought she would go mad.
"Is this how it is between a man and a woman?" She gasped. Her whole body coiled tighter and tighter, spiraling up to find the release.
In answer, he bent his head and kissed her neck, lips and fingers continuing to torture her.
"Johnathan," she gasped.