Rapture in His Arms by Lynette Vinet

the chair. “You’ll do well, lad. ’Tis nothing to fear.”
    “I ain’t afeared of anythin’ or anyone, sir,” Donovan stiffly responded and rose to his full height of over six feet, almost as if he resented Edwin for thinking he might be frightened of this new undertaking.
    “Forgive me, son. I know you’re a hearty and fearless fellow.” Edwin watched as Donovan turned and started for the door, only to stop for a second and curtly nod his head in Jillian’s direction as if she were an afterthought, before he left the room. A small smile broke out upon Edwin’s face, but there was an anxiousness about him. “He’s a fine, strapping man, don’t you think?”
    “I think he’s insufferable, and I think you’ve lost your wits,” Jillian declared in a breathy voice, unnerved by Donovan’s presence in her home. “What can you possibly be thinking, to train him as overseer? ’Tisn’t my wish to interfere in running the plantation, but this man is a poor choice. You know quite well that Horatio Mortimer had trouble with him as a slave. Edwin, I fear you’ll soon regret your decision to make him overseer.” Jillian’s honesty didn’t seem to trouble Edwin. He continued to smile at her, and a humorous, secretive light warmed his eyes.
    “Donovan will be an asset to me in many ways,” he mysteriously predicted.
    “I fail to see how.” Jillian began clearing the table, believing the conversation was at an end, when she noticed Edwin was standing quite near to her. She sensed he hesitated. “Have we something further to discuss?”
    “Well, I need to ask your help, my dear, but I fear you might refuse me. I pray you do not.”
    “I’ve never refused you anything. What is it?” she suspiciously asked, wondering why Edwin was so nervous all of a sudden.
    He uncertainly scratched the back of his head. The lines around his eyes appeared quite visible and deep. “I’ve discovered that Donovan can’t read or cipher. Horatio never wanted him to learn, so the lad was never taught his letters and numbers.”
    “So? He’s a slave. Slaves aren’t taught to read.” Where was Edwin going with this conversation?
    “Aye, ’tis true, but an overseer needs to know how to write and figure. And I want Donovan as overseer, so he must be taught how to read, write, and cipher. I haven’t the patience or the time for such a task, Jillian, dear, so I had hoped you might consider—teaching him. ’Twould make me very happy if you agreed to tutor him.”
    “Edwin!” The pewter dishes tottered in her hands, and Jillian was forced to place them back on the table or risk dropping them. She shook her head in dismay and distress. How could Edwin ask such a favor of her? Donovan Shay was a man whom she barely tolerated, a man from whom she wished to keep a distance. And Edwin wished for her to teach this savage, ill-bred lout how to read? Her husband must be losing his senses. “I cannot—”
    “I know he’s rough and crude, Jillian; aye, I’m aware of Donovan’s failings,” Edwin hastened to interrupt. “But he’s not a stupid fellow. Nay, I think he’s very bright, and you can help him.”
    “But—but—”
    “Now, don’t deny me this favor. You’re a good Christian woman, aren’t you?”
    “Aye, Edwin, but—”
    “’Tis your Christian duty to help those less fortunate and in need. I trust you shan’t let me down—or Donovan for that matter.” Edwin kissed her forehead, the decision already made, at least as far as Edwin was concerned. “Start teaching him his letters as soon as possible, my dear. You may use my library; aye, the library is the perfect place for Donovan’s schooling. I’ll send him to you on the morrow, after he settles into his cabin. Ah, ’tis grand of you to offer help, Jillian. The good Lord will bless us twofold, just wait and see.” Edwin hurried away with a strange smile on his lips, leaving Jillian standing by the table in mute shock.
    What had gotten into Edwin? His