Throughout the night the rain was muted, and at dawn the clouds thinned before a freshening breeze blew them away. Since the house was set on a gently rolling plateau, the height of the land lent Colter a view of the stubbled field and forest beyond as he watched the day begin from his place beside Elizabeth.
He crossed his arms behind his head and released his breath, knowing that while the hours of his sleep were few, they were the most peaceful ones he could count in months.
In contrast, he knew that Elizabeth’s restless turnings and senseless murmurs offered little of what he had found. Less than an hour before, she had turned to him, her head tucked between his neck and shoulder, one hand beneath her cheek, the other against his chest.
In an agony of desire he lay next to her, the feel of her unfettered breast burning his skin. His hungry gaze roved her parted lips and his tongue moistened his own suddenly dry ones. It took all of his considerable self-discipline not to angle his head so that their lips could meet.
As the sun rose, its light turned her hair to a bright, almost copperlike shine and revealed the sleep flush on her cheek.
Colter tried to ignore the fierce quickening in his loins, but every breath they shared, every moment beside her, only made his desire increase.
Like the first time…
He had not noticed her immediately when he had arrived late for a neighbor’s house party. A country set was forming and he was content to watch until she caught his gaze. He demanded an introduction from his hostess, received a shy smile from Elizabeth and wanted her then and there.
He could recall the faint strains of the waltz that bad played. They danced, but halfway through he led her out to the garden. He kissed her, passion flaring bright and hot after that first whimper of sweet agony when their lips parted. He wanted her even if it would destroy him. She was far too young…and she wanted him, too.
Elizabeth. Her lips soft, lush and hungry. Her breasts rising and falling with each unstable breath. Trembling a little in his arms, filled with bravado, so damn innocent and seductive…
He had longed to tell her to listen to her own instincts and run. She was afraid, but not enough. And he had fought for sanity and control.
One year. He almost won the battle. But each time they were together, letting her go became more agonizing, more an impossibility.
And he loved her.
“Colter?” Elizabeth’s quick intake of breath brought Colter instantly back to the present.
“I hope the unspoken part of that question is what am I doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, closing her eyes to steal another minute of his warmth. Her fingers kneaded lightly against his chest, fingertips tangling in the dark swatch of chest hair. Colter’s groan, soft but coming from deep inside him, made her snatch her hand away as if burned.
Before he could stop her, she twisted from him and sat up, shoving back the hair freed from her braid. “What are you doing here?”
His hand stole a long lock of her hair and he tugged gently, silently demanding that she return to her place at his side. Elizabeth’s back, rigid with tension, drew his touch. “Look at me. I did no more than sleep beside you. The first peaceful sleep I’ve had in months.”
“Colter, are you mad? Nicole could—”
“She won’t.” A tug on her bodice tumbled her back against the pillows. Taking instant advantage, Colter leaned over her, the shift of his weight forcing the feather tick beneath them to form a deeper nest.
“Elizabeth.” He touched her throat, whispering her name again. Scattered kisses from his lips feathered her jawline, gently coaxing and lulling her to feel the same sweet heat that filled him. The need to shelter and protect her, to hold and touch her was balm to his soul. And as her sleep-flushed body softened to his, Colter believed he could desire nothing more than to remain thus for time unmeasured.
Her lush mouth drew his gaze. Her lips begged for his.
Her eyes denied him. He kissed them closed.
Elizabeth was torn. She felt as if she were betraying her deepest self to remain within his sheltering arms, wanting their warmth and their strength. Once she had belonged here, letting his heat flow over and through her, taking the chill of fear and loneliness away.
She was filled with a deep longing and trembled with the force and suddenness of it. The price of her need for Colter the first time had been high.
Panic assailed her. The skirt and petticoat were tangled around her legs, the quilt an added bond. And Colter…
Her eyes opened to meet the desire in his. She slid her hands up his arms, cupping his shoulders, her fingers eager to tangle in his hair, holding his head fast. She didn’t want to think.
He molded her to his hard, warm body, his lips plundering hers again and again—elusive wisps of pleasure, soft, coaxing touches that melted what little resistance she had. When his tongue licked the corners of her mouth, his murmurs of encouragement brought a cry of arousal from her.
She craved his taste. Her body craved his passion, remembering its long abstinence from all things sexual. Elizabeth arched up against him. Her sense of shame was given a forced burial as she opened her mouth to him.
He feasted and she gloried in it. The sounds he made, male, guttural, mating sounds, gratified the lover he had taught her to be. For him. Only for him.
Colter left her mouth and swept hot kisses on her cheeks and nose, her temples and earlobes. His hands slid beneath her to secure her hips hard against his. The base of her throat enticed his mouth and he used his tongue shamelessly to excite her.
She drew his head up, meeting his lips for another kiss of fire. With wild, savage thrusts he deflowered her mouth and left no question that it was his to claim, his absolute possession.
And Elizabeth gave to him even as she pulled his lower lip into the heat he created of her mouth. Her tongue stroked the wet lush fullness, branding him hers.
He rolled to his side, freeing one hand to tense around the slimness of her waist before sliding up to mold the undercurve of her breast. Elizabeth moaned, wildly tossing her head.
Colter freed her mouth. The sharp-set glitter of desire brightened his eyes as he looked down at her. She held her own gaze to his and his hand covered her breast with a gentleness that was almost reverent.
“Did you nurse Nicole?” he whispered in a passion-rough voice. Her lips quivered, her nod barely discernible. He massaged her through the bodice, rubbing the silken material back and forth over her fevered skin until he felt the nipple bud against his palm.
Elizabeth’s cry of desire turned to denial. She shoved his hand away, turning, nearly falling from the bed.
“No. I can’t do this…” Pulling the quilt free, she slid off the bed. She wrapped her arms around her waist and doubled over. Almost immediately, Colter was beside her.
“Are you in pain? Dammit! Tell me what I did.” He couldn’t make sense of the wild shaking of her head. “You wanted me, you can’t deny that. Did I hurt you?”
With deep heaving breaths, she slowly regained a measure of control. Yes, she wanted him. But she wouldn’t admit it. His body heat surrounded her, his taste was melded with hers, and he towered over her, threateningly close.
Colter made an effort to soften his voice. “I have a right to know what caused you…” He paused to think, then asked, “Did I violate your sensibilities by asking about nursing Nicole?”
“No. I…” How could she tell him?
“Sit down, you’re shaking like a leaf in the wind. And you will answer me or you’ll not leave this room.”
She sat, not at his order but because her legs would not support her. Colter stood before her, his back to the window’s light, leaving his face shadowed.
“Tell me. I am not going to disappear from your life. Eventually, every ghost, every lie, anything that keeps you locked away from me is going to be shared.”
“You’re a man, Colter. There is nothing I can say to make you understand.”
“Try me, madam.” Coming to his knees before her, he took her hands in his. “I don’t want to demand from you. I simply want you to share with me.” The anguish in her eyes pierced him. “Elizabeth, I had four years of my daughter’s life stolen from me. But the greater crime by far was the loss of the woman I loved. Would you still deny me?”
“Colter,” she cried, leaning forward and welcoming the sweep of his arms that brought her against him.
“What the hell did they do to you?”
“Just hold me. I need you to hold me. I’ll tell you, I promise,” she pleaded in a rush before she could think. “Just give me time.”
As he cradled her in his arms, Colter closed his eyes. Time was all she asked from him. Time was the one thing he couldn’t freely promise to give.
He rocked her and long minutes later, her whispers nearly undid him.
“James stood up to Alma. He insisted Nicole stay with me. I wanted to nurse her, even if it is unfashionable. I had my baby for almost three weeks before Alma found an excuse to send James away. She took Nicole away from me within minutes of his leaving and gave her to a wet nurse. By the time James came back, it was too late. And you know he was no match for Alma.”
He took the pain, the bitterness and the despair of each word and held them deep within himself, offering soothing, meaningless murmurs. In a sense, what she had claimed was true; he didn’t understand her loss. But instinct warned him that there was more. Cautioned by her promise to tell him, he waited. And jealousy rose. He tried not to think of James with his child, with Elizabeth…As if to stop his thoughts, Elizabeth continued.
“The pain drove me mad. I wanted and needed my baby.”
“Yes, love. Yes, you would.”
“Alma wouldn’t let me see her. I couldn’t hold her. There was no relief to be had. Alma taunted me each time she came to visit, and James said I upset him and kept away from the house.”
Stroking her head, pressing her tight to his body, Colter scattered kisses against her hair.
“And you weren’t there, Colter.”
It was the softest of whispers. The deepest cut. He swallowed the only defense he could offer. I didn’t know.
Inside, rage grew to fury—not the burning, white-hot fury that demanded reckless revenge, but a colder, deadly fury that made Colter vow he would live to see the Warings pay for the pain they had caused Elizabeth.
He held her while she cried. But as her sobs lessened and she grew quiet, Colter’s need to hear the rest of the story grew stronger. He hated to take advantage of her vulnerable state, but he knew that once she became more calm and rational, she would try to rebuild a wall between them.
“Why did Alma hate you?”
“She didn’t. Not at first.” Elizabeth stroked his beard-stubbled cheek and wiped the last of the tears from her eyes. She avoided his gaze, and he sensed her reluctance to tell him more.
“Then tell me, why did you turn to James when you learned you were carrying my child?”
“Robert died a few weeks after you left for England. When they learned about my half-brother’s death, Alma and James paid their respects. I kept fainting and Alma told me why.”
Elizabeth, restless, moved to stand. Colter let her go, knowing she was already withdrawing from him. But his need to know more stilled his protest.
“At first,” she continued in an emotionless voice, “I didn’t want to believe her. Each day she came, and she was always kind. The weeks slipped by. I was alone. There was no one else I could confide in. Alma didn’t judge me, but she did beg me to consider what I would do. When my half-brother Thomas was lost during a storm at sea, I no longer had any family to cling to. That’s when James told me of your letter. I don’t know why he lied. He offered me the protection of his name and a home for my child.”
“I heard that your brothers both died and their ships were sold. But your wish that I shouldn’t contact you—”
“Not mine! James’s wish, remember that, Colter.” Color flagged her cheeks and with a distracted air, she glanced down at herself. “Nicole will wonder where I am.”
It was pointless to continue. Colter rose. “I’ll return to the city, but I’m coming back, Elizabeth.”
“Give me time.”
“I can’t. There’s a war going on, much as I would like to forget it. I was granted three days’ leave and need to be with you and my daughter. Before you say no, Emily has graciously offered me the hospitality of her home.”
“But not my bedroom!”
“No,” he agreed with a grin. “Only you have that right. But I want you and no matter what lies you tell yourself, love, you want me, too.”
“I’m James’s wife,” she reminded him in an anguished whisper.
“For his betrayal, James is a dead man.”
Four mules were loaded with provisions to send to Miss Emily’s. Colter satisfied himself with securing enough foodstuffs to keep them for weeks. He had made arrangements with several merchants to supply staple goods and fresh meat when it was available, all bills to be sent to his account. He did not delay in setting up a trust fund for Nicole. He could not claim her as his, and so had named his near-brotherly friendship with James as his relation to Nicole, choking on the gall it raised.
What Colter desperately wanted was to find a castle for Nicole. While treasures of every description were available for sale as families in need parted with their possessions, nothing resembling a castle had surfaced. He had vowed to turn the city upside down, but time was against him and he began to rethink his rashness.
Aid came from an unexpected source.
Colter returned to his hotel that afternoon to change from his uniform. He dreaded finding a message that he was recalled to duty.
Needlessly, it turned out. But Andre was waiting.
One look at Colter’s unshaven face and Andre knew he had not been back to the hotel since the day before. “The war is taking its toll on your skill, mon ami, if it took you all night to console the lovely Elizabeth.”
“You court death recklessly, my friend.”
“More than you know.”
It took several preoccupied moments before Colter realized that Andre was serious. Silently cursing a possible added delay, he stopped stropping his razor and faced Andre.
“If you’ve killed a man I’ll have you out of the city before anyone knows.”
Helping himself to the bottle of bourbon, Andre poured a drink and sipped it. “I am thinking about it, but the deed remains undone.”
“Don’t be selfish with my liquor. Pour one for me. And then, tell me what’s wrong.”
Andre handed him a drink, topped off his own glass and asked, “How much money would you lend me? Before you answer, Colter, remember my estate is gone. My life, as yours, is uncertain at best. All told, the chance of repayment is slight.”
“How much did you lose?”
The amber liquid in his glass drew Andre’s gaze. “I would admit this to no man but you. What price would I put on my heart?”
“A woman? Who? Have you fallen prey to—”
“As you have to Elizabeth?”
Colter met Andre’s knowing look, their emotions stripped bare for the moment before Andre looked away.
“Write out your request and I’ll sign it. You can have the money immediately.”
“Without questions, mon ami?”
Colter faced his shaving mirror. “Tell me whatever you wish. If you’d rather say nothing, I’ll accept that.”
“Two thousand in gold and an hour of your time,” Andre intoned, only the slight tremble of the glass in his hand revealing how important this was to him.
Colter set down the razor, stripped off his uniform pants and walked to the wardrobe. Removing a shirt from the folded pile, he tossed it to Andre. “Finish packing for me.”
Colter found a little problem waiting at the bank. When his demand for gold was met with vague excuses, he used his rank and hinted that government security was at stake, dropping a few prominent names after swearing the banker to secrecy.
“Now what?” he asked once they were outside.
“You risk a great deal for me. And now, we walk.” Andre glanced at Colter and, without warning, said, “She is a quadroon.”
Colter chose to ignore the underlying note of challenge in Andre’s voice. “She must be lovely,” was his only comment.
“In my city each year, there is a ball that brings men from all over the South as the petite amours are presented to possible patrons. They are the loveliest women of color to be found anywhere.”
“And I would imagine a man’s purse weighs in the consideration of his patronage.”
“Without question, mon ami. Come, we turn down here,” Andre said, leading Colter away from the center of the city. “It is not much farther. And to continue, the patron must prove that he can offer financial security, private lodgings in an acceptable area, servants, a carriage, horses and other concessions that must be carefully negotiated before he takes possession. The liaison is often long lasting and mutually advantageous. Sometimes,” he added in a strained voice, “there are children.”
Crossing the street, Colter lengthened his stride to catch up with Andre. He studied Andre’s drawn features. Colter had always assumed that Andre’s dark olive complexion owed itself to a Moorish ancestor. For a moment, he wondered if Andre was trying to tell him something more. He stifled the traitorous thought before it could grow, and asked, “What happens if two men want the same woman?”
“Whoever offers the most will have her.”
“Is that what happened here, Andre? Did two of you want the same woman?”
“Non. Brice found a widow to console early in the evening and later, I found a game to my liking. My winnings were modest, but at another table, the play was heavy. There was a stir as demand for immediate payment was made. The man, near twice your age, Colter, claimed he had just arrived and had not established credit, but did offer to settle the debt with something more valuable. Within minutes he returned with the most exquisite woman I have seen. She was…” Andre’s voice broke. “A dolt could see her fear.”
They both stopped to allow a wagon to pass, then crossed another street lined with modest homes. Colter wasn’t sure where they were going. He asked nothing, willing to give Andre time to compose himself.
“They were all drunk, not as you and I would be, for I am sure there wasn’t a gentleman among them. But I digress. Games were abandoned and an auction was suggested. You have seen this before.”
“Several times, when a gambler was down. I also recall a pair who worked small towns, to their profit, I believe, until they were caught. The gambler would be unable to settle his debt, and explain he needed money. Then he would hold an impromptu auction, collect his money, and disappear. The slave always escaped by morning.”
“Have you ever bought at an auction?”
Once again, Colter caught the odd note in Andre’s voice and chose to ignore it. “What happened last night?”
“They demanded to see what they were getting.”
“And you were offended?”
“As you would have been. These were not men, but animals.”
“Let me guess,” Colter said. “You offered a distraction. A game of chance, perhaps doubling the stakes just to make it enticing enough that none could refuse. And you won.”
“When did you come to know me so well?”
“When I first risked my life with you at my back.”
Andre stopped in front of a house one shy of the corner. “This is it.”
They proceeded up the walk and Colter, ever alert, noticed the slight movement of the lace curtain in an upstairs window. Andre raised the tarnished brass knocker. The door opened almost before he could use it.
As they were ushered into the dimly lit hall, Colter watched the man closing the door behind them. The man ignored Colter, staring instead at Andre.
“You have the money? In gold?”
“Where is she?”
“The money first.”
Colter heard the chime of a clock in the next room and turned to the sound. The furniture in the parlor was draped with muslin covers except for a large chair before the fire, which drew his gaze to the mantel. There, resting in lonely splendor, was a miniature replica of a castle. The chime sounded the second hour, and as Colter approached, two heralds sprang from the castle doors. A lilting tune played as they followed tracks that made them appear to march before the castle. Entranced, Colter listened and admired the fine porcelain details. A rose trellis climbed up the wall to a center balcony. As the music played, the dainty figure of a woman came forth, dressed in gold cloth, her arm slowly raised and moving as if she waved to an unseen crowd below.
She retreated, as did the heralds, and the music stopped. Colter didn’t realize he had lifted the clock until his attention was taken from it.
“It was a child’s delight.”
Colter looked at the man by his side. There was a weary stoop to his shoulders and a tremor to the hand that reached for the clock. Colter would not release it.
“How much?”
“It is not for sale.”
“It could delight another child. A little girl.”
“Yours?”
Colter glanced at the doorway where Andre stood alone in the shadowed light, for the velvet portieres were drawn across the windows. Colter sensed a tension between them, a demand for truth that would again put them on equal footing. Still holding Andre’s gaze, he nodded. “Yes. Mine.”
Andre spoke rapidly in his native tongue, leaving Colter to stand alone as the man walked away from him, shaking his head in refusal.
If it were possible, Colter believed the man’s shoulders bowed even farther as Andre continued, low-voiced, intense, using every bit of flair at his command to gain the clock for him.
“Tell him I’ll pay whatever he asks, Andre. Don’t bargain. I want the clock.”
With an abrupt turn, the man faced Colter. “I wish your child life to enjoy it.”
“I can’t thank you enough. Wait, I don’t know your name.”
The man raised a hand in Colter’s direction, putting an end to the conversation. He obeyed, but did so out of sensitivity for the man’s double loss. Colter set the clock down on the large chair, and used its cast-off muslin cover to wrap the clock carefully. Carrying his gift, Colter reached Andre just as a soft rustle of cloth drew his gaze to the staircase.
The woman was just as Andre claimed—exquisite. She moved with a liquid grace, and her fawnlike eyes met his for a moment before she looked at Andre. Her hair was a mass of ebony curls, her skin the delicate hue of copper. As she neared, Andre raised her hand to his lips.
“As I promised, Naomi, I have come for you.”
Her smile was as shy as Elizabeth’s had been when he first met her and pierced Colter with a sense of urgency.
“Andre, the matter between us is settled. I leave you to make what arrangements you wish. Time demands that I go.”
“I wish you joy, mon ami. As I will have.”
Colter opened the door and heard a last admonishment from the old man.
“Treasure these gifts. They are priceless.”