Sweet Release (30 page)

Suddenly his feet refused to move. “Why must I leave?” he asked, lifting her chin with a finger.

She was trembling. “Geoffrey has plotted with some of the other young men to frame you—for rape, I think.”

“I will not run like a coward.”

“Please, Alec, ride at once! I could not bear to see you harmed!”

For a moment he did not fully comprehend what she’d said.

Then it came to him: She’d called him by his real name. She’d called him Alec. “Very well,” he said after a moment, aware he must be smiling like an idiot. “For your sake, mistress.”

“Follow the road south,” she said, pointing. “Stay to the right and you’ll be home in about an hour.”

“I remember the way.”

“If riders approach, hide in the forest.”

“Quit fretting. Go back inside before someone notices your absence.”

“Then you’ll leave this place?”

“I promise. As soon I see you’ve gotten indoors safely, I’ll mount and ride out fast as the wind.” He took her hand and touched it to his lips. “Say it again.”

“Say what?”

“My name.”

For a moment she looked confused; then a smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “I called you Alec.”

“Aye. Do it again.”

“Good night, and godspeed, Alec.”

Elly paced nervously from one side of the library to the other, the eyes in the portraits that hung on the walls seeming to follow her as she walked. Her skin prickled. Candlelight flickered over the gilded bindings of books and off the backs of chairs, creating eerie shadows in the corners. He’d said he’d meet her here when the clock struck nine, but that was twenty minutes ago, or so she reckoned. What was keeping him?

She had no idea what Geoffrey might want to tell her. Her stomach twisted nervously every time she thought about it. She looked about the room for something to use as a looking glass, but found nothing. She’d done her best to look pretty, even taking a bit of Miss Cassie’s rouge. Miss Cassie would never notice. Still, there was nothing Elly could do about her gown, an old blue thing she’d been given when she’d arrived.

She glanced up at the portraits again. Could she be imagining their glares? Quickly she looked away, her heart pounding. No matter where she stood, the eyes stared at her, the faces distorted by candlelight into beastly shapes. She had to get out of here. She ran toward the door, only to see its handle begin to turn. She started to scream, but a man’s hand was clamped over her mouth.

It was Geoffrey at last.

“Why are you so frightened?” He was smiling.

“The eyes,” she said, weak with relief, pointing toward the portraits.

“I don’t like this room.”

“Neither do I. Let’s go somewhere else, shall we?” Geoffrey looked out into the hallway to be certain no one was watching, then took her by the hand and pulled her after him through the corridor and down the back staircase.

“Where?”

“Shhh! You’ll see, my love.”

At the bottom of the stairs he stopped and peeked around the corner to be certain the path was clear, then pulled her into a room directly across the hall. It was a bedchamber.

She should not be here with him. This was not proper. “Geoffrey, I don’t—“

“Elly, dear—Helena—please forgive me, but my room was the only place I could think of where we could have a few moments alone. I’ve brought us some of my father’s finest Madeira. Have you ever tasted a good Madeira?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t even sure what it was. “Then, my love, you must taste. You needn’t worry. I would never do anything to tarnish your reputation. Surely you know that?”

She fought to still the inner voice that told her to flee. Geoffrey was a gentleman, after all. She could trust him.

“Besides, we shall be betrothed soon enough. Then it will be within my power to silence any wagging tongues.”

“Geoffrey?” What had he said?

“Haven’t I made my intentions clear, Elly, darling? Forgive me. I mean for us to be together,” he said, pouring amber liquid into a small glass and handing it to her. “It will take some time to procure my father’s permission, of course, but he is not an unreasonable man. On the day he gives us his blessing, I shall purchase your indenture and bring you here to be mistress of Crichton Hall.”

“Oh, Geoffrey, yes!” She could scarcely believe her ears.

“Then let us toast our future. To happiness,” he said, lifting his glass and tossing the contents down his throat in one swallow.

“To happiness,” she repeated, her emotions reeling. She put the glass to her lips and took a small sip. The liquid was sweet, but it burned her throat as she swallowed.

“No, no. Not like that, my dear. You can’t drink to our future with a mere sip. You must swallow it all, as I did.”

Elly looked at the contents of her glass, raised it to her lips again, and swallowed it in one gulp. She could not repress a shudder as it seared a path into her belly. Before she could put the glass down, Geoffrey refilled it.

“To your beauty.” He refilled his own.

The second glass didn’t burn quite as much as the first. By the third and fourth, Elly was quite convinced this drink, whatever it was called, was really quite pleasing. She felt warm all over. “You are quite lovely, Elly.” He stroked her cheek.

“You really think so?”

“Aye.” He lifted her chin and kissed her.

She wrapped her arms around him and leaned against him for support, her legs feeling rather unsteady.

“Come, Elly,” he said, guiding her across the room, one arm about her waist. “The wine seems to have made you a bit tipsy.”

“Wine? I thought it was Mad . . . Madeira.”

“Madeira is wine, silly girl.”

She heard herself giggle and felt herself being lowered onto something soft. How thoughtful of Geoffrey to realize she was sleepy. She could scarcely keep her eyes open. She felt him lie down beside her, felt his fingers stroke her cheek. “That tickles.” She snuggled against him.

His fingers traced a line to her neck and into her hair. “Yes, indeed, Elly, you are a beauty.”

Then his lips found her throat. Elly felt him wrestle with the laces of her dress. Through a fog she realized what he was doing. “No, Geoffrey.” She struggled to push him away. “We cannot.”

“Why not?” He captured her hands in one of his and kissed her throat.

“We’re not yet married.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Aye, but—”

“Then relax and enjoy it.” By then his fingers had found her breasts and were stroking her nipples. Then Geoffrey lifted her skirts to her waist and sought out the folds of her sex with his hand.

Oh, Zach, yes.

“Ah, yes, Elly. You want me as much as I want you.”

But the voice was Geoffrey’s.

She felt him lift her thighs and part them. Some part of her screamed out that she should make him stop. But she could not move, could not summon the right words.

Then she felt a piercing fullness and heard herself cry out. “Shhh, darling. It will get better.” Geoffrey settled his weight between her thighs.

But it didn’t. Each thrust brought sharp pain. Elly bit her bottom lip and forced herself to lie still. She hadn’t meant for this to happen, but she wanted to please him. His body drove into hers again and again. Then he groaned deeply and sagged limply against her, breathing heavily.

“Don’t worry, love,” he said after a moment, pulling himself from her and rising to pull up his breeches. “I’m told it only hurts the first time. Now I must get you back to your mistress’s rooms so I can get back to my guests. I’ve got some unfinished business to attend to.”

Before she realized it Elly found herself staring at the walls in Miss Cassie’s bedchamber, Geoffrey having vanished without so much as a kiss. Her head throbbed, and she felt sore between her thighs. Geoffrey was going to marry her. He had just made love to her. It was a dream come true.

Why did she feel so miserable and alone?

***

Cassie glanced over the shoulder of her dance partner toward the clock in the hallway as he twirled her in that direction. Alec was surely home by now, wasn’t he? Another twirl and she was facing the other direction, a wall of gilded mirrors reflecting a churning sea of powdered wigs and brightly colored silks.

Alec Kenleigh. She repeated the name silently, savoring the feel of it. At first she hadn’t realized she’d used his real name. It had surprised her, even frightened her.

As Cole Braden he was a man who shared her way of life, who worked with his hands in the sun all day, a man she had come to love. For love him she did, God save her. There was no way to deny that now.

But as Alec Kenleigh he was a wealthy gentleman, a man from another world who would soon be leaving.

Had he gotten away in time?

“Oh!” She gasped, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.” She’d been so lost in her thoughts she’d tripped over Benjamin Harrison’s feet, nearly colliding with his partner.

“Are you feeling well, Cassie?” Charles Braxton asked, his brow furrowed with concern, his arms reaching out to steady her. “Mary told me about your terrible accident.”

A kind, well-spoken young man only a few years older than she, he’d danced with her once already this evening. Handsome, with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and patrician features, he was precisely the kind of man she’d hoped to marry—before Alec had arrived.

“I’m sorry, Charles. I fear I’m a bit dizzy.” She tried to ignore the pricking of her conscience. Charles did not deserve this. He had never treated her with anything less than courtesy, yet Cassie had been so distracted she had all but ignored him. Now she had fibbed to him, as well.

“Come. Let me fetch you something cool to drink.” He guided her across the crowded floor to a vacant chair, one arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

“Thank you, Charles. You’re quite kind.”

With a bow he disappeared, wending his way toward the other side of the room, where bowls of lemonade and cider, as well as cakes and candied fruits, awaited guests. Tapping her foot distractedly to the music, Cassie watched the dancers whirl and curtsy, weave and bow.

Geoffrey was not among them. He’d disappeared just after she’d warned Alec. She hadn’t seen him since. Where was he? Had he seen her with Alec in the garden and gone to ambush him as he rode home?

“Here you are, Cassie.” Charles handed her a glass brimming with fresh lemonade.

“Thank you.” She gave him her warmest smile.

For a moment they sat in awkward silence.

“How is your father’s tobacco crop this season?” He cleared his throat nervously.

“The rains have been good, and, barring disaster, it will be the best in many years.” Cassie searched the crowd for Geoffrey.

“How many acres did he plant?” Charles shook his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry. You must think me dull to ask such questions.

Womenfolk find these things tedious, I know.”

“Quite the contrary, Charles. My father and I discuss the details of planting every day, when he’s home. I find it most interesting. It is how we colonists survive, after all.”

“You are a most unusual woman.” He smiled.

It was the way he smiled that gave Cassie pause. Was he becoming infatuated with her? Several months ago she would have welcomed his interest. But now?

“Not all that unusual, I assure you, Charles. I’m as fascinated by silk and frippery as the next woman.”

“Pardon me, Catherine, but we must speak at once.” Geoffrey appeared from nowhere and took her by the arm, a look of smug satisfaction on his face.

Cassie’s heart began to thud sickeningly against her breast. Had she warned Alec too late? Had he been caught? Did he, perhaps, lie injured—worse yet, dead—along the road or somewhere in the forest?

“What is it, Geoffrey?” Sick with dread, she followed him into the hallway, where several of the younger men stood waiting, excitement written plainly on their faces. These were the few who’d agreed to help him entrap Alec, no doubt, and Cassie hated them, each and every one.

“It seems the convict has taken Aldebaran and vanished,” Geoffrey said.

For a moment she was so overcome with relief she could scarcely speak. He was safe! Alec was safe!

“What’s this?” bellowed the senior Master Crichton, who had come up behind her in the company of King Carter.

“The convict has vanished, Father, the stallion with him.” Geoffrey flicked the lace at his wrists. “We’ve organized several search parties. With the hounds on his scent, he’ll not go far.”

Knees shaking, Cassie willed herself to stand and look Geoffrey in the eye. “You’d like to hunt him like an animal, wouldn’t you, Geoffrey? Fortunately you won’t have that pleasure. I sent him back to Blakewell’s Neck hours ago.”

The shocked look on Geoffrey’s face was almost enough to make Cassie laugh.

“It seems that several young hotheads had planned to do him harm here tonight. To frame him for rape was the plan, wasn’t it, Geoffrey, my boy?” King Carter said. “Landon told me all about it. I was going to intervene if it came down to it, but I see Miss Blakewell has already done what was necessary.”