Johanna Lindsey - Savage Thunder

Vanessa wasn't the only one who had remained loyal through it all. They still had Babette and Jane, their lady's maids from Fleming Hall. The three grooms who saw to the horses, and Sidney and Pear-son, the two menservants who came in most handy whenever they camped out in the open, were the same men Edward had picked for Jocelyn's entourage. They had lost their first cook and her two helpers, but Phil-ippe Marivaux, the temperamental French chef they had found in Italy to replace her, was still with them, as were the Spaniard and the Arab who were later hired to assist him, as well as drive the wagons when necessary. And only four of the original sixteen-man escort had left Jocelyn's employ. Those weren't so easy to replace, for there weren't that many men skilled with weapons who were also willing to leave their homes and countries for what was beginning to seem like a never-ending journey.

At the most, five minutes had passed when Vanessa began again. "You aren't worried about this tiny road we're on, are you?"

"It's only a trail, I believe, and no, we seem to be descending now, so it shouldn't go on much longer."

"Then you were brooding again," Vanessa said with an I-knew-it smugness to her tone. "Not about that chap you had to leave behind in New York, I hope. I thought you had concluded you couldn't marry him until you had disposed of the little matter of your maidenhead?"

Jocelyn didn't blush as she had the first time her unusual predicament had become the topic of conversation. They had spoken of it so often since then, there was nothing left to blush about.

"I haven't changed my mind," Jocelyn replied. "Charles knew of Edward, had even met him on his European tour. Under no circumstance would I allow Charles to become aware of Edward's affliption. I won't have Edward's memory besmirched like that. And there isn't any way Charles wouldn't know of it if I married him — unless of course he has the same affliction, which is hardly likely as young as he is."

"And as sexually aggressive. You did say he cor-nered you in that bedroom and nearly—"

"Yes, well, we both agreed he is more than capa-ble of claiming all marital rights."

Jocelyn was blushing now. She hadn't meant to confide that incident to Vanessa, but the older woman had pried it out of her as usual. Not that she was ashamed of what had happened. Charles had already proposed to her. And if she had drunk a little bit too much at that party and had let Charles seduce her because of it, there wasn't anything so wrong in that considering how they had felt about each other. But that night she had forgotten about her predicament, and if Vanessa hadn't come looking for her, which put an end to Charles' passionate embraces, there wouldn't be a problem anymore. Charles would have found out that the Duke of Eaton's widow was still a virgin.

"If you had loosened up in Morocco," Vanessa re-minded her now, "you could have had a nice little affair with that sheikh what's-his-name who kept pursuing you. He didn't know Edward, didn't even know you were a widow, could barely even speak English, so it wouldn't have made any difference. And all it takes is one lover, my dear, and your problem is over."

"It was too soon, Vanessa. I was still in mourning, if you'll recall."

"I don't see what that has to do with it. I hope you don't think I waited a year after the earl passed on to take a lover. Goodness, no. A woman has needs every bit as strong as a man's."

"I wouldn't know."

Vanessa grinned at that prim tone. "No, you wouldn't — but you will. Or are you getting nervous again?"

"Not at all," Jocelyn said, and meant it, though it was one thing to talk about and something else again to actually do. "It's time to find out what all the fuss is about. Just knowing how it's done isn't enough anymore to satisfy my curiosity. But it can't be just any man."

"No, of course not. A mild attraction isn't enough for the first time. You have to be knocked off your feet at the very least."

"I've been looking," Jocelyn said defensively.

"I know you have, dear. Obviously those dark, swarthy men of Mexico just weren't your cup of tea. If only you had made this decision sooner, before you met someone like Charles, whom you were seriously considering for marriage."

"But how could I know I would want to get married again?"

"I warned you these things just happen. No one plans on falling in love."

"Still, I honestly thought I wouldn't marry. After all, I will have to give up a good deal of the freedom I've come to enjoy if I do."

"With the right man that won't matter at all."

They had decided between them, on that long sea voyage from New York to Mexico, that now that marriage was a possibility for the future, Jocelyn had to get rid of her maidenhead. It was the only way she could keep Edward's name from being blackened with ugly gossip. And after all, a widow had no business being a virgin. That she was one at twenty-two was nothing to be proud of, not when it was the last thing anyone would expect her to be.

Her virginity had at last become a hindrance, and as Vanessa had said, something she should have seen to long ago. Her options now were limited. Having a doctor do it was one. But the thought of instruments being poked inside her to cut her membrane left her shuddering with distaste. The only other option was to take a lover, someone not in her social sphere, someone who had never heard of Edward, and especially someone she wasn't likely to ever encounter again when it was over. Whether she then returned to New York and Charles Abington the Third, or whether she met someone else suitable to her station and means, she could marry without worry. Edward's affliction would never come to light.

Jocelyn was ready, had been ever since they had docked in Mexico. And Vanessa was wrong. She had found several Mexicans quite attractive. Unfortu-nately, her interest was not returned, or if k was, she was too inexperienced to have read the subtle signs. She was not at all adept at flirting.

It wasn't going to be easy, this matter of finding a lover. Besides being so inexperienced, she had Mr.

Longnose to consider, and being unable to stay in any one place long enough to develop a relationship to the point where she could entice a man into her bed. She supposed she should hope to be pursued again, as she had been in the Middle East, and on the East Coast of America. Some countries bred men more aggres-sive than others, or at least more bold in their desires. She could use a little of that boldness now, boldness she had heretofore considered sheer arrogance and audacity.

Recalling the bloodhound who was still dogging their trail, Jocelyn said, "I wasn't brooding about Charles, you know. In fact, it's been quite some time since I've even thought of him. Do you think I mightn't have been as fond of him as I supposed?"

"My dear, you really hadn't known him long enough. They say some loves are rather instanta-neous, though I've never experienced one of those myself. Most love takes time to grow. We might have spent several months in New York, but you didn't even meet the man until three weeks before we were forced to leave. I find the fact that you were interested at all a very good sign, since you have tended to ig-nore men for the most part these past years. Now. tell me why our persistent friend the Longnose is troubling you. You can't seriously think he's discovered our whereabouts this soon, not after all that zigzagging we did across Mexico?"

Jocelyn had to smile at Vanessa's assurance that there were only two things she could possibly brood about. "No, I don't see how he could have known we sailed south, when we could just as well have returned to Europe."

"We don't know how he found us in New York either, but he did. I'm beginning to wonder if he hasn't got one of our people in his pay."