Page 23 of Unfettered

The dowager took pity on him. She wasn’t sure it was his heart, as he seemed to declare, that was involved, but she did not wish to hurt his pride so openly. “Well, she was certainly determined to enjoy the expedition, but not, I think, just for the pleasure of his company.”

“For what then?” He was puzzled.

“She did not take me into her confidence, for she was ever one to keep her own counsel, but I know my little puss, and I have surmised from some of her remarks in the past that Don Rodrigo challenges her. She seems to have a point to prove to him, ‘tis nothing more. Something to do perhaps with her riding skills. She does not like riding sidesaddle. A country ride would allow her some freedom.”

“Perhaps...but then, I believe you underestimate his power over women. I am told he is quite the charmer, and from what I was able to observe the other night, his sights seem to be set on sweet Lady Jessica.”

The dowager frowned. It was what she herself feared. However, she truly believed he would not try and seduce a green girl. He was not the sort. Did he have marriage in mind? She hoped not. She did not wish to lose Jessie to Argentina...so far away.

“I think you are wrong on that score. I have been informed by Jessica’s uncle that Rodrigo has never even tried to seduce an untried maid...and especially one of Jessie’s standing.”

“That may have been so in the past, but I believe he is unwisely attracted to Lady Jessica. I can only hope the principles that guided his behavior in the past will continue to do so now.”

The dowager was now quite put out with Sir Warren. Why must he come here and annoy her with such suppositions? She dashed well meant to put a stop to it. “Well, sir, I do think...it really is something only her uncle and I should deal with.”

“As to that, I mean to ride out and intercept them...” he answered with some determination.

She bristled. “Sir, I must caution you against such behavior. For one, I do not approve of your intentions in this regard. It is to say you find fault with Jessie’s uncle and me. Secondly, you will set up my Jessie’s bristles.”

“I mean to make it appear that I was in the neighborhood of Greenwich...on my way home from visiting friends. I shall only stop by the inn for some refreshment and to rest my horse,” he answered. “There can be no objection to that?”

“No...?” The dowager wished she could stop him from doing this, but she could see he had made up his mind.

He left her then, and she watched him depart. His behavior would certainly put Jessie on high alert. She was a smart little puss and might think even the dowager had put Sir Warren up to it. No, that wouldn’t do. She adored her Jessie and did not wish her to think ill of her, plus, she didn’t want to make Rodrigo the ‘forbidden fruit’, for that would never do!

~ Nine ~

THE PATH THAT LED THROUGH the neatly landscaped gardens of the elegant Greenwich Inn was a narrow, winding, and secluded one. It was flanked by full, tall evergreens, and its circular route touched a swiftly flowing, shallow, rocky stream. Wildflowers bloomed in riotous color, and as Don Rodrigo led Jessie along the path, she exclaimed happily about the fresh spring scent in the air.

She was, could not help but be, conscious of him, and knew she shouldn’t be alone with him in the gardens. He had dismissed the groom, telling him to go and enjoy a meal. Was she in a compromising position? No, not really, yet why hadn’t the Bolivars arrived?

A message had awaited them upon their arrival, saying only that the young couple had been slightly delayed. Jessie was no fool and wondered if that had been contrived. No, Señora Bolivar would not have agreed to such a thing, she was sure.

Rodrigo touched her elbow as he guided her over the flat stone path, and she could not deny the thrill his touch engendered in her. She knew what she was feeling, was experienced enough to know that what she had been determined to avoid was, in fact...too late. She felt much more for the dashing rogue than she had ever thought possible. What could she do?

Rodrigo was quiet. His own mind was a tumble of conflicting thoughts, and his body was being assaulted by an explosive desire. He could never have her without calling her wife. The word ‘wife’ had always irritated him, and it was no different now. Marriage was not for him.

He found it was more than principles that demanded he not take her too far. He liked her, no—even adored her. She was lovely in every way. One day, someone would be lucky enough to marry her. Oddly enough, the thought of another man one day possessing her, calling her wife, rankled.

Jessie eyed the handsome man walking beside her. They had left their hats and gloves in the inn, and she was smitten by his profile, his black silky waves of hair. When he turned and their eyes met, she quietly gasped and hurriedly looked away.

“Can you smell the wildflowers?” he remarked.

“Yes, yes. This inn has a beautiful garden,” she answered almost breathlessly. “Do you think we should get back to the dining room? Perhaps your friends have arrived by now.”

“Not just yet. This is...” His eyes locked, once again, with hers. “So very pleasant.”

Damn, why couldn’t he breathe? Why did he feel he would choke if he tried to speak? What was wrong with him? She was exquisite, and he had the sudden urge to run his hands through her beautiful red hair, which hung about her shoulders and back, hampered only by a loose ribbon. Her piquant exquisite face, her cherry lips...pursed and ready, nay, teasing for a kiss!

“Sweet Jessie, my own spitfire, do you realize what your eyes do to a man of my stamp?” His voice was low and husky as he took her shoulders and turned her to him.

She tried banter. “Now, how should I know that when I have never known a man of your stamp before?” She spotted a squirrel holding a piece of food in its paws and cried out, “Oh, look...how adorable.”

“Yes, you are, and forgive me.” He drew her into his embrace. He couldn’t stop himself. This was not what he meant to do. Hell, what was the matter with him? He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t because his self-control was shot to pieces. He had to taste her again, and before either of them knew what was happening, his lips closed on hers. Having her in his arms made him feel complete. Her lips beneath his own made him experience an emotion no other woman had drawn from him. It scared him to death. He was rarely frightened of anything or anyone, but Jessie scared him to death.

He pulled away, furious with himself. “Jessie...forgive me.”

She could have put a stop to it right then, but Jessie didn’t want to. His kisses were always like nothing she had ever known. She wanted more of them. She pressed into him and went on her tiptoes to touch her lips to his.

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