Chapter 7

"Damn and blast!" Rae's heartfelt sentiment was intended for her ears alone, but Lazarus heard his mistress's distress and tossed his head from side to side, snorting in agreement. Rae grasped her mount's black mane, steadying him and herself while she hopped on one foot beside him, trying to dislodge a stone that had slipped through a tear in the sole of her boot.

"We make a fine pair, don't we, Lazarus? Both of us in need of new shoes and sweeter dispositions, I'll wager." The offending bit of rock fell back to the dusty road. She patted Lazarus's flank affectionately and began walking, limping slightly when she touched down on the tender portion of her foot. Beside her, the horse favored his left foreleg where he had taken a pebble that refused Rae's best attempt at removal.

Jericho could not quite curb his grin as he came upon them, limping in unison along the rutted road. He reined in his mount, a spirited bay mare that danced in front of Lazarus as if mocking his gimpy gait, and leaned forward in his saddle.

"Athena is as ill-mannered as her rider, Lazarus. They are both gloating over our misfortune. Pay them no mind." Rae encouraged her horse to keep going while Jericho held Athena to an ambling walk beside them.

"What happened?" Jericho asked, undaunted by Rae's cheek. Since the confrontation in the summerhouse not yet one week ago, she had thawed noticeably in her attitude toward him. At least she did not retreat from a room when he happened to come upon her, and Noah once timed them at twelve minutes before Jericho pushed Rae into the boughs with his provocation. That had brought a smile to the rest of the McClellans, and a scowl to Rae's finely cut mouth when she realized she had been the evening's entertainment. But the most important realization—that Jericho's provoking was all in aid of securing her heart—went right past her.

From his superior height Jericho looked down on Rae, thinking that the sort of provocation she needed at the moment required his mouth hot on hers. She always looked in need of kissing.

Her black velvet riding hat sat at an odd angle on the crown of her auburn hair and the feather accent dipped and waved as she limped along. He had a desire to pluck the jaunty creation, toss it to one side, and loose the braid that coiled so primly on her head. His fingers would tangle in the waves, trapping her, forcing her to quiet as he tilted her face upward and accepted the invitation on her parted lips.

"Did you hear a word I said?" Rae demanded with a touch of impatience. She glanced up a second too late to see the arrested expression on Jericho's face.

Jericho shook himself out of his reverie. "You said something about Lazarus catching a stone. I didn't get it all."

"Humph. I thought I was talking to the air. Shall I repeat myself or is it enough, do you think?"

Yes, her mouth truly did look in need of kissing. It was pursed comically to one side in Rae's version of exasperation. Jericho blinked. "It's enough. Have you been walking long?"

"Not above thirty minutes. Lazarus and I went farther from the house than was my original intention. It is such a lovely day for riding—"

"Or walking."

"That too. I expect we'll have a snowfall before long. Have you noticed how it grows colder each day? Winter will be upon us before we know it."

"Red, why are you talking about the weather?"

Rae thought about that a moment. "I suppose because I am not in the mood to be needled and I know you have a particular fondness for that pastime."

"You know, I admire that honest streak in you that makes you speak your mind. If I promise not to be objectionable, will you ride with me? Athena can carry us both." He showed her by moving back in the saddle and making a place for her to sit. Jericho would have been surprised if Rae hadn't studied him a bit skeptically before she took his proffered hand. There was a certain caution about her that had not been evident on the schooner. He could barely blame her for cultivating a little circumspection around him.

Athena pranced a bit as Rae settled herself in front of Jericho. The fit was tighter than she'd imagined it would be, especially when his arms came around her waist to take up the reins in both hands. Her hip was trapped in the cradle of his, and it was very hard to sit without leaning back into his encircling arm and shoulder. This closeness confused her, equal parts security and danger. She was sure she was ill-prepared for this assault on her senses. "I don't think this is—"

"Hush. You're up here now. Let it rest."

His voice was very close to her ear and his breath brushed a stray stand of hair past her lobe. Unconsciously she lifted her shoulder to rub the spot that he had tickled and glanced back self-consciously to see if he had noticed. She thought it was probably a mistake, because it put her lips in very close proximity to his, and she knew a swift desire to have that mouth on hers.

"Rae?"

"Hmm?"

"Would I be being objectionable if I kissed you?"

"Only if you didn't."

Rae was not certain what she expected, but it was not the whisper of his mouth across her own, more a promise of a kiss than a kiss itself. She leaned into him, following as his head lifted, and this time she initiated the sweet brush of their lips. Her mouth parted invitingly, touched him once, twice, then lost contact as Athena grew restless beneath them. She felt Jericho's legs tighten on the horse to still her movements. Rae smiled nervously and her tongue wet her lower lip. "Mayhap this is not a good idea."

With a mouth like she had it was always a good idea. But what he said was, "Slip your arms around my neck."

No doubt it was another mistake to obey the husky command in his voice, and she would have cause later to wonder at her sanity, but for now there was naught else she wanted in the world. Rae's arms circled his neck, and if Athena had reared up on her hind legs Rae thought there would be no dislodging Jericho from the firmness of her embrace. Jericho's mouth now made good on its promise, tasting the fullness of what Rae offered. His tongue slipped along the edge of her teeth and traced the soft underside of her lip, and when he pressed harder, nudging her teeth apart, Rae eagerly accepted his charged hunger.

Neither of them could have said where that kiss might have taken them had it not been interrupted. Jericho liked to think he would not have ravished her in the road. Rae liked to think he might have at least considered it. But the intervention of a dusty stranger and his nag made their thoughts come to nothing as they pulled guiltily apart. Neither of them knew when he had come upon them or how long he had been staring at them.

Rae did not particularly care for the looks of the stranger. It was difficult to tell his height while he was mounted, but she thought him shorter than she was and possessed of a braggadocio manner that she often found in men who had nothing at all to boast of. He completely ignored her, which did nothing to win her favor, and addressed Jericho, a sly smile on his lips and a gutter wink in his dark eyes that made his apology ring false.

"Beggin' yer pardon, sir. But I didn't see you till I took the bend. Then I says, 'Well, Sam Judge'—that's what I call myself—'Well, Sam Judge,' says I, 'mayhap they won't take no notice of you if you go quietly on by.' But Berry here..." He patted his animal on the neck and the nag tossed her head in agitation. Sam Judge rolled his eyes as if he didn't know what to make of the horse's skittishness, while Rae thought personally the horse was well within her rights. "Berry here ain't known for goin' silently about, and she's the one what ought to beg your pardon."

Rae did not have to turn around to know that Jericho had taken the full measure of the man in front of them and that his eyes would be glacial. That was why the warmth of his reply startled her. "Then we'll accept her apology. Where are you headin', Sam Judge?"

"That's jest the thing. I don't rightly know. I'm lookin' fer a place called McClellan's Landing. I've got a packet here fer a Miz Ashley Lynne, but folks I asked in Norfolk says they only know Ashley McClellan and directed me this way. Had to ferry the river and hire me this nag to git this fer."

"I'm Ashley McClellan," Rae said calmly. "Lynne is my maiden name."

Jericho nearly groaned aloud. Had he really thought she was learning caution? Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "I'm Jerusalem McClellan," he said easily, surreptitiously squeezing Rae's waist to remain quiet and let him handle this. "Ashley is my wife."

"Hear that, Berry? The one you thought was a doxy is the wife. Jest shows you can't be too quick to sit in judgment. Oh, but it's good to see a marriage what ain't ended after the vows been said."

Rae stiffened. He had called her a doxy! If Jericho didn't smash his face she was going to—as soon as she found a way out of his steel embrace. Sam Judge's insolent gaze was all over her, and Jericho wasn't lifting a finger to poke the blighter's eyes out.

"You said you have a packet?" Jericho prompted.

"That I do." He unfastened two buttons on his jacket, reached inside his vest and pulled out a rather thick packet wrapped in oilcloth and bound neatly with twine. Sam Judge turned it over so they could see there was also a seal and that it remained unbroken. "So there's no doubtin' Sam Judge's honesty," he said, kicking Berry forward and delivering the goods into Rae's hands.

Her fingers gripped the edges tightly and willed Jericho to ease up on her arms so she could bat Sam Judge over the head with it. Jericho had even taken his foot from the stirrup and trapped her ankles beneath his calf. He knew she wanted to get one good kick in before the stranger departed. She supposed they must look very cozy to Sam Judge.

Gritting her teeth, Rae smiled sweetly. "Thank you kindly, Mr. Judge. Would you like to come to the landing for some refreshment?" My brothers will put your eyes out. "I imagine you've had a tiring trip." And I'll stomp all over your dirty grin. "Most couriers bring our mail by way of the river. It's an easier journey." Then we'll ask questions about why you're sniffing around our home with packages for Ashley.

"That's your home over there?" he asked, pointing to the east wing of the house that was the only part visible from the road.

"My parents' home," Jericho answered for Rae. "Will you have that refreshment? Perhaps a reply will be necessary and you can carry it back for my wife?"

Sam Judge was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Rae mentally applauded Jericho's inventiveness. They really did need to bring Judge in so they could question him, though how they would keep it from Ashley she didn't know.

Judge pretended to give the cast of the sky a great deal of thought before he replied. "I'd like that refreshment, o' course, and I'd like to oblige you with yer reply, but it looks like a storm's brewing over yonder. Wouldn't be surprised if it snowed a might. Berry and me don't want to be caught in that."

Rae wondered what he would have done if the weather had not been so accommodating. There were some ominous-looking clouds in the northwest. "Are you certain? We can put you up for the night."

"Don't want to get snowed in, Mrs. McClellan." He kicked Berry hard in the flanks and turned her. "Nice bit of luck, chancin' upon the two of you this way. Saved Berry's agin' legs." He tipped his dusty hat to each of them in turn. "Hope I've been the bearer of good news." He gave Berry another nudge and she picked up her pace. His voice trailed off as he continued to talk to his animal. "Nice folks, ain't they, Berry? Don't know when I last seen a wife that kissed like a..."

"Ooh!" Rae struggled in Jericho's arms.

"Stop it! Don't listen to him. We have to get back to the house. Will your horse find his own way?"

"Of course, but he's hurt. I hate to leave him to make his own way back. Go on, boy. Go on, Lazarus." She leaned over, slapped him on the rump, and watched him go. "Why didn't you run him through?"

Jericho gave Athena a light kick. "Lazarus?"

"No. Sam Judge!"

"Oh, we're back to him? And what should I have used to do the deed? I know it's gauche of me to have left the house without my dress sword, but there it is. I would have my knife, but your mother frowns on me carryin' a weapon all the time."

"Do not make light of me, Jericho Smith! You know what that man was!"

Jericho gave Rae a small shake. "Exactly. Which is why I was not goin' to try to take him while I had your safety to think of. I consider myself lucky to be alive as it is. Did you see the piece he was carrying in his breeches? Loaded too, I'll wager, and ready to cut me down once he had a clear shot. It was you he wanted, or rather Ashley. I don't doubt he would have taken you, if he thought he could have got you away from me."

"Then you weren't trying to keep me from landing him a facer? You were using me as a shield!"

"A bit of both, I'm afraid. Not very chivalrous, but undeniably true. And your own fault, I might add. What possessed you to tell him you were Ashley?"

"Because I wanted to see that packet before Ashley saw it. Only her uncle would have the audacity to send her something after all these years and still refuse to recognize her marriage. That it was addressed to Ashley Lynne was a deliberate cut, and I will not have her hurt again. My family has suffered aplenty at that man's hands! Anyway," she said, calming herself, "you did not have to say you were Salem."

"What? And ruin Ashley's rep after you announced Lynne was your maiden name? Who exactly was it she was supposed to be kissing if not her husband?"

Rae frowned deeply. "I take your point. Oh, Jericho, what are we going to do?"

Jericho reined in Athena at the summerhouse. "Let's have a look at that packet before we go in the house. I don't want Ashley accidently coming upon us." He helped Rae down, then dismounted himself, favoring his injured leg only the slightest degree. He gave Athena a nudge in the direction of the stables.

Unlike the last time they had been in the summerhouse, Jericho and Rae did not choose opposite sides. Rae sat close at Jericho's side, huddled for warmth. A brisk wind had kicked up, and the sky was gray now as the dark clouds Sam Judge had seen moved toward them with surprising speed. The feather in Rae's hat tickled her cheek once too often, and she tore the thing off impatiently. Jericho took the packet from her lap and examined the seal.

"Recognize it?" he asked, lifting it for her inspection.

An elaborately scrolled L was at the center of the seal and on its perimeter was a Latin inscription Rae could not read. "It's the Lynne seal," she said. "Ashley showed it to me once. She told me what those words mean. I've forgotten now."

"Vestiga nulla retrosum. It means no returning footsteps. Fitting, don't you think? Nigel never turns back."

Rae's head snapped up, her coiled braid lost its moorings, and her hands fell slowly to her lap. She looked at him shrewdly. "This is not the time, but be warned, Jericho, I will discover how it is you can read Latin. Heavens! You're more a mystery than a certain lightskirt who could read the King's English."

"Don't refine on it, Rae," he said tersely. "Are those the words Ashley told you?"

"Yes. It's the Lynne seal."

Jericho took off the twine and broke the seal. Inside the oilcloth were a number of letters, all individually sealed. Jericho hesitated. "Should we?"

"Absolutely." She took the first one from the pile and cracked the seal. "You take the next," she told him as she unfolded the vellum. She began to read in silence while Jericho opened another missive. Minutes later she folded it again and set it down, her hands trembling, her face pale. She looked askance at Jericho. He had just finished reading, and a muscle leaped in his clenched jaw. "He's obsessed with having her back at Linfield, isn't he?" she asked in a choked little voice. "He writes over and over for her to return to her home."

"There were some very ugly threats scattered among those pleas in the letter I read. Yours?"

She nodded. "His mind isn't right. It can't be. Some of the things he said he would do..."

Jericho picked up another letter, ripped it open, and carefully read the contents. He would not let Rae touch them again, but his impassive face told her that each was like the one she'd first read. In the end he gathered them up and wrapped the oilcloth about them, slipping the twine around the packet. "They date from as long as two years ago to as recently as ten weeks ago. There are threats against the children, Courtney first, and later Trenton is mentioned."

"Dear God!"

"Rae, he must have been getting reports on Ashley while she and Salem were in New York. There are some threats directed at you, also." Jericho's fist slammed into the bench. "Dammit! Why didn't your brother have something done about Nigel Lynne five years ago?"

"I believe he tried, Jericho," Rae said quietly. Her chest felt tight as she thought how much Jericho must love Ashley. He had to know that Salem did everything in his power to protect his wife, but for Jericho it still wasn't enough. "There were few recourses available to Salem. Have you forgotten there has been war these last years?"

"Pray, do not be stupid."

"Then, pray, what would you have done? Sent someone to kill him as he has sent people here?"

"No. I would have seen to the matter myself."

Rae had guessed as much. "Which is precisely what Ashley would not permit! Did you know my father suspects she is really the owner of the Linfield holdings? Papa thinks Nigel was disinherited, but Ashley will have none of it! She wants nothing to do with her uncle, and that includes not letting her husband within striking distance of him. He is a dangerous man, Jericho. We are all safer here, and that is why Ashley would never let Salem go to England and finish it."

Jericho's knuckles whitened on the packet. "Rae, listen to me. I know what you say is true, but these letters are something else again. These threats to you and the children cannot be dismissed. I have some assurance that you might, just might, be able to defend yourself. But what of Courtney and Trenton?"

Rae clutched Jericho's arm. It was only the thickness of his riding coat that prevented her nails from scoring him. "Don't speak of that! I tell you we are safe at the landing!"

He knew she wanted to believe it was true. He wished to God it were. "I'm going to bury this packet out here. I refuse to take it into the house. I cannot conceive of the place where it cannot be stumbled upon. If Salem demands to see the evidence, though I doubt that he will, he can see it here."

Rae agreed numbly. "Whatever you think best." She leaned back, shutting her eyes while Jericho stepped to the back of the summerhouse and vaulted gracefully over the rail, dropping to the ground out of view of the house. It was not long before he was back and pulling Rae to her feet.

"The ground was hard. God, I hate dirt under my nails."

Rae's giggle was a little hysterical.

"Rae?" He had her in his arms in the next moment. She was shaking. "You're so cold." He rubbed her back, her upper arms. Finally he simply drew her icy hands under his coat and held her. "It's all right. Everything's going to be fine. I promise."

She hugged him, resting her cheek against his smooth linen shirt. "Why has the duke sent the letters now? Why after all this time?" Jericho did not have any answers for her, and she drew back a little, looking up at the grim expression in his eyes, the hint of whiteness about his mouth. "That man—Sam Judge—do you really believe he would have killed you, or rather Salem?"

"To get to Ashley he would have. I'd admit he did not seem the sort of man the duke would send to do the deed, but surely you're not doubting the man was no courier."

"I wish we had been able to draw him back to the house. We could have ended it. I can't help but wonder what he would have done if he hadn't met us?"

"What I would have done in his place: delivered the package into Ashley's hands, then when y'all attacked with your questions, I would have sworn on the McClellan family Bible I'd never heard of the duke of Linfield. Eventually you would have let me go, no matter what your suspicions."

Rae shivered, realizing he was right.

"Come. Let's go back to the house. I'll talk to your father and brothers after dinner."

Jericho's task of talking to the McClellan men alone was a difficult one. The men did not necessarily linger over a glass of wine in the absence of the women. Without Rae's assistance, Jericho doubted he could have managed. He admired the way she practically herded her mother and sisters into another room for an impromptu musicale. He kept the men at the dining table with a hard stare and the tiniest shake of his head. Gareth was the most difficult, since he was wont to follow his very pregnant wife everywhere.

Robert had a teasing smile for Gareth, then poured himself a glass of port and slid the decanter toward Salem. "What's this about, Smith?" It occurred to him that perhaps Jericho was going to make his intentions toward Rahab formally known. It was odd that he would do it in front of the entire family, but the idea did not displease Robert.

"It's the Duke of Linfield, sir. He's sent a warning."

Robert choked. Salem's hand remained poised over the decanter. Gareth and Noah were looking extremely thin-lipped. Only Leah's husband, Troy Lawson, did not at first understand the import of Jericho's words. He sat forward at the table, his lean face grave, and kept his counsel while listening carefully to the others.

"What sort of warning?" Salem asked sharply.

Jericho explained the events of a few hours before, and when he finished a heavy silence permeated the room.

"I once promised Ashley I would not resort to Nigel's methods, but I can see no alternative left to me," Salem said tightly. "There is only one reason he sent those letters and that is to taunt us. To let us know that when we thought Ashley safe, she was not. And now Courtney and Trenton."

"And Rahab," Jericho added with quiet force.

"And my sister," Salem went on, as if Jericho had not spoken, "who doesn't have the sense to realize the danger when she says she is my wife. We will forever be looking over our shoulders until the duke is dead. There is nothing for it but that I go to Linfield and end this."

"No." Jericho's voice joined the others, and the sharp sound brought Salem's head up. He was not used to being gainsaid.

"What do you propose?" Silence greeted his question and he smiled a trifle bitterly. "Exactly. I am willing to entertain better suggestions, but I doubt there are any."

"You cannot seriously suppose you will have access to the duke," Troy said calmly. "Once he saw you, your life would be forfeit. Robert has no more chance than you of succeeding. Gareth or Noah might have the opportunity to get near him, for they are strangers to Nigel. But they have the look of McClellans, and you say the duke is shrewd, so I think he would find them out. It is not cowardice that keeps me from volunteering my services, but simply a lack of the skill and cunning this piece of work requires." He paused, looking thoughtfully at his folded hands. "I understand from what I have heard that there is no legal recourse open to you. It appears the duke is too canny to be caught in a scheme to bring him to these shores." He glanced around and saw there was agreement from the others. "Therefore, it seems to me the reasonable thing is to employ someone who can put pressure on the duke, or, if need be, put a period to his existence."

Salem had listened carefully to Troy's analysis. There was no faulting his logic, but Salem did not want to put the fate of his enemy in the hands of another. "It would be folly to send a stranger to do what I should have done long ago. There is no one I trust to see to the matter."

"No one?" Jericho asked mildly. There was the merest hint of a smile on his lips. He looked relaxed, without the aura of tension the others projected. He had pushed his chair away from the table and his long legs were stretched in front of him, casually crossed at the ankles. His long-fingered, capable hands were folded loosely in his lap, and his clear blue eyes held the spark of some subtle purpose.

"You?" Salem was incredulous and took no pains to hide it.

"Why not?" Jericho drawled softly. "The British will not mount another offensive until spring of next year, if one comes at all. By then I will have returned. My leg is no longer a concern, and I'm unattached." Forgive me, Rae, for having said the last. "Troy mentioned skill and cunnin'. Is there anyone here who says I haven't an ample supply of both? I thought not. What say, Salem? Reckon I could hobnob with a toff like the Duke of Linfield?"

Salem could not help it. The tension that had been squeezing his chest and gut released itself in a spurt of laughter. The others soon joined, while Jericho merely grinned good-naturedly and let their nervous humor run its course. Salem wiped a tear from his eye and took a sip of his port to steady himself. "Forgive me, Smith. Your offer is generous and appreciated," he said seriously. "In so many ways you are exactly the man I could trust with a matter of such personal importance, but I fear that while you have great skill and cunning and courage as I have not witnessed in many others, the duke would identify you as a Yankee in a minute and be on his guard."

"A minute is all I need." Jericho saw his grim observation had the effect of sobering everyone.

"But you have to see him first. Years ago I was able to gain access to him through his interest in horseflesh. I doubt he would again be so accommodating to another Yankee buyer."

"You realize you're only makin' the case stronger against your goin'. I have notions about seein' the duke that are a lot less troublesome than tryin' to pretend an interest in his stud."

Guessing that Jericho had it in his mind that he would waylay the duke, Salem discouraged the idea immediately. "He does not travel without an entourage of servants who are loyal to him, Smith, and Linfield is a fortress."

Jericho chuckled. "I'm not interested in takin' him on the road. It's too dangerous. And do you think I have intentions of scalin' his damn walls when the doors are open to his friends?"

"You are not his friend," Robert pointed out.

"No. But I could be."

Robert coughed uneasily. "I'll be blunt, Jericho. The duke is much taken with his station in life. He has no interest in associating himself with someone beyond the pale. A Yankee, even if you professed a Tory's sympathies, would hardly be welcomed in his circle. Your wardrobe could easily be fixed, but your manner of speech would set you apart instantly. And in his eyes it would set you beneath him."

"Is that what's troublin' y'all? What a fuss over nothin'."

"It is hardly nothing, Jericho," Salem replied. "You could never be counted among the duke's friends. Believe me, that is not something to regret."

"But if I could?" He asked the question casually, hiding from everyone that he was in earnest.

"If you could? Then yes, God help me. I would take up your offer."

"Reckon that's what I've been waitin' to hear. If y'all will excuse me one minute, I have to fetch somethin'." He was gone less than that, and he grinned at the puzzled faces still circling the table when he shut the door behind him again. In his hands he carried two books from Robert's precious collection in the library. One was Plutarch's Lives, the other a specially bound volume of writings by Rousseau. Neither was in English, but in their original Greek and French. Jericho opened the Plutarch tome first and began to read at random, first in Greek, then translating, in impeccable English that did not leave one syllable wanting full expression. Holding up his hand to halt their excited curiosity, he did the same with the Rousseau work.

"I regret my French is not what it used to be. Rochambeau and Lafayette both found it eminently understandable, but lacking heart. You know the French; no one can speak their language as well as they can. Greek is not so difficult, but my Latin is better. My tutor was a pedant, and he had a petty scholar's love for the nominative and the dative. My command of the mother tongue is the issue here. Would the duke find something offensive with my speech?"

No one spoke for a long moment. Finally Salem said, "Smith, you sound like a pompous ass."

Jericho smiled widely. "I imagine that means ol' Nigel will attach himself to me like scum on a pond."

"Hell, yes. Who are you, Jericho Smith?"

His smile faded. "Is it important?" he asked quietly, a warning look in his eyes.

Robert spoke for everyone. "No. We know your mettle, and your past is your own affair."

"Good. Perhaps someday... but not now." He laid Rousseau and Plutarch aside. "I think it is time for us to plan our strategy. First, I must secure passage..."

* * *

Rahab thought her heart would stop beating when she heard the handle on the door to the music room twist. Her father walked in first and immediately went to the spinet. Much to Rae's surprise, he sat down beside Leah on the stool and joined in the singing in his endearingly off-key voice. No worry there she thought. Troy and Noah came in next, carrying some light refreshment to ease all the parched throats. Gareth dropped his bulk beside Darlene and inquired about her health. Ashley had her legs propped on a green velvet ottoman, and Salem nudged them aside when he sat there, leaning back against the arm of her chair and reaching for her hand. He seemed the very definition of contentment.

"I'd like to have a word with you, Rae."

Rae was startled to find Jericho standing at her back. Never would she become accustomed to his manner of sneaking up on a person. She looked around quickly and saw no one paying them any attention. His voice had been no more than a whisper in her ear. "Of course."

"A walk?" he invited.

She nodded. "I'll get my cloak." Rae caught her mother's eye and motioned she was leaving. Charity smiled serenely and never missed her turn to join the round they were singing. Rae slipped out the door, blissfully unaware of how soon her departure would alter the room's atmosphere.

Jericho helped Rae slip into her pelisse. "You'll probably want this." He handed her a rabbit fur muff and took Salem's cape from the cloakroom for himself. "I don't think he'd begrudge me this, d'you?"

Rae's smile was a little nervous. "No. He wouldn't mind."

Jericho shrugged into the heavy wool cloak, and taking Rae's elbow, escorted her to the veranda.

Without a word, they paused on the uppermost step and absorbed the sight that greeted them. It had begun to snow, soft furry flakes that captured the moon's silver light and spangled the ground before they vanished in a glittery flash. The earth sparkled as though all of heaven's stars had fallen upon it. Each melting flake had a hundred more to take its place.

It was actually warmer now than it had been a few hours before, and Rae slipped back her hood to catch the snow in her hair and feel it on her face as they walked. Automatically she started toward the summerhouse, but Jericho turned her toward the river and she did not resist.

"I had not credited you with so much patience, Rae," Jericho observed quietly, taking his fill of her glittering hair and soft profile turned skyward. He envied every flake that kissed her cheek and brushed her lips.

"I'm learning."

They walked in silence for nearly a hundred yards. Behind them the manor house glowed warmly from within, scattering its protective light for a short distance beyond the circular drive. Ahead of them lay one of the plantation's docking points and the James River. Noise was muted here by the water's unhurried flow; occasionally something jumped or moved in the trees on their left, but mostly there was a lovely blanket of quiet, a serenity Jericho and Rae were loath to break.

"I seem to remember a bench around here," Jericho said. "Care to be my guide?"

Rae led him a little farther along the path's gentle slope, then veered nearer the grove of stately pines. The bench was sheltered by a canopy of pine boughs, and a break in the trees provided them with an unobstructed view of the river. It was easy to imagine they were watching nature's play through a window at the landing.

Jericho sat beside Rae but leaned forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his fists. "I didn't expect it would be this hard, Red. To tell you, I mean." His private name for her slipped out without his being aware of it. "I've explained everything to Robert and your brothers. Do you know, Troy has a fair head on his shoulders. It's no wonder you—"

"That's long in the past and not what you want to talk about," she chided. "Or at least it's not what I want to talk about. What has been decided about the duke? Am I the only one to know? Is that why you brought me out here?" There was an end to her patience, and Rae had just reached it.

"I brought you out here because I want to tell you things I've told none of the others, not your father, not your brothers. I want to explain to you why I am the one going to Linfield."

Part of Rae's mind registered that Jericho was talking differently. The drawl was absent, and there was a certain clipped purpose to his words. But those changes only received a vague recognition, it was the content of his speech that made her hands ice in the rabbit fur muff.

"No!" It was a cry of pain as well as denial. Words slipped from her mouth before she knew what she was saying. "I knew you loved her, of course, but I had thought... oh, I don't know what I thought!"

Jericho had straightened, turning on Rae as she spoke, clearly incredulous. But she was not looking at him; her eyes were tightly closed in further refusal. He gave her shoulders a gentle shake and she pulled from him sharply. His hands dropped uselessly to his side. "What's this nonsense? Who is it I'm supposed to love?" His fingers snapped as he hit upon the gist of her thoughts. "Ashley." He said her name more loudly than he intended.

"Yes."

His voice dropped. "Is that what you really think?"

"Yes."

"I see. And if I said it was you I loved..."

"If you said it I would be hard pressed to believe you."

"Why is that?"

"Because if you loved me, you would not go to Linfield."

Jericho sighed. "I have often thought that love should not be bound by such conditions. Apparently, it is a matter on which we disagree."

"Apparently," she mocked bitterly.

"Then you are not interested in alternative explanations?"

"No. I want to hear none of it."

Jericho felt defeated. He had never thought Rae would misinterpret his going to Linfield as further proof that he loved Ashley. Perhaps there had been a time when she would have been justified in believing that, but no longer. She did not want to hear that it was she herself who had prompted his suggestion, that, and the fact that Jericho thought he was the only one among them with a chance of succeeding. Nothing less than those reasons could have made him volunteer for a journey to England that meant an ocean voyage. The thought of the trip that confronted him was sufficient to make his palms sweat, in spite of the cold.

"Rae," he tried again. "If you would but listen to me you would understand that it is—-"

"Do you imagine your reasons are important to me?" she scoffed. "Do you think it matters why you are choosing suicide when there is nothing I can do to prevent it? Is there? Is there something I can say that will keep you from going?"

"No."

"Then I trust you take my point."

In Jericho's mind there was nothing he was in danger of losing that he had already not lost. "I'll damn well take more than that, Red!"

Jericho gave Rae no chance of escaping. His arms blocked her on either side and then they closed around her, pulling her tight in a hard embrace that gave no quarter. Rae doubled her fists and pushed at his stomach, but the muff softened the blow and it had no effect other than to trap her arms between them. Her mouth opened to hurl a curse at him, but Jericho made certain no sound came out.

His mouth was hard on hers, punishing. He ground the sensitive underside of her lips against teeth that had closed sharply against his invasion. He jerked her once in his arms, tugging at her hair to lift her face. When her lips parted again his tongue swept her mouth in a savage foreplay that frightened Rae with its brutal intensity. She bit his tongue, and when he pulled back sharply she drew a deep breath, prepared to rend the air with a scream that would be heard miles away in Williamsburg.

Jericho was quicker. His head lowered and bit her lower lip.

He hadn't done it hard, it was more of a nip really, and somehow tender, given the response he could have made. Rae went very still in his arms; then Jericho's mouth touched her lips again, a nibble, this time and the gentleness kept her quiet. His mouth moved over her still unresponsive lips, tasting and teasing, denying the fierce hunger that had driven him moments earlier, that was with him even now. He touched the corner of her mouth flicking it with his tongue, and he felt a small shudder pass through her. Encouraged, he kissed her cheeks, her closed lids. His mouth slipped along the line of her slender throat and nestled in the curve of her shoulder.

"What are you doing to me?" she asked on a hushed breath as he pulled her to her feet. "What is it you want?"

His head lifted and his mouth hovered above hers. "You... only you."

His words, not his mouth, touched Rae's lips, but it felt like the sweetest kiss she had ever known. When Jericho banished the distance that separated them, Rae's lips answered the gentle probe of his mouth and savored the heady, intimate pleasure.

Rae's response lightened Jericho's heart. He was certain she would listen to him now, and perhaps if she could not agree with him, she would still promise to wait for him. That was all he really wanted, her word that she would not bind herself to another while he was gone.

"Red? I lo—" In the same moment he was wondering why she was preparing to scream, Jericho felt a great weight descend upon his head. His vision blurred, his knees buckled, and the last thing he saw was a gloved hand covering Rae's mouth so that her scream had no sound. No sound at all.

Rae fought wildly against the wiry strength of the man who held her, but she could not escape his grasp. Two men stood in front of her, impassively watching her struggle with her captor. Another bent over Jericho, satisfying himself and his companions that there would be no resistance from that quarter. The features of the men she could see were obscured by shadow.

They all wore cocked hats tipped forward on their heads. But the identity of the man who held her was never a mystery. His size, the peculiar smell of clothes long in need of washing, and a sly chuckle in her ear, warned Rae it was Sam Judge who kept her pinned flush to his body.

Kicking behind her, Rae at last landed a painful blow to his shin. Judge's hand slipped from her mouth, and because she saw it was useless to scream for Jericho, she cried out for her brothers. "Saaa—leeemm! Nooo—"

One of the men in front of her shoved a dirty, greasy rag into her mouth. Rae tried to push it out, but a scarf was tied roughly around her head to keep the gag in place. Her hair tangled painfully in the knot at the back of her head, and in short order the muff was flung aside and her hands were bound with a small length of rope.

Sam Judge still held her tightly by the waist, and when he spoke to his companions Rae felt some satisfaction that he was out of breath. "Didn't Sam Judge tell you it was them what was sittin' there as pretty as you please?"

"Aye, you did, Sam," said the man leaning over Jericho. "Heard him call her Ashley as clear as a bell, and she be yellin' for him now like she think we kilt him."

"Sure, I did. Jest the way I told you we would be fools not to do something about the papers we found aboard the Marion. Didn't Sam Judge also say that privateerin' would pay sooner or later?"

"You said that, too, Sam," one of them replied good-naturedly. "Didn't expect our fortune in quite this way, though."

"Yeah," said the third. "I never thought our bounty would be this beauty. But we still have to collect on her. Reckon that duke fellow will pay the ransom?"

Rae's eyes shot from man to man, thoroughly confused by their conversation. That they had been sent by Nigel Lynne no longer seemed clear. Privateers, they called themselves. Rae called them pirates.

"He'll pay," Sam Judge said certainly. "Wasn't he goin' to pay that limey bloke you shot to bring her to him?" He shrugged. "Why should he care who has her as long as he gets her in the end? For a fair price, too, says I. C'mon, let's get her in the skiff." One of the men grabbed Rae by her ankles while Sam slipped his arms beneath her shoulders. Rae renewed her struggle and received naught but bruises from her effort.

"What about this one?"

Sam paused, grunting low when Rae, panicking that they might kill Jericho, slammed her head backward into his chest. "Jest a moment. Drop her legs, Wendell, and help her stand."

Wendell? Rae thought giddily as she was allowed to stand. What sort of name was that for a pirate?

"Now give her a good clip," Sam Judge said, still holding her arms.

Obviously it was a fine name for a scurvy bastard, Rae decided as Wendell's fist gave her a powerful chuck on the chin.

Rae slumped in Sam's arms. "God, she's a pain in the arse. Jest like the rest of her sex. Now, about her husband. We'll take him, I think. He looks like he can pull his weight on board, and after that scuffle with the Marion an extra hand won't be amiss."

"There was nothing in that bloke's things that said anything about money for this 'un," Wendell pointed out. "And he could be a troublemaker."

"How much trouble is he goin' to cause while we got her?" Sam asked, hoisting Rae's limp form over his shoulder. "Oh, hell, I don't care, do what you want. Jest as soon kill him as look at him."

Wendell shrugged, picking up Rae's muff. "Jud. Hank. Bring him along. Sam's right about needing the extra man."

Jud and Hank lifted Jericho between them and followed the others to the skiff that was hidden a few hundred feet downstream. The snowfall was heavier now and their tracks were covered in minutes of their passing. The boat rocked as they settled in, and there was no gentle handling for Rae and certainly none for Jericho. Both of them were deposited like so much baggage between seats on the skiff as Sam pushed away from the bank.

"Take off his cloak, Jud, and give it a pitch over in them rocks. And Wendell, git yer nose out of that damn furry thing and toss it out. It'll give their parents somethin' to think about when they come up missin'. Plenty of time will be lost while they drag the river."

By the time the landing's bell and cannon sounded the alarm, calling servants and neighbors to join the search, the party of pirates and captives was well on its way to the safety of their ship.