She painstakingly helped him refine his speech and soften his tone. "We're remarkably lucky your voices are almost identical. We've been so lucky. Even your handwriting is similar to Marshall's."
And so it went, very easily. Russell saw to it that Aaron had a considerable new wardrobe, all fit for a gentleman like Marshall, all perfectly tailored, and he was groomed to look precisely like his brother.
"Jason, whatever happened to that wonderful young man to make him so bitter?" Kathleen Russell asked her husband when Aaron went out late one night to ride, his lessons well learned, his body craving exercise.
"What do you mean, you probably know as much about him as I do."
"Perhaps more. There's a melancholy in his nature...."
"Now, Kathleen, don't be sentimental. I'm sure it's hard on you. You knew him as a child and now he's training for a rather perilous mission. But if a war comes, there will be a good many of us in danger."
"I suppose―but there's a bitterness in Aaron that endangers him over and above his mission."
"His bitterness only increases his chances for success and for survival. He relishes the idea of destroying this conspiracy and bringing Simon down. I'll admit I've rarely seen such hatred in a man and not seen it destroy him. Let's hope Aaron can make use of hate, and not let it use him." He sighed thoughtfully. "I rather like Aaron, myself."
"You don't think he murdered those people in London, do you?" Kathleen pursued.
"He's never said. But his friend tells it that Aaron was accused wrongly of the girl's murder. That he killed the man to avenge her."
"Well, then, that's better," she said, satisfied she was right about Aaron. And she began to pray earnestly for his success in this mission and for an end to his sadness. To her regret, Kathleen Russell had no children and she wondered about Anna Sutton, Aaron's mother, whom as a friend of Emma Hudson, Kathleen knew quite well. Some years ago, Kathleen had learned of Anna's distress at losing all contact with her son, and, according to Emma, when the news that he had jumped ship reached her Anna never again mentioned Andrew's name. Kathleen wondered what it would do to her to lose a son that way, and she wished she could tell the woman her son was safe for now, at least.
And Aaron felt safe. He was confident of his disguise. His appearance mirrored his brother's, and thanks to Kathleen Russell, he surely would pass most tests. He even had occasions to observe Marshall at close hand. On one occasion, the Russells thoughtfully arranged a small summer evening dinner on their terrace, inviting the Carsons, the Hudsons, and Louisa who was living under their roof since Justin's death. Through opened French windows in a darkened room above them, Aaron had watched the affair. As often all he could take his eyes from Louisa, he observed Marshall who was carefully occupied by either Mr. or Mrs. Russell, or by his fiancée, Janna Carson. Neither young woman seemed terribly tense in the presence of the other, possibly because their fates were seemingly so certain and, perhaps, because the liquor flowed so freely.
During the evening, Aaron noted Louisa's lingering but moody observation of Marshall, sensing her longing for him. He watched intently as she remained distant in her exchanges with him, almost aloof. And he wondered at the copious quantities of champagne she drank. Aaron was nearly blinded by her. To him, she sparkled and shone, seeming gay and self-assured, and exquisite. He found himself stirred by her, cursing the barriers that now separated them. Why did she seem always to be out of his reach? Before he could not approach her because of his position as an outlaw, and because of her involvement with Marshall, and now that she could not have Marshall and was free, he still could not go to her.
Again, Louisa obsessed him, and often when he went riding late at night, he would enter the Hudson property. He had learned from Russell which room in the house was hers, and he'd seen her many times on the balcony. He drew Russell out on the subject of Louisa, learning about her distant, almost distracted manner, her consumption of alcohol, her increasingly fragile, ethereal appearance. He grew concerned when he heard of her erratic shifts of mood. He heard she careened from inappropriate, seemingly unshakable calm to periods of great agitation with spells of depression, returning to haunted dreams' and apprehensionfilled days.
Aaron found himself plotting and planning an encounter with her, wondering if she, of all people, would recognize him. And yet he knew that was not the only reason he wished to confront her. He knew he was willing to risk anything to hold her in his arms.
His chance came unexpectedly, as, he realized, many of the other events of this charade would. A furious downpour trapped the Hudsons and Marshall and Louisa for the night at Russells'. The roads were awash and impassable from the storm, and the condition of the guests made them unwilling to depart, even if the weather had permitted.
The evening had been a lavish celebration of Jason and Simon's mutual acquisition of certain land titles. It marked the first of perhaps many new ventures the men were considering. At dinner each course was accompanied with the appropriate wine or liqueur, and by the end of the evening, everyone was languishing in a state of drowsy contentment. But Louisa had, as she now frequently did, indulged even more heavily than the others in the beverages, consuming little solid food, and she was very inebriated and moodier than usual.
Emma Hudson looked at the beautiful young woman, sad to see her slipping in the same direction her mother had, many years ago. At the same time, she was relieved to know that Marshall had chosen to sever himself from her, and even more relieved that Louisa was leaving within the next several weeks to settle far from temptation's reach―she hoped. Emma conveniently failed to connect the increase in Louisa's consumption of alcohol with the arrangements the two young people had suddenly made. Oversight had now become a way of life for her. She chose to believe Justin's death and the fire were responsible for Louisa's unstable behavior.
Louisa retired early, escorted to her room on the third floor by Mrs. Russell. In deciding sleeping arrangements, Jason thoughtfully made Marshall's access to Louisa nearly impossible, but Aaron's quite easy. If Kathleen knew her husband's understanding of Aaron's need to put his new identity to the extreme test, she gave no hint as she assisted Louisa up the stairs, the young woman unsteady, weaving slightly, seeming quite giddy.
Kathleen Russell had also watched Louisa follow in Claudia Boyd's footsteps, but unlike Emma, she knew the reasons Louisa sought solace the way she did―all of her reasons―and she connected none of them to heredity, but to her need to escape all too painful reality. She, too, had watched Louisa regress from a forward-looking, happy young woman to the withdrawn child everyone remembered from years ago. Kathleen connected the haunting dreams she'd learned Louisa had these days, not so much to the effects of alcohol, but to the effects of fires from the distant and recent past, to the love that was either perverted or inaccessible. She knew Emma condemned Louisa, though Emma never said so out loud, yet Kathleen wondered if anyone would condemn Louisa to live solely in reality if they knew what her real world was like.
Louisa's room was available to Aaron by an interior connecting room which was not visible from the street or from the landing. The only access to the outside from this private room was a skylight from the roof. This concealed place had provided Aaron comfortable, but private quarters, once his cooperation was certain. Earlier, Louisa's room also provided Aaron the opportunity to watch events in the garden below, and, if necessary, to descend the servants' stairway in order to gain access to other parts of the house.
When the decision was made for the party to stay over, Aaron had gone to his room, dressing in perfect imitation of Marshall, then waited impatiently for Louisa to settle down. In spite of her hazy condition, she was quite restless, and called for a bath to be prepared against the oppressive heat. Asking the maid not to disturb her again, she sank into the soothing water, her hair pinned carelessly against her head. The tensions of the past weeks, the ghosts who followed her no matter how hard she tried to drown them and herself, the pain of the immediate f
uture were telling in Louisa's limbs, and she sighed deeply as she tried to relax. She closed her eyes, drifting silently among her fantasies, her tears washing her face, spilling into the already overflowing water. "Marshall, Marshall," she murmured in the warm, stifling night.
"What is it, Louisa," the voice answered, and she sat up from her bath, sincerely frightened by what she heard. She peered into the shadows, and shivered when she saw him as he moved into the dim light.
"Oh, I didn't hear you come in!" she cried, her heart pounding.
Aaron had watched her silently from the shadowfilled room, stirred by her beautiful body. "I'm not surprised," he said, going to the door to bolt it.
"I didn't expect to see you tonight."
"Where there's a will ..."
"There's a way," she said, completing the phrase, laughing. "Oh, but where's our way to stop the future they've planned for us?" she sighed, slipping again into the soothing water. She closed her eyes tightly. "You'd think I'd have drunk enough by now to be oblivious to the bargains we've struck, but it doesn't seem to make me care any less." She sat up again. "Marshall, how can I live without you, how can we do what we've promised?"
Louisa began to cry tears of torment. "I want to die! I can't take any more!" Her tears flowed as torrentially as the rain outside the house.
Quickly Aaron took her towel from the bed and went to her. Taking her hand to help her rise, he folded the soft fabric around her slim body, lifted her from the tub, and carried her to the turned-down bed. He held her, trying to shelter her in an almost instinctively familiar way, calling her name as he had many times in the past. He unpinned her hair and toweled her gently, stopping to caress her breasts with his fingers, to admire the soft satin feel of her skin. He groaned softly as his desire for her intensified, forcing himself to control the wild urge he felt to take her without further delay, yet smiling in his agony, knowing how different their lives had been, how accustomed she must be to sweet slow seduction. As he kissed and caressed her, she knew his need for her, and reached out to touch him, to caress him, to help him undress.
Aaron knew he could not expose his chest because his scarred shoulder would instantly give him away, so when she began to undo the buttons of his shirt, he took her hands in his and kissed them, returning them to his body to stroke him nearly beyond endurance. He found he could not control himself when he slipped into her surging warmth, but she was ready to receive him and their voices joined their bodies to sound their joy.
Immediately Aaron wanted to pursue her again, to taste her warmth, consume her, fill himself until he could take no more, but he was reluctant, fearing the intensity of his hunger for her might alert her, even in her nearly irrational state, and expose him. She seemed desperately in need of his comfort, telling him how grateful she was that he had found a way to come to her. The sweetness and depth of her response both excited and depressed him, for she had called another man's name in her ecstasy, and he knew it would never be different. He feared he could never reveal himself to her, even if, as he hoped, they came together in the intrigue that lay before him.
He became silent and withdrew into his thoughts as they lay together quietly, and Louisa responded, holding him as if she were afraid their final separation would begin the moment he left her embrace. She pressed more closely against him at each shifting of his body, and she stroked and kissed him while they nestled closely.
She laughed softly at him. ''You were so eager you didn't even get your shirt off," and she began to unfasten the remaining buttons when she touched a heavy gold chain which was concealed underneath. "What's this?" she asked, curiously lifting the unusually thick chain from inside his shirt. Aaron held his breath, furious with himself for the loneliness and sentiment which caused him to wear these mementoes of Juliet. Louisa fingered the delicate locket and slender ring, lifting the chain over Aaron's head. "A gift for me, Marshall? Or, a souvenir from Janna Carson?" she said with open jealousy in her voice.
"A gift for you, Louisa," he said, taking the chain from her hands, placing it around her neck. He raised the locket and ring to his lips, and then arranged them between her breasts, moving his mouth to her body, at once shifting her attention to the sensations he stirred within her.
He had endangered himself by careless sentiment, and it raised his anger and lured him to risk more with her. Louisa's mood was now edged with petulance and she responded to his ferocity with a fierceness of her own, arousing feelings which were new and exciting to her. "We may never love each other again, but you will never forget me," she promised.
"I will never forget you, Louisa. Never." And he touched and pressured her until she begged for satisfaction from his body, but instead he took pleasure of her with his tongue as her own pleasure transcended' what she believed possible. But he was not finished, and he explored sensations with her she had never known, leading her slowly, gently, persuasively, easing her reluctance when she hesitated. "I won't hurt you. We'll stop whenever you want," he promised, and she surrendered to him willingly.
Aaron caressed her thighs and buttocks, slowly, gently penetrating her with his fingers, anointing her with the excess of her own sweet fluid that seemed to flow without cessation, entering her only when she was ready to accept him. Then he took her hand in his and led her fingers with his inside of her to the softness and vibrations they felt intensify until they both lost control and escaped together into ecstasy.
When they were overwhelmed and still again, Louisa was very silent, drawing Aaron's arms around her for comfort. He settled against her, savoring her sweetness, longing for her even in his exhaustion, knowing it would be months if not a lifetime before he held her again. "Why did you take me that way, Marshall?" she whispered.
"I want to know every part of your beautiful body, every sensation of touching you. We'll soon have only memories to live on," which was as true for him as it was for Marshall, wondering over Marshall's decision, whatever the cost, to separate himself from Louisa. He pushed the mass of her hair from the back of her neck and began to kiss her again, sending delicious shivers along her back and into her limbs. Soon she was writhing and crying out whenever his lips touched her. Suddenly she turned to face him, fiercely seeking his mouth and his body with her own. Aaron matched her intensity and they fed one another until there was nothing left to feast on, and at last no more hunger.
And they cried together in their joy and in their separate sorrow: she, for what she was about to lose forever; he, for what he never had.
Then they slept peacefully for several hours, entwined in each other's arms and in their dreams. In the early morning, Aaron woke and prepared to leave her, finding it was as difficult a thing as he had ever done. He looked at Juliet's simple jewelry now lying on Louisa's breast, sorry to lose the only mementoes he had of the love they had shared. Then he reached for a handful of Louisa's cascading silky hair and bent to kiss its fragrance. Goodbye, beautiful one, he said silently, not wanting to wake her, I promise, if it's the last thing I do, I will love you again.
Chapter Thirty-five
SILENTLY he unbolted the door, returning to Louisa's bedside to watch her for several minutes more. As quickly as he could leave her, he descended the servants' stairs, and through the same network went to Russell's door, rapping softly but persistently. Russell soon answered, and led him quietly to a study adjacent to the sleeping area.
"Sleep well?" Russell inquired, closing the study door.
"Well enough, thank you," Aaron replied politely.
"As of this morning, what do you think your chances are for recognition?" Russell continued bluntly.
To that Aaron smiled. "I've passed a very severe test, even if the lady was heavily under the influence."
"And success is sweet?"
"Very," Aaron replied with a contented note.
"As soon as our guests leave today, we'll go over the plans to get you to the Coast. We're sending you overland to San Diego. You should get acquainted with the Western Terr
itory firsthand. Sergeant Heller, whom you've already met, will be your guide."
"Isn't he the one who offered to open up my shoulder? We ought to get along real well," he shrugged.
"You weren't the most cooperative prisoner we've had. And while your loyalties are reasonably sure, it won't hurt to provide you with an escort with a temperament similar to yours."
Aaron resented that his word was questioned, but he accepted the reality of his situation, and spent the remaining weeks preparing diligently for crossing the country. He studied maps and government documents and the latest military briefings. Intermittently, he thought seriously of Louisa, even worried about her. Their encounter had not diminished his desire for her, but he tried to put his thoughts of her aside, immersing himself totally in the project at hand. She left for California shortly before he did, and he wondered briefly how she would fare, and what condition he would find her in when they met again. He admitted to himself that he would not be able to keep away from her. He knew, however, if she were in any way approachable, she would soon discover his charade. He readily recognized the luck of their first meeting, and wanted to approach her openly, hoping she was as well as he heard she now was. Perhaps she would join with him―perhaps she felt as much rancor for Simon as he did, perhaps she would forget Marshall―perhaps she would come to him―and even then, he cursed her, and himself, for the way she possessed him.
When he found her in San Diego, so pathetic and broken by her loss of Marshall, he was bitter and uncertain. His assignment would be difficult at best, his adversaries cunning and clever. And he saw no way to avoid involving himself with Louisa. It was common knowledge at home and among Simon's friends in California that Marshall had broken his engagement with Janna Carson because of her, and there was no way to postpone their meeting. At first, when he saw her, he doubted he could get close to her. It was obvious she had again retreated from reality, and he feared for her sanity. But as he watched her over the weeks and especially over the last days, he was encouraged by what lay beneath Louisa's turbulent exterior. Beneath the threat of storm and disorder lay a reserve of strength in which he believed he could even trust his life. It was risk he would take, because Louisa had always been strong, all the years he had known her.
Ford, Jessie Page 17
