Animal Lust. Lacy DanesЧитать онлайн книгу.
Did the townsfolk know of her fall from grace? She glanced at a few of the locals and smiled, but they stared at her in question of her conveyance.
Nerves shook her hands. Why did being here feel so wrong? She’d wanted the comfort of this place, of her family, but at the moment she wanted to scramble back into the Ursus carriage. She shook her head.
You ninny, you belong here, not there. You feel that way only because of your folly. Go put your parents at ease.
She straightened her shoulders and pushed open the door to her father’s shop. The familiar smell of starch and crisp linen wafted to her nose, and she smiled.
“Be right with you!” her pa yelled from the back of the store. How odd. She had been gone only two nights, but she didn’t know what to do. Should she go into the back? Should she wait here?
The front room of the shop, the largest in their home, felt incredibly small. The steam-thick air, from washing and dying, smothered her. She didn’t belong here…. Yes, she did. She shook her head. She couldn’t wait to see her parents and wipe the worry from their minds. She strode forward, her hands fisted, spine straight, determination pulsing through her. She paused. If they knew of her folly, would they tell her?
Her heart pounded in her throat; she walked behind the counter and pushed open the curtains that led to the back. Her mother stood behind a worktable, cutting cloth, and screeched as Jane caught her gaze.
“Jane! Jane!” She hustled over to her and wrapped her in a huge embrace. “Oh, dear girl, where have you been?”
“Mother.” She squeezed her mother’s fleshy shoulders tight, tears blurring her eyes. “I got caught out in the rain. And…” What should she tell them? She very well could not say she’d rutted with Jonathan and run off because he’d treated her ill. Or that she took shelter in a house filled with nothing but men.
Her mother pulled back and studied her face, a crease between her brows. “Are you well?”
“Quite.” Her lips turned up into a smile.
“Thomas, Thomas, Jane is home. Jane is home!” her mother squealed.
Her father came from the kitchen, his hands blue with dye. “Ah! Jane, you scared us so.” His gaze ran down her length. “But you look well enough. You surely found a place to stay out of the weather. Did you press on to old Mrs. Smithies’?”
“Ah, no…I got lost, but I did find shelter. I’m quite well.”
“I just put on a pot of tea, and you can help your mother with some mending.” He waved them back toward the kitchen.
Her shoulders relaxed, and she and her mother strolled through the door to the family side of the building. It was good to be home. Not once had they pressed her for any explanation. How odd! She’d never hid anything from them in the past. Maybe she should tell them.
No! They would be so ashamed of her, and at the moment she wanted to feel only comfort. Her heart constricted. They trusted her, and she’d done the unforgivable. What would they do if she carried a child? She could not keep from them what had happened. If the gossip leaked out to the township, her father’s business would suffer. But how would she explain?
She sat down to enjoy the comforts she craved, family and home. Tonight she would tell her mother what happened. And tomorrow, everything would change.
The hair on Jane’s neck lifted as Jonathan prowled into her parents’ parlor. What was he doing here?
“Miss Milton, so glad you’re well. Gave us all a scare, lovely.”
Sweet mother! How was she going to get through this? She couldn’t look at him. Heat flushed her face.
He is only here to see your father, you foolish girl. Your father is his friend.
She nodded her head and went back to her mending, not seeing a stitch.
He strode to the chair beside her and sat down with an ungraceful thunk. The needle pricked her finger. Ouch! She grimaced; she refused to let him see her nerves and forced herself to smile.
His dark blond hair was slicked back from his face, and he wore the same white shirt he always wore. She tensed, waiting for the flutter in her heart or the pain she’d felt running through the woods. Neither came. Only her cheeks burned of shame.
He was pale. Had he been ill of late? His blue eyes caught hers, and her stomach clenched. Oh! How odd! She had never experienced that reaction to him before. Her hand shot to her stomach and pressed against the unease.
“Mary, bring us some of those fine rolls you made and a pint,” her father said to her mother. “I think we need to celebrate my baby coming home.”
Her mother scurried to her feet and disappeared into the kitchen. Jane slid the needle back through the tablecloth she mended and held in a burp.
Jonathan leaned toward her. “Gave me a fright, you did, lovely. I’ll be havin’ no more of that.” His eyes were hard as his gaze traveled to her breasts.
Thank goodness he wouldn’t touch them again! She hoped he wouldn’t try to lead her to indiscretion again, but she had given him her virginity, and wasn’t that a good signal she would always be willing?
Now that she had Martin, she couldn’t imagine allowing Jonathan to touch her again.
Did she have Martin? She had left his home. He could consider her gone, never to return. But she didn’t think so.
She, oddly, could feel him. She sensed that he grew near and that he was determined to have her. The possessiveness probably came from his mark. A smile curved her lips as a warm contentedness filled her.
She would one day go back to the Ursuses, if only to stare at the house from afar and wonder. The raspberry marks on her skin pricked, and her heart constricted. She wanted to return to Tremarctos not one day but now.
Oh! What a bloody mess this was! She couldn’t do that, and why did she want to so badly? They were not of her kind, and more than a little part of her feared Tremarctos. Her stomach gurgled, and she hiccupped.
Her mother reappeared with a tray in hand, her savory herb rolls and two pints of beer perched on top. The smell of rosemary and thyme eased her stomach’s grumble.
Mary placed the tray on the sideboard and brought one pint to Jonathan and the other to her father.
“’Tis a good thing Jane made it home safe.” Jonathan raised his mug to her father and smiled.
Had his cheek twitched? Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him closely.
“Indeed it is. For if something had happened to her, I wouldn’t have this joyous moment.”
The way her father had phrased that was a bit odd. She quelled the shiver that ran down her spine. What was he about?
“I’m so happy to be home, Father, to relieve your worries. I did not intend to make you and Mother fret.” Her gaze darted back and forth between the two men. Something was amiss.
“Indeed, child, as we are delighted of your return. And this day is all the more special….” Her father’s eyes filled with joy, and a radiant smile stretched across his face as he gazed from her to Jonathan.
Oh…Oh, no! Her lungs locked, and she gasped for air. He was about to say what she thought he was about to say. Her entire body tensed as bile burned a hasty trail up her throat. Her stomach twisted and heaved. Her hand shot to her mouth, and she swallowed hard, trying to fight back her crumpets, for she didn’t want to embarrass her family by casting up her accounts.
“Yes, child, Jonathan has asked for your hand….”
She choked as she attempted to swallow back the contents of her dinner. Jonathan reached out to grasp her hand, a conflicted smile on his face. The smell of him, hops and watered-down Scotch, collided with her nose. Her stomach would have