Crystal Passion (The McClellans Series, Book 1) Author's Cut Edition

by Jo Goodman

  "And there is no need for all this squirming." He held her in place. He could practically feel the heat of her embarrassment. "I've spent nearly eight intimate weeks in your company, and it would be impossible for you to hide a thing like your monthly courses from me. You have not had your time. Is your illness related to that?"

  For the lack of anything better to do Ashley finished her tea and gave Salem the cup. He promptly tossed it on the floor where it rolled around noisily.

  "Is it?" he asked again.

  She shrugged and answered in a small voice. "I sometimes am out of sorts around my time. And it isn't unusual for me to skip a month or two. Especially when I've been upset I suppose this is one of those instances."

  "I thought that might be the reason." He was rather pleased with himself for having figured out the whole of it. "You seem to have a harder time than either of my sisters, but I've been told it can be like that."

  "I know," she said wearily. "Nothing can stop the intrepid McClellan women. I doubt I shall ever measure up."

  "I never meant anything like that," Salem said quickly.

  "Don't mind me. I told you I get out of sorts." She turned her head slightly and looked back at him. Her mouth curved in a faint smile, and her lids hovered sleepily over her darkened eyes. "I'm feeling a little better. Perhaps the cracker was just what I needed. Would you mind if I went to sleep now?"

  "No. Not at all. Will you be all right, d'you think?"

  "I think so. You go back to your work."

  Salem waited until she had fallen asleep before he left the cabin. In his mind he could see her curled softly on the bunk, the gentle curve of one arm thrust outside the blanket, palm upward like a trusting child. But she is no child he told himself as the storm raged about him on deck, and she would be wiser not to place so much trust in him. The cold wind felt good against his face, and the stinging salt spray was not unpleasant. The elements whipped him, and he took it as part punishment, part balm for wanting Ashley so badly that he burned with it.

  * * *

  Bright sunlight crystallized the features of an alien land. Only minutes away from docking at Norfolk, Ashley stood at Salem's side and stared bleakly at the array of ships the Oleander would soon join. I shall be lost here, she thought, remembering her first glimpse of the American shore. The seaboard seemed to go on forever, and she imagined the interior land as Salem had described it: sandy shores giving way to rolling hills dotted with stately pine forests and veined with clear streams and rivers. The vastness of what confronted her was nearly overwhelming. She glanced at Salem to make certain he had not seen her fears, but what she saw in his face arrested her gaze.

  His features were still, as if he had been captured in stone, yet there was a quality of yearning in his bright eyes that suggested urgency and motion. His body was immobile, yet it strained forward as if its total energy could not be harnessed by muscle and sinew. There was a tension around his mouth, faint lines that captured the intense pleasure of a man who was seeing something for which a mere smile was inadequate.

  Ashley felt something turn over inside her as she stared at Salem. When he reached for her, seemingly without noticing the direction of her gaze, she gladly allowed herself to be encircled by his strong embrace. Her slightly moist vision returned to the shore, and she felt as if she was seeing it clearly this time, through the eyes of a man who held this land dear.

  She leaned back against Salem's hard chest, finding more reassurance in the steadiness of his heartbeat. Her hands held his arms where they crossed beneath her breasts.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself the delusion that this was where she belonged, that the look in Salem's eyes had been for her, the woman he loved, and not only for the land he had thought he might never see again.

  "What is it?" he whispered against her ear.

  "Hmm?"

  He gave her a gentle shake which had the effect of pulling her up stiffly in his arms. He laughed shortly. "You seemed faraway. What were you thinking?"

  "I was thinking how strong of mind you are to have been able to withstand the confines of Newgate," she replied, then realized it was not so far off the mark. "I had not really considered how intolerable the prison was for you beyond thinking of the wretched conditions. But you were used to open seas and country that must stretch to infinity. I cannot think how you managed to escape with your sanity."

  "I held my freedom dear. Even if it was only the simple act of choosing how to spend my coins."

  "I don't understand."

  "It seems as if there will always be restrictions on my liberty. I am confined on even the largest of oceans to the area of my ship. Every day there are more violations of personal liberty being perpetrated by the crown on its American Colonies. But though I rankle at every threat to my liberty, real or imagined, I know that I am always free to choose my actions. No one can ever take that from me. No one."

  Ashley nodded. "Most of my life I thought Nigel could do that to me. But it was never really in his power, was it?"

  "No, not really. He could bully and threaten you, confine and hurt you, but he could never really control you without your consent."

  She smiled warmly as Salem hugged her. Ashley was learning to accept these frequent displays of caring, trusting Salem to abide by the boundaries of sibling affection. "I wish you had come into my life years ago." As my friend and mentor, she added to herself, never as my brother.

  "No more than I."

  "It won't be long now, will it?" she asked as the Oleander neared the dock.

  "No, not long. Look! There's the Caroline! Thank God she hasn't left yet."

  Ashley followed the direction of Salem's pointing, but she felt as if something cold and unpleasant had seeped under her pelisse at the mention of his ship. She tried to muster a smile to match the happiness in his voice.

  "The Caroline, "she said faintly. "I don't think you ever mentioned the name of your ship before."

  Salem, caught up in the pleasure of seeing his brig in port, her sails furled against the square-rigged masts, needed a moment to hear the uneasiness that had crept into Ashley's voice. "What has the name of my ship to do with anything? My father named her in memory of his mother."

  "My middle name is Caroline."

  At first Salem did not understand, but when he did he gave her a little shake. "No. There's no connection. It's a common enough name. There is no reason to think we share a father simply because of a coincidence in names."

  Ashley wanted to believe him but it seemed a farfetched coincidence in her mind. "I know you believe that."

  "Stop it. There's no sense in upsetting yourself. We'll have the answers in a few hours." And not a minute too soon, he told himself.

  Ashley refused to allow herself the hope that Salem was right. Rather than dwell on the future she directed the conversation to more practical matters. "How will we get to your home?"

  "I suspect that where the Caroline is we'll be likely to find James Shannon. He's never failed to be around when I need him. He'll get us horses or we'll take a schooner up the James river. In this area we do a lot of travel on the river. The roads aren't good, and it's easier to move produce over water than over land. McClellan's Landing isn't far. We're close to Williamsburg and Yorktown."

  "That's nice."

  Salem laughed. "I forget these names don't mean much to you. But you shall be familiar with them before long."

  Ashley wasn't sure but she wasn't going to voice any more of her misgivings. At any rate her rejoinder would have been lost in the frantic activity around them as the Oleander docked.

  Salem left her briefly to make arrangements with Holland for the delivery of his animal, and when he returned he found Ashley holding both valises, looking very grave as she faced the prospect of stepping down the gangboard onto American soil. Her eyes were dark as they scanned the wharf and the town beyond. Wind whipped ebony hair about her solemn face. She seemed to have stopped breathing. Salem said nothing
for a time, allowing Ashley her private thoughts and moments to gather her courage. Suddenly she seemed to sense his presence and she turned on him. A serene smile lighted her face.

  "I'm ready now, Salem. No matter what happens, I've made my peace with the past."

  His silver eyes slid over every feature of her face, memorizing each detail, hungering for the whole. When he realized he was in danger of betraying his desire, he nodded abruptly. "I think you're wise to do that. America will be a beginning for you."

  "Yes."

  "Then I think it should start now. Here. Let me have those bags."

  Ashley gladly handed them over and followed Salem carefully down the gangboard. Already there was a small crowd of merchants and tradesmen gathering on the wharf to see what cargo the Oleander was unloading. Salem's arrival went unnoticed until they approached the Caroline. The ship was nearly deserted, but those few aboard sent up cheers and whistles that swelled to such a noise that Ashley thought the townspeople at their back had joined in.

  She was so proud of Salem's grand welcome that she didn't see the slight reddening of his face at first. When she noticed, she chided him. "Why I believe they've managed to embarrass you, captain."

  Salem showed her that he was not amused.

  She laughed brightly. "All right. Enough said. But it's no use trying to intimidate me. I shall simply recall your rosy cheeks and—"

  Salem stopped in his tracks and gave her a speaking glance.

  Her smile simply widened. "I'm finished. Promise." She pointed over his shoulder. "Look, there is someone trying to get your attention."

  Salem looked back and smiled broadly. "That's Shannon, Ashley. We're going home."

  Ashley would always remember her first meeting with the Irishman. She had never met anyone so animated. His every sentence was punctuated by some gesture. His bushy red eyebrows would raise almost to his hairline, or his lips would twitch, accenting what seemed to be a perpetual smile. He clasped Salem in an embrace so fierce that Ashley stepped back, looking to Salem for protection when he attempted the same with her. That he managed the gripping show of affection while balancing himself on a pair of crutches amazed Ashley.

  Silent laughter at Ashley's wide-eyed expression seemed to bounce around in his barrel-like chest until it could no longer be contained and exploded from him, deep and hearty.

  "It's no use hidin' behind the lad there. He hasn't a prayer of keeping you from me. Now what's your name, my fine colleen?"

  Salem dropped both valises and put his arm around Ashley's shoulders. "Enough, James. You're going to frighten her." To Ashley he said, "Don't mind Shannon here. He's an incorrigible flirt but if a woman ever caught his eye and returned his smile he wouldn't know what to do."

  "The hell you say," Shannon bellowed.

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shannon," Ashley said, giving him a swift curtsy.

  Lips twitching, Shannon lifted one crutch in salute. "A well-mannered lass from the looks of her, Salem. Hard to believe she's English. Don't tell me she's the witch you met at the Pooley because I won't believe you."

  Salem tucked a warning into the frown he flashed his friend. "No, this is Miss Ashley Lynne, the Duke of Linfield's ward, and my savior in Newgate."

  Shannon lifted one brow while his light green eyes assessed Ashley's slight figure and whistled deeply. "The duke's ward? Your savior? I think I better be having the whole of it on the way to the landing. That is where you want to go, isn't it?"

  "You know it is."

  "Good. We'll take the heel-tapper I've been using to get around. She scoons the river like a waterbug. Your ma says I won't be free of these sticks for a few more weeks." He nudged Salem playfully in the ribs. "But just between you and me, she's trying to keep me harnessed."

  Salem rolled his eyes and explained for Ashley's benefit.

  "He means he's fallen in love again with one of the maids, and my mother is doing her best to see that he doesn't fall too hard. Who is it this time, Shannon? Someone new?"

  "Her name is Meg Culgan, and your ma took her on while we were gone. She's a slip of a thing with a fine Irish spirit and a temper that never quite cools."

  Salem leaned over and whispered to Ashley but loud enough for Shannon to hear. "I think Meg must be the one all the McClellans have been waiting for. If we can marry him off we may not have to share Sunday dinners with him any longer."

  "That's too mean of you, Salem," Ashley scolded, her eyes dancing. "I think you've hurt Mr. Shannon's feelings."

  Shannon caught the genuine affection between Ashley and Salem and wondered at it. On that matter he kept silent but thought privately he was not the only one smitten of late. He waved a crutch in the general direction of some smaller ships farther down the wharf. "C'mon, the both of you. God didn't put me on this good green earth for your amusement." He shouted to some of the men on the Caroline to follow.

  Ashley accepted Salem's help getting onto the heel-tapper, as Shannon called it. The small schooner needed only a few men to work her. While the crew let loose her two mast sails and sent her leaning close to the wind, Ashley sat on an unpadded seat wedged between Salem and Shannon. Travel was as fast and sharp as Shannon had promised, but several times Ashley had an urge to lean over the side so she could empty her stomach. Neither of the men seemed to notice her or her discomfort. After a while the brisk skimming action of the schooner made her pleasantly tired.

  Over Ashley's weary head Salem and Shannon exchanged information about the smuggling charges that had led to Salem's imprisonment and the subsequent return of the Caroline. Crew members in hearing distance added their own voices to what they remembered of stealing back their ship. Salem shared what he could of his escape without compromising Ashley or explaining what her interest was in his family.

  Ashley let the conversation drift over her, content to let the landscape blur into a dark green on either side of her. When the forest gave way to acres of rich tobacco land she was already soundly asleep.

  Salem smiled down at her gently bobbing head and pulled her to him so that she could rest comfortably against his shoulder. Without knowing that she did so Ashley snuggled into the warmth of his chest.

  Shannon tipped his chin in Ashley's direction. "I don't know what your da will say about you bringing her here. He's got no love for the duke. Robert suspects him as the cause of all your ills. When I told him what had happened he knew Lynne was behind it. He's been brooding for days that he sent you there."

  "Did my father ever mention Ashley?"

  "No. Should he have?"

  "I think she is the reason I was sent to Linfield in the first place."

  "And what strange brew have you been tippin'? He sent you for a filly for his stud."

  "Yes, didn't he?" Salem replied enigmatically, softly stroking Ashley's black mane of hair. He abruptly changed the subject. "How is everyone at home?"

  "Fighting mad is how they are. Rae and Leah talked about manning the schooner and taking off across the Atlantic on their own. Thank heaven cooler heads held them off."

  "How soon was Noah prepared to leave?"

  "Two days from now."

  "I was afraid we wouldn't get here in time."

  "You almost didn't. The Caroline had a quick crossing. We strained every sail."

  "Thank you," Salem said solemnly.

  Shannon's fair complexion took on a ruddy hue. He directed his attention to Ashley, lying peacefully in Salem's sheltering embrace. "She's just a bit of a thing."

  Salem nodded. "But so much courage, Shannon. She has no idea of how brave she really is."

  "You know, she has the look of someone—an old friend of your father's—I just can't—"

  "She has her own look," Salem said quickly with quiet conviction. "There is no one else like her."

  When Salem spoke like that, Shannon knew better than to argue. The interesting thing was that Shannon had never heard his friend speak so of a woman. That tone of voice was reserved for the things he held d
earest to him. He looked at Salem consideringly. "I think you're in the right of it there."

  Not much later Salem was nudging Ashley awake. "McClellan's Landing," he said, helping her to her feet.

  Ashley felt as if she were going to be sick. She grasped Salem's arms for support and clutched him hard to keep her balance. She laughed uneasily. "I didn't know I could be this frightened." She bobbed in front of him trying to see the land at his back or catch a glimpse of his home.

  He laughed. "You'll see all of it. Give yourself a moment to get your land legs."

  "She's got more moves than a will-o'-the-wisp." Shannon chuckled as he clumsily climbed out onto the dock. "And she's glowin' a little green in the face. Are you all right, Miss Lynne?"

  Her voice said yes, but her eyes very clearly said no.

  "You start for the house, Shannon. We'll catch you. I think Ashley needs a moment for herself."

  Ashley shot him a grateful look. Salem led her away from the dock and blocked her from the sight of the crew while she lost her breakfast and lunch. Then he brought her some water.

  "Feeling better?" he asked as she handed back the tin cup. "Do you want more?"

  "Yes and no."

  He tossed the cup back toward the dock. "I know I'll feel better when you can hold down three meals."

  Ashley refrained from a comment lest she say more than she knew was wise. They went back to the path that led to the house. "It's probably as you said," she responded, glad for the excuse when he kept glancing at her. "I need to find my land legs."

  This time Salem withheld answering but his frown was deep and his manner distracted until they rounded the hillock that gave them their first clear view of his home. Ashley's hand stayed him.

  McClellan's Landing stood proudly against a backdrop of regal-looking oaks. The white roof and four white columns supporting the portico entrance reflected the sun's lingering light, while the redbrick walls seemed to absorb its warmth. Four chimneys rose above the roof, rivaling the treetops for command of the sky. White shutters framed every window on both floors, and at the east wing were two verandas, opening from both floors of the house, giving a commanding view of one of the most splendid gardens Ashley had ever seen.