Page 33 of The Scandal of the Deceived Duchess
Seeing him again after the way they had parted brought along mixed emotions. She was apprehensive as to what he might say to her. Would he be distant and cold? Was he here because he had some important news concerning their voyage and needed to tell them before something untoward happened? Or was it as Amelia hoped? Jonathan Mitchell had ridden all of this way to tell her that he loved her.
“Dearest Anna, it is grand to see you again,” said Jonathan, stepping away from Jake to take the young lady, who had reached him first, into his strong embrace.
Amelia felt a pang of jealousy boil in her veins. It was where she most wanted to be – in his arms, inhaling his sweet scent that she remembered so acutely from their kiss. Twiddling with her fingers, she waited for Jonathan to release Anna. She felt as if he had deliberately greeted her friend first to slight her.
“Amelia…I have come,” said Jonathan, stepping away from Anna. He shook his head ruefully. What he had said had sounded quite lame. He could do better than that. Seeing his sweet Amelia again had robbed him of his wits in just the way she always did. The forceful captain of a frigate felt naked in the face of her feminine charms.
“Amelia, the way we parted was not how I wanted it to be. I have come to apologize if I have caused you any offence. It never was my intention to drive you away. I felt drawn to you that night on the way back from Richmond…”
“And now?” Amelia bit her lower lip. She no longer felt the cold. It was as if an inner heat had claimed her like a hot volcanic pool. The wait for his answer felt as if a thousand winters had gradually turned into springtime, again and again until nothing was left to do.
Jonathan smiled crookedly. “Nothing has changed, Dearest. I still feel the same. These past days have shown me that. No matter how far away from me you were, the burning desire to be with you never subsided.”
Amelia smiled when she heard him call her dearest again. It reminded her of that night at the hotel when she was but his imaginary fiancé for one evening. “I know…I have suffered for my mistreatment of you, dear Jonathan. I sought out forgiveness, but it eluded me. I…”
He stepped forward, narrowing the space that separated them – two paces remained, and they would be in each other’s arms. “There is nothing to forgive. I came at you without warning. How else were you supposed to react?”
“Like this,” said Amelia. She no longer cared about the repercussions. She did not care that Anna and Jake and all of the slaves stood nearby.
Before Jonathan realized what was afoot, he felt the simmering warmth of her lips pressed against his. She was cautious, careful even, but her desire was apparent in the way she attempted to lure him in.
Soon, her timidity, if it could be called that, disintegrated into hunger, as she, like him in the carriage, parted his lips with hers. Amelia was once more how he remembered her: forceful, full of will and desires, and the mistress of her destiny.
Jonathan reciprocated by wrapping his arms around her and dipping her body lower a notch. He needed to claim this woman, this witch turned fairy and make her his. At that moment, they were all and everything. The sound of the crunching feet of the people around them as they dispersed to give them some privacy was but a mere happening, a trifle that bore no more meaning other than that it took place.
The warmth of their mouths, the feel of their arms and bodies encircling and touching and the power of their union at last confirmed was all that mattered to both of them. The abject pain to which they had subjected themselves because of him not fully claiming her and because of her venting stubbornness and misplaced ladylike grace expelled from their bodies like steam from a searing rock.
All there was, was two people in love – not ashamed, no longer the prisoners of different lands and patriotic beliefs, no more doubt and above all the heavy chains of mislaid pride; all of it was gone. Those things were no longer important for a kiss shared in truth and for all to see, is the beginning of that which man and woman so cherish – being in love and loving that special person no matter what.
“You will stay with me as my wife,” breathed Jonathan into her mouth as he slowly and reluctantly broke away from the contact. He slid his arms from around her body to take her hands in his.
“Was that a proposal, Jonathan Mitchell?” Amelia’s eyes twinkled in the spirit of a woman who had heard exactly what she wanted to hear.
“That it was, dearest.” Jonathan lowered his heavy frame until he came to a rest on one knee. “Amelia Carlyle, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife. You are my woman and I your man…I knew that from the first day I saw you on board the HMSCapricorn.”
“Now, that cannot be true. If I remember correctly I was absolutely obnoxious to you.”
“That was what I loved about you. Does that not bode well if I can love you when you treat me so?”
Amelia laughed. “I will endeavor not to do so again.”
“Can I take that as a yes to my proposal?”
“Oh, my Jonathan. Of course, it is a yes. I can imagine nothing more wonderful than to be Mrs. Jonathan Mitchell or maybe even Mrs. Jonathan Mackinnon of Mitchell.”
Jonathan chuckled. “Trust you to bring that up. But let’s stick with Mitchell. Such long names offer too much room for confusion.”
“I can live with that,” said Amelia, her cheeks gushing redness as her body vented its pleasure at what was transpiring. “Oh, my Jonathan.”
He smiled as he removed her glove and slid a ring onto her finger. The golden band with a bed of white diamonds sparkled back at her. “It was my mother’s before she passed it to Mammy for safekeeping,” he said with a trace of sadness in his voice. “She would have wanted my bride to have it in the same way my grandfather wanted his bride to have it. It is the ring of a lady of Scotland.”
“Jonathan, this means so much…I am so honored to wear it. I don’t know what to say.” Tears seeped down Amelia’s cheeks, and for once, unlike the days past, they were sourced from an infinite spring of joy. All traces of her onetime melancholy had vanished into thin air. Her man was there, and he wanted her to marry him – it was the best day in Amelia’s life.
“I could imagine no finer woman to wear it,” said Jonathan, standing up to his full height.
He bent lower to kiss his fiancé once more. This time, their kiss did not last as long. However, what it lacked in duration, it made up for in sheer emotion and meaning – it was their first kiss as man and wife to be.
“This does feel so much better than having to playact being betrothed,” said Jonathan, breaking away.
