01 - Captured Dreams Page 7

  “So, what have you done with her?” He walked to his desk. “This is not the woman I had the pleasure of meeting last evening.”

  Her back farther stiffened, her chin rose, her lips thinned. She gave him a cold stare. “This happens to be the real Portia Edwards.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’m not surprised, considering the way you behaved with her,” she said casually, though she was not as indifferent as she pretended to be. A gentle blush darkened her cheeks. “That woman, however, was reprimanded for her actions and sent away indefinitely.”

  “Sent away, you say?” Amused, Pierce sat on the edge of his desk. “Pray tell, how does one do that?”

  She twisted the ribbon of a small handbag around her wrist. “Well, one begins by recognizing that one was in the wrong. One recognizes that there is danger to one’s person and reputation in engaging in certain actions or in allowing oneself to be in certain situations.”

  “Do I infer enlightenment from your words, Miss Edwards?”

  “And misunderstandings may also be dangerous,” she continued, ignoring his question. “At the same time, if no serious harm has been done, a person might resolve never to expose herself to a situation like that again.”

  “A worthy resolution, if only she could keep it.”

  “Please let me finish, Mr. Pennington,” Portia asked. “The next step, of course, is to make the appropriate apologies.”

  Pierce stretched his legs out before him, watching her intently. “So are you here to apologize for Miss Edwards’ actions last night, Miss Edwards?”

  “I am indeed, Mr. Pennington,” she said quietly, looking down at the mangled ribbons in her hand.

  Pierce crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I am sorry to say that I cannot accept your apologies.”

  Her gaze flitted to his face. “Why not, sir?”

  “I do not believe in settling matters through a third party.”

  “But there is no third party involved.”

  “Of course, there is. ‘Twas only moments ago that you spoke of sending Portia away.”

  She took a step toward him. “You are being difficult.”

  “Are you trying to impersonate the banished Miss Edwards?”

  “I am being myself.” He could see in her eyes a flash of fire.

  “You shall have to provide some proof, I’m afraid, miss.”

  It took a moment, but in spite of her efforts, a smile pulled at the corner of her lips, greatly softening her expression. “You are jesting with me, Mr. Pennington.”

  “With you? Never.” He rose to his feet and approached her. “You are too serious, too proper. I cannot imagine you finding humor in anything anyone might say…especially me.” He stopped half a step away and lifted her chin until he was looking into her dark brown eyes. She didn’t flinch, didn’t reject his touch. The images of the two of them lying on the bed at the tavern rushed back into his mind, and his body immediately responded. “On the other hand, I could definitely jest with the woman I met last night. She was smart and cunning, as well as being desirable and passionate. And she would know that after everything I have been privileged to learn about her—and what she knows of me—straight talk and an honest approach would be her only chance of getting close to me again.”

  “You told her that you never wished to see her again.”

  “Indeed, and I was counting on her to be the type of woman who never follows directions.” Pierce touched few strands of loosened hair above her ear. As they escaped their confines, the silken lock formed a soft curl, caressing his fingers.

  “You only met me last night, but seem to know all my flaws.”

  “You give me too much credit. There is no way I could know all of them.” He traced the delicate curve of her ear, and her blush burned a deeper red. Her grip on her purse tightened. “Why are you here, Portia?”

  “I came to correct the impression of me you must have from last night.”

  Pierce ran a fingertip slowly down the side of her neck. “Are you telling me that you are not regularly pursued down dark garden paths by zealous servants?”

  She shook her head. “No, that was a first.”

  “And I suppose you do not make a habit of stealing carriages from strange men?” Pierce leaned down and let his lips hover a breath away from her mouth.

  “That…that was a first time, too,” she whispered, backing away.

  Pierce took hold of her wrist. She didn’t put up a struggle. Her gaze slowly moved from the purse in her hand to his chest and lingered on his lips before looking into his eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I am discussing last night.” He took the purse out of her hand and dropped it onto the floor. “What hair ou think I’m doing?”

  “I don’t know…I never expected you would be…we would be…”

  Pierce wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her body against his. Again, she didn’t push him away, but placed both hands against his chest, creating a little barrier. The coyness added another element to her seductiveness. He was entertained, enjoying the game she played. He pulled at the pins of the ridiculous hat and was delighted when she reached up and removed it herself. More of the dark ringlets escaped and tumbled around her face. “Why don’t you tell me what else was a first time, last night.”

  “Going to that tavern was a first.”

  Pierce found her staring at his mouth again. Without asking, he kissed her moist, parted lips. Her taste was as intoxicating as he remembered. He knew what he wanted. He pushed her hands around his neck and molded her body against his.

  She tore her mouth away. “Being alone in a room with a gentleman was a first time, too.”

  He kissed her lips again, this time delving in deeper, drawing out her essence. His hands slid downward over the hollow of her back to her bottom, pressing her tight against his hardening manhood.

  She freed her mouth again. “What you and I did in that place…and in the mirror…first times.”

  “What we almost did,” he corrected.

  “No, what we did.”

  Portia had been ready to make love with him last night. They had been interrupted, but she had come back wanting the same thing this morning. Pierce backed up to his desk, bringing her with him. He felt no guilt over it. The nuisance of this being the wrong time and place was not going to stop them now.

  “I don’t know…I’ve never done this.” She pressed a hand against his chest.

  “Nor I. This has been a place for work, never play.” With one sweep of his hand, he impatiently cleared the top of the desk. A ledger book crashed to the floors. Maps and papers followed. He lifted her onto the edge of the desk.

  “I …I think we have strayed from what I was hoping—”

  With raw passion, Pierce kissed her lips. He took possession of her mouth, delving deeper, tasting, reveling in the feel of her against him. In a moment she was leaning into him, kissing him back with the same ardor. It was all the encouragement he needed. He pushed her knees apart and moved between them. His hardened body pressed against the juncture of her thighs through the layers of clothes. He took hold of her ankle and raised it until it looped around his waist.

  There was a faint knock at the door, but he ignored it. Portia, however, tore her mouth away. She was flushed, breathless.

  “Somebody is at your door.”

  “Do not be concerned. He will go away.” He slid his hand up along her calf and thigh. Her skin was warm and smooth.

  She pushed him away and scrambled off the edge of the desk. She was straightening her skirts when the door opened and Nathaniel poked in his head.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” He smiled broadly at Portia’s tumbled hair and clothing and Pierce’s murderous glare. “A Mrs. Higgins, the wife of Reverend William Higgins, is here to see you. I have detained her for as long as I could in my office, but she has now become rather worried about all the noise coming from here…especially since Sean accidentally
mentioned that her charge, Miss Edwards, was conferring with you.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “Please show her in,” Pierce said calmly.

  The man at the door winked at Portia before backing out and closing the door.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Portia blurted in sheer panic. She hurriedly picked up the books and papers off the floor and put them on the corner of the desk. She pushed a scrolled map under the table and searched the floor for her hat and purse. “You could at least have told your friend to give us a moment.”

  “Nathaniel knows what to do.”

  Portia found the hat and propped it on top of her head. There were no mirrors in the room. She picked up the purse and rushed to the open window. He was beside her as soon as she reached it and grabbed her arm.

  “You are not jumping out of this window.”

  She looked down at the two story drop and the busy street. “I would never dream of doing anything so foolish.”

  “I’m sure.” His voice oozed irony.

  Portia shot him a hard look before adjusting the window and finding her own reflection. “I shall never make this work in time.”

  Her hair had tumbled to the side, half of it lying in loose curls on her shoulder, the other half barely staying in place with pins. She placed the hat one way and another on her head. Pierce reached up, grabbed the hat and threw it out the window.

  “How could you?” she cried out. The hat caught in the light breeze, floated downward and was immediately trampled beneath the wheel of a passing cart. She glanced at the door. Voices could be heard just beyond. “She’ll know what we were doing here. I cannot…”

  As her words trailed off, Pierce took her by the arm and sat her down roughly on a chair between the two open windows. Waves of hair tumbled onto her face. He pulled the rest of the pins out of her hair and dropped them onto her lap.

  “You are making things worse.” Portia pushed his hands away and tried to smooth her hair, gathering it quickly behind her.

  “I should have learned my lesson last night. You are more trouble than you are worth, Miss Edwards.”

  “Thank you for the kind words, Mr. Pennington.”

  He moved briskly to his desk and sat behind it just as opened. Portia watched as Mary was shown in by Pennington’s friend. Pierce stood to greet the parson’s wife, but Mary’s gaze continued to flit toward her.

  Portia rose to her feet but said nothing, keeping her distance from the introductions and forced pleasantries. The man called Nathaniel stayed and joined the talk, but Mary’s extremely formal expression and tone told Portia that the older woman suspected what had been going on here.

  “My apologies, Mr. Pennington, for interrupting your business day,” Mary was saying. “I was quite unaware of Miss Edwards’s visit, and I stopped by to thank you for coming to the aid of my charge last night and delivering her safely home.”

  “Would you care to sit down, Mrs. Higgins,” Pierce offered politely.

  “That shan’t be necessary. I can see Miss Edwards is handling the situation the way she sees fit.” She directed a withering glance at Portia. “I must put an end to this visit, though, I fear. Since ‘tis such a beautiful day, the children are eager to have their lessons completed this morn…so as to spend the afternoon on an outing with their father.”

  Portia was well versed in reading Mary’s words. She knew the purpose of concluding this visit was not for the sake of the children’s lessons but to give herself time to deliver a lecture…no doubt on purity, chastity, propriety, and the crushing effects of sin on one’s soul. Before Portia could move however, Pierce’s friend interrupted.

  “Excuse my brashness, Pennington, but I do not believe I have been introduced to the young lady.”

  Scowling fiercely, Pierce made the introduction, and Nathaniel Muir beamed with delight, bombarding her with a number of general questions. As Portia replied, Mary stood stiffly and silently in the center of the room.

  “We are running quite late,” Mary finally cut in with a meaningful look.

  Portia had a last minute thought. “My apologies for overhearing your conversation with Admiral Middleton’s men,” she said, addressing Muir. “But I managed to leave behind my wrap and mask at the ball last evening, and since I heard you saying that you were going there today, I was wondering if it might not be too much trouble if I accompanied you there to recover my belongings.”

  She saw Pierce open his mouth, no doubt to assert that it would be too much trouble, so she continued on.

  “I have heard how cautious the Admiral’s gatekeepers are to allow in visitors. If you could take me there, I promise to be quick and wait quietly in your carriage until your business there is concluded. Of course, I could even walk there and await your arrival. Then I could leave as soon as I gather—”

  Muir put an end to her rambling. “I have a much better idea, if it does not interfere greatly with your duties with the children. My friend and I need to be going our separate ways after meeting with the Admiral, so I shall be happy to make use of my friend’s chaise to convey you to Copp’s Hill. After you have retrieved your things, the driver shall deliver you safely home.”

  “That is very kind of you,” Portia whispered, relieved as Mary nodded sourly.

  Muir asked for the address of the parsonage and promised to call for Portia at the house in two hour’s time. Pennington remained silent, and she was relieved that neither he nor Mary object="29"e arrangements.

  Moments later, Portia was following her friend down the steps. Mary waited until they were on the street before starting.

  “How foolish of me to think at the mature age of twenty-four, you would be past such…such indecency.” Mary charged across Dock Square as Portia kept pace. “I cannot believe that I still need to explain the difference between right and wrong, modest and licentious. What do you think a man like him thinks of a woman who would throw herself—”

  “I resent your tone, Mary Higgins,” Portia replied shortly. “You are speaking as if I have committed the most hideous of crimes.”

  “You have, have you not? Did you not go to his place of business without a chaperon?”

  “You told me yourself the importance of leaving a good impression. I never had an opportunity to thank the gentleman for what he did last evening. And just as I needed no chaperon to be escorted by Captain Turner to the ball, neither do I need one today to visit Mr. Pennington.”

  Mary stopped and stared at her in disbelief. “Do you really see no difference in the two situations? Captain Turner’s interest and intentions toward you are highly honorable and clear to everyone. He has implied as much to the parson himself. Mr. Pennington, on the other hand, has never been properly introduced to you.”

  “Captain Turner intended to introduce him to me.”

  Ignoring Portia’s words, Mary took her arm and hurried her along. “And I have learned some other things about him this morning. Mr. Pennington’s wealth and family connections make him one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. These private meetings with someone of your age and lack of means could only be construed to be for the purpose of immoral relations.”

  Portia stopped dead, frowning into the older woman’s face. “Listen to yourself, my friend. Last night, you told me he is my only salvation. Today, you are acting as if—”

  “I was suggesting last evening that you seek the man’s aid. My suggestion was to inform him of the tragedy of being fatherless, to appeal to his sense of nationalism and his kindness. I never told you to discard your virtue and act so…so unspeakably.” Mary shook her head and started off again.

  Portia ignored the curious looks of those passing by and ran after the other woman. “Mary, I have harmed no one. There has been no scandal. Will you please calm down and allow me to at least explain myself?”

  The parson’s wife whirled on her, asking directly, “Very well, tell me what exactly happened between you two in Mr. Pennington’s office?”

  Portia decided on
the truth. “He kissed me.”

  “He…he…” Five shades of red crept up into Mary’s neck and face. Murder would have caused less consternation in her. “You—”

  “Say what you will, but Pierce Pennington is the first man who has ever kissed me…and no one was harmed by it,” Portia asserted quickly. “I know that it was wrong. ‘Twas inappropriate to go there and inappropriate to allow him to kiss me. Mr. Pennington knows it, too. He has said as much, himself. But that is behind us. ‘Twas a kiss, unintended and impulsive. But the world does not have to stop because of it. No one else knows, other than you, Mary. There shall be no scandal.”

  “The Lord knows,” Mary hissed. “And before this day is done, I will make certain the parson knows, as well.”

  “Do as you see fit.”

  “That I shall. There is nothing innocent about what you have done. You have been living with us for eight years. You know very well how we lead our lives. You know the example we try to set for the people in our congregation and for others who look upon us. We do not stray from the righteous path. No errors—unintended or impulsive though they might be—can be tolerated in our own conduct. Behavior like this will destroy in a moment what my husband has been trying to establish here for all these months. You are doing the same as my sister Ellie. She brought scandal on the family and destroyed William’s chances in England. You will ruin him here.”

  “I am not Ellie,” Portia stated, upset that her blunder served as a reminder of a very difficult time in Mary’s life. After working seven years as a curate in Bristol, any hope of advancement for Higgins had been shattered when Mary’s youngest sister was named as a correspondent in the divorce proceedings of a young nobleman. The scandal was trumpeted in every newspaper from Bristol to Edinburgh. And that had been only one of that young woman’s missteps. “I would never do anything to hurt you or William or the children.”

  “Very true, ” Mary snapped, “because I will not allow you to. From this moment on, I forbid you to have anything to do with Mr. Pennington, his friend…and Helena Middleton. You will put an end to this foolishness right now.”