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Chapter 14
Samantha moaned softly against Jack's mouth as his tongue massaged hers. His hand was wandering playfully along her plunging neckline and his fingers gently dipped into her bodice. Their explorations were cut off by the sound of Phillippe clearing his throat in the doorway anxiously. Blushing furiously, Samantha tugged at the bodice of her gown that Jack had pulled downwards. Jack pulled the sheet over his arousal, more for her modesty than his own or the servant's.
"I thought the Mademoiselle might wish to inform her father of your state of health before he comes into investigate for himself," Phillippe interrupted. Then continued, "I just met your father in the hallway Mademoiselle and told him you were downstairs looking for him."
Realizing the awkward scene Phillippe's intrusion had mercifully spared them, Jack thanked him and told Samantha, "After you tell your father that I continue to exist and the wedding will proceed, come back to me."
Still bright red, she responded, "I'll be back before you know it."
Pressing a kiss to his lips, Samantha got out of bed and moved past Phillippe to search out her father. Jack propped himself up slightly, allowing his valet to fuss with the pillows. Having grown up in a wealthy household, Jack was quite used to the constant intrusion of servants and was undisturbed by the valet's attentions. After vainly demanding a cigarette, Jack commanded the valet bring him his jacket he wore to the duel. When the coat was in hand and Jack's had brushed the cigar case he smiled.
"Another invention from the Colonies, Sir?" Phillippe inquired as Jack withdrew one of the crude cigarettes he'd rolled. To the valet it appeared to be a short thin cigar and looked awfully strange. Ever since their engagement, the Master and the Mademoiselle had been acting very strangely.
"The Colonies? Ah oui, certainment, Phillippe," Jack agreed readily. A quizzical expression crossed his handsome features as he asked, "What do you mean another invention from the Colonies?"
"Only that Mademoiselle explained to me about the strange medicine you have invested in developing involving moldy bread. She insisted on smearing on your wounds and feeding it to you."
His arousal diminished, Jack moved the sheet and lifted the bandage from his thigh. The neatly stitched wound still looked terrible, but without Samantha's inventiveness he would likely be facing amputation. As he held the cigarette into the candle flame, the valet flourished before him, Jack gave a silent prayer of gratitude for his Samantha. Drawing in the smoke, a smile crossed Jack's face as the warm burning sensation of smoke filled his lungs. Samantha loved him and was willing to marry him.
"If you don't mind my saying so Sir, Mademoiselle is remarkable. She never left your side since you returned. Although I still question the wisdom of her giving you her blood instead of sheep's."
Rich tones of Jack's laughter filled the room as Samantha returned from speaking to her father or at least the man who was in this time. Hearing Jack's laughter, she smiled and pushed away, the unpleasant tirade on propriety she'd been subjected to. The man simply didn't understand that she had needed to be by her fiancé's side. Her fiancé, Sam thought looking at Jack's smiling face. Strange only a week ago the notion of marrying him would have been horrifying and now the idea seemed perfect and natural.
But then much had changed, Samantha had changed, not merely their location and time in history. Every kiss and caress Jack had given her on the balcony of the museum in Atlanta had guided her to this point. Shyly Samantha blushed as she went past Phillippe and climbed into Jack's embrace. He took her left hand and kissed her finger near her enormous engagement ring. The valet excused himself for a few moments to give the lover's privacy. Gently, Jack pulled Samantha's mouth to his and kissed her.
In his soft French accent he informed her looking at her ring, "Perhaps we need to find something more romantic and comfortable for your hand when we are in private, non?"
"I'd like that Jack. It would please me to wear a ring you chose rather than some gaudy piece from whomever's estate this is. Speaking of which, do you have any idea where this is or whom this place belongs too?"
"I vaguely recognize the place, it belonged to my ancestor's and I was shown ruins of this place on vacation as a child. There was little left beyond the roses though, the revolution will destroy this place in a few decades."
"That's too bad. I rather like this house. It's grand, but has a coziness, well other than the ballroom."
"True, though it would be a fantastic place for my compu-" Jack trailed off and a frown marred his face. Taking her chin, he demanded, "What happens if we return to our time Samantha? Will you cast me aside and forget me?"
"Jack, I love you," she assured him. "Being here made me stop and examine my life, but to be honest I think it might have taken longer had things not happened the way they had, but the conclusion would have been the same."
"Perhaps," Jack replied non-commitally and cut her protests off with a kiss. After kissing her very thoroughly, Jack told Samantha, "I think you should go to your room and get some rest. Phillippe told me of your vigil and I would hate for you to make yourself ill."
"Why can't I stay with you?" Samantha pressed her lips to Jack's as she asked him.
His smile returning, :"That is exactly why my dear, sleep is not likely to occur if you and I occupy the same bed tonight."
Reluctantly Samantha agreed and left Jack. She went to her room and allowed her maid to undress her and put her in a long white flannel gown. After the maid left, Samantha tried to lay down, but sleep eluded her as she though about Jack. While she couldn't blame Jack for being concerned that she would abandon him if they returned to their own time, her heart ached for him and she wanted to comfort him. Getting out of bed she decided to slip down the hall to Jack's room and see him for at least a few minutes.
Walking down the hallway, Samantha bumped into a pile of trays and bowls that had held ice in Jack's room. Phillippe had piled them in the hall for the footman to take away. Samantha gave a silent prayer of thanks for Jack's recovery, she'd been terrified he wouldn't make it and was relieved that he pulled through. Her hand was just about to turn the knob when an insolent voice called out behind her.
"Going to your pathetic excuse of a man, Mademoiselle?" Dr. Vincent sneered across the hall standing in a dressing gown in a guestroom doorway. "But perhaps you Anglais like a man that bawls like a baby?"
Fury coursed through Samantha's body. How dare this man insult her Jack? Jack had cried in his delirium at the height of his pain and she doubted this man would have borne it even a quarter as well. Ignoring his remark, she was going to go into Jack and put this dreadful man behind her. Dr. Vincent continued to insult Jack and suggested that she needed a real man. That did it! Samantha couldn't bear another moment. Unsure of what to say she spun around.
"How about letting a real man show you pleasure?" the pompous man leered and fondled himself at her.
A glittering expression lit Samantha's eyes and a tight smile crossed her mouth as she responded, "Very well, show me, but first go in your room and start undressing, I'll be but a moment."
As Dr. Vincent walked into his room and stood near the bed, Samantha took a step when something sharp pressed against her ankle. Turning to see the twin knives she and Phillippe had used to shave the mold off the bread, Samantha bent down and picked them up in her left hand. Concealing them in the folds of her nightdress, she walked over the threshold and closed the door behind her...