by Connie Mason
“Captain Drummond said you were bad, Mama,” Brand said as he hugged Aimee tightly. “Why were you bad? I don’t want you to be locked in your room.”
“I wasn’t bad, Brand,” Aimee tried to explain. “I did something Captain Drummond didn’t like, and for punishment I’m being locked in my room. You can come visit me twice a day.”
“I don’t like Captain Drummond very much,” Brand pouted sullenly. “I thought he liked us.”
Aimee was at a loss for words. What could she say to a five-year-old that would explain the cruel complexities of war? Instead, she hugged him close, offering the comfort he seemed to need. But Brand wasn’t so easily appeased.
“I’m going to ask Captain Drummond to let you out.”
“I’m afraid it isn’t going to help, darling. Captain Drummond isn’t the type of man to let sentiment interfere with duty.”
“I suppose it will be all right as long as I can see you twice a day,” Brand compromised.
Aimee gulped back her tears. She had no idea how long she had before Nick shipped her north to prison. But until then she intended to make every moment with Brand count. If it actually came to separation from her son, there was an alternative, one that would virtually ensure that Brand wouldn’t suffer in her absence. She could always tell Nick that he was Brand’s father. But she would save that bit of information until the last possible moment.
Nick returned from interrogating Garson Pinder in a vile mood. The man had refused to divulge one pertinent piece of information, nor would he elaborate on his involvement with Aimee Trevor except to smile knowingly when asked if he and Aimee were lovers. Maybe intelligence could persuade the spy to talk, he reflected as he made his way slowly back to the house. He made immediate plans to send Pinder to headquarters, where they had the means and patience to break the man. In any event, Pinder would spend the rest of the war behind bars.
That line of thinking led him to Aimee and the fate that awaited her if he sent her north to prison. A shudder of revulsion passed through his body when he recalled the horror of visiting one of the facilities that housed women spies. A woman as frail and sensitive as Aimee wouldn’t survive long in the squalid conditions that existed in most of those prisons. As beautiful as Aimee was, she’d surely be raped by guards who considered women spies fair game. That terrifying notion brought him to an abrupt decision. He motioned to Lieutenant Dill that he wished to talk with him privately. Dill dropped what he was doing and followed Nick inside to the small study.
“You wished to see me, sir?”
Nick nodded grimly. “Prepare the prisoner for transportation to headquarters. I’ll leave first thing in the morning with a squad of six men. I want you to remain at Tall Oaks and see that our other prisoner remains safely behind locked doors.”
Dill was stunned. “You’re not taking Mrs. Trevor to headquarters along with the other spy?”
“I—no, she’ll remain at Tall Oaks under supervision.”
“Do you think that’s wise, Captain? What will headquarters say about withholding a prisoner?”
“Have you ever seen the inside of a prison, Lieutenant? How long do you think a woman like Mrs. Trevor would last in that kind of squalor and misery? Not long, I’d wager. I’m certain this is Mrs. Trevor’s first offense, and I fully intend to argue the case against sending her to prison. I’m convinced she’ll be no danger to the Union now that her contact has been apprehended. What would it serve to separate her from her son at this point in the war? The South is all but defeated. I may be a bastard, but I’m not totally without compassion. No, Lieutenant, if I have anything to say about it, Aimee Trevor will remain under house arrest, under my jurisdiction, until such a time that I’m ordered elsewhere. By then, command will have forgotten about her.”
Dill did not question Nick’s judgment, but he did wonder at his motives. He knew Nick had strong feelings for Aimee, but he assumed those feelings had died a natural death when Aimee was caught spying. He suspected that intimacy was involved somewhere along the line, which would explain Nick’s wounded pride, but he could prove nothing.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Dill observed before he left Nick sitting deep in contemplation. “You know headquarters might decide against your request. They hold little sympathy for spies.” Having said his piece, he quietly departed.
Somehow Nick managed to get through the day, his mind consumed with thoughts of Aimee, how ardently she responded to his touch, how wonderfully alive she became in his arms, how easily she had beguiled him—how eagerly she had used him and lied to him. She didn’t want him. All she’d wanted was the classified information headquarters had sent him. It rankled him to realize how far she was willing to go for those dispatches.
Supper was a dismal affair. Savannah’s reproachful looks were enough to turn the food to sawdust in Nick’s mouth. Brand was sullen and uncommunicative. Restricted to her room, Aimee was eating in solitude. It was too much. Abruptly he leaped to his feet, knocking the chair over in his haste, and strode from the room.
Aimee stared at her food, unable to swallow a bite. She wanted to know what Nick had decided to do with her. She needed to learn how long it would be before she was separated from her son. She wanted to see Nick but was too proud to ask. Then she heard the solid thread of his footsteps on the stairs and grew tense. Would he stop and let her know what her fate was to be or would he ignore her? She listened intently as his footsteps slowed when they reached her door. She held her breath, then let it out when he continued on. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or vexed. Then her breath stopped when she heard him halt and return. The key scraped in the lock and the door flung open. Nick stood in the doorway, his face set in grim lines, shoulders squared, big, powerful, menacing. So handsome he took her breath away. She winced when he slammed the door behind him.
“I hope your solitude has been productive. You’ve had plenty of time to contemplate your crime.”
“It’s the punishment I’ve been thinking about.” Her expression was guarded. “Have you come to tell me when I’m to be sent to prison?”
“I haven’t decided,” Nick said sourly. She didn’t sound the least bit contrite. Why should she? She was a true defender of the South.
“Why have you come?”
“Damned if I know.”
“What have you done to Gar?”
“Nothing that he didn’t deserve. Your lover is a spy; he’ll be dealt with accordingly.”
“Are you going to torture me, too?”
Nick flushed, enraged that Aimee would think he’d stoop to torture. “Perhaps, if that’s what you’re expecting.”
“I always expect the worst from you.”
Nick sent her an oblique look. “It’s taken me all day to calm down enough to speak with you without wringing your beautiful little neck. You certainly have a way of destroying a man’s ego, Mrs. Trevor. You must have had a lot of practice at seduction, for I could have sworn there was something special between us.”
Aimee lowered her eyes. Oh, yes, Nick Drummond, she thought. There was indeed something special between us. You demanded my soul, and I gladly, happily, ecstatically, surrendered it to you. With a note of constraint in her voice, she said, “You’re much too fanciful, Captain. I did only what was necessary, and I’m not sorry. I’d do it again if it helped the Confederacy.”
“I’m sorry for you, Aimee Trevor,” Nick said, “but it’s Brand who truly has my sympathy. You should have thought of him before spying for a Confederacy that is all but defeated.”
“Damn you, Nick Drummond, for being a heartless Yankee blue-belly!”
Consumed by anger and frustration, she flew at him, sobbing and pounding his chest with small fists, cursing the day he had arrived at Tall Oaks, cursing their first meeting five years ago. Against his better judgment, Nick’s arms closed around her, holding her close while she poured out her rage and frustration. For a brief moment he wanted to lift her chin, smother her lips with his,
feel her passion build as he claimed her body in the most basic way. But in the nick of time he remembered how she had lied to him, used him, betrayed him, and he shoved her away, fighting the lust that shuddered through him.
Aimee gasped in dismay as Nick flung her away from him, leaving the room in angry strides. She hadn’t even realized she had been clinging to him with almost frantic desperation, or seeking comfort where none was forthcoming. For one blissful moment she felt so secure in his arms,” she never wanted to leave them. The comforting warmth of his big body made her forget that Nick Drummond was the man responsible for some of the most traumatic moments in her life. A man she had vowed to hate.
The following morning Aimee watched from the window as Garson Pinder was loaded in a wagon and taken from Tall Oaks. Nick and a small group of mounted soldiers served as escorts. She supposed Gar was being taken to prison, and wondered why she had been left behind. She knew it wasn’t because he felt sympathy for her, for there wasn’t a sympathetic bone in Nick Drummond’s rather impressive body. And since she was still under lock and key, she suspected that he had no intention of freeing her. Just what exactly did he have in mind for her?
Nick was gone for a week. Lieutenant Dill was left in charge of Tall Oaks, and his orders differed little from his superior’s as far as Aimee was concerned. Her meals were brought to her three times a day. Brand was allowed to visit morning and evening, and she wasn’t mistreated in any way. She was even allowed to bathe in the big brass tub upon request. Sergeant Jones was usually the one who carried in the tub and filled it with hot water. When she asked to see Savannah her request was denied. But Savannah was a resourceful woman and Aimee prayed her companion would find a way to bend the rules.
Nick reached headquarters with his prisoner and turned him over immediately to intelligence. Then he reported to Colonel Brooks, his superior. Brooks sat back in his chair while Nick explained the circumstances leading to Garson Pinder’s apprehension.
“Good work, Captain,” Brooks said. “We’ve been after this man for a long time. You say there was a woman involved? Where is she?”
“Yes, sir,” Nick replied, his tension mounting. What if Brooks denied his request? “She’s under house arrest at Tall Oaks.”
Brooks’s shaggy eyebrows rose askance. “Why haven’t you brought her here for questioning along with Pinder?”
“I didn’t think it would serve any purpose,” Nick explained. “Mrs. Trevor is a widow and mother of a young son. I’m convinced this is her first offense, and I’ll personally vouch for her if you’ll allow her to remain under my custody for the duration of the war. I—I knew Mrs. Trevor before the war, Colonel, and I feel prison is too harsh a punishment for her.”
Brooks gave Nick a severe look. “You say you knew her before the war? Fraternization is frowned upon, Captain Drummond. Are you and the lady intimately involved?”
“I hope you won’t insist I answer that question, Colonel. Suffice it to say that my relationship with Mrs. Trevor, whether intimate or not, has no bearing on my duty. I wouldn’t recommend sending any woman to prison given the same set of circumstances. I don’t believe she is a danger to the Union. Her lo—Garson Pinder coaxed her into spying, and I personally guarantee she’ll not be afforded another opportunity to do so again. It’s her young son I’m concerned about. The lad is only four years old, and he lost his father early in the war.”
“Hmmm,” Brooks mused, drumming his fingers on the desk. “You plead quite eloquently for the lady’s life. You’re right about prison, though; it’s a vile place for a lady.” Fortunately Brooks was a compassionate man with a family of his own. “And you say there is a small child involved?”
Nick nodded. “I doubt Brand would survive without his mother to see to his welfare. They were both near starvation when I showed up at Tall Oaks.”
“Very well, Captain, you’ve convinced me. But I’ll expect you to make damn certain this woman never spies again. Your career is at stake in this one. You’re right about the war nearing its conclusion, and Sherman’s sweep through Georgia is the beginning of the end of the Confederacy. I’m convinced that only months remain till the ultimate defeat of the Rebels.”
“You have my word, sir; Mrs. Trevor will cause no further trouble.”
Nick arrived back at Tall Oaks in a bleak mood. He had won Aimee’s freedom from a northern prison, but by so doing, had condemned himself to being her keeper. By rights he should despise her for the calculated way she had seduced him, but deep down inside the hidden chambers of his heart, an emotion that had nothing to do with hatred took root and refused to die. He recalled the sweetness of her kisses, the heat of her body, the incredible passion she was capable of. Lord help him!
Nick received a tepid welcome from Brand when he returned to Tall Oaks. Obviously the lad blamed Nick for keeping his mother locked in her room. Savannah said little, though her accusing eyes spoke volumes. Nick motioned Dill to accompany him into the study.
“Any problems, Lieutenant?” he asked crisply.
“No, sir,” Dill responded. “Everything went smoothly. What about you? Did you turn in the prisoner?”
“He’s in good hands. Let’s hope by now intelligence has gleaned some information from him.”
“And—er—the lady, sir? What about Mrs. Trevor?”
“She’s been released into my custody. Colonel Brooks agrees with me that no purpose would be served by imprisoning her this late in the war.”
“Is she to be kept under lock and key?”
“For the time being.”
“She’s barely eating enough to keep a bird alive. Why not give her the run of the house?”
“I’ll consider it when the time is right.”
Aimee knew Nick was back when she heard his deep voice echoing through the hallway. She wished he would come and tell her what was to become of her. Did he derive some perverse pleasure from deliberately keeping her in the dark about her fate? Later that night she heard him pass her room, pause briefly, then hurry on by. Damnable provoking Yankee!
Aimee lay on the bed, but her eyes refused to close. Sleep eluded her most nights, due to her intolerable position as Nick’s prisoner. The house was quiet. Presumably everyone was sleeping. Suddenly Aimee became aware of a strange sound at her door and flipped over on her side. With a sense of foreboding she watched the door slide open on noiseless hinges—then she recognized the slightly stooped figure of Savannah.
“Savannah, how—”
“Shhh, honey, you know I’d find a way to see you. Are you all right? Dem Yankees ain’t hurt you, have dey?” She pushed the door shut, but in her haste, it failed to latch properly.
“Oh, Savannah, how glad I am to see you!” Aimee cried, flinging her arms around the older woman’s bent shoulders. “How did you get in? Does Captain Drummond know you’re here?”
“One question at a time, honey. I found another set of keys. I knew dey were around here somewheres, and it took me a while to find dem. I reckon Captain Drummond would have my hide if he knew I was here.”
“Tell me what’s going on, Savannah. Has anyone mentioned what’s to become of me?”
Savannah shook her head sadly. “I ain’t heard a word. But somehow I don’t think de captain wants to send you to prison. If he did, he would have taken you away with Mr. Garson. Why did you do it, honey? I done tole you not to interfere.”
They spoke together quietly for a spell, unaware that Nick, alerted by a sixth sense, was awake. Something compelled him to walk out into the hall and pause outside Aimee’s door. The soft murmur of voices captured his undivided attention. A spurt of anger shot through Nick when he noticed the door wasn’t completely latched, and he eased it open a tiny bit, wondering how Aimee’s visitor had obtained entrance when the key rested in the pocket of the pants he now wore.
“Dere’s somethin’ between you and Captain Drummond, ain’t there?” Nick heard Savannah ask Aimee.
“You’re imagining things,” Aimee scoffed
softly.
“I’ve been doin’ a heap of thinkin’ lately, ’bout Brand’s papa, and lots of things are fallin’ into place.”
Aimee froze. If Savannah had figured out the identity of Brand’s real father, sooner or later so would Nick.
“What exactly is falling into place, Savannah?” Nick demanded.
Savannah started violently.
Aimee groaned in dismay.
Nick walked boldly into the room and lit a lamp.
“Well, Savannah, do you want to tell me about this great discovery you have just made?”
“No, sir,” Savannah gulped, shaking her head. “I don’t reckon I do.”
“Then perhaps you can explain how you got in here.”
Silence.
“Savannah!”
“I found another key. It ain’t right dat you should keep Aimee locked up like an animal. She’s only one small woman amongst all you Yankees. Look at her, Captain. She looks right peaked to me. And Brand is so upset, he cries himself to sleep every night.”
“That’s enough, Savannah; you can leave now.” His expression was so grim, Savannah feared for Aimee’s life.
“Don’t you dare hurt dat poor chile!” Savannah threatened, refusing to budge. “She’s already suffered more dan a woman should oughta.”
Nick’s tone softened. “Don’t worry, Savannah, I’m not going to harm Aimee. Go on to bed; we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
Her head held high in defiance, Savannah reluctantly left the room. Nick closed the door behind her and turned to face Aimee.
The nightgown she wore was no more than a veil covering the creamy contours of her body. Unconsciously his eyes settled on her breasts, and Aimee could feel her nipples distend, the small buds pushing wantonly against the cloth. Her arms flew over her chest in a purely protective motion. Nick grinned knowingly. With lamplight dancing over his face, his devil’s eyes glowed with unholy green fire.
“Don’t act coy with me, Aimee.” His voice was dangerously quiet. “We both know you’re no angel. I imagine Pinder is spilling his guts about you right now. How sad that your lover didn’t consider the consequences to your child when he involved you in spying.”
