Sylvie Sommerfield - Noah's Woman

by Unknown

  "Amiee, I want you to return the packet of letters I gave you to hide."

  "Are you going to destroy them?"

  "No, not destroy them. I am going to take them to Noah and tell him the full truth."

  "You're not afraid?"

  "Of course I'm afraid, but I cannot go on like this.

  Noah is so . . . so wonderful. He does not deserve a wife why is lying to him. I might have the answers to more than I know. Amiee, I have heard so much of Gregory since I have gone from the Round. I was very wrong in what I did. I need to face Noah."

  "I am happy to hear you say that. I was going to come to you. I have heard a few unsavory things myself and I was afraid for you."

  "I'll be fine . . . if Noah forgives me."

  "I'm sure, the way he loves you, he can forgive many things."

  "I must go now, while I still have my courage."

  "I'll get the packet." Amiee left the room, and returned with the packet in her hand. "Charity, if . . . if the worst happens, I want you to know that you can always come here."

  "Thank you, Amiee, but I cannot allow myself to think that way or it will defeat me. This is going to be the hardest thing I have ever done."

  Amiee handed her the packet, then embraced her. "Good luck."

  Charity left the Round and was walking toward her carriage when she was surprised by someone quietly calling her name. She turned to face a shadowed alley and saw Charles Brentwood, with a smile of satisfaction on his face.

  "Hello, Charity. It's nice to see you again. We have some unfinished business, I believe."

  "None that I know of. You tried to attack me and I ran. You don't believe I'll let you intimidate me again?"

  "I do not want to intimidate you. I want only to

  congratulate you on your marriage. I hear Lord Morgan is quite wealthy and powerful. You have my admiration. How useful he can be."

  "You think I married Noah for wealth and power?"

  "I think you are very clever. Too clever not to listen to me. I would not want to tell him that I shared your bed before he did. I don't think he would understand."

  "You wouldn't tell such a lie!" Charity's face grew pale, and Charles smiled in satisfaction.

  "Oh, but I would."

  "Why? I have done you no harm."

  "I wanted to give you everything, Charity, and you rejected me. I would be very pleased to have you come to me and say how sorry you are . . . and show me how repentant you can be."

  "Never!"

  "Will you not?"

  "No."

  "Even if it means your new and loving husband will learn of your promiscuity?"

  "He won't believe you."

  "I have proof that you lived beneath my roof. Don't you think I can convince him that you were . . . receptive? Even if I tell him of that sweet little heart of a birthmark you have on your lovely bottom?"

  "I ran from you."

  "Only because I would no longer pay your demands. And to speak of demands, you've come here for something that some friends of mine are very interested in. You have a packet of letters in your possession now . . . I want them."

  "You know"

  "Yes, I know. I will have them . . . and I will have you, wherever and whenever I want you."

  Charity glared at him, and his smile faded before her anger. He meant to have her, to punish her, and eventually to return her to Noah, soiled and shamed . . . then spread the word of her indiscretion. It would destroy both her and her husband.

  Slowly Charity removed the letters from her reticule and handed them to Charles, who put them in his coat pocket.

  "Excellent. And now, Charity, about you and me."

  "Why can you not just take the letters and go?"

  "Because I want you and I mean to have you. Now, will you comply . . . or must I speak to your husband?"

  Charity looked beaten, and Charles felt triumphant. He would have her, he would enjoy her . . . oh, he would enjoy her.

  "When?" she asked in a soft and heartbroken voice.

  "Tomorrow night. You will come to me." He was almost licking his lips.

  "This is blackmail."

  "Very effective blackmail, you will admit. I mean to enjoy you many times, my sweet, for all the nights I dreamed of having you. I mean to take you as often as I choose. You will gratify me . . . or you will regret it."

  "I will hate you."

  "Hate can be an interesting passion. You will hate more every time I possess you. And I will take my

  pleasure both in the having of you and in your hatred. It will make you more exciting."

  "Charles, please" Her voice faltered.

  "Say that again, Charity."

  "Please?"

  "I would hear you say it when I take you in my arms. I would hear you say please then. All this could have been avoided if you had not run from me."

  "You meant to make me your mistress."

  "Yes, and now I will. Jessica is dead, so there is nothing to stop me from enjoying you as often as I wish."

  Charles took her arm and dragged her to him. He felt her soft curves pressed against him, and the thought of having her at his complete mercy was enough to make his breath come in panting gasps.

  "I will have a small taste of what I will fully enjoy," he said in a rough whisper.

  She felt his hands, rough against her body, and her stomach roiled, but she did not fight. Instead she leaned against him and for this moment let him have his way. He kissed her, roughly and fiercely.

  But even in his passion he knew this was no safe place. She had too many friends here. He wanted her naked, in his bed, where he would teach her never to deny him again.

  "Tomorrow night, my home. Do not be late," he demanded. As if to enforce his point, he kissed her again. Then he walked away.

  Charity sagged against the wall and wiped her hand across her mouth as if to wash away his touch. Her eyes were full of fire, and she inhaled a deep breath.

  Then she reached into the folds of her dress to the pocket where the letters lay hidden. She had not been the best pickpocket in the Round for nothing. She smiled. Charles, and whoever his friends were, would be very surprised when they discovered that the papers they sought were lost to them . . . again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Charity arrived home, Noah was waiting for her.

  "Where did you go off to, love? You were gone so early."

  "I'll tell you where I've been, Noah, but first I must ask you to come to our room with me. There is something of the utmost importance I must talk to you about."

  Noah started to say something about waiting until after he had returned from the city, but suddenly he saw the intensity of Charity's look, her clenched hands, and the paleness of her face.

  "All right," he said and followed her up the steps.

  That Charity was extremely nervous was obvious to Noah, so he did not question her, but waited for her to say what was on her mind. It must have trou-

  bled her a great deal to make her look like this, and Noah wondered if this was the moment he'd waited for so long.

  ''Noah, please sit down."

  "Charity, what's wrong? You know I would never cause you any problems," he said, trying to reassure her while he went to a large chair and sat.

  She came to him, and then to his surprise she knelt before him. Her face was filled with determination. "Noah, I have been living a lie, and I cannot bear it any longer. I love you more than my own life, but when I have told you everything, I will understand if you feel our marriage was a mistake."

  "I know of no crime you could accomplish that would make me love you less."

  "What of lies? What of betrayal?" she asked softly.

  "Have you betrayed me?"

  "I . . . I must tell you what I have done, and leave it to you to decide."

  "Then tell me."

  Charity rose and withdrew the packet of letters from her pocket and handed them to Noah. For a minute he could only look at them, for it was as
if all he had wished for had come to be. Then he looked up and saw the tears in her eyes. She dropped down before him again.

  "Noah, I . . . I was hired to steal these from you." She began to talk rapidly now, for she wanted to get the whole story out before he responded. Noah knew what she felt and did not interrupt . . . until she came to Charles Brentwood.

  As she told of her stay in his house, and the way he

  had tried to seduce her, his face grew cold. Charity thought he was angry at her. By the time she got to Charles's attempt to blackmail her today, Noah was in a frightful rage.

  "And now, there is nothing more that I can do but to return to the Round . . . and give you your freedom."

  "Charity." Noah breathed her name softly, like a prayer. She had trusted him. She had told him all and laid her heart open to him, and given him her confidence. He captured her face between his hands and kissed her over and over. Her eyes, her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her mouth. "I couldn't live my life without you. To have you leave it would be a disaster I could not survive."

  "Noah?"

  "I have not been completely truthful with you either. I am just as wrong as you are, but I could not reveal myself until . . . until I knew you truly trusted me."

  "Trusted you? I would trust you with my life. I don't understand."

  "Listen to me, Charity. Quite some time ago, I learned there was a plot to kill Charles Brandywine. He is a good man, and our queen needs him. He is also what stands between her and a ruthless group of men who would push our country into all kinds of difficulties. I had found out about the plot, but I could not find out the names of those involved. Then I discovered that there was a method of correspondence among members of the group."

  "The letters I stole."

  "The letters," he agreed. "I knew where and who possessed them, and I found a way to get my hands on them. But when I got hold of them, I found they were written in code."

  "And you didn't have a chance to"

  "Listen carefully, love. I knew who would be after them." His gaze held hers until the truth came to her.

  "You knew of Gregory's intentions? . . . You knew all the time that Gregory was involved . . . that he had involved me, used me?"

  "I was prepared for someone to come after the letters. I just wasn't prepared to fall in love with her."

  "And you knew"

  "That night, in Father's study. I could never forget the scent of your perfume. It always lingers with me."

  "Why didn't you tell me? I am such a fool."

  "No, you are not a fool, my love. You are the most wonderful woman in the world. I had complete faith that you would not hand the letters over to Hamilton."

  "But I could have destroyed everything. I"

  "No, you could have done no harm at all. I had long ago had the letters copied so I could continue to decode them."

  "Then you deliberately trapped me."

  "No. After you had taken them, I trusted our love. I knew you wouldn't give them away, that you would return them to me."

  "Noah, what was in those letters?"

  "Plans to assassinate both Charles Brandywine and Rodger Ferrier."

  "My God!"

  "Charity, please forgive me for all of this. You have given me the gift of your love. Don't take it away now."

  "I'll never be out of your reach again. But, Noah, what about Charles Brentwood?"

  "I have a personal debt to settle with him. He needs to be taught not to seduce little girls."

  "I don't mean me. I mean . . . how did he know about the letters? He asked me for them before he suggested . . . He wanted them. Why? How could he have known?"

  "Come to think of it, that's a good question. There must be some link between Van Buran, Gregory Hamilton, and Charles Brentwood. I doubt if that will be too hard to trace. Perhaps we can put the whole group together. Her Majesty will see to it that Newgate is filled. I suspect you will feel more comfortable if we can connect Brentwood to all this."

  "Noah, I think he killed his wife. Knowing him as I do, I know he wasn't the kind and considerate husband he made himself out to be. When I remember how she told me that her parents died accidentally, and how many so-called accidents she had had herself, I wonder."

  "And I wonder what his connection to the Safe Home Orphanage is. These are questions we'll get answers to in time. For today, why don't we just enjoy the fact that there will be nothing to separate us ever again?"

  "I had thought this to be the worst day of my life, and now it's the best. Noah, I must go to Beth. She has been so worried about me and this situation. She

  has always wanted the truth between us."

  "Charity, there is one more thing you must know."

  "Something else? I didn't think there could be any more problems."

  "This isn't actually a problem. The night after I sensed you in Father's study . . . when I discovered who you were, I went to Jason. We have known each other for a long time."

  "Jason never told me"

  "I know, I swore him to secrecy."

  "We have kept so many secrets from each other, it's a wonder we ever found each other at all."

  "I am the one who bought your portrait, Charity. I had to have it, but I could not reveal myself to you without giving you cause to run from me."

  "Jason sold it to you?"

  "After a long and very difficult argument. He wanted me to tell you what I knew, and assured me you could not be a real threat. I just"

  "You just had to let me see for myself that I loved and trusted you."

  "That's about the story."

  "And where have you hidden it?"

  "It's not hidden, it's in the study. That is the reason I kept it locked. Jason was a bit put out with me. He told me he'd promised not to sell the portrait. I convinced him against his will and only with the promise that I'd tell you everything as soon as I could."

  "Dear Jason."

  "He is quite fond of you."

  "And I of him. He was often a shelter from the prob-

  lems the Round produced, and I used to run to him just to get away."

  "I wish I could have given you that when you needed it. I'm sorry for all you have had to go through."

  "It's in the past, Noah. Now that there's truth between us, I can see no more problems."

  "Then let's put all else aside. I'm sure Beth will be happy to hear from you."

  "What will happen to Gregory and all the others?"

  "No one but you knows that I have broken their code. I'm sure that by the time Brentwood finds the papers gone, he'll not want to tell the others that he has failed. He'll run for cover like all cowards do. We will gather the would-be assassins when they attempt to carry out their plans. It will all be over, and neither Hamilton nor Brentwood will bother you again."

  "I can hardly believe it's over. I have been afraid for so long."

  "You need never be afraid again. I intend to see that you have no other problems to face. We can concentrate on us." He spoke the words softly as he bent to kiss her again.

  Jason was watching Beth, and knew her thoughts were not on him. She was gazing toward the window and sitting very still with her hands folded in her lap. He was painting her again, despite the fact that he had sold three paintings in the past few weeks.

  He had never painted as well as he had since Beth had come into his life. He only wished he could have given her more than this studio, and himself. She was

  so wonderful, and she deserved much more. He wondered if she had such thoughts, if she regretted their marriage.

  "Beth . . . Beth?"

  "What? . . . Oh, I'm sorry, Jason, I was daydreaming. I'll be still."

  "That's pretty much the problem."

  "What is?"

  "You have been so still, so quiet. Where are you, Beth? You have been far away for days." He laid down his brush and walked across the room to sit beside her. "Is something wrong?"

  "No, Jason." She smiled and touched her hand to his cheek. "I'm
very, very happy. I was just thinking"

  "About Charity."

  "How did you know?"

  "It wasn't knowing, it was hoping. The only other thing that could make you look so serious is me, and that worries me."

  "Well, you needn't worry." She put her arms about his neck. "I think of you a lot," she said seductively, "and certainly not in a way that should worry you."

  He returned her smile, and took the time to savor a deep kiss. "So that leaves Charity. What's worrying you?"

  "All the secrets. I know Charity's not happy with them. I wish there was a way to bring everything out into the open. I know we are sworn to secrecy, but the truth would help her more."

  "That has to be Charity's decision," Jason answered. But Beth, for the first time, who was begin-

  ning to know Jason better, noticed that his eyes did not meet hers.

  "Jason?"

  "I don't have the answers, Beth."

  "But you know a great deal that you haven't told me."

  "Beth . . . Noah Morgan and I . . . we've been friends for a long time. Before I left my father's . . . no, my brother's house, Noah and I were companions . . . sort of."

  "What are you telling me?"

  "I'm not going to lie to you, but I am going to tell you what you cannot tell anyone else . . . not even Charity. It is something she and Noah have to work out for themselves."

  "I still don't understand."

  "Beth . . . there is nothing in Charity's life that Noah does not already know, including what she was doing for Gregory Hamilton."

  "What!"

  "It's true, just as his love for her is true. He waits only for her to trust him enough to tell him."

  "But that is terrible! He cannot make Charity go on suffering so!"

  "It's between them. I cannot tell him what to do. Don't you understand? Unless she tells him, then he will never know. He won't know if she trusted him or if she was just forced to tell the truth. He's the one who bought Charity's portrait. I know how much he loves her, and I know how important it is for him to hear the truth from her first."