Eliza narrowed her eyes. The man only addressed her with her husband’s military title when he was up to no good. Perhaps as a reminder to himself that she was married to the leader of the colony and he best behave. “Searching for gold in the dark?”
“I have eyes like a bat, madam. Eyes like a bat.” He opened them wide as if trying to convince her.
Eliza moved her torch closer to study those eyes that now shifted away.
I bet you do, but not to see gold with. “And yet you have no shovel.”
He frowned and stuffed his thumbs into his belt. “No sense in carrying around a shovel until I actually find treasure, now is there?”
Eliza groaned inwardly at the idiocy of his statement. But why argue with a fool?
“I assure you, your pirate gold is not at the women’s bathing pool, Mr. Dodd.” Angeline had told Eliza she was going for a dip, which was why Eliza was coming to join her. She could use a bath herself, and besides, it wasn’t wise for any of the women to be out here alone.
“The women’s bathin’…What are you talking about?” Mr. Dodd looked at her as if she’d told him he stood in the Sistine Chapel in Rome. “I had no idea Miss Angeline was at some bathing pool.”
“I made no mention of Angeline, sir.”
He rubbed his chin and gave a nervous laugh. “I just assumed since you two are friends and I hear she loves to bathe and she’d be the only woman to come out here alone without escort and disrobe in public. Not that I’m saying she did such a thing, but since you mentioned a bathing pool, I only assumed…” He shifted his stance and cleared his throat, still refusing to look at her.
The man was not only a greedy letch but a bad liar as well. “What exactly are you trying to say, Mr. Dodd?”
“Nothing…oh nothing…” He slapped his lips together and plucked a leaf from a nearby bush. “Never mind. It’s late and my head is foggy. Good evening.” And with that, he sauntered away, chuckling, as if she hadn’t just caught him peering inappropriately at Angeline. Something she would definitely mention to her husband, Blake.
Shoving the foliage aside, Eliza’s anger rose as she realized the ladies would have to find a new spot to bathe. But those thoughts were soon scattered when she saw Angeline standing on the shore, holding her loose petticoat up to her chest, her face as pale as the moon.
“Did you see…” She turned as Eliza approached and pointed a trembling finger to the sandy shore of the creek.
“See what?” Eliza scanned the clearing. No one was there except Stowy, who now circled his mistresses’ ankles. “Come now, let’s get you dried off. You’re shivering.”
She wrapped Angeline in a dry towel and led her to sit on a boulder. “Did Dodd bother you?”
“Dodd? No.” Angeline’s voice sounded hollow. “I saw someone. Someone I knew from Savannah.” Stowy leapt into her lap.
Eliza’s heart tightened as her thoughts drifted to the odd visions she and Blake—and now even James—had seen. “Who?”
Angeline’s harried gaze skittered across the clearing. “When you emerged from the jungle, he simply vanished. Are you sure no one is here?”
“I don’t see anyone.” Eliza took Angeline’s hand in hers, deciding it best not to tell her about Dodd. “Real people don’t vanish. I’m sure it was just a bad dream. That’s all.” But she knew Angeline hadn’t been asleep. None of them had been asleep when they’d seen their visions.
Dear Lord, what is going on?
CHAPTER 12
Holding her wet clothes over one arm and her valise in the other, Magnolia entered the clearing and made her way to the shelter. Setting her valise inside, she flung her wet garments over a nearby branch beneath the cover of a tree, doing her best to hide her personals. Just the thought of Hayden seeing them sent heat blossoming up her throat. Just like it had when he’d held her close with nothing between them but her chemise. The utter shame! Yes, she had screamed for his help. She’d been hysterical with fear. But any gentleman would have made a hasty retreat after killing the snake. Not taken her into his arms. Not rubbed her back and squeezed her tight. How could she possibly face him now?
More importantly, how could she deny the complete and utter pleasure she had felt in his embrace? Not just safe and secure, but on fire from the inside out. In a good way. A most pleasurable way. Mercy me, she’d kissed men before. She was well acquainted with the flutter in her belly upon such an action. But this, this sensation was beyond anything she had ever dreamed.
She needed a drink. She took in a deep breath, letting her nerves settle.
At least it had stopped raining. For now. Perhaps she should retire for the night and avoid looking at Hayden altogether. She heard him fiddling with the fire, could feel his eyes on her. Knew as soon as he looked at her, he’d see her embarrassment. No doubt he would utter some sarcastic quip, or worse, try to take further liberties. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her flask and took a sip, noting how dry it was in the shelter. She placed a hand on the bed of leaves. Thick and soft and raised off the ground to keep the ants and moisture away. An odd feeling warmed her belly—she wasn’t used to being cared for. But no, she told herself, that must’ve been the pinga. She took another sip, wincing at the pungent taste when a most delectable scent caused her stomach to lurch.
Peering around the corner of her shelter, she saw Hayden holding a skinned snake over the fire. “Ready for supper?” he asked, his tone playful.
She crept toward him. Their eyes met. As she’d feared, heat swamped her, rising up her neck and face. The right side of his lips quirked. Magnolia stomped her foot. “Stop looking at me that way. You behaved the cad and now you remind me of it with your eyes.” Jungle-green eyes that assessed her with impunity and something else that sent a tingle down to her wet toes. “You know I am at your complete mercy and yet you toy with me as an impudent boy would a poor little bird. Not that I’m as weak as a little bird, so don’t get any thoughts in your bloated head—”
“Do you wish to eat or not?” He interrupted, one brow lifting.
She thrust out her chin. “I don’t eat snake.”
“Well, I have nothing else to offer, Princess.”The snake flesh sizzled in the flames, sending up an aroma that caused Magnolia’s mouth to water. She inched to the fire, saw that he’d dragged a log over for her to sit on and placed some dried leaves on top.
Hayden tore off a chunk of snake and popped it in his mouth, raising his brows at her as he moaned in delight. His wet shirt molded to his chest, carving lines around firm muscles. Damp almond-colored hair slicked back from a face that seemed more intense and angular in the shifting firelight.
Magnolia pulled out her flask and took another sip. What was wrong with her? She’d been courted by wealthy landowners, an English baron, even a governor’s son, yet here she was ogling a man so far beneath her, the heel of her boot wouldn’t touch his head. An orphan. One of the many hapless street elves inhabiting Charleston, stealing and begging and causing mayhem.
“I’ll have a sip of that,” he held out his hand.
“May I have a sip, please?” she corrected him.
He cocked his head and studied her, his jaw tightening. “Thank you, Hayden, for saving my life from a snake,” he taunted.
Magnolia fumed. “Did I not say thank you? Perhaps you were too busy fondling me to hear.”
He laughed, a hearty laugh that echoed through the jungle. “How about an exchange then? I give you some food and you give me a drink.” Rising, he approached and held out the stick of roasting snake flesh.
She gulped. “I couldn’t possibly.”
“Come now. It tastes like chicken. Besides, you must eat or you won’t have strength to walk all day tomorrow.”
Handing him the flask, Magnolia pulled off a chunk of meat. She closed her eyes, set it on her tongue, and forced herself to chew, trying not to gag at the thought of it. But Hayden was right. It did taste like chicken. Wonderfully delicious chicken. Her stomach welcomed it happily
. She broke off another piece while Hayden sipped her pinga.
He lowered the flask and coughed, his face turning red. “What in the Sam Hill is this?”
“Brazilian rum. Thiago made it.” She frowned and gestured for him to give it back. “And that’s all I have for the journey.” When he didn’t return it, she tugged off another piece of meat and lowered herself with difficulty to the log. “But this snake is good. Very good. I’m going to think of it as chicken, however. How do you know it’s not poisonous?” She stopped chewing and stared at him, fear trailing the last piece down her throat.
Hayden chuckled. Much to her dismay, he took another sip of rum before he handed the flask back to her. “Poisonous snakes are brightly colored. Besides, I cut off the head where the venom is stored.”
Magnolia had no idea how he knew such a thing, nor did she want to know. She resumed chewing, finally feeling the effects of the pinga soften her frayed nerves. “So, you were an orphan in Charleston?” Emboldened by the rum, she broached a subject that would be considered impolite to mention in society, but for some reason she was desperate to know more about this fierce, untamed man.
The fire cast a circle of light, skipping over the surrounding leaves and branches like a swarm of butterflies in a field of flowers. Pops and sizzles joined the drone of crickets and bullfrogs in a pleasant melody.
Sitting on a stump just a yard from hers, Hayden tore off another hunk of snake and stared at it for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer her. “Eight years.”
“What happened to your parents?”
“Father left when I was two. My mother was run over by a carriage when I was ten.”
Magnolia’s throat closed around a piece of meat. She coughed, struggling to breathe, and grabbed the flask for another sip. Her heart felt as thick and heavy as the air around her. What father would leave a wife and child? And his poor mother…“How horrible. Did you not have relatives, uncles, grandparents?”
He shook his head and tossed the snake into his mouth. His jaw rolled tight as he chewed. “No one.”
Magnolia stared at the dirt. An ant scampered across the soil, forming a jagged path. First left then right, then left again as if it were lost and trying to find its way. Finally, it approached the fire then sped off in the other direction. All alone. Just like Hayden had been. While she’d slept in a feather bed, had a buffet of delicacies to choose from, and every luxury money could buy, he had been on the street, searching to find his way, scraping his sustenance from the dirt. “How did you survive?”
He grabbed a stick and poked the fire, sending sparks into the night. “I begged. Stole. Sometimes set traps and caught small animals, whatever I could.”
His tone bore the nonchalance of a man who didn’t want pity, yet pride and pain lingered in his expression. She wanted to touch him, to offer him comfort, but he seemed unsettled, like a powder keg about to explode. Besides, she didn’t want to care for him. Caring meant risk. And risk meant pain. At least with men like him. Handsome, capable men with sultry smiles and mischievous eyes that made a woman’s heart flutter, excitement and danger in their touch. She’d had her heart trampled by a man like that. But never again. They both sat silent for several minutes. Finally, he stood, strode to the edge of camp, and returned with two bananas. He handed her one.
“Yet you survived and obviously found a way to earn a living.” She took the fruit, hoping to sweep away Hayden’s somber mood with her compliment.
A breeze stirred the flames then spun around the camp, fluttering the surrounding leaves. Pinpricks of light flashed in the dark jungle. On and off. One there, and then another a few feet away. “Fireflies!” Shoving off the log, Magnolia jumped to her feet and twirled around, excited to see something so familiar. “Just like in Georgia! Do you see them? I’ve always loved fireflies ever since I was a little girl.” Somehow it made her feel close to her homeland, as if it wasn’t across an ocean, thousands of miles away.
Her eyes met his, and she found him smiling at her. Not a seductive sort of smile, but a smile of admiration. It did odd things to her insides, and she shifted her gaze away and sat back down. “What is it that you do, Hayden? To make a living, I mean.”
This seemed to amuse him, though why she couldn’t imagine. “You might say I’m a broker of sorts.”
“A broker? And what does a broker do?”
He seemed to be pondering the answer as he tossed another log into the fire. “I arrange sales of properties and other investments.” He smiled again, a smile of amusement, as if he’d just told her he was a clown with a traveling circus. At least that would be more interesting than being a broker from the sounds of it. In fact, it quite surprised her to learn that this uncultured man held such a professional job. Sailor, fisherman, blacksmith—those professions she could understand. But broker? “Sounds complicated,” she said. “How did an orphan learn such a trade?”
He peeled his banana and took a bite. “One learns many things on the streets, Princess. You do what you must in order to survive.”
Then why did his voice sting with guilt? Surely being a broker was an honorable pursuit. Perhaps not very lucrative, but honorable.
A monkey howled in the distance. Or was it something else? Something more menacing. Hayden didn’t seem to notice as he stared at the fire, a pensive expression on his face.
Magnolia took another sip of pinga. My, but the man was acting strangely. Finally, after a quick glance her way, he rose and sat on a log on the other side of the fire, as if he couldn’t stand to be near her.
She should be thrilled at his obvious disinterest. Relieved! Especially after their encounter in the bushes. Then why did the action disturb her so? She fingered a strand of moist hair lying in her lap and regretted not pinning it up appropriately. She must look a mess! Her father would be outraged. She could still hear him say:
“The Holy Scripture tells us that a woman’s hair is her glory. Therefore, it must be properly combed and pinned up with modesty and decorum at all times. Otherwise you shame not only yourself, but your family and your God. Only women of tawdry morals wear their hair loose.”
Corking the pinga, She slipped it in her pocket and retrieved her mirror from her valise. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. Hair like coiled wet rope hugged the side of her face like a barnacle to a ship. Her lips were pale, her eyes dull, and red marks peppered her once porcelain skin. Retrieving her handkerchief, she quickly wiped the streak of dirt lining her forehead. How had she missed that before?
Perhaps her disheveled appearance was the reason for the look of disgust on Hayden’s face, the reason he distanced himself from her. She ran fingers through the tangled strands of hair, shoved them away from her face, and held the mass of curls up behind her. She should pin it up. But she didn’t feel like it tonight. Besides, who cared what Hayden thought? Letting her locks tumble down her back, she opened her flask and took another drink. Maybe she was worthless just like her father said. Especially without her beauty.
Firelight dappled leaves with golden light and flung sparks into the night. She glanced up to see stars winking at her through the canopy. She giggled at the sight and lowered her gaze. Things became blurry, distant. The pain throbbing in her heart numbed, and she tipped the flask to take another sip.
When Hayden plucked it from her grip.
“I think you’ve had enough, Princess.” Hayden shoved the cork in the nozzle and slid the flask into his pocket. Though he’d love to take another drink himself, he was already having trouble keeping his wits about him with this capricious woman. Capricious and whimsical and oddly delightful. And beautiful. No one had ever asked him about his childhood before. Or his occupation. Nor had anyone seemed genuinely sorrowful at his woeful story. In fact, the last person he expected sympathy from was the spoiled daughter of a rich plantation owner.
Yet the concern and pain burning in those blue eyes of hers had nearly done him in, broken his resolve to allow no one into his heart. No
one close enough to really know him. No one who could hurt him—abandon him. He’d told her more than he’d intended. And she was more beautiful to him for having drawn his sad tale out from hiding. But now, he must shove his past back into the cobwebbed recesses of his mind and close the door on further conversation.
At least about him.
“Here, have some more snake.” He handed her the stick.
“I don’t want snake. I want my rum back.” She held out her hand.
He put a piece of snake in it instead.
Those eyes that had been so beautiful when they were filled with concern for him now flashed like lightning. He gave his gaze permission to rove over her curves, heating his body in remembrance of the feel of her. Zooks, but she was a delicious morsel. And now a besotted one as well. In her condition, he would have no trouble seducing her. Like he’d done with so many women before.
Which was why he mustn’t take a drink. And why he must sit as far away from her as possible.
She tossed the snake into her mouth. “My rum, if you please?”
“Let’s save it for tomorrow, shall we?” He returned to his seat and threw another log on the fire.
A frown on her face, she began peeling her banana. “You’re a monster, Hayden Gale.” She mumbled. “And no fun at all.” She bit into the fruit and fumbled with her hair, trying to set it in place without pins. “No, you are worse than a monster. You’re one of those giant toads down by the river. You know the ones that are big and fat and ugly and have all those hideous spots on them? Yes, you’re one of those. Except there’s not a libertine’s chance in a convent that you’ll ever turn into a handsome prince.”
Hayden couldn’t help but smile.
Until she began to sing.
“Open the door, my hinny, my heart,
Open the door, my own darling;
Remember the word you spoke to me
In the meadow by the well-spring.”
Hayden must find a way to stop the irksome sound. “Tell me of this fiancé of yours.”
Elusive Hope Page 11
